LITMIR.BIZ

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      What is he doing here? He has never visited our home before.

      Rebekah Van der Geld watched from her position behind the large oak tree as her father’s chief political rival, State Delegate Harold Nash, stepped from the porch and came down the front walk. The graying widower looked quite pleased with himself, as though he had just secured some grand victory.

      Few men ever smiled after leaving her father’s presence, and yet this particular legislator was whistling happily as he stepped through the front gate and headed up the street. He had just passed her next-door neighbor’s home when Fiona, Rebekah’s maid, spied her behind the tree.

      “There you are, miss,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you! You must hurry! Your father wants ya!”

      Rebekah’s stomach immediately knotted. She brushed her clothing. “Am I presentable?”

      Fiona twirled her about. “There’s mud along your back hemline,” she said, “but I daresay you haven’t time to change. Perhaps he won’t notice.”

      He will notice, Rebekah thought, and he will be angry. She knew, though, there was nothing she could do to remedy that now. Her father would be even angrier if she didn’t come straightaway.

      Resigning herself to the inevitable, Rebekah hurried inside. The door to the study was ajar, but she knocked upon it just the same. She had been told more than once never to step into the room without her father’s permission.

      “Enter,” he commanded.

      Drawing a quick breath, Rebekah did so. Her father was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back. Theodore Van der Geld was not a particularly large man, but his stern voice and iron hand were enough to intimidate most everyone with whom he came in contact, especially his daughter.

      Rebekah positioned herself near his desk just so, hoping he would not noticed her soiled dress. “You wished to see me, sir?”

      “Indeed,” he said without turning around. “The time has come for you to wed.”

      Wed? The air rushed from Rebekah’s lungs. Had she heard him correctly? If she had, then just whom was she supposed to marry? She had no suitors, at least none of whom she was aware. No young man had dared come calling for fear of facing her father.

      And yet as shocking as this announcement was, deep down she had always known her father would orchestrate her marriage. He had arranged everything else in her life, and every decision he made was filtered through the lens of his own political benefit. Having become a successful state legislator, he now wanted to be governor.

      Apparently he is going to hand me over to some well-connected gentleman in order to support his campaign. But whom?

      Then she remembered Harold Nash’s unprecedented visit, and the smile on his face as he walked away. A sickening feeling swept over her. Oh no! Surely not!

      The man was more than twice her age, and up until today, her father had despised him. Harold Nash had voted against President Lincoln, had vehemently defended slave owners’ rights all throughout last year’s constitutional convention and had worked to delay outlawing the detestable practice of slavery for months.

      And to be given to such a man! Rebekah feared her knees were going to buckle.

      “You will marry Henry Nash,” her father announced, turning to judge her reaction.

      Henry Nash? Rebekah struggled to process this news. So I am to be handed over to the delegate’s son? While the man was closer to her age, she felt little relief at the prospect. To marry him was to become not only a wife but immediately a mother, as well. The man had recently taken charge of his two orphaned nieces. Word was their father had fallen in battle while serving the rebel army, and their mother had died in childbirth.

      None of this makes any sense! Rebekah thought. Why was her father so insistent on this match? Henry Nash had strong ties to the Confederacy, and her father had once called him a self-serving coward because he had not held office in the United States Army.

      “Father, I don’t understand...”

      She should have known better than to question him, for the moment she did, Theodore Van der Geld stormed out from behind his desk. His eyes were wide. The veins in his neck were bulging.

      “I do not expect you to understand,” he shouted. “I expect you to obey! I expect you to do your duty!”

      Rebekah immediately lowered her chin, stared at the floor. She dared not raise her eyes. She knew what would happen if she did.

      When he spoke again, his voice had softened slightly. It was the same tone he used when addressing a crowd of potential voters. “Your marriage to Henry Nash will take place within the next few weeks,” he said. “The ceremony will coincide quite nicely with our nation’s victory celebrations.”

      The long, desperate war between the states was finally drawing to a close. The nation had been preserved, but all Rebekah could think of now was her own impending union. Terror overwhelmed her. Yes, she wished to marry someday. She also wished for children, but most important, she wished for love. How was she to love a man she barely knew?

      Please don’t make me do this! I don’t want to do this! But she knew her father would not listen to her pleas, let alone grant them. He waved her away like a simple servant. “Go to your room.”

      Rebekah went obediently, knowing that in his mind, the marriage had been firmly decided, and she was powerless to alter his decision. Her only hope was that Henry Nash would somehow change his mind.

      * * *

      “You agreed to what?” Henry’s jaw literally dropped when he heard the news. “You told Theodore Van der Geld I would marry his daughter? Why on earth would you do such a thing? Why on earth would he even suggest it?”

      Harold Nash, a shrewd man at best and conniving at worst, simply smiled. “The man wants to be the next governor, and he knows he can’t win the office without our help.”

      “Our help?”

      “Yes, by gaining the confidence of those who supported me in the past and those who will support you in the future.”

      Henry groaned. Now he saw the truth of the matter. His father wasn’t running for reelection, but that didn’t mean he was finished with his political scheming. Ever since Henry had expressed a possible interest in campaigning for his father’s seat in the state legislature, Harold Nash had taken it upon himself to become his political advisor. “So you orchestrated all of this?”

      The veteran politician laughed. “Of course not. Van der Geld did, but I am smart enough to recognize an opportunity for your advancement when it is presented.”

      “By mortgaging my future?”

      “You want to have a say in what goes on in this state, don’t you?”

      Of course Henry did, but this was not at all how he wanted to go about it. Deal making and deal breaking, flattery and false alliances had led to war. After four years of killing, peace was finally within reach. Richmond had fallen. Lee and his army had surrendered. The nation, however, had to be reconstructed carefully, and so did his own state.

      Although Maryland had not declared secession, there were many in the state who had chosen to fight for the Confederacy. As a Baltimore city councilman, Henry had dealt with his share of people, both prounion and sympathetic to the South, who were hot for revenge. Loved ones had been lost, property damaged, dreams destroyed.

      There is still a lot of healing to be done.

      Henry had worked hard to ensure that his reputation as a councilman was that he was fair and trustworthy. He held his office honestly and kept it that way by maintaining an open, forthright dialogue with the mayor, his fellow council members and the people of his city. His yes was always a yes and his no a no. He was determined to go about matters the same way should he win the bid for state delegate.

      If

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