The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3)

by Elaine Manders

***

  Gillian kept her eyes on Alex’s straight back as she and Purity followed him down the tree lined street to Marietta and Forsyth Streets. Would she ever understand such a man? At times he was aloof and secretive, but this morning he was pleasant, even fun, to be with. She could be persuaded he cared. He must, to some extent, or he wouldn’t go out of his way to find Will.

  But maybe he put on and took off his hard side along with the uniform.

  “Here it is.” He indicated the new government buildings with the sweep of his hand. They found the stables and released their horses to a groom.

  She almost stumbled along the gravel drive. Alex tucked her arm through the crook of his elbow on his right, and Purity’s on his left. His touch affected her, though she tried to ignore it, knowing she had to keep her wits about her if she were to learn why her father wasn’t allowed to take the loyalty oath. That’s what Aunt Mandy wanted her to find out here from these government officials.

  They encountered few men along their route, however, and Alex made no effort to introduce her to anyone.

  Safely inside, she withdrew from Alex’s hold, and Purity did the same.

  The ladies promenaded along the corridor, Alex hanging behind. Gillian couldn’t help gawking at the furnishings, and by the look on her face, Purity was astonished as well.

  Aunt Mandy had told Gillian this building was renovated from the old Opera House and traces were left from the past. Everything proclaimed its importance, from the fresco work on the ceilings to the paintings and statuary along the walls.

  They strolled at a leisurely pace, forcing Alex to slow his strides. When Gillian stopped in front of a portrait of Andrew Jackson, Alex leaned in. “Old Hickory.”

  She jumped, not realizing he was so close. When she turned her head, they were practically nose to nose. “I know. He’s a Southerner both North and South can admire.”

  That charming dimple she admired popped into view. “The North admires many Southern leaders, including Robert E. Lee.”

  He was right, and Southerners admired Lincoln more than they let on. That was something she could never understand about men. They could be killing each other one day and toasting themselves over drinks the next.

  “There’s a portrait of Washington in the Senate,” he said. “I’ll show you before we leave, if you like.”

  “Yes, I’d like to see the Senate. That’s the chamber my father will be serving in.” Surprisingly, he didn’t argue with her. They came up on a staircase on the left.

  “What’s upstairs?” Purity pulled her away from Alex’s warm gaze.

  “Apartments,” Alex replied. “If you’ll believe it, they’re nothing more than cheap lodgings. We don’t want to go up there. In my opinion, the apartments are out of place in such opulent settings.”

  The stairs disappeared in a dark hole, and Gillian had to agree nothing up there interested her. “Why in the world would they let out apartments here in the Capitol?”

  “Who knows? Maybe they thought it would bring in a few extra dollars.” Alex gestured with his hand to a reception area on the other side. “General Terry has offices in here. He isn’t here today, but you can see the place.”

  “Is this where you work?” She wanted to know where and how he spent his days, as she wanted to know everything about him.

  “It is.” He ushered them into a large office, and Gillian scanned the leather and mahogany furniture, book-lined shelves, and the heavy, polished desks. Except for the size, it wasn’t much different from her Papa’s study.

  “Where are the legislators?”

  “They’re not in residence, though I saw a few of them milling around in the lobby. The legislature isn’t in session at the moment.”

  He opened a side door and stepped aside for Gillian and Purity to enter a smaller office. Even without a name plaque hanging on the door, she surmised this was Alex’s office.

  “Do you ladies mind waiting a moment, while I look for something?”

  “I saw a settee in the general’s office. Perhaps we could wait out there,” Purity suggested. Gillian scowled, but she supposed it was proper to give Alex some privacy. He worked on secret stuff of some sort and wouldn’t like her snooping, though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

  Alex glanced up from the papers he was shuffling through. “Good idea. I won’t be long.”

  Purity pulled Gillian out of Alex’s office, and her mute appeal signaled she had something important to say.

  She settled beside Purity who wrung her hands, clearly agitated. “What’s wrong?”

