“I never understood how a woman lacked opportunities. It was the way of things, but I think these groups speaking of women’s rights have a point.”
“You do?” Cora tried to hide her surprise.
“I know, not what you were expecting.” Ed clung to her hand as if he wanted to keep her always by his side. “I think when we were at Woodward Gardens, I too had an epiphany. The thought of any woman being forced to marry Mr. Grous would be unfair and unreasonable, yet someday, a woman will have no choice but to take him as her husband to survive. No woman should fall to such a fate.”
Cora leaned in, hoping he heard her meaning behind her words. “Thank you for giving me options.”
He kissed her hand and held it to his cheek for a moment. “I only want the best for you when this is all over.”
Cora took in a breath of courage and decided to find out how he truly felt about her. “What if it’s you I want?”
He retreated and set her hand on the table. “I told you that isn’t possible. I can give you opportunities but not a family.”
She scooted to the edge of her chair and ensnared his arm, willing him to listen. “It’s okay that you can’t have children. There are so many children who need a home.”
He snapped a sideways, questioning brow at her. “I never said I couldn’t have children.”
“Yes, you did.”
He abandoned his fork once more and turned to face her. “I have no reason to believe I can’t have children.”
Cora’s heart soared. Everything she wanted poured into her. “Then we can have a family.”
“No. I won’t. “
Her joy plummeted into a confusing, whirling pit.
“I won’t bring children into this world to face starvation and poverty.” His voice rose and his expression twisted. “I won’t hold another boy as he gasps for air, only to die in my arms.” His voice cracked and his head bowed.
Such pain etched on the lines around his eyes.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Cora stroked his back, which rose and fell with stuttered breaths.
“I had to see both my parents, two brothers, and a sister die from sickness and starvation. Abandoned my sister at an orphanage so she could have a chance because I couldn’t allow another person to die while I lived.”
“You told me you were a boy when you left. It wasn’t your responsibility to protect and care for your family.”
“I was the eldest boy. Itwasmy duty. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your family wither away one by one. Their puffy cheeks fading to gaunt skeletons. If you did, you’d never want to bring another child into this world.”
Cora rested her head on his shoulder and slid her arm around his back, attempting to provide him with comfort the way he’d comforted her. “I have.”
Ed sat up, scrubbing his face free of any unmanly tears. “To war, and you weren’t the eldest son. It wasn’t your responsibility.”
Cora’s memories churned and burned. “It became mine. My brothers were all dead, my sister left to accept a marriage proposal with our cousin in hopes of bringing us girls to his land to survive, but when she arrived, he was dead. I became the eldest and the one to protect and care for my sisters.”
“Did they all survive?”
Cora knew that gave him a way out, to say she didn’t understand his truth. “Physically, but sometimes there are worse things than death. You know my sister, Josephine, was attacked by a Union soldier and ruined. My brother tried to save her and was murdered. There were many nights we had nothing but a curtain for a door after our home was burned out. We slept in one bed, shivering and clinging to one another to survive. No food, no shelter, no hope.”
Ed rested his head to hers. “I’m sorry you suffered so. But you only proved why I don’t want to bring children into this world. I can’t fail someone again. I lay awake at night, worried that this plan will blow up and you’ll end up on the street by my side.”
“Then we’ll pick ourselves up together and make a new opportunity. If there’s one thing I learned after the war, after all the loss and pain, it’s that I’m alive, and as long as I can breathe, there is always hope. If I can go from a burned-out, destroyed plantation home with no prospects to this mansion, it’s proof there is always hope.”
Ed leaned back and studied her face. His gaze drifting from her hair to her eyes, and finally to her mouth. “I can’t. I can’t marry you. I can’t have a family. I’m sorry.”
Cora’s heart twisted like a rag being wrung out. “No, I’m sorry that you don’t want to live. Would your parents and brothers and sisters want you to stop living because they died? Are you really protecting those around you or yourself?”
He pushed away from the table, causing the crystal glasses to clink together.
