Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  He kept his face close to hers, his lips brushing against her skin as he murmured, “Sometimes I thought, if I had written, my very words would have burned through the paper.”

  “Why didn’t you write me?” She tilted his chin up so she could look into his eyes. “I know you were busy…but…Thomas, I was worried about you. I was terrified you were dead.”

  He reached out and trailed his fingers down her cheek. “Everything we did was nonstop, drilling and garrison duty and forced marches. I wish…I wish there was some way I could make it up to you.”

  “There are ways. But I’m going to make you wait.” Adelaide looked away. “Thomas…the thought of losing you... I can’t even begin to explain how much it scared me. I received no word from you—I didn’t even know if you made it to Massachusetts. You said yourself you knew what happened here and yet you never wrote to see how I faired? To know if I was even still alive?”

  “I had no idea you had stayed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What choice did I have? My father was dying. Luke was gone and Robert after him; even if I could have left, where would I have gone? We thought…we thought it would end. With each new commander we thought: surely this must be the last. This one will keep us safe, this one will stop all the fighting and all the dying. But they never did, Thomas, they simply don’t care. They burned the Armory, they shelled the town, and yet they still squabble over who will control the rubble and ruins that are left. But then, if you had taken the time to write, you would have known all this. Will I forgive you for leaving? Absolutely, but I think part of me will always hate you for it.”

  Thomas was silent for a moment, staring at his well worn boots. He appeared less surprised at her words than she did, as if perhaps he had expected her anger all along. “I deserved that.”

  “You certainly did.” She exhaled sharply, then nuzzled her head against his shoulder. “And now we move on from it. What’s done is done. We can’t change it.”

  He touched her fingertips with his, slowly sliding them forward until he had intertwined his fingers with hers. He squeezed her hand gently. “Do I still hold your favor?”

  Adelaide smiled. “Of course…even if you are a Yankee.”

  “And I still love you, Secesh.”

  “Such a scandal, in that case.” She giggled. “If anyone catches us in a lustful embrace, what will a soldier like you do?”

  “I’m going to marry you.”

  They huddled together in comfortable silence. As he held her, his free hand slid to her cheek and turned her face to him. “There were nights when we were in camp, cold nights, when I thought about you—thought about us—in my bed.”

  She wetted her lips, reaching up and brushing a strand of his dark hair back from his forehead. “Did it keep you warm?”

  “Not as warm as your body did; those skinny little legs of yours wrapped around me.”

  She leaned closer to him and pressed her lips to his cheek, trailing her mouth towards his. “Do you need me to keep you warm tonight?”

  “Every night.” He traced the curve of her jaw with his fingertips and tilted it downward, kissing her. It was tantalizing: he’d brush his tongue against hers and draw in a sharp breath, but then pull his mouth away. He knew exactly what he was doing. She felt like she could feel the blood coursing through her veins. Her body felt alive, passion and desire and sheer lust like the sizzle of a lit match as it got wet surged through every inch of her body.

  He murmured, “sweet love” against her lips and then dipped his head down, kissing the area of her neck just below her earlobe. His hands were at work just as much as his mouth, gently squeezing and sliding down her waist and hips. “I want to show you how much I missed you.”

  “Where can we go?”

  He kissed her throat again and then grabbed her hand, pulled her off the stoop. At a quick pace, he led her around the building to the narrow, grassy stretch against the rocky face of Church Hill. It was too dark to see, but she didn’t need light. She just needed him.

  With one hand, he pulled her skirts upward and pinned them between their bodies. He slid his hand between them and fumbled with his trousers. “This will last all of five minutes, I’ll warn you. It’s been a long war.”

  She pressed her lips to his to muffle her laughter. “There’s always tomorrow, too.”

  “And every day after that, Christ, I need you.” He reached underneath her and cupped her thighs, hoisting her up and steadying her against the hill. It was awkward and unsteady, but when he adjusted himself against and her thrusted inside her body, she was sailing the stars.

  In that moment, time stopped. Nothing else mattered: not the war, not the destruction around them, not the warnings of the Shadow Man.

