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Destiny's Temprtress

Page 8

by Janelle Taylor


  She explained how she had been forced to flee her father’s northern partner, noticing his wary look when she told him where she was staying. “My father knew Mister Van Lew, so I imposed on Miss Elizabeth when I managed to get this far South. She kindly took me in, fed me, and loaned me clothing. Can you give me a pass to get home, sir? I must see if Greenleaf has survived this war. Then I’ll find some way to locate Corry and free him. When I heard you were here, I thought you would want to know about Father and Temple.”

  “The people are becoming bitter, Miss Shannon. Either the South will soon know glorious victory or tragic defeat. When President Buchanan said he would not hold the Southern states in the Union by force, we believed him. It sounded so simple and quick years ago. Now the land runs red with Confederate blood. Suspicions and wild charges abound. We’ve lost too many good men like Andrew and Temple Greenleaf. I fear the weight of this office grows heavier each day. At this moment, Union troops are moving closer to Richmond. Some have taunting picnics at my beloved Briarfield. We need food, supplies, guns, medicines, horses. We need money and hope, Miss Shannon.”

  “I have none of those things to give you, sir. Simon Travers controls the Greenleaf business and fortune, if he hasn’t stolen them by now. I hoped and prayed I would be safer among friends. I never expected to find such utter destruction, so much death and misery. Is there no way to establish a truce, sir?”

  They were interrupted by a messenger. Shannon felt wicked as she eavesdropped on the conversation outside the study door. Horror filled her. She hurried back to her seat and waited for Davis’s return.

  When he again entered the room, Davis was distracted and dismayed over the news he had received. Shannon told him she would return to Miss Van Lew’s and leave him to his work. She smiled when he said he would have a pass prepared and sent over to her.

  “Well, what did you learn?” Elizabeth probed eagerly as she sat with Shannon in the parlor.

  “Sheridan is having large victories to the west; he’s trying to drive Anderson out of the Shenandoah Valley. Grant is keeping Lee on the move. They’re not far from here, slightly southeast. Sherman has been ordered to head south out of Tennessee to sever the supply lines through Georgia, then turn northeastward. They intend to trap the leading Confederate officers and men between them. They plan to keep squeezing and squeezing until they conquer Richmond.”

  “But that’s all good news for our side, deary. What about the Rebs?” Her blond ringlets danced up and down as she moved her head.

  “That’s the point, Lizzie. They know all about the Union’s plans. How could those newspapers be so foolish? They’ve been printing battle strategies! The Rebels sneak in the papers and learn our moves, then make a strong defense line. No wonder this war is endless. There is some bad news for our side. There have been numerous casualties during the last few months, and they plan to make the South pay. Davis said Sheridan planned to leave nothing in the Shenandoah Valley—nothing, Lizzie.”

  The older woman patted her hand, then cooed like a dove, “Now, now, deary, enemies can’t fight without supplies. It’s one of those evil necessities of war, weakening and discouraging your enemies.”

  “But there are women, children, and old people living there. What about winter? Can such atrocities be committed in the name of victory? For peace? Did you know that Lee tried to attack Washington last month? Now, Sherman’s been given the same orders to leave nothing behind for the Rebels’ use. Not just businesses, railroads, and armories! Everything, Lizzie: food, shelter, medicines, crops. Between Sheridan and Sherman, half of the South will be destroyed. When the war’s over, the suffering will continue for years.”

  “Then let’s do our best to help end the war before more destruction is carried out,” Elizabeth suggested calmly.

  “How can we get the Confederacy to fold?” she asked skeptically.

  “Shannon, don’t turn against us,” she beseeched worriedly. “You must remember whose side we’re on, who’s in the right. The South initiated the hostilities. Your brother is languishing in a Rebel prison, not a Federal one. War is a costly, grim business.”

  “Do you know where Steve was going?”

  “He didn’t say, deary.”

  “When did he say he would return for me?”

  Elizabeth replied shockingly, “In a week or so.”

  Shannon stared at her. Blane had told her a few days. How dare he take off without telling her anything, especially the truth! “I’m heading for Danville as soon as President Davis sends my pass. If and when Steven returns, tell him I couldn’t wait a week or so.”

  “You can’t get inside a prison. It’s too risky, Shannon.”

  “I have to get going before my path is cut off, Lizzie. I got from Boston to Washington alone. I’ll tell them I’m a nurse. I’m going.”

  “Then don’t carry any papers except your pass. Whatever you see or hear, commit it to memory. I’ll give you some names of friends. And I’ll see if I can prepare you a medical bag for deception.”

  Shannon smiled. “Thanks, Lizzie. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Shannon’s pass arrived the next morning, giving her safe conduct across Confederate lines. If she were caught by Yankees, she could say she had tricked the Rebels into giving her the pass. As Elizabeth said, if she wasn’t carrying any incriminating papers, what could they do to her?

