Cordia had never been to a funeral before. Most of her grandparents had died before she was born. Her Nana Pike passed away when she was about three or four, but she had stayed home from the funeral with Frieda. She had read about such things in many books, so it was a little surprising to her when she awoke that Saturday morning to see the sun shining in the sky. After all, in every story she had ever read, the sky was always dark and gloomy, wind blowing a driving rain, as all the mourners, dressed in black huddled around the coffin.
As her family followed the procession of other carriages and wagons out to the cemetery on the edge of the Adams Farm, she thought it fitting that the sun was shining. Though it was still August, and therefore, still hot, there was a nice, gentle breeze blowing. Jaris’s parents had asked Cordia and her family to sit with them directly in front of the coffin. She took her place there, beside what would have been her mother-in-law. Margaret
Carey’s horse ran straight past him, seeing the other riders off in the distance, and Carey knew he was trapped. Will was certainly behind him now. He dropped the derringer to the ground, hoping compliance would be beneficial. His only option was to find a way to get close enough to Cordia to take that gun away and use her body as a shield. “Cordia,” he said as sweetly as he could muster, “you’re not going to shoot me,” he smiled at her, nonchalantly. “Go ahead and step out of the way, darlin’ so I can join my men.”“You and your men shot my daddy,” she replied, her voice filled with hate.Carey swallowed hard. It had never been his intention to physically harm her father. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. “Your father and I have always been such good friends. I’m sure he would understand why you would let me go.”It was a stretch, and they both knew it
Carey’s plan was working. The cavalry was not prepared for an assault on the munitions, and when they blew, it shook the entire square. Glass shards flew through the air, people went flying, horses darted off, some with riders still holding on. The explosion had caught the wooden steeple and roof of the courthouse on fire, and the structure was going up in flames. Within a few moments, the entire top of the building was burning.The Union troops realized that their focal point was rapidly disappearing. While this was certainly devastating to their purpose, it did suddenly create a sense of mobility to the commanders. No longer tied to a structure to protect, they began to pour out in formation, engaging the enemy where they were, rather than waiting for Quantrill and his men to come to them.Quantrill recognized this problem almost instantly. He had hoped to acquire some of the weapons and munitions that had been stored there, but at least they would no longer be
The group of men Carey was leading were pyromaniacs, apparently. His understanding was that Quantrill wanted them to converge on the square, take the outpost, and then light the town on fire as they made their escape. These men spent a great deal of time throwing torches through broken windows, and it seemed that they would never make it to the heart of the battle unfolding on the square a few blocks away.At last, Carey gave the order to ride on, and then did so, not caring who followed. He could see that a large contingency of the men had accompanied him, while only a few stayed behind to torch the houses along Tenth Street. He covered the few blocks to the square quickly, hoping to get in on the fight. It had been almost two years since he had tasted battle, and he was eager to feel the rush of assault again. However, once he got to the square, he realized Quantrill and Lewis had not organized their attack as well as he had hoped. The 8thCavalry appeared to be ready
Carey was furious. “This is my aunt and uncle’s farm!” he was yelling, bringing his horse between the torch men and the shed they had just lit on fire. “You have direct orders from Quantrill not to touch any of our property or our relations’!”“Sorry! We didn’t know!” an older cross-eyed soldier spat back before riding off. Though it was too late for this particular shed, Carey was hopeful that he could save the rest of the farm from a similar fate. He was leading a small band of marauders into town. Quantrill had split his men into smaller groups so that they could enter the city limits a bit more stealthily. They would meet back up at the courthouse directly. Carey had given very specific directions to everyone as to which houses were to be spared, this being one of them, but apparently these outlaws had not listened as closely as he would have liked, and he began to fear for the safety of his father who was likely sleep
A few hours into Will’s vigil, he realized that Julia’s breathing had changed. The door to her bedroom was ajar, and he could hear his aunt bustling around, keeping herself busy. “Aunt Margaret,” he said as loudly as he could muster. “I think you should probably come in here.”Margaret had been present at quite a few deaths over the years. Thankfully, most of them had been the passing of elderly members of her family, such as her grandparents, though she had watched her mother breath her last at the age of fifty-two. She had always regretted not being there for her brother and his wife, Will’s parents, but they had lived such reclusive lives. She didn’t even know they were sick until after they had passed. Entering the room, she could tell immediately that Julia’s time had come. Her breathing was very shallow and uneven. Several seconds passed between breaths. Catching Will’s eye, Margaret nodded solemnly.He
Cordia’s parents were elated to see her, though hearing of the circumstances that brought her diminished their joy significantly. They invited Zachariah in, but he declined, thinking his mother may need him back at the house. He knew that, once Julia had passed, his mother would be extremely emotional, and he wanted to be there to comfort her.Once Frieda had greeted her, she disappeared into the kitchen, pouring drinks and preparing something for Cordia to eat. Though she protested that she was not hungry, Frieda insisted that she would need her strength. Cordia joined her parents in the parlor, feeling awkwardly like a guest in what was, until very recently, her own home for so long. She sat on the duvet across from her parents, who sat in their usual chairs. The fire was blazing in the fireplace, and Cordia suddenly became very aware of how cold she had been, despite her heavy winter coat.“Well, Cordia, dear,” her mother began. “How have you