Soldier in Her Lap

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Soldier in Her Lap Page 6

by Haley Whitehall


  His warm breath bathed her lips and he kissed her softly. “I want to be with you, Sophia. I’ll do anything I can to make that happen. Including telling you the truth.” His eyes glazed with worry and it marred his masculine beauty.

  “We can be together,” she said, pressing her body forcefully against his chest and gasped. She kissed his open mouth, and his warm, wet tongue plunged inside hers. The sudden intrusion surprised her. Taking his lead, she tentatively brushed her tongue against the inside of his cheek. He rested one hand on her bottom. The heat of his palm felt wonderfully wicked. When he broke the kiss, she blinked at him. What had just happened? “Wow,” she breathed.

  He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “There is more of that to come.”

  “Yes,” she said. She wanted more now. If he was trying to kiss and fondle away her reason, he was perilously close.

  “If you just tell me your secret, then we can leave the farm. Honesty is the foundation of a good marriage.”

  Taking a step back, he stretched his arms to keep their hands together. Slowly unwinding his fingers, he released her. “I suppose it is time.”

  She tipped her head, waiting for him to say more.

  He drew a deep breath and glanced to the side. “I’m wanted,” he exhaled.

  “What do you mean you’re wanted? You’re a criminal?”

  Head bowed, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose.”

  A dark feeling slithered across her spine. She’d sure read him wrong. He seemed like such the upstanding type, a gentleman. What had he done? Murdered some man before the war? Maybe he’d robbed a freight office.

  “I deserted,” he said, cutting off her thoughts.

  Staring at him she wondered if she’d heard him right. Too stunned to blink, she barely pushed out the one word on the tip of her tongue. “Deserted?”

  Lucas looked away sheepishly. “Yes, miss. My plan is to make my way home to Franklin. I want to go back to my horses—if they are still there. I’m done fighting.”

  “You can’t just quit fighting because you want to!”

  Did he view all of life that way? If something got too difficult, would he quit? If they had a drought and all the crops died, what would he do? If he lost his stables, would he be able to pick himself up and dust himself off, or would he drown in the bottle like Papa? Her stomach clenched as an even darker thought cast over her. If they had a fight or if he got tired of their marriage, would he run off?

  “The war will be over in a few months anyway,” Lucas said in a monotone voice. “Me not being at the front won’t make a lick of difference.”

  “It isn’t whether it will make a difference or not that matters,” Sophia said, exasperated. “It is the principle.”

  He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. Far from it. Their romance had to come to an abrupt stop. She drew quick breaths trying to control her rising anger. Used her for food, shelter, doctoring, and kisses, that’s what he did. They were no longer on a first name basis. Maybe he’d get the message she needed space, he needed to back off. She wasn’t marrying a coward. “Don’t you have any principles, Mr. Grady?”

  “Yes, Miss Carpenter, I have principles.” He looked her in the eye. “They’re just not the same as yours.”

  “Not the same as mine.” Her voice rose in pitch with each word. “I think most people would think desertion wrong. It isn’t asking for too much to want you to do your job, to do what you swore you were going to do.”

  “I didn’t volunteer, Miss Carpenter,” he said coolly. “I never wanted to participate in this war to begin with. Still, I’ve fought. I put in my time. I’ve been shot at more times than I can count. You sewed up my leg, remember? Or does that not count for anything?”

  She huffed. “Yes, I know you came to my house wounded. But I’d imagined that was after you had fought bravely. For all I know, you could have been retreating.”

  “I was retreating. We all were, Miss Carpenter.”

  His answers got under her skin. Was he blind to the error of his ways? Why couldn’t she get him to see he needed to go back to the army? “You said yourself the South will have to surrender soon,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you just fight it out a few more months then?”

  He sighed from deep in his chest. “Dead bodies, Miss Carpenter. Dead bodies.”

  Her brows slid together. “Yes?”

