by Diana Ballew
“Oh, no.” She had wanted to be the one to tell Rayce about Patrick and the other Yankee soldiers. Now she regretted her earlier decision of waiting until morning, having forgotten what an early riser he tended to be.
“Yes, it's true, Major. Of course, I begged and pleaded with Eden to insist they go elsewhere for care, but she is a handful, as you can imagine. Major...? Where are you going?”
Eden heard him ascend the steps, two at time. He bolted into the bedroom and slammed the door closed so hard the force shook the window casings.
She flinched and slithered to the top of the headboard, clutching the coverlet to her chest. “I...I can explain.”
“Well, woman, you had best start!” He moved quickly, rummaging for his clothes. “You had time to tell me about this earlier, and you chose not to? Do you have any idea how serious these situations can be?”
“Well, yes, I guess so, but they needed—”
He glared at her over his shoulder. “For God’s sake, Eden—we’re at war!”
He marched across the room and planted his hands on her shoulders, his fingertips digging into her skin “You guess so? Now, listen to me. I realize you have no clue what I do when I’m away, and it's better you don't, but I’m telling you there are Yanks who want me dead. There are soldiers who have specific orders to kill me.”
His eyes grew dark, wild, and angry as they bored into hers; the kind of eyes she had always imagined the devil himself would possess.
She quickly turned from his frightening glare. “Stop it, you’re hurting me. What do you mean—why you?”
He released his grip and rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. After a long pause, he sighed heavily. “The less you know the better, trust me.” He walked to his bureau. “You don’t know which Yanks are looking for me, and which ones aren’t, now, do ya?” he called out over his shoulder.
“Well, no, I suppose I don’t, but this one—”
“And, just so you know, I don't give a damn if one of them needs medical attention. I gave you and Daniel instructions how to deal with these situations and where to go, if they won't leave—”
“I know what you said, and I have rid the grounds of stragglers on my own, Rayce. I would have gone to Will Benton’s— just like you told us, but I just couldn’t. I—”
He tugged his boots on, and Eden’s throat went dry when she saw him pull out his gun.
“Rayce, I need to talk to you.”
“Later, Eden. I have matters to tend to.”
She tossed the covers off and raced to him.
He stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing her from head to toe. “Dammit! Don’t go pulling the naked card on me now, woman. I have to go.”
She stood fully nude before him, and he followed her every move. Feeling like injured prey about to be devoured by the wolf, she covered herself with the quilt. “Please, don’t go. Not until we talk.”
The faint sound of a crying baby came from another room. Rayce frowned and tilted his head.
Eden smiled and nodded. “It’s exactly what you think it is. Lucy had her baby yesterday.”
The small lines around his eyes softened. “Is she all right? Did you deliver...it?”
Eden stifled a giggle. “It is a beautiful, healthy, little girl. And, yes, I delivered the baby. It wasn’t easy, mind you, but Lucy’s doing just fine now.”
“Well, that’s good.” He snapped his gaze from hers. Squinting one eye, he looked down the barrel of his gun.
“Rayce, when the Yankees got here Lucy had just had her baby. And please don’t be angry with Daniel. He hid as much food as he could before they set up camp.”
“That's all well and good,” he said, sifting through a box gathering bullets, “but these men are leaving right now.”
He headed for the door, and Eden put her arm out to stop him.
“Let go, Eden,” he warned her.
“For heaven’s sake, Rayce. If you’re going, then I’m going, too.” She rushed past him out the door.
She dressed quickly, and by the time she arrived outside, he was on his horse ready to leave, not even bothering to walk there. “Rayce, wait. I have to tell you something.”
“Eden, stay here,” he barked. “We’ll talk later.” He galloped off toward the outbuildings.
Eden ran as fast as she could. She could hear Daniel and Ann calling after her, but she didn’t care. She had to get there, and fast.
By the time she neared, choking with breathlessness, Rayce was standing outside talking to two of the Yanks who had just woken up and were relieving themselves on the burning embers of their campfire. She hid behind a tall pile of split logs next to the outbuilding.
