The Officer and the Traveler

by Rose Gordon

  “The blood,” she rushed to say. “It’s…it wasn’t because you hurt me. Well, you did, but only a little…it was supposed to.”

  He nodded once. “That does relieve me to know I didn’t hurt you as bad as I thought I had, but it’s not just about the blood.” He attempted a wobbly smile, the best his bruised face would allow. “My feelings for you aren’t what they should be and I won’t take away any more of your dignity by asking you to do that again or I’d be no better than any of those men who used my mother and her friends.”

  A new sense of understanding came over her, one that made perfect sense at first, but then led to more questions. Numerous questions. Questions she wasn’t certain she wanted answered. Licking her lips, she screwed up the courage to ask just one. One that would answer so many others. “That woman, the one who I witnessed being held down and used by the men—”

  “Was my mother.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gray inwardly cursed himself for what he’d just revealed to her. No, she has a right to know. She was his wife, his future; she had a right to know every one of the sordid details of his past.

  “Michaela?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  Her eyes bore into him, but not really seeing him. The expression on her face suggested she might be trying to make sense of everything.

  “So the night at the brothel…”

  His heart constricted and blood pounded in his ears, cutting off anything else she might have said. He remembered that night better than almost any other night of his life. He’d happened upon a group of ten or so men who were taking turns pinning down a prostitute, while the others had their turn at her.

  She screamed and a man hit her across the face, then covered her mouth and threatened her not to make another noise. Her dress was ripped leaving her almost completely revealed as she flailed under their brutal treatment of her. Rage surged through him at their vile and rough treatment of her and he tried to stop them, but couldn’t. He was only a thin boy of sixteen and there were too many of them. They easily overpowered him. He fell to the ground battered and resigned, hurting and defeated, but he didn’t dare reveal who she was to him, lest either of them get a worse beating than they’d each already taken.

  But his hope didn’t matter. His mother called his name. Her tone was soft and nearly inaudible, but he’d heard her nonetheless. He met her tear filled eyes and followed them to where she looked at a large pile of rubble and waste material. He squinted at the hill of debris and through a small opening caught a glimpse of Michaela squatting behind a pile, peeking over the edge at the display of men through a small opening.

  With one last look back to his mother, pleading with her not to hate him for failing her, he crawled to Michaela and while the men were still distracted, he rescued the trembling girl before someone else saw her and hurt her.

  The same emotions that went through him that night cycled through him again at the memory. They’d both been scared. Unsure where to go and what to do, uncertain of his own future, he’d saddled a horse for them and had let the horse run as fast as he could away from the fort. When he was sure they were a safe distance away, they stopped. Climbing down to give the horse and them a rest, he’d offered her a piece of jerky from the ration he always kept in his shirt pocket, then took a seat and pulled her close. At sixteen, he’d been reluctant to admit that his holding her was for anything other than to assure her that she was safe and no harm would come to her, but at twenty five, he knew better. They’d both been looking for comfort and reassurance that night and had found it by embracing the other.

  How long they’d stayed there, nobody would ever know for it was the distant sound of a coyote howl that had pulled Gray from his fog. He needed to get Michaela home. The only trouble was, he couldn’t go there. Not yet. He needed to find out about his mother. It might be his only chance to see her again. It had already been almost two full years since he’d left her to go live with the colonel, he might not have another chance.

  He knew it wasn’t proper to take Michaela to a brothel and more than that, he knew he’d need to protect her while they were there, even if that meant revealing to her the shame of who he was.

  When they reached the brothel, Gray’s heart nearly exploded. General Davis’ horse was tied up in the front. That could only be bad news if the highest ranking officer from the fort had come. Not that he knew General Davis well, he didn’t. Only saw him in passing or when he’d been in trouble for a crime he might or might not have committed. It had always been a mystery to Gray why General Davis was always the first to learn of his indiscretion, but he assumed that was because he was the general, he knew everything.

  The brothel had been exactly how Gray had remembered it: full of dense smoke and reeking of sweat, and other fluids… Holding onto Michaela’s hand so she couldn’t be hauled off or bothered, he went upstairs. Waiting in the hall was a line of his mother’s friends. None bothered to cover up and a few of the newer girls who didn’t know him were shameless enough to even try to flirt with him. He forced himself to be polite and offered them each a wide smile and a kiss on the hand. His heart might be aching from what he’d witnessed earlier, but theirs were always aching for having to live that torment. A little kindness from a man, no matter his age, would go a long way as a balm for their crushed spirits. He couldn’t deny them that.

  When he reached the threshold of his mother’s room, he instantly went cold. General Davis was sitting at his mother’s bedside, holding her hand and kissing her cheek. So much made sense then. Why he’d been allowed to go live at the fort and why General Davis always knew every infraction he’d ever committed. Even why his mother had come to the fort that night: she and General Davis were carrying on a private love affair.

  Rage had built in his chest. If it hadn’t been for the general’s disgusting urges that led him to send for her, his mother would have never endured such torture.

