The Fragrance of Her Name

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “You see?” Brant asked, in a low voice sending goose bumps erupting over Lauryn’s body.

  “Yes,” she admitted in a nervous whisper.

  “So? Can I smell you?” he asked again. He grinned mischievously and Lauryn wondered how any woman could ever deny him anything. Still, she knew he would find no such magnificent visions in his mind evoked by the fragrance of her flesh.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  “I…I suppose,” she managed to say. “But you will be greatly disappointed if you’re expectin’ me to bring some lovely fragrance across the breezes to fill your lungs when…” She was silenced when his hand clamped over her mouth.

  “Shhhh,” he commanded. “I’m smelling.” Lauryn obeyed, delighted by the powerful, controlling sensation of his hand quieting her. As Brant bent down, inhaling deeply of her hair, she searched her mind frantically to remember if she’d perfumed it that morning. She hadn’t! And then when he bent and placed his nose at her neck just above her shoulder, she truly panicked. What soap had she washed her neck with that morning? Had it been the plain, unscented soap her mother provided for regular bathing? Or, had it been the lovely spice scented soap her Nana made and gave as gifts?

  Slowly his assessment of her moved upward, caressing the flesh of her neck with his face. His rough whiskers prickled delightfully, and once or twice his lips brushed her skin, feeling almost like a teasing kiss. Lauryn fought to maintain her steady breathing. She had an incredible urge to reach out and run her fingers through his hair! To kiss him straight on the mouth! But she resisted and simply let him finish his lingering appraisal of her.

  With a heavy sigh, Brant straightened, his smile fading. It must’ve been the unscented soap, Lauryn thought with disappointment. He rubbed his temples with one hand, frowning.

  “I don’t smell like…” she began. “I told you that I wouldn’t.”

  “You smell like the best thing a man could ever taste,” he mumbled.

  Lauryn gasped, astonished at the nearly poetic charm of his words. They were so…so intimately flattering. So…so flirtatious. And then she realized the truth. It was merely that…flattery. Lauryn’s heart panged with hurt at her mind’s interpretation of Brant’s remark.

  “Givin’ false compliments is unbecomin’ to anyone, Mr. Masterson.” She stood there before him, nearly panting with nervous anxiety and trying to understand his frustration at not having his sight. Trying to forgive him for giving such counterfeit tribute to her. She knew what she smelled like. She smelled like soap and linen, Tennessee grass and garden soil. But she surely did not smell like something any man would want to taste! Still, she forgave him his cruelty, marveling again at how completely sincere he had sounded.

  She was startled when Brant reached out and rather brutally wove his fingers through her hair pulling her face close to his. “It was not a false compliment! I don’t give false compliments! It was the truth. Self-pity over the fact that you do not like your own appearance does not become you, Lauryn.”

  “And you think self-pity over losin’ your sight is becomin’ to you?” Lauryn retorted. Before she even finished her retaliation she regretted it. When she saw the look of self-hatred pass over the visible portions of his face she was humbled. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching up and taking his face in her hands. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you….”

  He pulled away, turning from her. “No…you’re right. You’re right. I’m not who I was before.”

  “Yes, you are. I’m sure you are! You just…”

  “No. I’m…I’m lost somehow.”

  Lauryn stood before him as a look of dejection crossed his face and he sat on the sofa. She desperately wanted to help him! To help him help himself. “Your brother will be here soon. I’m certain that will give you strength.”

  “Yes. It will,” he mumbled. But she knew he was unconvinced.

  He looked so conquered, so miserable! Lauryn felt she could not endure. Everything in her that was born to nurture burst forth. Reaching down and taking his face in her hands, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead. Immediately, she scolded herself, horrified at her own actions as he pushed her hands from his face and frowned at her.

  “I’ve had my fill of pity, Lauryn,” Brant growled. “I don’t want any more of it.”

  Tears were heavy in Lauryn’s eyes as she stared down at him. “You have a lesson to learn, Brant Masterson. There is a world of difference between pity and compassion!” Her voice broke revealing her emotion as she whispered, “Don’t worry. You’ll not receive either from me again.” And she ran from the room in tears.

