The sun rode low on the horizon, and he was ready to hand Gillian over to her father in time to find a place to stay for the night. “Do you know where your father’s townhouse is?”
“Of course. It’s on Dogwood Lane.”
“Hear that, Nelly? We’re going to Dogwood Lane. Yee hup.”
Gillian managed a tight smile before turning her head to gaze out at the passing countryside.
As they came up on the most prosperous farm along the dirt road, Gillian shot up. “Stop.”
What was she up to now? Alex pulled back on the reins and watched her scramble from the buggy in a flash of yellow batiste and ruffled petticoats. She ran to a lone man hoeing in a vegetable garden.
He shoved the brake in place and struck out after Gillian. She might have recognized the man, but at this point, Alex trusted no one.
One thing he’d learned about Georgia. Heat didn’t let up when the sun went down. It lingered in the form of a heavy blanket that weighed down every movement. He pulled out his thick cotton handkerchief to absorb the sweat forming on his forehead.
Gillian was already in animated conversation with the man as Alex approached them. “Captain Blaine, this is Saul Kennebrew. He’s always held the most acreage on Lynwood and one of the best farmers around.”
Kennebrew’s face split into a grin. His lined, leathered face confirmed he spent most of his life outdoors. The men nodded to each other.
Gillian leaned her head back so she could see from beneath her wide bonnet brim. “Mr. Kennebrew, I thought you farmed that area down the road, but it looks abandoned.”
Kennebrew brushed his hands across the legs of his overalls in a futile attempt to clean them. “The place was burned down over our heads, Miss Carey. We had to move.”
“Have they caught who did it?” Alex asked.
“No sir, more’s happened since, but I armed all my boys. They stay clear of here, or have so far.”
“Papa would never have allowed such lawlessness.” Gillian turned away from Alex, but he heard the uncertainty in her voice. Her shoulders quivered, and he feared she’d start weeping again at any moment.
Sympathy flared, hitting Alex with the insane notion of taking her in his arms. She’d returned to find no welcome and her home sold. Attacked by thieves. Shot at.
He had to get her away from here.
His eyes lifted to the sky where the last streaks of sun spilled out over the tree line. He had one more question for Kennebrew. “When did the vandalism and burnings start?”
“Six months ago, when Mr. Carey sold out. It started the next week with Gabe Bennett’s fence cut, but we didn’t think anything about it then.”
Alex lifted his cap and mopped his forehead and neck with the handkerchief. Not enough breeze to move a leaf. “Has Richard Lyman done you right?”
The man shrugged one shoulder. “He don’t know nothing. I don’t have nothing against him, but he don’t know nothing. I’ve got things going here, but folks who don’t know the land are having trouble.”
Gillian’s eyes narrowed, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Probably holding back words. Not knowing what to think.
Alex resettled his hat. The situation for her was heart-breaking. She’d lost her whole world, and while she’d known that in her mind, nothing could have prepared her for reality. “It’s going to get dark. We have to go, so we’ll say good-evening.” He took Gillian firmly by the elbow. All the strength seemed to be sapped out of her, and he lifted her up onto the buggy’s seat.
She looked stoically ahead. “I don’t care what you think. My father wouldn’t be mixed up in this.”
The shimmer of tears hovered at the corners of those large, blue eyes. Her shoulders slumped as she wadded a lacy handkerchief in her hands. She looked so much like a wounded child, he had to fight the urge to comfort her. He already knew how strong she could be, and she’d need all her strength now. No telling what lay ahead.
“I always reserve judgment in these matters.”
She hadn’t been properly prepared. Everyone who wrote to her kept things back. Maybe that was natural since she was little more than a child. But she had to accept the truth.
It was probably a good thing her father had moved from the ancestral home. Familiar surroundings intensified the sting of loss. “It’s going to hit you all at once,” he said.
“What?”
“You lost your brothers…your mother. You know that already, and no doubt, picture them in heaven, but you won’t understand the loss until you get home, and they’re not there. The loss of a loved one leaves a hole that takes a long time to fill. Just be prepared for that.”