  The only thing she needed—the only thing she wanted—was him.

  * * *

  “ADDY, WHAT ARE you doing?”

  Adelaide looked up from the cook stove and scowled at her sister. “What does it look like I’m doing, Sarah? I’m trying to make corn muffins.”

  “We’re out of lye soap.”

  “So?”

  “I need you to go and get some more so I can finish the laundry.”

  “Sarah.” Adelaide scooped the last of the batter from the bowl. “I’m in the middle of this. Why can’t you walk down and get it yourself?”

  “Because I’m asking you. You know quite well if we leave the laundry out there, it’ll be gone when we get back.”

  “No one’s watching it now.”

  “Lizzie’s out there with it.”

  “Make Levi go.”

  “He’s upstairs fixing the frame of Lizzie’s bed. She was jumping on it again.”

  “Sarah, honestly.” Adelaide untied her apron and slammed her wooden spoon on the table. “You are useless. And an irritant. And probably a slag, knowing you as I do.”

  Her sister smirked. “If you’d rather finish the laundry, I’ll go to Mr. Egan’s and get the lye.”

  Adelaide ignored her. “Keep an eye on the corn muffins so they don’t burn. And tell Lizzie she’d best keep from jumping on the bed or she’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

  Crumpling a few greenbacks into her pocket, Adelaide tied her straw hat ribbons at her throat as she walked to the store. Maybe she’d see Thomas—that would make the trip worth it. He was busy during the day with his “military duties” and, although she wasn’t sure what all that entailed, sometimes she’d curl up against the upper window and watch him order soldiers around Arsenal Square. They’d march back and forth, sometimes wheeling and dropping to the ground, or lunging forward with fixed bayonets. He was patient, but firm.

  She’d always enjoyed those qualities of his disposition, especially when it came to the way he made love to her.

  She was so preoccupied in her thoughts that she didn’t see the soldier step in front of her until she’d nearly walked into him. He made no effort to move to the side; she veered around him. “Pardon me, sir.”

  “No, no, pardon me, pretty lady.” He lifted his cap, revealing greasy blond hair. Odor seemed to waft off his body like steam: sweat and foul, unbathed skin. “Why don’t you stay and talk to me a while? I could use the company.”

  Adelaide kept walking, keeping her eyes locked on the door to Mr. Egan’s store. “I’m in a hurry, sir, and have no time for idle chatter.”

  “Now, now, pretty lady.” He darted around her in an obvious attempt to block her path. “Don’t be like that.”

  “I told you. No.”

  He steadily followed her, matching his pace to hers, but fell silent. She could feel his eyes on her body; could hear him tramping behind her. There were always soldiers like him around. There always had been, regardless if Federal or Confederate happened to be in town. They seemed to get bored with the whores and would start harassing any woman on the street. It was disgusting. Yet, she’d found Sarah in the embrace of a Pennsylvania soldier once. And Henry Baden. Maybe they weren’t all bad.

  This one, however, was
more of a letch.

  She ignored his persistent questioning and slammed the door shut in his face as she entered Mr. Egan’s store. He stayed outside—good, maybe he got the message. “Hello, Fannie.”

  Mr. Egan’s young daughter was stacking canned goods on a shelf behind the main shop counter. She turned and grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “Hello, Miss Adelaide. It is certainly hot today. Those soldiers smell worse than ever.”

  “You can smell them before you see them.” Adelaide glanced behind her. The soldier was leaning against the door, but was still outside. “It feels like it needs to rain and take the humidity out of the air.”

  “You are quite right.”

  “Have you recently lost teeth, Miss Fannie?”

  She had asked the correct question. Fannie’s eyes lit up and she nodded so hard, her blonde ringlets bounced up and down. “Why, yes, I have! I’m nearly nine, now, Pa says I’m getting all my lady teeth.”

  Adelaide laughed. “Something like that.”

  “Can I help you find something, Miss Adelaide?” Fannie pushed back her shoulders and stood straighter. “Pa’s in the back, but I know where everything is.”

