“Oh, no, this is fine,” the woman said. As they walked arm in arm, Nate noticed the man had a distinct limp. When he turned to sit, he grimaced some, but only for a moment before giving his wife a radiant smile.
“My Ellie is a blessing to me,” he said. “She gives this old soldier life again.”
“You were in the Army?” Nate paused at his camera.
“The War Between the States,” the man said as his wife arranged herself next to him on the settee. “Bullet hit my knee, and I’ve never been the same since. I was lucky to keep my leg.” His features drew in, as if he was remembering the exact moment. “What a loss of life. It’s a miracle I escaped with only a lame leg.”
Nate swallowed. The man’s words hit far too close to home. He gripped the camera, trying to focus on what needed doing rather than falling headfirst into his customer’s story and drowning. “Let me get some plates. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
He strode to the darkroom, closing the door behind him and taking deep breaths. This was not the only time he was going to run into a fellow soldier; in fact, it was already the second. He needed to remain calm and businesslike. But as he stood there, he realized it wasn’t the old memories that were trying to push their way into his mind.
It was Ruthann.
Nate gripped the plates he’d picked up. She’d come to mind because of the couple in his studio. Because of the gentle way the woman had helped her husband, because of the love that shone in both their eyes . . . because of the acceptance she’d shown of his old wound.
All Nate could see was the man’s injured leg, but based on what he’d said, he wondered if there wasn’t more the man had struggled with. Or that he continued to struggle with.
And yet, he was—by all appearances—happily married.
Suddenly wanting to spend more time with the couple, he emerged from the darkroom. As he prepared the camera and instructed the two on how to sit and where to look, he asked questions. As it turned out, he didn’t need to ask many. Both the man and his wife were happy to tell him about how they’d fallen in love. How she’d been widowed and he’d gone for years and years unable to find what he was looking for.
“Because,” he said to Nate with a knowing smile, “I was looking to forgive myself. I just didn’t know it until I met Ellie.”
If Nate hadn’t been holding on to the camera, the man’s words would have sent him falling backward in surprise.
“Ellie saved my life.” The old soldier reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand.
“I do love you, too, Micah, but if we don’t let this young man get on with his work, we’ll be keeping him all night.” The woman smiled kindly at her husband.
Nate went through the motions of taking their photograph. While they sat as still as possible and he waited for the exposure, he ran the man’s words through his head again.
I was looking to forgive myself.
Was that what Nate needed too?
Yes.
The answer came like a gunshot through his mind, tearing through the specters of the past, through all his doubts and fears, through his inability to tell Ruthann what he’d experienced.
It made no sense whatsoever. How would forgiving himself help him keep Ruthann safe? Even if he did, it was no guarantee he could pick up a pistol without falling apart.
But as he watched the couple, he wondered. Was it forgiveness that made the man whole again?
There was no way to be sure, but as he finished the session and thanked the couple, he knew he wanted it.
He wanted everything they had for himself—peace, forgiveness, love. The question was whether he was brave enough to pursue it. And there was no way to find out unless he took the first step.
He would not be a coward about this.
Nate tucked away the plates with the couple’s image in his darkroom. He would develop them in the morning. Right now, he needed to see Ruthann.
He’d just grabbed his hat and buttoned his jacket when the studio door opened. But it wasn’t a customer this time.
It was Sissy Flagler.