  She packed the garments Elizabeth offered for her disguise and tried to rest before her departure at dawn. Shannon was drowsing when Blane’s voice rent the silence of her room and thoughts.

  “What’s this nonsense about your leaving in the morning?”

  “Not nonsense, Steven James, but fact. I didn’t come all this way to sit in a comfortable house while you do all the work. I have a pass.”

  “I know. It was crazy to go see Davis. You agreed to follow my orders, not Lizzie’s or others’. But you did achieve a small victory. Your information gave me the idea of planting false news in the Northern papers to mislead the Rebs. Sometimes your impulsiveness outweighs your brains, woman. I can’t believe you were leaving in the morning.”

  Just to provoke him, Shannon remarked seductively, “Actually, I was coming to look for you. After spending so many days and nights with you, I was missing my errant partner. You grow on a person, Mr. James.”

  Blane seized her shoulders and yanked her into his arms. He challenged, “Then show me how much you missed me.” His mouth closed over hers fiercely as he lowered himself and her to the bed.

  At first, Shannon wanted to fight him. The emotional battle lines had been drawn, and she knew he smugly believed he could conquer her. It was to him a matter of pride and subtle punishment. Yet she quelled her resistance and surrendered to his kisses and caresses. She wanted them and took delight in them, even if she did mistrust him. She had an uneasy feeling she was being manipulated and deluded by this beguiling rogue.

  Turning her head to the side, Shannon gasped out, “I’m your partner, remember? We share the mission or we go our separate ways. Stop being so bossy and overprotective.”

  “What did you tell Davis yesterday?” he asked. Damn this female for stealing his peace of mind and rigid self-control. He constantly had to tread gingerly on this unfamiliar ground. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Why was she tempting and taunting him? Didn’t she realize he wasn’t made of stone? Was she trying to enchant him into carrying out her wishes before the Union’s? Or was she using him to unmask Yankee spies and their linking system? She hadn’t related any unknown facts to Elizabeth, but she had gotten a travel pass quickly and easily. Had she hoped to leave before his return—leave with the names and locations of Union sympathizers? How could she look and sound so innocent? He needed to probe her story promptly and there was only one place and one person who could supply the truth.

  Shannon retorted, “Tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve done, then I’ll answer. Some partner you are, keeping secrets and vanishing for days. What if I had nee
ded you?”

  Blane stiffened in anger and vexation when she questioned him. Should he trust her? Could she be genuine? He pulled free of Shannon and stood up beside the bed. His fists were clenched, as were his teeth. His voice and expression warned Shannon of his fury and tension. “I’m heading for Lynchburg at dawn. It’s about fifty miles north of Danville. I have to go to both places. There’s a field hospital at Lynchburg; you could work there until I return with news from Danville Prison. It’s too risky for you to waltz into a holding pen and have Corry blow our covers when he spots you. I’ll find a way to get a look at the prison roll. You’ll be of more use at the hospital anyway. Wounded men talk to a pretty face and gentle hands. If you want to tag along under my terms, fine; if not, good luck on your own.”

  As Blane was stalking to the door, Shannon called out, “Wait. I’m coming with you.” Inwardly she mused that Blane possessed the strength and charm to seduce her, yet he had stopped and waxed so antagonistic. What was the matter with him? He treated her like a dread disease, one he had rashly but willingly contracted, then fearfully battled. Why did Blane keep enticing her, then pushing her away? Did it have to do with a woman left behind in Texas? With the new wedding band he carried? Was he using her to test his love and commitment to another female, or was Blane simply misleading her because he wanted to bed her?

  “Meet me out back at six,” he said over his shoulder, then left.

  Bittersweet longing filled her. She was becoming too involved. She wanted to know the truth about the ring and the man, but she was afraid to ask about either. As long as she didn’t know his marital status, she could respond to him. If he was merely betrothed and she didn’t know that fact, she could justify her shameless enticement. Would it change anything if she learned he was unhappily wed? she wondered. Yes, married was married. Why did Blane have to give her such a difficult time? Couldn’t he tell she was willing to make love to him? Damn him for teasing her and taunting her!

  They had traveled for four days when they came upon a Rebel encampment near the small town of Farmville. They had been walking the horses for a breather, and Shannon had been asking him questions that had cost him his attention. Before Blane perceived their danger, they were surrounded by three scruffy sentries. He pulled Shannon close to him and glared at the hostile soldiers in tattered gray uniforms.

  “I want to speak with your camp commander,” Blane stated smugly. “I’m Steven James of New Orleans. I work for President Davis.”

  “Why ain’t you in uniform fighting like the rest of us?” one asked.