  The girl refused to meet Gillian’s gaze, but kept her focus on the open door to Alex’s office. “Nothing, really. It’s just something that’s weighing on me.” She shot a sidelong glance to Gillian. “I think I know why Mr. Carey—” Color rose in her cheeks.

  Goodness, what had gotten Purity so flustered. She sent the girl a smile of encouragement.

  Purity nodded and drew in a breath that lifted her shoulders. “I think I know why Mr. Carey didn’t want you to return home from England, and it’s more than the fact there are few good men to court you here.”

  “What then?”

  “I don’t know the specifics, but it had something to do with a will.”

  “A will? What will? Mama’s? She left me her jewelry.”

  “No, your grandfather’s will. Not your Grandfather Carey, but your mother’s father.”

  Purity might as well have been speaking a foreign language. Gillian had never known much about Grandfather Haley. He’d left Georgia before she was born, buying a tobacco plantation in Virginia, and transferring ownership of Lynwood to Papa. Lynette and Amanda were his only offspring.

  “I’ve only heard bits and snatches of conversation. No one confides in me.”

  “Why are you mentioning this now?”

  “As we were walking down the hall I saw two men standing beside a door marked Legal Documents. They were watching you.”

  “Were they soldiers? What did they look like?” Most of the men she’d seen were army officers like Alex.

  “They were in civilian attire, and I only got a glimpse since I didn’t want them to know I saw them.”

  Why not? “They might have been watching you. You are a beautiful woman, after all.”

  Purity mouth fell open, and her black curls bounced with the shake of her head.

  Footsteps sounded and Gillian gave Purity another pat, rolling her eyes toward the doorway. “We’ll discuss this later.” They stood in unison as Alex appeared. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Gillian tried to sound casual.

  “Yes, I think so. It’s a list of contractors employed by the railroad.” He gestured with the paper he held. “I hope to identify the one who supplied the defective bolt that caused the train accident.”

  “It was caused by a defective bolt?”

  “According to two of the engineers who looked at it.”

  “Such a little thing to cause all that damage.” She sidled beside him as he stared at the printed list, obviously deep in thought.

  “They’re fairly large bolts.”

  Gillian dropped her gaze to the paper. It might contain information that would be of use to James Parker, the reporter trying to expose all the corruption that was supposedly going on.

  The correspondence Alex held was more than a list. It was a letter from the governor to General Terry.

  The Airline Railroad was in fine financial shape, contrary to rumor. That was all she read before awareness forced her to look up into Alex’s cool hazel eyes.

  Like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she grinned sheepishly. “Are we going to finish our tour, captain?” Alex folded the single sheet and stuffed it in his breast pocket.

  As Alex had warned, most of the Capitol was empty of all but cleaning personnel and a few military men. He rubbed his neck and fidgeted with his collar, seemingly anxious to leave.

  They’d covered the length of the building, and Gillian
saw nothing more of interest.

  As they made their way back down the hallway to the exit, three men passed them. She stared at the tall man with a shiny bald head. Was that one of Papa’s former associates? She tugged on Alex’s arm. “One of those men looks familiar.”

  They retraced their steps until they caught up with the men. “Excuse us, gentlemen,” Alex said. They turned in unison.

  Gillian smiled. “Mr. Turner, it’s Gillian Carey.”

  A puzzled looked passed the bald man’s features before recognition lit his eyes. “As I live and breathe, it is little Gillian. I’ll be along in a moment, gentlemen.” He dismissed his companions.

  “Mr. Turner, this is Miss Drayton, Aunt Mandy’s houseguest. You remember Aunt Mandy.”

  He nodded to Purity. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Drayton. Indeed, I’m well acquainted with Mrs. Brown.”

  “And this is Alex Blaine, a friend of the family.” She didn’t know why it was important not to introduce him as an army officer, but it was.

  The men shook hands, and Gillian was certain Mr. Turner had no notion Alex was a union officer. Not wanting to explain and knowing the man had to catch up with his friends, she skipped any small talk and asked the question no one else could answer. “Do you know why Papa is required to take the loyalty oath?” He was Papa’s colleague, and one of the few allowed to take his seat in the Georgia delegation, so he’d know if anyone did.

