Her armor was cracking. Somehow, without her realizing it, Alex had reached through the shell guarding her heart. Despite everything, that hard veneer she’d managed to build over the years was melting.
No use pretending otherwise. She missed him. When he left, he’d sucked the joy out of her life. When he’d played Beautiful Dreamer for her with such feeling, a spark of hope flamed within her that maybe someone could love her. She wasn’t prepared to let that flame go out.
When she got to Aunt Mandy’s, she’d find him.
It might be Alex felt he was in danger in the Carey household. She could hardly blame him. He’d been deliberately shot in his bed.
How could any of them feel safe with a mad shooter on the loose? Major Turley had come and interrogated everyone in the house, and she supposed he was trying to find the perpetrator. Papa had put iron bars across the attic windows and new locks on all outer doors to prevent further break-ins.
Papa didn’t want to talk about it. He was shut as tight as those oysters she’d tried to pry open at one of Lord Brimington’s boring dinner parties. Before she’d learned the trick to it.
Trouble was, she didn’t know how to get Papa to share his thoughts. She found it hard to have any private word with him. Julia hovered over Papa, and Gillian could do nothing but fume. Was it too much to ask for a moment alone with her own father?
Lizzie paid a visit to announce three drifters had been apprehended and charged with vandalism and mischief on the area farms. Three hobos who’d suddenly come into wealth. They admitted they’d been paid to carry out the crimes, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, identify who paid them.
With her father safe, at least for now, she wanted to leave for Atlanta all the more. She must talk to Aunt Mandy. Surely her aunt would know how to contact Alex. Not only did she long to explore her feelings for him and his for her, but he might have made inquiries about Will. He’d promised to let her know about that, and he was a man who kept his promises.
Unfortunately, she had to wait for the Rougets to arrive so she could accompany them to Atlanta. She owed them that much.
Each day dragged like a ball and chain.
Reuben was another reason to escape. He was a pest, calling every morning and evening to discuss business with Papa. However, the business was forgotten if she appeared. She did her best to avoid Reuben, though it wasn’t easy with Julia pushing them together every chance she got.
On Wednesday of the following week, Gillian rejoiced when a wire came in from the Rougets, telling her they’d arrive the following afternoon. They’d spend the night at the house, then they and she would be on their way.
Gillian paced the floors until the French couple finally arrived. Their train from Savannah was late, so there was little time for Julia to insult them before they retired for the night.
Excitement made sleep hard, and Gillian lay in bed counting the seconds until the next morning. At five—an unearthly hour—directly after breakfast, she and the Rougets rumbled away in Papa’s well-sprung carriage.
She wouldn’t have been surprised to find Reuben riding along beside. If Alex hadn’t come into her world, would she have disliked Reuben so much? There was no answer, but in her mind and heart, there was no comparison between the men, either.
Anxiety that she couldn’t find Alex in Atlanta rode with her all the way. Even with Aunt Mandy’s help, it might be weeks before she saw him again. If ever.
Logically, she knew there could be nothing between them. Yet something about him attracted her more than his handsome face. Something she ought not dwell on.
As the countryside flew by, she pushed those thoughts away like pesky flies at a county fair pie-eating contest and leaned against the seatback. This compartment was brand new and a vast improvement to those she remembered from England. She gazed out the surprisingly clean window, half listening to a mother reading a fairy tale to her child.
The war had actually improved railroads. While the rebuilt rails and new steam engines weren’t exactly luxurious, they were fairly comfortable and certainly faster than she remembered rail travel to be as a child.
Since the train wasn’t crowded, she had a seat to herself with Jacque and Suzette two seats behind her—an arrangement that suited her. She wanted time to think.
Whatever Aunt Mandy had in mind, she knew it would be an adventure. Her childhood memories of her aunt were filled with adventure.
Amanda Brown had grown up in the shadow of her beautiful older sister, Gillian’s mother. Perhaps because she’d felt inadequate to Mama, she’d engaged in antics to gain attention. And oh my, she had gained attention. Still did.
No wonder Gillian had felt a kindred spirit to Aunt Mandy. Neither had been able to compete with Lynette. Though Gillian loved her mother, she preferred the company of her flamboyant aunt, and Amanda had frequently “borrowed” Gillian to keep Lizzie company.
The further north they traveled, the more evidence of war could be seen. Buildings stood abandoned and overrun with vines and brush.
Then she noticed something new. Small towns had sprung up along the way, each centered around a country store not far from the rail tracks. She’d been told Yankee jobbers and hucksters set up these general mercantile stores after the war. When the train stopped at these small towns, an assortment of traders boarded. She set her small carpetbag on the empty seat beside her to discourage any of them from sitting beside her.
The train slowed as they entered the outskirts of Atlanta, and Gillian’s jaw dropped at how much the city had grown. The place was abuzz with new shops and businesses. Even over the clanging of the train, the sound of hammering and the shouts of construction workers could be heard.
She craned her neck to get a better view as they approached the depot. Aunt Mandy had written she’d have someone meet her and the Rougets.
As she closed the novel she’d tried to read, the train swayed and tilted, catching her off balance. A loud crash pierced her ears, followed by a jolt that slammed her against the back of the seat in front.