She turned around to look him full in the face. “You’ve lost someone too?”
“Yeah, I lost someone too.”
Chapter 4
The darkness of a cloud-covered night sky had descended by the time they drove up to the townhouse. Lights beckoned from every window of the first floor, and sconces glowed on either side of the massive front door. Her mother’s gardenias, hovering in the shadows, scented the air.
Those doubts Gillian had banished came barging back in. The house appeared like the one fastened to her memory, but it held a foreboding atmosphere. Maybe because of the darkness. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling and sat gripping the buggy seat, unable to move.
No, the night—even the fog creeping in—didn’t explain it. She’d built up unreasonable expectations in her mind. Her father wouldn’t welcome her as he had in her mind’s eye. He’d always been aloof, distant, without much affection for her or her brothers. Now, a strange woman had taken her mother’s place. Will was not here to defend her.
“Gillian.” Alex stood beside her, his hand outstretched. The streetlight shone in his darkened eyes, revealing a look of concern. As little as she knew of him, she found him a comfort. She pressed her lips into a tight smile and lay her hand in his.
Alex’s warning that reality would hit her full force proved true. Everything was as she remembered, but it would never be the same. She called to mind summers of her childhood. Such parties had been given here. Important, richly dressed ladies and gentlemen had paraded up and down these marble steps she and Alex climbed.
She slipped him a worried glance. He wanted to speak to Papa about the disturbance at Lynwood, but she hoped he wouldn’t tonight.
Alex reached over her shoulder to work the bronze knocker. A tall, stately dark man with kinky graying hair opened the door. Jim, the butler who’d been in the family since before Gillian was born. He, as well as all the Carey servants, was offered his freedom at any time. There was but one catch, they’d have to leave because Georgia didn’t recognize free ex-slaves. Now all would be free, but Jim had stayed.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Don’t you remember me, Jim?”
Jim leaned in, his black eyes squinting hard. “Miz Gillian? Is that you?” His face cracked into a broad grin showing strong, white teeth despite his age. “Lor, it is. You’ve growed a foot, and that’s the truth. An’ turned into an angel to boot.”
Overcome by emotion, Gillian grabbed him in a bear hug, laughing to keep the tears at bay. She stepped back and inclined her head to Alex. “This is Captain Blaine. He escorted me from Savannah.” They nodded to each other and she asked, “Where is Papa?”
“In his study. He warnt ‘specting you till later on.” Jim shook his head as if not believing what he saw. “Wait till I tell Maudie. She’ll whoop loud enough to wake up the whole town.”
“I want to see her right after Papa.” Maudie had been their housekeeper ever since she’d married Jim.
“Maybe I should warn him.” Jim’s tone turned sober.
“No, I want to surprise him.”
“You sho do that.” Jim laughed as she headed toward Papa’s study, Alex’s boots pounding the wooden floor behind her.
The study door hung open. Papa stood by the window, his back to her. Always the gentleman, he wore black jacket
and matching trousers. His stylish, short salt-and pepper hair just topped the stand-up collar of his white shirt.
Gillian took two steps forward. “Papa.”
He whirled around at the sound of her voice. A flash of astonishment showed in his gray eyes as the moments ticked off. His mouth, nearly hidden by a short, full beard, broke into a smile that came too late to be genuine but managed to transform his tired, somber face into one of mature, rugged handsomeness.
His tepid welcome covered her like a wet blanket. This man was a stranger.
“Gillyflower.”
She ran into his outstretched arms.
He squeezed her until she had to gasp, and a feeling that he tried to convince her of his love tightened her chest. A feeling she recognized from childhood. Releasing her, he held her at arms’ length. “I didn’t expect you until September.”
“A new ship was launched. Grandmother’s chef and his wife wished to move to Atlanta, and I decided to come with them.”
“Oh? It’s nice of them to go out of the way to bring you to Macon.”