“Any of you boys in charge here?” Rayce demanded, fingering the gun at his side.
“Who are you?” asked one of the Yankee privates.
“None of your business, that’s who.”
“Sarge! A man here wants to see you.”
The sergeant came out of the door and narrowed his gaze. “And just who might you be?”
“Never mind that. I’m sending you boys packing.” Rayce cocked the gun.
“Whoa there, mister!” The sergeant threw his hands up the moment he heard the click of the gun. “We ain’t here for any trouble. We’ll be leaving today, anyhows.” He pointed a shaky finger at the outbuilding. “But we got a man in there who’s mighty ill, and we're gonna need to leave him here unless you can point us to a nearby doctor or that little nurse who—”
Eden stepped away from the woodpile.
“Why, here she is now.”
She walked up to the heated conversation and stared into Rayce’s face. If looks could kill, she would already be in a pine box six feet underground, the way he eyeballed her.
Sensing the tension, the sergeant piped up, “As I was saying, your little nurse there has already offered to help him. Ain’t that right, Miss?”
The sergeant looked Eden straight in the eyes, a malicious smirk curving the corners of his thin lips. “Turns out they ain't strangers. Sure is a teeny little world when you get sick in the middle of nowhere and land in the very arms of your fee-on-say. Don't ya' think?”
She reached out. “Rayce, please listen.”
Rayce stepped back. “Now, yes, that would be quite the coincidence,” he replied, glaring hard into her eyes. “Let me see this soldier, Sergeant.”
Eden followed behind the two men as they entered the building. The small room smelled of fever and grime. Trapped hornets and flies buzzed about, searching for their way out. Eden stood behind Rayce, her head held low, and opened a window.
Lying on top of a bed of thick wool blankets covered by a sheet, Patrick appeared to be asleep. Rayce poked his shoulder with his boot tip. “What’s your name, soldier?”
Patrick looked up, trying to focus. “Private Patrick McDowell, sir.”
“Huh, you don't say.”
Eden could feel Rayce’s eyes boring down upon her, bullying her with unspoken anger. Moving past him, she tilted her chin high and bent down next to Patrick. He looked comforted by her presence, his handsome smile curving upward as she felt his head. His fever had abated to some degree, but, clearly, he was still very ill.
“We need to move him to the medical area.” She looked around the room. “The air is stifling and foul in here. He needs proper attention.”
“Eden.” Patrick reached for her hand. “I’m glad you’re here, honey. You always were so good at caring for others.”
“Christ Almighty” Rayce muttered. “I’m going outside.” He marched out the entry and kicked up a wad of dirt with his boot, sending the clod flying past the door.
The sergeant snickered but stopped abruptly with a final awkward snort when he saw the seething gaze he had provoked. “Oh, uh...”
“Sergeant, I’m gonna ask you this once and once only.” Rayce pointed the gun at him, aiming right between the eyes. “I want you and your Yankee trash to empty your bags and your pockets in front of me, right now, and th
en you’re gonna hightail it out of here as if your life depends on it, because I assure you, it does.”
Patrick’s hand in hers felt odd and familiar at the same time, like an old dream she could no longer remember. All those many times they had held hands when they were young, she could never begin to count.
Eden tried to ignore the heated chattering outside. “How are you feeling today, Patrick? Any better?”
Patrick winced. “Not much. But seeing your beautiful face helps.”
She managed a stiff smile. “I’ll get some fresh water.” She rose to leave, but his hand remained on hers.
“How're Isaac and Jimmy? Last I heard they were hoofin' it like marching ants in the valley with Jackson. Any word, Eden?”
“That's the last I’ve heard, too.” Uncomfortable talking to him while he wore the uniform of the enemy, she pulled her hand from his. “I hope they're all right.”
“I do, too. I really do, you gotta believe me.” His blue eyes paled, and he bit down on his bottom lip. “Look, Eden, I have something to say...about us.”