  A second later the man looked up and surged to his feet. He came to the hall and his softened face turned to granite when he glimpsed Michaela. Gray abruptly released Michaela’s hand and ignored the general’s demand that they needed to speak. He didn’t give a damn. All that mattered to him at that moment was the battered woman lying in bed calling to him. With a quick directive of his own in the form of ‘go to hell’, Gray slammed the door and went where he was needed most.

  “Gray?”

  Gray’s whole body jerked painfully. “Sorry,” he said, blinking. “I was woolgathering. Did you say something?”

  “Just that I’m sorry,” she said in a broken whisper. “I—I had no idea. All these years, I thought—” She swallowed convulsively. “Never mind what I thought. It was selfish.”

  “Selfish?”

  She discovered a recent fascination with her fingernails. “That night, when you took me on the horse, I thought…thought… Well, I thought you’d changed your mind about me, or were starting to. Then, when we arrived at the brothel and you so easily dropped all interest in me to go running into the room of the lady who was calling your name, I was devastated. I didn’t realize what everything meant to you. I just saw how I felt and—and I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Michaela. As you said, you didn’t know. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “But my father, he—he—he…”

  “Was my mother’s friend,” he said with a frown.

  Michaela gasped, covering her face with her hands. “No. No. That can’t be.”

  “What can’t be?”

  “I don’t think they were friends, Gray.”

  He twisted his lips. “They weren’t friends in the way that you and I are friends, no. They were other kinds of friends.”

  “Lovers.”

  He grimaced. He’d always hated the way that word sounded. They might have had a professional relationship, but he didn’t believe for a moment that any love passed between them. “Yes. They were the type of friends who sha
red certain intimacies. And yes, she was on her way to the fort that night to see him, consequently,” he said before she could ask.

  “Gray, I am so sorry,” she said again.

  “Don’t be. You can’t change the past any more than I can.” He swallowed the hard lump that was in his throat.

  “I know I can’t, but is there nothing that I can do to show compassion or seek forgiveness for the hatred I’ve let fester all these years?”

  He tried to chuckle but ended up wincing and groaning in pain. He’d assumed her bitterness toward him when he’d first arrived was just because he’d never shown any interest in her overall during their time at Fort Henry, not because of the events of one night. He reached for her hand and in the most serious and authoritative voice he could muster under the circumstances said, “Now that I’m your husband, you must banish all hatred post haste. As for the other, your father tried to make it right the only way he could by sending me to West Point.”

  “Is that bitterness I hear in your tone, Captain Grayson Montgomery?” she teased.

  “Perhaps a bit.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him, suddenly very tired.

  “Thank you for telling me your secrets, Gray. I’m glad you did.”

  Oddly enough, so was he.

  Chapter Twenty

  Michaela could hardly wait to see her father so she could start demanding some answers. She’d kept quiet long enough.

  Fortunately for her, the chance came sooner than she’d expected when a swift, bang, bang, bang resounded on their door.

  “Just use your key,” Pa snapped from behind the door.

  “I’m giving them a chance to answer,” Uncle George said tightly.

  Michaela wiggled in Gray’s strong hold and looked up to his face. He looked tired and weary. Whatever time they’d just been allowed for him to sleep hadn’t been enough.

  “I’ll send them away,” she assured him.

  The corner of his mouth pulled up in the hint of a smile.

  “Do you not believe me?”

  He shrugged. “I just want to see you try, that’s all. They’re both very determined.”

  “And so am I.” She climbed off the bed and walked to the door. “He’s not accepting visitors right now,” she said by way of greeting to her father and Uncle George.

  Father ignored her and pushed past her to enter her room. Uncle George gave her an apologetic smile and a shrug as he and another man she hadn’t seen before came inside.

  “I don’t believe my wife gave you permission to come in here,” Gray said evenly.

  “You look bad, Grayson,” Pa said.

  Gray stared at him. “Apologize to her.”

  “Why aren’t you lying down?”

  Gray didn’t answer, just stared at her father.

  “Apologize for what?” Pa burst out.

  “For ignoring her when she spoke to you.”

  “Boy, if a man listened every time a woman spoke, he’d never leave his house.”

  “You know what I meant. She told you not to come in here and you pushed right past her before she’d finished speaking. Now apologize.”

  “Must have taken a hard hit to the head.”

  “Not too hard that my thick skull didn’t protect me,” Gray said through clenched teeth. “This is Michaela’s home, too, and you should have respected her enough to have listened to her, and not just let yourself in.”

  “You need someone to look after your injuries,” Pa said unapologetically.

  “And I’ll let old sawbones over there do his job after you apologize to Michaela.”

  Michaela nearly let out a nervous giggle. She didn’t think her father had apologized to her. Ever. Leave it to Gray to demand the impossible.

  “I’m sorry, Michaela,” Pa practically barked.

  “Next time don’t ignore her,” Gray warned, scooting down on the bed to lie down.

  The strange man in the room, who Michaela suspected was who Gray had referred to as “old sawbones” came forward and began an examination of Gray, noting the lacerations on his face and the bruises on his midsection.