She lowered her gaze and ran her fingers under the lapels of his coat. No need to get Papa in a dither straight away. “They couldn’t come with me. Mousier Roguet was injured.” She looked up in time to see his brows rise. “Oh, they have relatives in Savannah. Jacque and Suzette will stay with them until he’s recovered. But the position waiting for him is in Atlanta. Aunt Mandy said chefs were in great demand in Atlanta.”
“He should have no problem finding employment. Atlanta is certainly booming. But why didn’t you telegraph me to come get you?”
She glanced around Papa to see Alex, standing just beyond the study entrance, looking off down the hall. He waited to give them some privacy, yet made it obvious he wanted an introduction.
“I didn’t have to, Papa. As it happened a nice army captain was leaving on the same train, and he provided me escort.” She gave Papa’s chest a pat and, sidling around him, moved toward Alex. He took her cue and stepped inside. “This is Captain Alex Blaine, Papa.” She smiled at Alex, hoping he’d leave after the introduction. “Captain Blaine, my father, Gilbert Carey.”
Papa offered his hand. “I must thank you, Captain Blaine, for watching over my rather petulant daughter. She means the world to me.”
Gillian bit her lip. Did she?
“My pleasure, sir.” Alex shook Papa’s hand affably enough, but Gillian wondered what he really thought. After all the trouble she’d been, it couldn’t have been a pleasure. “I won’t take up any of your time tonight, but I’d like to speak to you about some town issues tomorrow if I might.”
“Of course. I’m here most days after four o’clock, but I expect I’ll spend the whole of tomorrow with Gillian.”
“I understand.” Alex rested his gaze on Gillian. “Then I’ll bid you both good evening. Do you perhaps know of a good place I could board for the night? I haven’t reported to my commander yet.” Nor had he had dinner. The hunger pangs beginning to gnaw at Gillian’s stomach reminded her of that.
“You need a place to stay?” Papa asked. “I’ve been renting out rooms in the east wing here.”
Gillian blinked. Could she have heard him right? Was he suggesting the captain stay here? A little flutter of delight filled her chest at that possibility. She needed the captain to be handy until she’d questioned him about Will. “What rooms do you rent, Papa?” Were finances so tight Papa had to turn the house into a boarding place?
“At present we only have two boarders—two spinster sisters. You remember Miss Maybelle and Miss Lydee?”
Of course she did. The sweet old maids had operated a millinery before the war. She nodded.
“They have the room beside the bathing room. The suite at the end of the hall would suit the captain, I think.” Papa turned his focus back on Alex. “In early days, it was a nursery and governess room. My elder sons used it before…well, they used it. Their beds are still in place, and with that big oak just outside the windows, it’s shaded and quite comfortable even in this heat.”
“You say you have two rooms together?”
Gillian slanted a gaze at Alex. Interest sparked his eyes. He was seriously considering moving in here. With her.
Papa inclined his head. “That’s right…with a communicating door, but it can be locked. The room comes with breakfast and supper, and we have a mighty good cook.”
Alex looked from Papa to Gillian. His smile warmed her insides, and her face grew hot. Where was a fan when she needed it?
“Lieutenant Duncan is coming in a day or two. We’ll take both rooms. The communicating door will be an advantage since we’ll be able to confer with each other without disturbing the rest of the household.”
Papa frowned. “Having a fourth guest might put a strain on Maudie.” Then he slapped his hands together, a gesture she recognized as something he always did when closing a deal. “But we’ll make do. Jim can bring in your luggage along with Gillian’s and show you where the rooms are located. Would you care to join us for supper tonight?”
“No, thank you. I won’t disturb your time with your daughter tonight. I’ll help Jim with the luggage and take care of the horse.” He shook Papa’s hand again and doffed his hat to Gillian.
In his rush to leave, Alex almost collided with a woman in the hall. Gillian recognized that voice. She charged to greet the housekeeper. “Maudie.”