She swallowed a gasp. Oh, Lord. She wasn’t sure what he would say or if she could bear to hear it. She snatched the empty pitcher. “I...I’ll be right back.”
She scurried outside and stopped dead in her tracks, startled to see the Yankee soldiers leaving on their horses in a flurry of red dust and pounding hooves. Littered and strewn about were their guns and haversacks, emptied of their contents of papers, letters, and personal belongings.
She looked up at Rayce. “For pity’s sake, what happened?”
“They were looking for trouble, that’s what,” he said. “They needed to go, and they're lucky I didn’t shoot them.” He started for his horse, the muscles at his jaw line tensing. “I’ll send Hetty and Daniel down to help you with...the other one.”
She hurried to his side, putting her arm out to stop him. “Rayce, I don’t know what to say. This is who I am—I'm a nurse. I can’t leave him like this; surely you understand that. I’ve known Patrick my entire life, and I just can’t turn my back on him now no matter what uniform he's wearing. What would you do?”
What would he do? Rayce stood there, staring down at her sweet face, weighing his options. Hell, there wasn’t much to think about. The answer is easy. What he’d do is physically remove the Yankee traitor from his property and away from Eden’s heart so he could claim her as his own. Simple as that. This guy had shattered his chance with her long ago, as far as he was concerned.
He looked into her eyes—pleading on behalf of the Yankee lout who broke her heart, no less. Given the situation presented to him now, it wasn’t clear where Eden truly stood with the young buck.
Dammit! His stomach twisted in knots. It sure as hell felt like he’d laid claim to her last night when they made love. But what man hasn’t been wrong about a woman at least once in his life, right?
Despite trying to remain cool and collected, Rayce faced her with a crushing glare. “You’ve known that man,” he said, pointing a firm finger at the outbuilding, “that man lying in there wearing a Yankee uniform, your whole life, you say? Tell me, Eden, at what point did you know he would run off and join with Virginia’s enemy? At what point did you know he wasn’t going to marry you?”
Judging by the look in her wide eyes, his harsh words had stung. But what the hell was he supposed to do? If it had been her brother, Isaac, lying there wounded or ill in the Yank uniform, perhaps the situation would have been different. Instead, the man calling to her, reaching for her hand and looking at her as though she were all that existed in his miserable world, was a traitor—a Yankee turncoat bastard who left her wounded and her heart broken. Yes, she was a nurse with a calling to help others, but compassion has boundaries.
“So...so what should we do with him?” she asked in a small, hesitant voice.
Part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and take her breath away with a passionate kiss, while the other part wanted to tear her to pieces for causing the crushing pain in his chest. He growled and kicked up dust as he walked haughtily toward her. He bent low, his face only inches from hers. “What are we going to do? What are you going to do, Eden? Your Yankee admirer is all yours, darlin’.”
He turned away, got on his horse, and galloped back toward the stables.
Chapter 12
“Oh, Major, how you do run on,” Ann cooed.
Eden looked at all the faces gathered around the dining table. She felt a sense of family for the first time in years. Trinidad had prepared a fine meal of smoked ham and potatoes, candied yams, and assorted baked breads with sweet butter. For dessert, everyone heartily devoured the creamy peanut butter pie. The only thing missing for the table to feel complete were Isaac, sitting next to Lucy, and Mama Claire serving them as usual.
Lucy descended from her bedroom to share in the meal, and the baby lay sweetly swaddled in her arms. Clearly happy to see Rayce, Lucy hung on his every word about the war and any news he had involving Stonewall's Brigade.
Seated between Rayce and Will Benton, Ann laid on her charms as thick as custard, squealing and laughing every time the men spoke. Will glowed with admiration every time Ann talked, and while she ordered him around like her own personal servant, he appeared enchanted to do anything that brought her pleasure.
Rayce was clearly the center of attention, and everyone took turns asking him questions about news from the front, the defense of Richmond, the state of the Confederacy, and more.
Everyone except Eden.
Trinidad presented the large tray of ham and rolls to Ann.
“Ham, Mrs. Blair?”