  “I need some lye soap, for laundry.” Adelaide knew Mr. Egan kept it behind the counter. In fact, she could see it from where she stood, but would allow Fannie to “find” it for her.

  “Lye soap.” Fannie tapped her chin. “Yes, yes we do carry lye soap. Just let me find it for you and you can be on your way.”

  The girl walked to the far side of the shop, as far away from the soap as she could have gone, and began searching the shelves for the lye. Adelaide waited patiently; the girl was bound to come back this way. Besides, it was more time to let the lecherous soldier lose interest in her and wander off.

  “I saw you talking to one of those soldiers yesterday.” Fannie said, rummaging around a box boldly labeled coffee. “Do you like those Yankees?”

  “Well, that Yankee used to work in the Armory.” Adelaide answered carefully. Like didn’t even begin to describe how she felt about Thomas. “So, yes, I like him. We were courting before the war.”

  “Some of those Yankees are nice,” Fannie persisted, “but some of them are terribly despicable. One of them called Pa such terrible names yesterday because he spat on the floor and Pa told him not to expect to rate in our store if he spat on the floor. Can you imagine? Look, Pa even put up a sign.”

  “It’s hard to imagine someone would do that to your Pa.”

  “I know. But some of them are nice, not all spit on our floor, it was just that one—oh, here it is.” Fannie finally caught sight of the lye and handed the package to Adelaide. “I have to be honest with you, Miss Adelaide, I don’t know the price of this here lye.”

  “That’s okay, Miss Fannie.” Adelaide smiled. “Go ask your pa and I’ll wait right here to pay you.”

  When Fannie finally came back and the lye was paid for, Adelaide thanked the girl and headed back out to the street. The errand took much longer than she’d anticipated. Knowing Sarah, she hadn’t kept an eye on the corn muffins and they’d be gnawing on charred bricks for supper.

  “I was wondering when you’d come back.”

  Adelaide inwardly groaned. The blond soldier stood to the side of Egan’s shop, just out of view from the window, and spit a large brown stain of tobacco on the ground. A bit of juice dribbled down his chin. “I bet those legs of yours are long. Firm.”

  “I’m too busy to engage in idle chat, sir, but your concern is appreciated.”

  “I ain’t interested in chattin’.”

  He blocked her path again. When she moved to walk around him, he’d darted to the side and reached his arm out to corral her back. His eyes were fixated on her, his lips curled into a smirk, and he moved with agility—he grabbed her arm and yanked her to him.

  She bucked against him, jamming her hands into his chest to try and shove him away. “Leave me alone.”

  “Oh, I will,” he leered at her, more juice dribbling down his chin and dripping down onto his uniform, “when I’m done with you.”

  “I’d die before I let you do that.”

  “Fight me more, Sescesh, and I’ll see that happens.”

  She stared at him, her breath frozen in her throat.

  Hands clapped over his shoulders and wrenched him off of her. Thomas slammed him against the stone wall of the dry goods store, pinning him in place by his throat. He was seething. “Is there a problem, Private?”

  “No problem, Captain.” The blond man held still, his head locked against the wall and his eyes staring straight ahead. “Just speaking to this pretty lady, here.”

  Thomas dropped his hands from the soldier’s throat. He possessively clamped his hand on her arm and pulled her to him. “This lady, Private, is with me. She’s under my protection. You’ll leave her alone—you won’t speak to her, touch her, or even look at her.”

  “Aw, sir, I wasn’t doing—”

  “That’s an order, Private, not a suggestion.”

  The soldier stood at attention, his back a straight as a board, and then saluted Thomas. “Yes, Captain. I apologize, sir.” He didn’t glance in Adelaide’s direction, didn’t act as if he even saw her anymore. Like a kicked dog, he scrambled down the side of the street and disappeared around the corner of the Master Armorer’s house.

  Thomas cupped her face in his hand and studied her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, thanks to you.”

  “I’ll walk you home.”

  She smiled at him, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm and leaning close to him. There was some about his navy blue uniform and his ordering other men about; something that made her desire him more. He’d been in her bed all night last night, but still, she already wanted him again.

