by Debra Glass
“They’re here to take the Yankee wounded,” Rose gasped.
Mrs. O’Neal looked around the crowded roadhouse. “Maybe they’ll clear up some space. More are being brought in by the wagonload. More Confederates.”
Rose felt helpless. She picked her way through the pallets, ignoring the soldiers who tugged at her skirts begging for water and laudanum. “Dr. McVay,” she called.
He peeped through the stained curtain of the operating room. With his hands and apron covered in blood, he looked more like a butcher than a doctor.
“They’re going to take Colonel Skaarsberg to Andersonville,” Rose blurted but she already knew Dr. McVay didn’t have the time to help her.
“He’s well enough to go.” McVay disappeared back into the operating room.
Rose wanted to collapse. She wanted to cry. But there was no time for that. She worked her way back to the door and stumbled as she crossed the threshold onto the porch.
One of the soldiers already had Eric in manacles. Her Eric.
“No!” Rose wailed. She darted to the lieutenant in charge. “This man has helped several of the townspeople. Is there no way you can leave him here? He was wounded at Happy Hollow and the journey to Andersonville will surely kill him.”
“My orders were to take them all, miss. Now please, step aside.”
Rose glanced at Eric. Wearing his slouch hat and standing in his greatcoat with his hands in rusted chains, he seemed resigned to his fate. Rose shook her head and whirled on the lieutenant in charge once again. “You can’t take him. Please. Make this one exception,” she said, clutching at his gray coat.
He jerked away. “Ma’am! Please step aside.”
“Rose.” Eric’s stern voice carried above the din.
Her gaze shot to his. There was nothing more she could do. Nothing more she could say. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she waded across the muddy ground to where he stood. She wanted to fall into his arms and sob. She wanted to hold onto him so they couldn’t take him. Tears fell down her cheeks.
“The war will be over soon and I’ll come back,” he said. “I won’t take no for an answer then. Do you understand me, Rose?”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
“I’ll come back and when I do, you will marry me,” he said, holding her gaze. A sad little smile pulled at one corner of his sensuous lips.
Rose shook but it wasn’t from the cold. She stared for a moment and then turned once more to the lieutenant. “This man has…has compromised me,” she cried.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and gaped.
“Rose—”
Trembling, Rose continued. “He has ruined my reputation and therefore, I at least deserve to be made an honest woman before you cart him off.”
The lieutenant stalked toward them. “Is this true, Sir?”
Rose turned and, even though her words were directed at the lieutenant, she looked into Eric’s eyes. “I want to marry him before you take him.”
Eric’s gaze never wavered from hers. “Bring us a minister,” he said.
“Shit,” the lieutenant cursed, exasperated. “Somebody go find a damn preacher.”
While they waited for someone to retrieve the Presbyterian minister, Dr. Mitchell, Rose clasped Eric’s chained hands in hers. A courage she had never known flowed through her. Before, she’d been afraid of losing him. Now she only wanted to be a part of him, no matter what happened.
“Are you certain?” he asked. “I may not—”
“You’ll come back,” she said. She swallowed. “Be sure to keep…to keep your wound clean. And don’t let them take your…your coat.”
“I promise,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Rose.”
She lifted her gaze to his and searched his eyes. “I love you.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Dr. Mitchell asked as he traipsed down the muddy street.
Rose turned to discover that he had his Bible in his hand. She was really going to marry Eric. Right here. Right now. Love and fear mingled and rampaged through her veins.
“These two want to get married,” the lieutenant said blandly.
Mitchell scratched his black beard. “It’s about time.”
Rose suppressed a laugh as Mitchell opened his Bible and began to recite the ceremony.
She brushed her thumb over Eric’s hands as the vows were read and then delivered.
“What about rings?” Mitchell asked when he got to that part.
“We don’t have rings,” Rose said. “Yet.” She smiled at Eric.
“No rings?” Mitchell asked.
Rose clung to Eric, never wanting this moment to end.