“Heaven's no,” Ann snorted. “You know I'll swell up like a tick if I have any more.”
Will cleared his throat and caught Rayce's attention. “Do tell, Major. Where do our boys stand right now? Is it as grand as they say about General Jackson's success in the valley?”
“It’s true. Jackson is a remarkable general. He and his foot soldiers have taken on the Yanks in the valley and given President Lincoln a big headache, I'm quite sure of that.”
Will's eyes lit up. “I've never had the pleasure of meeting General Jackson, have you?”
Rayce smiled. “We have met a time or two.”
“Isaac introduced me to him once at the academy,” Lucy chimed in. “I’m so proud of him and Jimmy fighting for us alongside that man.”
“As well you should be, dear.” Rayce winked. “They’re a brave and hearty bunch of men. Jackson’s making quite the name for himself, and it's well deserved.”
Ann's eyes widened. “Do tell us, Major—what's he like? I've heard he has blue eyes that can pierce your soul.”
“That I cannot personally vouch for, Mrs. Blair,” Rayce said, smiling. “I first met him back in Mexico, when he was a lieutenant. Course, I was just a young buck back then, but I remember him. He’s an earnest, unassuming man. I believe he’ll prove to be one of our finest generals.”
“You don't say,” Ann mused.
Will patted Ann's hand. “I know I shouldn't ask this in front of the womenfolk, but do we really stand a chance against the North, Major?”
Rayce paused before he spoke. “The Yanks have us outnumbered on the Peninsula, but if we can keep them convinced otherwise, yes, we stand a good chance of keeping them away from Richmond, at least for now.”
With so much talk of the war, Eden couldn’t keep her mind from wandering. As the day wore on, it became clear Patrick had a case of remittent fever from the attack of malaria he acquired years back. He appeared to be out of the woods and on the mend. Thankfully, Daniel and Hetty were taking turns tending to him.
She gazed out the window, wondering why she had been such a little fool. She should have allowed Patrick to explain himself when he offered to do so. Too many lonely nights had been wasted wondering why he had left her and joined with the North. How could leaving her have been so easy? Today, she had been face-to-face with him, but too cowardly to learn the truth.
Afte
r returning to him earlier, Patrick had looked pained when she pressed her finger to his lips and asked him not to speak. “Not now. Later,” she had insisted. Now, her unanswered questions scratched inside her belly, like a wicked claw with pointy, vile fingers, urging her to learn the truth once and for all.
She turned and looked at Rayce, sitting in his chair like a great Roman emperor upon his throne, a bounty of delicious foods, fine silver, and wine in crystal goblets surrounding him. His freshly shaven face looked handsomely weathered, and his neatly trimmed mustache revealed the wicked, white grin she had come to admire. His laugh sounded strong, hearty, and full of life, and he was clearly in his element with everyone laughing and listening to his stories. Without question, he appeared to be having a grand time. Still, throughout the meal, every time he glanced at her across the table, his eyes grew dark and perceptive, and she would fidget with her napkin, unable to meet his gaze.
Rayce rose from his chair. “If you lovely and charming companions will excuse me, I have a few items to tend to around here.” He bowed. “Will, perhaps we can meet for cigars and brandy in the parlor and continue our discussion when I'm finished?”
“Of course he will,” Anne insisted.
Will smiled and patted her hand. “I’d be delighted, Major.”
Trinidad began the long chore of removing the china and silver. Lucy excused herself to retire upstairs, just as Ann and Will announced they were going outside for an after-supper stroll.
With the evening winding down, Eden went upstairs, having decided to take her evening bath early before checking in once again on Patrick. In another day or two, he would likely be well enough to leave.
Rayce took his time walking to see the soldier. As he approached the open door of the outbuilding, he saw Hetty sitting in a chair, knitting next to Patrick, who appeared asleep on a bed of thick straw and linens.
Hetty rose when he entered. “Master Rayce.”
“Evening, Hetty. I believe Trinidad could use some help in the kitchen.”
“Yes, sir.” She gathered her needles and yarn and left in a flurry of calico.