  “He won’t trouble you again, I promise.” Thomas touched his head to hers. “I’ll see to that. Even so, perhaps I should consider moving my belongings to your boarding house.”

  Adelaide cupped her hand over his and traced her fingertip over the rise and fall of his knuckles. “I don’t believe we have open beds available right now, but I’ll check.”

  “What about your bed?”

  “Ah, yes, now that bed actually does have an available space.” She pretended to look him over; his lips curled up in a grin. “I think you might be the right…fit.”

  “Perhaps. From my experience, the…fit seems like it was made for me. I enjoy it,” he pulled her closer, “every time.”

  “As do I. In fact, I wouldn’t mind testing the fit again now.”

  He chuckled and leaned against her, pressing his lips to her temple. “You will wear me out, sweet girl.”

  “I’ll accept the challenge.”

  “You’ve convinced me. And we’ll try until we get it right.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Adelaide, her sisters, and her brother walked to the Provost Marshall’s office on High Street for registration. Even though they had, in the past, sworn their allegiance to the Union, Major Pratt was under orders to have every individual in town—both resident and visitor—take the oath. As the oldest in the family, Adelaide went in first.

  The office had once been a tailor’s shop but the Union Army had quickly renovated it to better suit their needs. There were two writing desks crammed into the room, making it seem smaller than it probably was. Someone had taken the time to place a bench awkwardly beneath a window, leaving very little room in the front of the building for townspeople to wait. Adelaide assumed that was the bench’s purpose.

  Major Pratt was not in the office that morning. Instead, Mr. Moulton, a gentleman who introduced himself as Provost Clerk, told her he would be issuing passes all day. Very soft brown curls peaked out from underneath his cap and his serious brown eyes were framed by dark lashes. He looked like a sweet man, quiet, and rather unassuming.

  His position with the army though, made her nervous.

  “Now, Miss Randolph,” he shuffled through a stack of papers,
“this won’t take but a few moments and then we’ll have you on your way. Now, you’re a resident of Harpers Ferry?”

  “Yes, sir.” Adelaide nodded. “I was born and raised here.”

  “Where about do you live?”

  “A ways down Shenandoah Street. We own a small shop and take in boarders.”

  “Have you always lived there?” He made notations on a sheet of paper as he talked, and Adelaide noticed he had very uniform handwriting.

  “No sir, we used to live in the Ferry Lot, directly across from the Armory. But Tyndale burned it back in ’62.”

  He nodded and continued writing. “Do you plan on staying here?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve made it this long. I don’t see any reason to leave now.”

  Mr. Moulton nodded again. “Will you submit to taking the oath of allegiance?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He pulled out another sheet of paper and carefully wrote her name on the first line. “Have you the ability to read, Miss Randolph?”

  “Yes.”

  He handed her the sheet of paper, at the top of which was written Head Quarters, Middle Military District, Harpers Ferry West Virginia. Office Provost Marshal. “Go ahead when you’re ready.”

  Adelaide cleared her throat. “I, Adelaide Randolph, do solemnly swear that I will bear truth faith, allegiance, and loyalty to the Government of the United States, and support, protect, defend and sustain the Constitution, Government and laws thereof; that I will maintain the National Sovereignty in its integrity, any ordinance, resolution, or law of any State, Convention or Legislature to the contrary notwithstanding. That I will discourage, discountenance and forever oppose secession, rebellion and the disruption or severance of the Union; that I disclaim and abjure all faith, fellowship or sympathy with the so-called Confederate States and Confederate Armies, and pledge my property and my life to the sacred performance of this my solemn Oath of Allegiance to the Government of the United States. And further, I will not attempt to trade or have any correspondence directly or indirectly, or have any business transactions whatever with any person living in the so-called Confederate States, unless under the proper Military supervision and approval. And that I do this with a full determination, pledge and purpose, without any mental reservation or evasion whatever, and that I will well and faithfully perform all the duties required of me as a true and loyal citizen of these United States,” she thought of Robert, still somewhere with the Army of the Confederacy, “so help me God.”