  Scuffing his shoe on the wood floor, he didn’t answer for a moment. “I’ve killed men and I’m not proud of it. I had to do it—they were shooting at me but…. Have you seen a man gored by a bayonet? Or a man cut down by a cannonball?”

  “No.”

  “Then consider yourself blessed. I can’t see it any more. I can’t handle it any more. Death all around me, surrounding me at every turn like a fog that never dissipates.”

  Truthfully she hadn’t given death much thought. Still, it couldn’t erase the obvious flaw. “Deserters are cowards,” she said in a voice as hard and cold as steel.

  “In some fashion, yes.”

  Her husband could not be a coward. She needed someone strong to protect her and their children. How much backbone did he have?

  “I was more afraid of the sawbones than anything. I’ve seen piles of limbs rotting in the yard outside makeshift hospitals. I didn’t want to lose my leg.”

  “Your wound wasn’t that bad. I’m sure they would have saved your leg.”

  Lucas shrugged. “When they put you to sleep, you never know what you’re going to find when you wake. Here, when I awoke, I found you.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, not in the mood to receive compliments.

  “You’re teasing me, Sophia, you’re so hard to resist.” Her body responded to his husky voice, her nether region tingling. Damn him! He has me bewitched. She was angry at him and all she wanted to do was kiss him.

  Pressing against him, her lips sealed against his. He ran his hands up and down her back. She loved the way he touched her, felt her, and possessed her.

  “Am I forgiven?” he breathed against her mouth.

  “No,” she said. “But being honest is a start.”

  Chapter Eight

  At last he’d told her the truth…Sophia didn’t know what to do now. Lucas had clearly showed his feelings for her. It took all her strength to push him away and keep distance between them. She couldn’t think when he was touching her like that.

  “You need to give me some time,” she said, his confession weighing on her.

  “I’m not sure how much time we have….” His voice trailed off, and she saw the sorrow in his eyes. He clearly regretted deserting. Or maybe he regretted telling her he’d deserted; which, she didn’t know.

  Papa might decide the course of their relationship for her. Likely he’d force Lucas to leave. Maybe that would be for the best—though deep down she didn’t want him to go.

  It had taken her so long to get a man, and she’d grown attached to Lucas. A woman grew attached to a man after seeing all of him and sewing him up. Even if she never saw him again, she’d never be able to forget that intimate image.

  “Sophia!” Papa called.

  Eyes wide, she glanced at Lucas. Despite his faults, she didn’t want him to get hurt, and if Papa caught him in the house with her…. “You need to leave,” she whispered.

  “For good?”

  “No. Just get outside,” she said. “Climb out one of the windows. I’ll keep Papa occupied.” She hurried outside, leaving Lucas standing in the kitchen.

  “I’m here, Papa,” Sophia said, running up to him. “Is something wrong?”

  “Wrong?” Papa grunted and spat on the ground. “Spent a night in jail. I wouldn’t say everything was right.”

  “Reverend Rawlins let me know. I was waiting up for you.” Sophia kept her voice soft, hoping not to provoke him.

  “It’s terrible. A man’s not even free to drink anymore.”

  “You could probably use a drink now,” she said sweetly wi
th a slight hesitation. Had Lucas gotten out of the house?

  “Yes. I could.” He walked past her up the steps, throwing the door open. “Ah, it is good to be home!”

  “Are you hungry, Papa?” Sophia asked, stepping up to the stove.

  “I’m always hungry.”

  She let out a breath. She should have known. “I’ll see what I can make. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

  “I like this sweet side,” he said, smiling. “Did you miss your old man?”

  “Of course.”

  Papa hadn’t said one word about Lucas. Was that good or bad?

  She stared at the stove. She knew how to cook many dishes, just not many that didn’t involve meat.

  “Sophia!” Papa shouted.

  She rushed to the table where he waited wondering what was wrong now.

  He held a jug to his lips and took a drink. “Is that soldier still here?”