  Brant squeezed his already closed and useless eyes more tightly shut. He rubbed at his whiskers with one tired hand. Where was he? What was he doing? Never had he struck out so harshly at a woman. Never! And, if anything was certain, it was that this girl didn’t deserve to be the brunt of his frustration, wrath and self-loathing.

  “You owe her an apology.” Brant straightened and turned toward Sean’s voice.

  “What?” he asked, startled to find he was not alone in the room.

  “Lauryn doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment, boy,” the man said.

  Sighing heavily with great humiliation, Brant answered, “I know it. I know it!”

  “Then take care of it. I’m sure it’s not like you to treat a woman like that. You want to find yourself, Brant? Then you like yourself.”

  Brant nodded. Then humbly he asked. “Will…will you take me to her, Sean? I obviously couldn’t run after her myself.” He reached out and found a firm, strong shoulder on which to place his hand, following in silence, humbled to have been so wisely reprimanded. Odd though…he had remembered Sean as being taller.

  When they reached the top of the stairs and stood just inside Lauryn’s bedroom, Brant heard Lauryn’s soft sniffling. Gritting his teeth and angry with himself, he dropped his hand from his escort’s shoulder. Stepping into her room, he mumbled, “Lauryn? May I come in?”

  “If you’ve come to apologize, there’s no need. I understand that….” Lauryn’s tearful voice began.

  “Oh, there is need, sugar,” Brant interrupted, humbly. “I am so sorry. You have shown me nothing but friendship and compassion and hospitality and I repay you by…”

  “Please….I don’t want you to apologize,” she whispered tearfully.

  Brant was reminded that, in the past, when he offered her an apology, he gave the excuse that his Aunt Felicity would have expected of him. It was apparent that she thought this apology was offered for the same sort of reason—an apology of good manners only.

  “I am sincerely sorry, Lauryn. Please understand….I’m a frustrated man. I….I’m wandering without a direction most of the time. I….”

  “How did you get up here by yourself?” she asked suddenly.

  Brant was confused. “He led me up here. He…”

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Your brother, Sean.” But, as Brant thought about it again, the man’s voice hadn’t really sounded like Sean. “At least…I supposed it was.”

  “Sean isn’t here. You came in alone,” Lauryn explained.

  Brant stood frozen, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. “But someone led me in here…I…”

  “He told you he was my brother?” Lauryn asked.

  “No, no. I just assumed. He called me by name and….”

  Lauryn shivered as sudden understanding enveloped her. She fairly trembled with the knowledge that someone else in the world had been touched by the Captain!

  “I think you’ve met the Captain for the first time, Brant,” Lauryn whispered. The hurt was gone from her voice, she had moved closer to him, and he dared to reach out and find her hand.

  And, even though it was obviously a profound revelation to him—one that would need consideration, Lauryn fancied it was secondary in importance to him for he simply repeated his apology. “I’m sorry for my behavior downstairs. All of it.”

  “All of it?” she asked. Sh
e was disappointed somehow.

  “Not all of it. Just my….my snapping at you. My lack of gratitude.” His hand was warm and strong and hers seemed so small as he held it. He appeared to take comfort in her touch as well for he kept softly caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. It was exactly what she had been trying to give him downstairs. Comfort.

  “Friends?” Brant said at last.

  “Yes,” Lauryn whispered squeezing his hand.

  “All right then. I’ll leave you to your privacy.” Then, it appeared, he remembered how dependant he was. “I’ll leave you to your privacy as soon as you lead me from it.”

  “Not now!” Lauryn exclaimed. “Not when you’ve just met the Captain!”

  Brant turned to her again the realization of what had just transpired seeming to wash over him. “I…I heard his voice. He spoke to me as if …”

  “It must seem remarkable to you,” Lauryn mused. “You’ve touched them both, Brant! Do you realize that?” She was quiet for a moment before whispering, “I…I envy you.”

  “Oh, don’t envy me, sweet Lauryn,” he told her. “Don’t envy me.”

