Honor in the Dust by Gilbert Morris Page B

give a full answer to that, for indeed it was far past the time when Claiborn should have returned. She turned and walked into the house, and for the rest of the day repeated the man’s words in her mind.
“I thought Master Claiborn was due back by now.”
    That night when Stuart came to the table, he saw that his mother seemed worried. “Are you worried, Mother?”
    â€œA little bit.”
    â€œIt’s about Father, isn’t it?”
    â€œI wish he’d come home. He’s been gone so long.”
    There had been no more trouble with Hyde, other than one unpleasant visit. He had come to the door and said, “I’ve bought the mortgage on your place from James Widell, the man who let ’im borrow on it. You’ll make the payments to me now and not to him.”
    â€œYes, Mr. Hyde, I’ll tell my husband.”
    â€œNot home yet, I hear.”
    â€œNo, not yet.”
    â€œHow do you know he wasn’t killed in battle?”
    â€œHe wasn’t, Sir. I will tell him what you said about the mortgage.” She shut the door, thinking,
He’ll take our farm if he ever gets the chance.
She was not a woman who was greatly afraid of things, but this particular fear she could not put aside.

    A month after Hyde’s visit, Stuart ran in. “It’s a man in a wagon, mother! Somebody’s in it!”
    Grace’s heart suddenly seemed to stop beating for a moment. She ran outside.
    A small man with sunburned, leathery skin and only one arm was standing by a horse and wagon. “I’m looking for Mrs. Winslow,” he said.
    â€œI’m Mrs. Winslow.”
    â€œI’m Yale Wyatt. I done brought your husband home, Mrs. Winslow.”
    She hurried to the wagon. Claiborn was lying wrapped in a blanket on a bed of straw. “Claiborn!” Hastily she climbed into the wagon and knelt beside her husband. “Claiborn, it’s me, Grace.” His face was uncovered, and she could see that he was emaciated and flushed. His eyes were unfocused and he did not respond to her.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with him?” she asked.
    â€œWell, besides his wounds, he’s lain out in the open in the rain. His leg is pretty much healed up. We didn’t have to cut itoff like we thought, but he got lung fever or something. He ain’t got no strength at all, ma’am, and for the last few days of our journey, he hasn’t said a word.”
    Stuart climbed up on the wagon wheel to look down at them. The sight of his father’s face frightened him. “He’s so sick, Mother!”
    â€œYes, Stuart, but we’ll see him back to health.”
    â€œI’ll help you take him in, ma’am, if you’ll show me the way.”
    â€œI’ll go make a place in the house.” She turned and went inside the house and made up the bed. She went back and saw that the soldier had pulled Claiborn upright. Claiborn’s eyes were filled with fever, but suddenly he gave her a weary smile. “Well, I’m here, what’s left of me, Grace.”
    Her heart surged with hope. “Claiborn, I’m so glad you’re home!”
    â€œWhere’s Stuart?”
    â€œI’m right here, Father. I’ll help you take him in, sir.”
    â€œThat’s good. Two of us can handle it. I lost my flipper in the same battle.”
    Wyatt and Stuart helped Claiborn stand. When the blanket fell back, Grace saw the dirty clothing hanging on him as though on a scarecrow. Her stomach turned as she considered the miseries her husband had endured.
    They laid him on the bed, and she helped him put his feet up. He winced at the movement, growing more pale with every inch he crossed. But at last he was settled.
    As for Stuart, he could not believe this was his father. Claiborn had left months before, the very picture of a strong, active, and healthy man. This scarecrow that had returned clearly frightened him. He hung back. But when Grace