  “I was astonished to hear that, Miss Gillian. It was an outrage how the governor took over. He couldn’t have done it without the help of our enemies in the U. S. Congress.”

  “Exactly how did Governor Bullock unseat Papa and those other Democrats? I know he got Congress to send the army back in, but how could he require another loyalty oath?”

  “It was the same oath, my dear,” Mr. Turner said. “The difference lay in the interpretation of who was qualified to take the oath. Under the provisions of the Fourteenth Amendment, a former rebel had to take the oath to be granted a pardon. Before that, almost anyone could be pardoned. Why, even Alexander Stephens was pardoned.” Since Stephens had been the Vice President of the Confederacy, that was astonishing.

  President Johnson had tried to carry on Lincoln’s leniency policies. Attitudes changed with the Grant Administration.

  “But that rule didn’t apply to Papa. He never fought for the Confederacy, nor did he hold any office in the Confederate government. He felt with his sons in the army, he couldn’t leave Lynwood and Mama.”

  “I know, but Bullock and Terry got the rules changed so every member of the legislature had to take the oath. General Terry set up a committee of his officers to decide who was qualified to take the oath. It was their committee that disqualified your father.”

  The general’s officers? She sent a sharp glance in Alex’s direction. Was he on that committee? No, he’d just arrived in Atlanta. “How did the committee decide eligibility? Papa refuses to discuss the matter at all.”

  “I can’t say I blame him,” Mr. Turner said. “It’s just another way for the Yanks to try to cram the darkies down our throats.” He stabbed Alex with a sharp gaze, making Gillian wonder if he did know who Alex was, after all.

  She slanted a glance to Purity to see her reaction to the slur on darkies, but the girl’s stoic stare gave nothing away. “Thank you, Mr. Turner. I won’t keep you any longer.”

  “Give my regards to your father, my dear, and your charming aunt.”

  When Mr. Turner had left their hearing, Alex said, “I could have told you the terms of qualification for fitness to serve in the legislature, Gillian. Your father was disqualified because he sold food to the Confederate Army.”

  So he had been on the committee. His casual tone set her on fire. “Papa grew nothing but food during the war. He said he wouldn’t give an acre to cotton while people were starving. The soldiers were hungry. What was he supposed to do, let them starve?”

  Alex seemed taken aback by her anger. “No, I don’t blame your father for helping the army his sons fought for, but you must see how that might be construed as aiding the Confederacy.”

  “I see no such thing,” she snapped. “I think I’ve seen enough of the Capitol. Shall we leave?”

  Chapter 14

  Gillian’s look of disgust as she grabbed Purity’s arm and raced toward the exit twisted Alex’s gut. Now he’d done it. What good-will he’d gained with the feisty redhead had evaporated as fast as the puddles of a summer shower. She probably held him personally responsible for the loss of her father’s political career. He couldn’t assure her he had nothing to do with it, either. He hadn’t been on the committee disqualifying Gilbert Carey, but he couldn’t discuss the matter, not even that Mr. Turner was wrong about its members. It was a part of his secret mission.

  He’d planned on taking the ladies for luncheon at the Grand Hotel, but one look at the skies dashed that idea. Gusting winds and dark clouds in the western sky threatened rain within the half hour—barely time to make it back to Amanda Brown’s house.

  He caught Purity’s worried look and spied the buggy kept ready for the officers’ use. “We’ll leave our horses here and take the buggy. It’ll offer a little protection.”

  After getting the ladies seated on the buggy, he cast another backward glance to the boiling clouds that held an ominous tinge of green.

  Gillian shivered and gave up trying to hold her hat in place. “Why is it so cold all of a sudden?” The wind promptly tore into her carefully arranged curls, blowing them across her face.

  “The clouds contain hail. We should probably go back inside and wait for the storm to pass.”