  “But I do,” she confessed. “I know the Captain so well. And knowin’ him and knowin’ the past…I’ve always wanted to know Lauralynn. But you…you’ve met them both.”

  Brant nodded but was silent. Then he asked, “Where is she, Lauryn? Where could she possibly be that you haven’t looked? She couldn’t have gone far. There was a battle raging on your front lawn! She couldn’t have gone far.”

  Lauryn was all too aware of the discouragement in him. His voice fairly dripped with it. “I don’t know, Brant, but I’m not givin’ up.” She felt that in him, too—the spirit of a man who’d been beaten down and was considering all impossibilities.

  He nodded, seeming somewhat strengthened once more. “All right. All right. I won’t…”

  “Lauryn? Lauryn Kensington?” Lauryn’s mother called as she came up the stairs. “There you are!” she exclaimed upon finding her daughter. “You’ve got company, child! Penny is here!”

  “Penny?” Lauryn squealed with delightedly. “Oh, Brant! Come on.” She took his hand and began to pull him along behind her. “You’ll adore Penny!” For a moment, Lauryn’s mind spoke to her reminding her that she wouldn’t want Brant to adore Penny too much.

  “Penny?” Brant asked.

  “The dearest friend of my childhood!” Lauryn giggled. “Oh, I bet she’s madder than a buzzin’ ol’ hornet that I haven’t come by since she got back.”

  “Slow down, Lauryn!” her mother warned. “You’ll send Brant tumblin’ headlong down the stairs.”

  Brant fared the stairs fine. It wasn’t until they reached the bottom and he was safely down that Lauryn dropped his hand, squealed gleefully, and threw her arms around the neck of her dear friend, Penny McGovern.

  Penny squealed and, as the two girls stood hugging and giggling, Georgia shook her head, smiling and said to Brant, “Those two. They’re like little eight-year old girls again when they’re together.” Brant grinned, obviously gathering as much just from the squealing and giggling that was going on. “Penny has been Lauryn’s friend…well, since they were babies!” Georgia explained. “And she’ll have plenty of questions about Lauryn’s tall, handsome soldier.”

  “I guess you’re stuck with me for awhile then, Mrs. Kensington,” Brant told her.

  Georgia smiled and took Brant’s hand. “Sweetheart, any woman would be happier than a baby in a candy store to have you to herself for a while.”

  “And who is this?” Penny asked Lauryn, as she caught sight of Brant. Penny’s brilliantly green eyes widened with curiosity. Lauryn smiled at her friend who smoothed her lovely blonde hair back from her face and straightened the collar of her blouse even though it was obvious the stranger before her couldn’t see to judge her appearance.

  Lauryn pointed to Brant proudly, her heart swelling at the sight of him. “This is Brant Masterson,” she said.

  Penny walked to Brant taking his free hand in hers and shaking it firmly. “I’m Penny McGovern, Mr. Masterson,” she said. “And I take it that you’re Lauryn’s souvenir from New Orleans?”

  Brant smiled, obviously delighted with Penny’s sense of humor. “That would be one way to put it, I guess,” he chuckled.

  “Unfortunately,” Georgia explained. “He’s only a temporary souvenir. Isn’t that right, Lauryn.”

  “Unfortunately,” Lauryn agreed with a giggle.

  “Temporary?” Penny whined. “Why, Mr. Masterson…are you gonna disappear like a dream or somethin’?”

  “Maybe like a nightmare, Miss McGovern,” Brant teased.

  “Stop that, Brant,” Georgia scolded, dropping his hand and playfully slapping the young man on the shoulder. “Now, you children go on into the parlor and have a chat. I’ll bring in somethin’ warm for you to drink.” Georgia turned and left. Taking Brant’s hand, Lauryn led him into the parlor.

  Brant was quite amused listening to the girls’ conversation. They chattered away like two little birds at a velocity that made his head spin. The only uncomfortable part of it was they kept involving him in their conversation. It was obvious that this Penny McGovern was being eaten alive by her curiosity where Brant was concerned. Lauryn simply explained that he was a friend she and her Nana met on the train who was staying at Connemara for a while.