Pandemonium broke out. Women screamed. Men cursed. Everyone held onto whatever they could grab. With no time to think, Gillian dropped to the floor and held onto the seat’s legs, fear crushing her to the floor. She’d heard about train wrecks before, and now all the horror stories loomed before her. Expecting to be dashed to bits at any moment, she didn’t realize the train had stopped until some seconds had passed.
Smoke filled the car. Please Lord, don’t let it catch fire.
She coughed, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her pounding heart and darted a glance at the mass of people huddled together, trying to get into the aisle. Pressed between a crying woman in a large feathered hat sitting at a crazy angle and a tall man holding a terrified child, Jacque and Suzette shoved toward her.
“Are you all right, Mademoiselle?” Jacque called out.
“I think so.” She jostled out into the space they made for her.
It seemed to take forever for the people in front to clear the entrance. Finally she saw daylight and gulped in fresh air. Thank You, Lord, thank you. She’d never take another breath for granted again.
The train car tilted up at the engine, placing the door at least five feet from the ground. They’d almost made it to the depot’s platform, but not quite.
The large woman standing directly in front of Gillian blocked the door. Her male companion had apparently jumped to the ground with the child, and it took him and two porters to get the woman off the train.
Gillian crouched at the exit, waiting for the men to assist her. But the woman preceding her had fainted, and the employees gathered around her prostrate form, apparently forgetting the rest of the passengers. Frustrated, Gillian turned to ask Jacque to disembark so he could help her and Suzette.
A familiar deep voice stopped her. “Can I be of assistance, Miss Carey?”
Alex’s hazel eyes showed his concern.
“Captain Blaine.” Alex? What was he doing here at the depot?
Waiting for her? Though his injured arm was still in the sling, he reached with it, along with his good one, to place his hands around her waist. She supported herself on his firm shoulders as he lifted her down, holding her in mid-air for a couple of seconds before setting her on firm ground.
“Thank you, captain.” Her rubber legs forced her to hold onto his shoulder for a bit longer while Jacque scrambled off the train.
“Captain? I thought I was Alex to you? Have you forgotten I’m Alex, the Great?” He grinned before turning to help Jacque assist Suzette down.
With the French couple safely off the train and waiting to collect the luggage, Alex wrapped his good arm around Gillian’s shoulders and steered her away from the turmoil. “Your aunt asked me to meet your train. Of course she didn’t expect it to wreck.”
“You know my aunt?”
He grinned wider, obviously enjoying her surprise. “Everyone in Atlanta knows Amanda Brown.”
Not satisfied with his non-answer, she shifted her gaze ahead. She’d wait to ask Aunt Mandy how she came to know Alex Blaine. Whatever the explanation, he certainly had a knack for finding her in dire straits. “Thank you for becoming my guardian angel.”
He laughed and she found the deep, jovial sound as appealing as she remembered. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been called an angel.”
“And probably the last.” She joined in his laughter and widened her strides to match his. “How is your arm?”
“Doing well. I told you it was probably only a flesh wound, though it hit a small blood vessel. It wasn’t bad enough to delay my new orders.”
“You seem to take it too casually. It was an attempt on your life, and under my father’s roof. Yet I can’t get anyone to explain who would do such a thing and why.”
“The reason for that may be because no one knows.”
“Were these new orders of yours given to remove you from danger?”
He frowned. “No, I didn’t want to leave. Originally my orders were to train under Major Turley until his retirement later in the year, but General Terry, here in Atlanta, needed an assistant until someone can be found to replace the man who was recently killed.”
She wished he’d withheld that last bit of information. It brought to mind just how dangerous his job could be, and how dangerous this land still was years after the war ended. With some effort, she tapped those negative thoughts down to be examined later. “Major Turley is in charge of Macon? Will you get a promotion?” She wasn’t too sure of military rank, but was pretty sure major came after captain.
“Turley commands the whole district, but it’s possible Georgia may be returned to civilian government soon. I could get a promotion out of it, but the assignment probably won’t last long.”
“Then where will you go?”
“Probably out west to command some out-of-the way fort.”
She twisted her lips, not liking that idea either, although it shouldn’t be of any concern to her. He found her a bench away from the commotion. “I see Jacque is having trouble with the luggage. Let me find him some help, and I’ll return to take you to your aunt’s.”
Alex took charge, giving orders right and left—to the depot workers, to Jacque and the men clearing the wreckage. Apparently the train had jumped the tracks, but not by much—thankfully. All the passengers escaped unscathed, but the thought of how much worse it could have been left her shaken.
Don’t borrow trouble, Grandmother would say.
When Alex returned, she stood. He took her by the elbow and propelled her away from the crowd of curiosity seekers, clearing the way more by his air of authority than his uniform.
Out on the street, he directed her to a smart carriage with a liveried colored man sitting upon the driver’s seat. She suspected the carriage belonged to her aunt and uncle. It appeared too elegant to belong to the army.
He held her hand as she stepped aboard, and his touch sent an electric charge up her arm that burned even after he released her. Never had she known a man to have such a vibrant touch. Nor to look so devilishly handsome.