  “Anything below the waist?” he asked, casting a pointed glance at Gray’s groin.

  Michaela’s skin grew warm. She hadn’t even thought to ask if he’d been injured there.

  “It’ll be fine,” Gray said harshly, moving a hand to shield that part of his anatomy. Apparently, men like Gray had a bit of modesty, too.

  Shame washed over her. Men like Gray? Everything he’d told her this afternoon contradicted everything she’d ever believed to be true about him. He wasn’t the womanizer she’d mistakenly believed him to be based on his knowing the names of everyone in the brothel and being acquainted with where everything was. She shook her head. She still had questions, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Well, if your stones continue to hurt or turn purple, come see me,” the medic said with a grunt.

  “That won’t be happening. Your solution to everything is amputation,” Gray said with a snarl.

  The medic chuckled then placed a hand on either side of Gray’s abdomen and ran his fingers slowly up and down the sides, pushing on different places. “Inhale. Again.”

  Gray sucked in a breath and winced and bucked.

  “Try again,” the medic said, digging his fingers in deeper into Gray’s skin near the protrusions.

  Gray did as he was instructed, cursing in pain.

  “Cracked ribs, I’m afraid,” the medic concluded.

  Michaela had guessed as much just by looking at him.

  The medic dug into his bag and pulled out an amber bottle. “Laudanum. It’ll help him sleep until he can start healing. He should be able to walk and work just fine within three days.”

  Michaela doubted that was true, but understood that injured men who weren’t missing limbs, were still men well enough to work. She took the laudanum from the medic. “Thank you for coming by.”

  “Thank you for your fine hospitality,” Pa said sarcastically.

  She was tempted to let that go, but she couldn’t. “I need to speak to you.” She cast a glance back at Gray. “Can you come back after I give this to him?”

  Her father sobered. “Is there something more serious, Michaela?”

  “N-no,” she lied. What she had to say was serious indeed, but it wasn’t about Gray’s injuries. “I just want to talk.”

  “I don’t have time to just talk. Now that Gray is injured and Ridgely is more determined than ever to see Gray be punished, I need to find out what I can before his trial.”

  “When is his trial?”

  “I don’t know yet. We’re still waiting to hear back from General Bridges.”

  “Please, Pa, come back to speak to me. It’s important.”

  He sighed. “All right. But it had better be important.”

  ***

  Samuel Davis had the strangest suspicion that what Michaela wanted to speak to him about was not only irrelevant these days but wasn’t an easy topic to trudge through.

  He mindlessly ran his thumb over the edge of his chin. At least she’d married. He’d always worried she wouldn’t and when he was gone, what or who would she have in this world? Nothing. No one. Now she had Grayson. His heart hurt all over at just the thought of his son-in-law’s name. Grayson had always meant well, but even sometimes those with good intentions find themselves in trouble. Just like now.

  Closing the door to the storage closet behind the ammunition storage, he bit back a grin. Living at military forts had been his life. What he loved more than anything. He’d retired four years ago when Michaela’s mother had become sick and couldn’t stay on post with him any longer. The physician said fresh air and open spaces would be best for her so he’d retired and they’d moved to a plantation outside of Savannah. He’d gone so she could live out her last days comfortably and his daughters could make good matches.

  He crested the top of the stairs that led to the rooms where his daughters stayed. He paused and
looked out over the fort. Considering what Michaela might want to talk to him about, it might be the last time he got to enjoy such a view.

  “I thought I was going to have to hire a spy to track you down,” Michaela said, opening her door. She stepped aside for him to enter.

  “Oh, so I’m allowed to come in this time?”

  A shy smile spread her lips. “I don’t know what came over him earlier.”

  “He’s just a husband trying to show a protective interest in what’s his.” Samuel came inside and sat down. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “You didn’t seem to accept that earlier,” she pointed out.

  “No. I’m used to getting my way, and he wasn’t giving in.” He couldn’t stop his grin. “That’s the way he’s always been with me though.”

  “Do you blame him?”

  “No, I don’t suppose I do. Not when he’ll forever hold me responsible for killing his mother.”

  ***

  All the air in Michaela’s lungs left with a swift whoosh. She hadn’t expected her father to be so blunt.

  “I see I’ve shocked you.”

  “I just thought I’d have to pry a little more, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do that, too.” Pa crossed his ankles. “What would you like to know?”

  Michaela walked in a circle on the floor. There were so many things she wanted to know. So many questions she’d listed in her mind before he’d come in. Then he’d been so blunt and now she couldn’t think.

  “I’m assuming you knew all along who everyone was?”

  He didn’t even blink at her unclear statement. “You mean that Rebecca was Grayson’s mother?”

  Michaela nodded numbly. She’d only ever heard her father use his lover’s name once, the night she’d first confronted him after she’d found evidence of their affair: a heavily perfumed letter signed: I’ll be waiting for you always, for you’ll always own my heart, Rebecca. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why did you need to know?” he countered.

  “Because…because,” she stammered. “You know why.”

  “Because you were helplessly in love with her son?”