Maudie hugged Gillian to her soft bosom, and they danced in a circle. How good it felt to be held by someone who really loved her. Of course Grandmother loved her, but she was so stilted. The difference between Grandmother’s embrace and Maudie’s was the difference between hugging a cold, marble statue and a living being. Maudie held nothing back.
And Papa? She supposed he loved her as a father would love his flesh and blood, but it wasn’t the affection she craved.
“Sugar pie, Jim told me you’d growed, but goodness me.” Maudie placed a hand on both of Gillian’s cheeks, pinching them as she had when Gillian was a little girl. “Except for this pretty hair, you’re the spittin’ image of your mama.”
Mama. Gillian glanced at the painting of her mother gracing one wall of the study. She’d tried to avoid it until now. Maudie was wrong. No one could compare with the woman in the portrait.
She didn’t want to think about Mama now. It was time to confront Papa. She didn’t want to discuss Lynwood with Alex present. Maudie didn’t count. She was family.
Leaving Maudie’s warm embrace, she moved the few steps to stand directly in front of Papa. “I got Captain Blaine to take me to Lynwood. Why didn’t you tell me you’d sold it and moved to town?”
Papa eyes stretched wide, whether astonished that she wouldn’t know he’d left Lynwood or because of her boldness, she wasn’t sure. “You didn’t receive my letter?”
“No, I’ve received nothing since January.”
He squeezed her arm. “The mail is still erratic, especially going overseas.”
That was a possible explanation. “But why did you sell…and to a carpetbagger.”
Papa laughter held his usual jovial sound. “Mr. Lyman might be a carpetbagger, Gilly, but he didn’t take advantage of me. I sought him out.”
“But why?”
The smile left his face. Instead of answering, he turned to Maudie. “Has Julia been told Gillian has arrived?”
“Miz Julia’s been told, but she say she’d wait until you had some time with Miss Gillian.”
“That’s all right, Maudie. I’m here.” The husky woman’s voice pulled Gillian’s attention to the door. She had to have been in the hallway. Listening.
Gillian appraised the woman who glided into the room. Julia was a fine figure in mint green organdy lace. Her chestnut hair was a mass of sculptured curls held with emerald combs.
Papa went to her side. “Julia, this is my daughter.”
Gillian’s chest squeezed as she went to her stepmother’s outstretched arm. She pressed her dry lips to the woman’s cool cheek.
“I would have known your daughter anywhere, dear. Haven’t I admired her portrait a hundred times?” Julia’s drawl addressed Papa, but her brown eyes remained fixed on Gillian as she held onto one of her hands. “I don’t suppose you remember, but we played together as little girls.”
Gillian dropped Julia’s limp hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“You probably remember my baby brother better.”
Gillian recalled the adolescent boy who tagged along with her brothers. She also remembered her brothers didn’t like him much and neither did she. “Yes, I remember Reuben.”
“He certainly hasn’t forgotten you. When I told him you were finally coming home, he was beside himself with delight.”
Gillian didn’t know how to respond to that, so she sent a look of appeal to Papa. What did he think of Reuben’s delight?
With a swish of her full skirt, Julia whirled around. “Maudie, we’ll sit down to supper in half an hour. That should give Gillian time to refresh herself from her journey.”
Julia might dismiss Maudie that easily, but not Gillian. She wouldn’t sit down to supper until she had answers. “Papa, when did you sell Lynwood?”
Papa exchanged a look with Julia before turning a beaming smile on Gillian. “I think Julia is right. We can’t hold supper overlong.” He slipped an arm over her shoulder, leading her to the door. “Your room was cleaned and redecorated as soon as we knew you’d be returning, but if you want to change anything, just ask.”
He didn’t want to discuss the matter in front of Julia. Gillian reached up to kiss her father’s cheek. She wouldn’t press him at the moment or in front of Julia, but he wouldn’t put her off long.
***
Alex ate at the first eatery he came to. The chicken and dumplings, peas and corn, and sweet potato pie made him want to let out another notch in his belt. One thing he had to credit the South with was good cooking. After checking his map, he made his way to the boarding house where Major Turley stayed.
The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3) Page 4