Sitting opposite her, he folded his long legs, brushing them against her skirt in the process, but she knew it wasn’t on purpose as the cads she’d known before might have done. His innocent smile indicated he didn’t even notice.
She tried to take in the sights and sounds, but found her gaze drifting back to the man beside her. Despite the distasteful uniform, she had to admit his muscular frame enhanced it, emphasizing that aura of power and authority he carried so well.
While beards were the custom, he was clean shaven. She liked that, and the way his dark brown hair tapered at the sides to long sideburns, and raffish locks fell over his forehead. And those hazel eyes, turning from green to brown with a glint of gold. She dared not look too long into those eyes.
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she chided herself for noticing. She shouldn’t invest affection for a soldier who’d admitted his time was short. Her life was complicated enough without that.
But she was so glad to see him again.
She forced her attention from his gaze to take in the sights and sounds around her. The huge building they passed had obviously been built onto. “Does the depot stretch all this way?”
“Yes, rebuilt a couple of years ago. You’re very lucky, Gillian. If the train hadn’t been moving at a crawl, you could have been seriously injured.”
“What happened to cause the accident?”
“It jumped the tracks. I can’t say why, but I intend to find out.”
The vehemence in his voice made her ask, “Why is it up to you?”
He gave her the same kind of look he might a six-year-old. “Because the State owns the railroad, and at present, the army is responsible for the State’s interests.”
That arrogant tone again. It set off a nerve in her. “When is the army ever going to leave the State to its own business?” She shot the words at him like arrows.
“You know the answer to that, Gillian. The army was withdrawn last year. The Democrats denied the lawfully elected colored representatives their seats, and the army was called back. The army will stay until the State legislature agrees to obey federal law.”
And she thought she could have feelings for this arrogant Yankee. Yes, she knew all this, and it only swelled her hackles more. “However just your argument is, men’s hearts can’t change in an instant. It takes time.”
“On the contrary, Gillian. Christ changed my heart in an instant when I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior.”
Her chin fell and the retort died in her throat. He’d managed to check-mate her before she could make a move, and her anger deflated. She hadn’t even considered him to be a Christian. Perhaps she’d misjudged him, but she had one final sally. “Christ can change hearts, Alex, not the army.”
She should have stopped there, but he was misjudging her father, who’d done more to soften hearts toward the freedmen than anyone. “Your General Terry, in conjunction with Governor Bullock, forced my father from his rightful position in the legislature, and not because he didn’t obey the law either. It’s because you Radicals were afraid of losing power.”
He leaned forward, his brows pulled together in a scowl. “Touché, Gillian.” As if realizing who he was speaking to, his tone softened. “I’m no radical, but I am a realist. When the supreme law of the land, the Constitution, says citizens of all races have the right to vote and serve in government, then no faction is going to take away that right without consequences. Your father may well be the exception, but he suffered those consequences just as we all suffer from the sins of others in this unjust world.”
She watched a muscle twitch in his jaw and suddenly realized his anger wasn’t directed at her or the Southern Democrats. The accident had upset him. Also, he was talking to her as an equal instead of telling her women had no understanding of politics as Lord Brimington or Reuben Dabney would have.
His words still chaffed, but she had no argument left. She puffed a bre
ath strong enough to lift the curls on her forehead and averted her gaze from him to stare out the window. They’d left the industrial and business districts, and her memory stirred.
Peachtree Street. Many of the stately oaks had burned, but the tall cedars still stood proudly. Some magnolias had escaped the fires as well, and new dogwood and azaleas grew on well-groomed lawns. She sucked in the smell of the familiar sweet-gum shrubs and gardenias. This was the South of her childhood.
But the houses were new and quite different from what they’d replaced.
The carriage turned into a gravel drive that cut through manicured lawns and passed by formal gardens on either side. Gillian couldn’t help being astonished. She twisted to get a better view and knew she gawked in a very unladylike manner.
Alex chuckled. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Impressive was too feeble a word. The house’s style was American craftsman, though French and Gothic influence was evident. The irregular lines of the front were dominated by a tower rising perhaps sixty feet in the center. On either side of the tower two huge double bay windows soared two stories in height and capped with circular roofs and surmounted with ornamental balustrades. The gable’s front rose to a pinnacle topped by a copper weather vane.
Made of a combination of stone, granite, and gray brick, this was no plantation house with Greek columns. This was a mansion that could outshine any castle Gillian had ever seen.
She and Alex entered through a reception area and then stepped into the magnificent tiled foyer. A dignified butler greeted them. The man, dressed in a splendid black jacket with tails and trimmed in blue satin, escorted them through a wide hallway to the drawing room.
With her back to them, Aunt Mandy stood at a grand piano, her face downcast as she studied some music pieces lying on top of the piano. She’d always been an excellent pianist, the one thing at which she excelled Lynette.
Although she didn’t possess the great beauty of her sister, Aunt Mandy was an attractive woman, carrying a certain air of elegance. That stately pose Gillian remembered so well emphasized Aunt Mandy’s chic, rich brown, gold trimmed day dress. Her hair, the color of ripe corn, was arranged in a fashionable coil at the back of her neck.
The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3) Page 10