  “Um….” Sophia shifted her weight. “Yes.”

  “Figured as much.” Papa took another drink. “He’s got it easy here—free room and board. He should be paying for his grub.”

  “How? He doesn’t have any money.” Her pulse skidded. At least Papa was open to the idea of Lucas staying longer.

  A knock at the door drew her attention. “I wonder who that could be?”

  Papa stood, his tall frame right behind her. “I’ll come with you.”

  She swallowed and nodded. A nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach told her Lucas was on the porch. The meeting between him and Papa likely wouldn’t end well.

  Reaching the door first, she opened it and then grinned. Lucas stood outside holding a rabbit by the ears.

  “Got lucky,” he said, “I saw him in the garden and knocked him on the head with your shovel.”

  “Rabbit meat!” Sophia clasped her hands together and squealed. She looked behind her. “Isn’t that great, Papa?”

  Papa licked his lips. “Roasted rabbit. Now that will be a meal.”

  Lucas nodded. “I’ll skin him for you, miss.” Without another word, he carried the rabbit toward the barn, likely to get his knife.

  “Now that Mr. Grady is feeling better, he’ll be a big help around here,” she said. “He offered to go hunting for us.”

  Papa grunted. “As long as he keeps his eyes off of you and keeps meat on the table, he can stay.”

  Really? She had been quick to point out Lucas’s usefulness, but she hadn’t expected Papa to give in so quickly. His deprived stomach was probably doing most of the thinking for him. Now if she could just keep peace between him and Lucas, things might work out after all.

  She needed time to work through his indiscretion, and Papa needed time to warm up to him.

  ***

  Over the past week, Lucas had worked hard to keep meat on the table—birds, squirrels, rabbits, anything he could catch or shoot. Briefly he wondered if all his shooting would draw attention. No one came to the farm asking what was wrong, so he continued. Sophia could stand to put on a few pounds. He didn’t want his woman underweight. Not that she had agreed to be his woman after learning of his crime.

  But she hadn’t forced him to leave either.

  Whenever they talked, things were always tense between them. They had been tense before when she was worried about her papa finding out about their relationship…now the tension was his fault.

  He couldn’t turn the clock back and decide not to jump out of the ambulance wagon. Didn’t she understand that? If he had been taken to a Confederate hospital, he never would have met her. He shook his head. Women.

  “Thanks for helping me in the garden,” Sophia said.

  Lucas hoed some weeds. “You’re welcome. As your papa says, I got to earn my keep.”

  Sophia straightened and smiled, her skin pink from the sun. “You’re not a bad man, Lucas Grady, you’re just….”

  “Gutless?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly.

  “But you were thinking it.”

  Sophia pressed her lips together and did not respond. Mr. Carpenter stepped onto the porch, the door closing loudly behind him.

  Lucas bent over and hoed at the next patch of weeds. He didn’t need Mr. Carpenter thinking anything indecent was going on between him and his daughter.

  “Looks like you two have kept busy,” he said, surveying the garden.

  Lucas glanced over at him.

  “Yes, Papa,” Sophia said.

  “Good. Good. I’m going over to see Reverend Rawlins.”

  “Why?”

  Sophia said the question on his mind.

  “I don’t need a reason to go visiting,” Mr. Carpenter said sharply. “He’s the only man around here who understands me.”

  Lucas snorted.

  “Will you be back for supper?” Sophia asked.

  “Of course I will. I can’t miss supper.”

  “All right. Hope you have a nice walk.”

  Lucas watched Mr. Carpenter leave the farm, walking down the road until he disappeared out of view.

  “I think it is high time we took a break,” Lucas said. “Don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a rest. Gotta take advantage of Papa being gone.”

  Yes, my thoughts exactly. Could taking advantage go past a break from chores? He smiled at Sophia. “Would you like me to get you a cup of water? You look hot.”

  She gave a little laugh. “I’m sure I do. Why don’t we go inside and get out of the sun for a while.”