But it did end. It ended when the lieutenant said, “That’s enough. Let’s get this rig rolling.”
Panic swamped her again. “No, please! No.”
“Rose, don’t do this,” Eric said. “I want my memory of you to be with a smile, not crying and shivering in the cold. Do me that honor.”
Her shoulders shook. She pursed her lips and batted her lashes trying in vain to keep the tears from falling.
“Step back, Mrs. Skaarsberg,” the lieutenant said. “We’ve got to move out.”
“Will you look after him?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes. “I give you my word.”
“Thank you,” she said softly and then she squeezed Eric’s hands once more before she stepped back.
She held her husband’s gaze as the Confederates mounted their horses. The driver released the brake on the prison wagon.
“Move out!” the lieutenant ordered.
With a sickening lurch, the horses and wagon began to move. The miserable band of bedraggled Yankee soldiers chained to the back shuffled along behind.
Rose brought her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Her stomach churned and she fought the wave of nausea that seized her.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Eric called stumbling behind the wagon.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t y’all leave outta here yet!” a voice called.
Rose reluctantly dragged her gaze from Eric and saw Euphrates running as fast as his feet would carry his giant frame. He waved a piece of paper in his massive black hand. “Wait! I got sumpin’ fo’ you from Cap’n Martin!”
“What now?” the lieutenant said, reining his horse in.
The rest of the wagon train ground to a halt.
Euphrates didn’t stop running until he’d put the crumpled piece of paper in the lieutenant’s hand. As the lieutenant read over the letter, Euphrates bent over and braced his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. “Mistah James couldn’t come,” Euphrates gasped, “on account o’ he’s only got one leg but he sent me flyin’ with that. He say if you have any questions, you to come see him.”
The lieutenant glanced back at Eric and then at the paper again. “Remove Colonel Skaarsberg’s cuffs,” he told the man who had the key ring looped to his belt.
Rose gaped. She couldn’t believe this. Her heart soared as Eric was released. He stood, rubbing his wrists and gave a respectful nod to the lieutenant.
“Seems you have friends in Florence, Colonel,” the lieutenant said. “Move out, men!”
Rose rushed into Eric’s arms, burying her face against his chest and clinging while the others left.
Euphrates straightened. “Dey couldn’t take you. Not after what you did fo’ Mistah James. I don’t care if you is a Yankee.”
Eric laughed.
Rose lifted her head. She couldn’t stop smiling. “Thank you, Euphrates. Thank you. Come by the house and I’ll get some meal and eggs together for you and your missus.”
Euphrates nodded his head. “Yessum. We’d be obliged. But right now all I wants is a drink of water.”
“I think we can manage that,” Eric said.
“The lieutenant didn’t let me finish,” Dr. Mitchell said.
Rose arched an eyebrow. “Finish?”
Dr. Mitchell smiled. “I now pron
ounce you man and wife. Colonel Skaarsberg, you may kiss your bride.”
Eric dragged his hat off his head and crushed Rose to his chest. Tears of sadness transformed into tears of joy as she tilted her chin up. He kissed her hard on the mouth and then lifted his head and brushed the errant locks of hair from her forehead. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
About the Author
Growing up in the south, where the air is thick with stories steeped in legend and truth, Debra came by her love of romance novels honestly. Well…sort of. At an early age, she pilfered from her grandmother’s extensive library and has been a fan of the genre since.
A full-time freelance writer, Debra especially enjoys combining history, mystery and a touch of taboo to weave stories with unforgettable, haunted heroes.
She lives in Alabama with her sexy real life hero, a couple of smart-aleck ghosts and a diabolical black cat.
Debra welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Debra Glass
Bad Kitty
Badcock
Bought and Paid For
Death by Chocolate
Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy I anthology
Having Patience
Lucid
Phantom Lovers 1: Gatekeeper
Phantom Lovers 2: Shadowkeeper
Phantom Lovers 3: Watchkeeper
Restraint
Spirit Lifter
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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