  “No,” Gillian said. “Let’s just make these horses step lively.”

  The heavy traffic made it difficult to pick up speed. Everyone was trying to make it home before the weather moved in. Fortunately, the horses sensed the urgency and didn’t require much effort to make their way around obstacles.

  A clash of thunder forced Gillian into his side. He automatically put a protective arm around her shoulders. She held onto Purity, who gave up trying to hold onto her hat, and the pretty little confection gusted into the street. Alex’s hat soon followed. It would be foolhardy to stop and try to retrieve them. Both hats would be stomped by a hundred hooves before he could find them.

  They turned onto Peachtree Street when the first stinging splashes of rain hit. Gillian buried her face onto his shoulder. He shouted to both women. “If it starts to hail, bend down and put your hands over your heads.” It was doubtful they heard above the howling wind.

  They pulled into the drive as the first pellets assaulted them. Alex got both ladies to the ground and stretched his coat over them. They left the horses to the waiting groom and dashed for cover of the porch.

  Abe had the door open before they reached it, and they fell into the calm of the house. The ladies clung to him, and he gave them a moment to orient themselves to the quiet after the turbulence outside.

  After they gave him space, he shucked out of the soaked coat and gave it to the butler.

  “You’d better go change from those wet clothes, Purity,” Gillian said.

  The young lady nodded, shaking raindrops from her glossy curls. “Thank you for getting us home safely, Captain Blaine.” She turned toward the stairs before he had a chance to acknowledge her thanks.

  His gaze slid to Gillian. Her golden red hair fell about her shoulders and fright still darkened her lovely blue eyes. With her damp dress clinging to her curves, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His gut tightened.

  “You’d better change out of those wet clothes too.”

  A quick grin flashed, so fast he wouldn’t have seen it had he not been looking at her mouth. “Wait in the parlor, Alex. I’ll be back down as soon as I change.”

  He watched her run up the stairs and disappear at the landing.

  “Can I get you something to drink, captain?” Abe asked.

  “Coffee would be good. I take mine black.”

>   “A good choice on a day like this.” Lightning exploded and thunder shook the house, making the butler’s eyes bulge. Hail beat the window panes.

  “I shore hope it don’t get worse. It’s too early in the day for this kind of storm. Was the hail bad?”

  Lightning lit the room again, followed by another crash. “Rather bad. It must be right over us at the moment, so it shouldn’t take long to move on.”

  “Shore hope you’re right about that. Geneva’s going to be in a state if her garden patch gets beat down.” Abe turned on his heel. “I’ll be right back with that coffee, sir.”

  Alex strode to the window and watched the storm’s fury bending the trees double as if they were no more than twigs. Hail the size of hen eggs bounced off the floor of the porch. He’d bet Geneva, Amanda’s cook, would have good reason to be in a state.

  His thinking turned to Gillian, wondering why she wanted him to wait. If Frank Turner hadn’t reminded her Union officials had barred her father from his position in the legislature, she’d never have known General Terry was involved. Now Terry was the enemy. And Alex, because he worked for Terry.

  Gillian wasn’t the type to carry a grudge long, but at the moment she was conflicted by her own feelings. He sensed she was attracted to him as a woman is attracted to a man. All he had to do was keep reminding her he was a friend, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

  Since he couldn’t leave until the rain ceased anyway, and she’d promised to join him in the parlor, he should take the opportunity to speak to her privately about her missing brother, and the possible role he’d played his death.

  He hadn’t had a private moment with her since she’d arrived in Atlanta, but bringing up the distasteful subject wasn’t something he looked forward to. Even in the kindest words he could muster, the news wouldn’t give her any hope. Quite the opposite. He’d prayed for the courage to tell her he might have been responsible for her brother’s death, and wondered if he could bring himself to do now.

  The desire to please her squeezed his heart. To see that spark of admiration in those incredible eyes, as deep blue as an Indian summer sky. He tried to convince himself he was merely infatuated with her, but the truth kept taunting him that his feelings already went much farther than that.