The General

   Eliza Hardings rung her hands together, attempting to twist the anxious shaking from them. The war had ended five weeks ago. He had promised he would return within three weeks of the war. It had been five weeks since the nation had been rejoined and General Adams hadn't been seen or heard from. The worst of thoughts ran through her mind. What if he had been killed at the Battle of Gettysburg? What if he was seriously injured? What if he just decided he didn't love her anymore? Decided that she wasn't worth returning to?  She tried to go about her chores on the farm, but the anxiety for General Adams's safety was ever present on her mind. Would she ever know what had happened to him?
   She sat on the old milking stool by the cow. As the milk plopped into the tin bucket, the tears began to run down her cheeks. When she heard the barn door creak open a minute later she furiously wiped the tears from her face. Her step-father loathed when she cried. He called her weak, a coward who couldn't face the world. If her mother could only see how her second husband was treating her daughter now that she was gone. "Sorry sir," she said as the footsteps approached. She braced herself for the slap that was sure to come. The man was right behind her, yet no stinging slap came.
    "Eliza?" A deep voice questioned. Her breath caught in her throat. She feared turning around, feared that she had only imagined the beloved voice. A gentle hand touched her shoulder as he whispered her name again, "Eliza."
     In a second she was on her feet, staring silently at General Jared Adams. His blond hair had grown since she had last seen him, almost two months ago. His blue eyes seemed locked on hers. An open gash ran down the right side of his face. She reached out, her fingers softly trailing over the mark. He smiled down at her before pulling her to him. Five weeks had been too long for both of them. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly.
    The door to the barn flew open, startling both Jared and Eliza. Her step-father, Edward, loomed in the doorway. The expression on his face was nearly as dark as the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. "Who are you?" Edward's words slurred together: he had been drinking far too much again. Eliza clutched her skirt tightly with her fists to hid the shaking of her hands. She knew what her step-father was capable of; she had been the victim of his violent fits more than once.
    Jared stepped forward, placing himself between Eliza and the drunken man. "General Jared Adams of the Union, sir." Jared stuck his out towards Edward. The older man just stared at it for a moment before Jared lowered it.
  "Get out of my barn."
   "Yes, sir," Jared reached behind him, taking her hand in his, "Come on Eliza."  Her knees felt weak, fear constricted her breathing: she thought she might pass out. As the couple came closer to Edward he stepped into their path, pulling a revolver from the band of his pants.
  "She's not going anywhere, solider." The gun swung lazily from Eliza to Jared and back again. Fear paralyzed her. For four years she had lived with the constant cloud of fear hanging over her heart. Jared dropped her hand, and then lunged towards Edward, attempting to wrestle the gun from him. A shot sounded and the bullet ricocheted across the building, striking a wooden beam.
   Jared was stronger than her step-father, and managed to get the gun away from him before tossing it across the barn.  With one punch to the face, Edward was sprawled unconscious on the dirt floor.  "Come on," Jared beckoned her forward. They walked out of the barn, leaving the drunken man where he had fallen.
   Jared's blue eyes pierced hers, "Is there anything you need to get?"
  Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.
  "Is there anything you need to get before we leave?" He clarified.
   She shook her head, her dark brown hair swinging over her thin shoulders, "No, I have nothing of value." He didn't wait for her to say anything else before he lifted her onto his horse. General Adams mounted behind her and nudged the horse with his heels. As they began to ride away, Eliza almost swore she could hear a scream followed by a gunshot. She shuddered and leaned back against the young general. She was safe now. Fear could no longer be her companion.