  “Yes, miss.” He headed to the house and held the door open for her like a gentleman. What did he have to do to get back in her good graces?

  They stood together in the kitchen drinking cups of water and nibbling on leftover biscuits. Conversation failed between them, the silence heated by their lust.

  Lucas wished he was nibbling on her. The flesh of her neck, mostly hidden by her long curly hair looked inviting.

  She finished her biscuit and then licked her fingers, the action fanning the fire in his belly.

  “Papa will be gone for some time,” she said, acting as if she did not notice the hunger in his eyes. “I think I will take a short nap. Feel free to go to the barn and take a rest as well.”

  Lucas held back a groan. She was going to bed. He’d give anything to go to bed with her.

  “Yes, miss. We both got up early to get out of the heat. Good idea to rest during the hottest part of the day.”

  Sophia headed up the stairs to her room, and Lucas’s gaze followed the sway of her hips as she ascended each step.

  ***

  Instead of going to the barn, Lucas sat in the rocking chair in the sitting room and fell asleep. He wanted to be close to Sophia, wanted to be near when she woke.

  The creak on the stairs roused him. Sophia yawned and descended the last steps. “Didn’t make it out to the barn, I see.”

  “No, miss.”

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please. That would be nice.” He followed her into the kitchen. She put on some water to make the coffee.

  It wasn’t long before they were again sipping their cups in silence and exchanging heated looks. Finally, her mask of anger had dissipated. Her eyes softened, her lips turning from a hard line into a slight smile. If only she would act on them, but he guessed she was too stubborn.

  She set her cup of coffee on the counter and Lucas wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to him.

  “Oh,” she said, clearly surprised, but she didn’t protest.

  He kissed her neck and she sighed, tilting her head. He brushed her hair aside and continued raining kisses upon her sensitive flesh. She hadn’t forgiven him yet, but her body was giving in. This could be the key.

  He cupped her bottom and raised her up until she could feel him, bulging with need. He kissed her with force, fire searing their lips together.

  “What is going on here?” Mr. Rawlins bellowed.

  Sophia cringed and Lucas immediately set her on the floor. Their att
ention whipped to the door to see the reverend and Papa standing there.

  Both of Papa’s hands molded into fists and he snarled like a rabid dog. Mr. Rawlins glared at Lucas, his muscles rigid and his eyes menacing slits.

  Her heart struggled to pump. They were buried in trouble—hopefully not quite six feet.

  Papa took his musket off the peg on the wall and pointed it at Lucas. “Get out of my house now before I blow a hole right through you!”

  Lucas looked at her, desperation in his eyes. He held on to her hand tightly and slowly inched toward the exit. Their fingers slid away from each other until they were no longer touching.

  Her gut clenched and tears blurred her vision. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Sir,” Lucas said. “I intend to marry your daughter.”

  “The hell you are!” Papa bellowed.

  “I’ve asked her to marry me and she agreed,” Lucas said, his strong voice slightly wavering.

  “It is customary to ask her father first,” Mr. Rawlins said.

  Sophia stepped to Lucas’s side. “I love him, Papa.”

  “You’re too young to know what you want,” Papa snapped, glaring at Lucas. “I’m losing my patience, Mr. Grady,” Papa said in an even tone that would have chilled the gates of Hell.

  “Y-yes, sir.” He headed outside without looking back. When the door shut with a bang behind him, she jumped.

  Papa stuck his the musket out the open window.

  Her heart plunged so fast she lost her balance and stumbled forward, catching herself by grabbing the counter. Was Papa going to shoot him in the back? Lucas didn’t deserve to be murdered!

  She had to stop him.

  “If I see you around here again, I’ll lay you in your grave.”

  She couldn’t hear if Lucas replied. Papa shut the door, spun around and glared at her, still holding the musket. Papa and Mr. Rawlins riled at the same time. They were a force to be reckoned with like a twister tearing through a cornfield.

 

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