  They prattled on. It was amazing! Brant wondered how either one of them actually heard and understood what the other was saying. They spoke of Lauryn’s stay in New Orleans, which was very revealing to Brant. He gathered that she did not like the Crescent City. It was dirty and lewd. There was excellent food and it was wonderfully historic, but too much a big city for the likes of a girl from a small town. Brant liked that. For some reason, it made him like Lauryn even more to know she was an old-fashioned, small town girl.

  Penny had been away to school in Memphis. Her adventures were quite amusing. She seemed the kind of girl bound to stumble into embarrassing situations, and it was quite obvious she possessed a certain confidence where men were concerned that Lauryn pleasingly lacked.

  For near to an hour Brant sat listening or conversing with the two young ladies. It was the most entertainment he’d had for months. But, he was somewhat relieved when Sean arrived and found him being verbally accosted by the two young females.

  “For Pete’s sake, Lauryn!” Sean chuckled, upon entering the room. “What are you tryin’ to do? Send Brant to the asylum? Y’all will drive him crazy.”

  “Hush, Sean!” Penny scolded. “Mr. Masterson has adored bein’ here with us. Haven’t you, Mr. Masterson?”

  “Oh, of course,” Brant agreed with a smile.

  “These girls will turn you soft, boy,” Sean argued. “You come along with me. We’ll have us some manly conversation.” Brant chuckled as he stood and found Sean’s shoulder. Indeed, he realized now, that he should never have assumed that it had been Sean who had led him to Lauryn earlier. Sean was much taller, his voice not as deep.

  “Come along, Brant,” Sean insisted. “We’ll leave these to hens to their peckin’.”

  “Hush your mouth, Sean,” Lauryn said. But the girls went back to their giggling and happy conversation. Brant paused in wanting to leave them. He knew that once he was gone, Penny would be popping out questions about him to Lauryn at an even more amazing pace. But, what else could he do?

  Sean led Brant to the kitchen and to the table. “You have a seat. I’ll dig us up somethin’ to eat,” he said.

  “Oh, I’ve yet to eat something here that tasted like it was dug up,” Brant replied.

  “I hear you there, Brant.” Sean looked in the icebox and found some smoked turkey. “Had my fill of eatin’ horse manure when I was over there, too.”

  “So, it was the flu that sent you home?” Brant asked.

  “Nearly died of it. Don’t know how I didn’t. So many boys did.” Sean placed the turkey on the table and began slicing bread. “Came home to watch Daddy pass
away from it. I felt guilty over that. But then Junie was born and I realized…it was good that I made it.”

  “Are you past it?” Brant asked. “The war, I mean. Being there?”

  Sean looked at the blind man sitting at his mama’s kitchen table. His sympathy was profound at that moment for he understood what Brant meant. Furthermore, he understood that being blind prevented Brant from seeing the beauty he’d fought for. Only another soldier could completely understand.

  “No. I don’t think you ever get past it. But, there’s ways that help,” he confessed. “The nightmares are the worst for me.”

  Brant nodded. “Yeah.”

  “But, I’m a lucky cuss. I’ve got Mindy right there to hold in my arms when they wake me up. Sometimes I can smell it, you know?” Sean asked. Brant nodded. “The fire, the guns, the mud.”

  “The death,” Brant added.

  “Yep. But don’t worry, Brant. The arms of a woman you love…that’s your tonic for it.”

  Brant smiled. It was quite a euphoric cure, he could well imagine.

  “Why don’t you try it out on Lauryn?” Sean suggested, impishly. “Swoop her up in your arms and kiss the devil out of her! You’d be surprised the healin’ power that would have. I’m sure it would go a long way for easin’ your mind.”

  “Easing my mind maybe…but not my integrity,” Brant chuckled.

  Sean chuckled. “I’d love to see the look on her face! She’d probably die right there out of pure rapture!” Sean laughed again, obviously amused at the thought of his sister’s surprise.

  “I’ve no doubt she’d die, all right,” Brant agreed, smiling. “But I doubt it would be from rapture.”

  “Well, you don’t know Lauryn like I do. And anyhow…not to offend you, boy…but you haven’t seen the look on her face when you’re in the room.”