  “Yeh, riding around all clean and fed like some dandy Yank.”

  “Even got his own woman. I ain’t had me no woman for…I can’t recall how long,” the third asserted sullenly.

  “We have vital business in this area. This is my wife, so kindly treat her with respect. Take us to your camp,” Blane demanded.

  “No man ain’t got no wife like this. Ain’t she pretty, Jed?”

  “I’m Shannon Greenleaf James, daughter of the late Andrew Greenleaf of Savannah. I have a travel pass from President Davis himself. Let us continue, or you’ll be sorry,” Shannon inserted angrily.

  “She’s got a tongue on ’er,” the second man teased merrily.

  “She could be speaking this side of the truth, Henry.”

  “Let me see your special pass,” John ordered, ribbing his friend.

  “I’ll show it to your camp commander,” Shannon replied, her anger increasing her courage and determination.

  A captain rode up and questioned the curious situation. Blane related the problem. The officer reprimanded the three soldiers, then escorted Blane and Shannon to camp. The commanding officer insisted on seeing them immediately.

  “Major Benjamin Clifford,” he introduced himself.

  Blane repeated his and Shannon’s false identities. “I have some matters to scout for President Davis near Appomattox and Lynchburg. Word is Sheridan is heading this way and Sherman’s footing it toward Georgia. And that ain’t the end of it. Grant’s trying his damnedest to move in from the east. Looks like this whole area might be surrounded by Yanks within the month, so Davis wants to see if and how we can set up a defense line. My wife is a nurse; she plans to work in the hospital in Lynchburg until I complete my scouting.”

  Clifford glanced up from the papers in his hands. “Seems you two have clearances to go where you please. Why’d you bring her along?”

  “The Yanks burned our home, and I haven’t found a safe place for her to stay. Every town we visit has just been attacked or is about to be attacked. She’s a brave and smart filly. She’s as safe with me as anywhere. I thought she could help and rest while I get this assignment done quickly. I need to report back to Davis in Richmond in two weeks.”

  The officer glanced at Shannon as if mildly charmed by her, his brown eyes lingering a moment on her fiery hair, then on her blue eyes. “We can sure use another nurse in our field hospital here. We get wounded from all four directions. Besides, ain’t no use to take your wife to Lynchburg; they moved that hospital to Danville a few weeks past. Since you got to pass this way again, I can find a place for Mrs. James to stay until you return. She’ll be under my protection. I’ll show her around myself tomorrow.”

  Blane was relieved when Shannon didn’t openly react to the news about Danville. “Thank you, Major Clifford. Time’s precious right now.”

  “Captain Smith, show Mister James that new map we prepared. Holders of territory change everyday. We don’t want you walking into no den of Yanks. Your wife can wait here and have a cup of tea. Smith, get the Jameses a few supplies. It’s nearing supper time.”

  A curious feeling washed over Blane. He couldn’t refuse the Major’s suggestions and assistance without appearing suspicious and he hoped Shannon knew what to say to protect their lives. He followed Smith to a nearby tent. He studied the map, noting several errors. Were they intentional? Entrapping? He glanced toward the vanishing sun. Five o’clock—too early to sneak away. They would have to stand and bluff.

  The captain who had shown them to camp escorted them to a small house that had been taken from Yankee sympathizers. Smith placed a few supplies on the table, tipped his cap, and left.

  Blane looked at Shannon. “I don’t like this, Flame.”

  “Like what?” she inquired, focusing innocent blue eyes on him.

  “Leaving you here with these scruffy Rebs. You will be careful?” He had waited for Shannon to insist on going with him, especially to Danville. Now that she knew the hospital had been moved there, it surprised him that she didn’t. She seemed willing to remain behind in this Rebel camp. A refined Southern lady should be appalled to stay here alone, he reflected. She had been furious the last time he had left her behind. Why relent so soon? Did she have plans to sneak off to Danville the moment he was gone?

  Shannon was waiting for Blane to suggest or insist she go along with him. Maybe he wanted to check out the Danville area before taking her there. Maybe he wanted and needed some breathing distance from her. The physical attraction between them did seem to alarm him. She knew she mustn’t press him or aggravate him. He had promised to help with Corry, and he had gotten her this close without trouble. His concern was touching. “You worry too much. We’ve done just fine so far. How long do you think your trip will take?”

  “I hope less than ten days. Have you ever done any nursing?”

  Shannon chuckled. “As the only female in a family with four active males? Hours and hours of nursing, Mister James. These Rebs would suspect Davis of treachery before casting curious eyes on me.”

  “What did the major have to say while I was studying his maps?” Blane wondered if he was mistaken about the Rebel’s reaction to her. Had the officer recognized her? Maybe he was being too wary, too sensitive where she was concerned. Yet he didn’t tell her that the maps were false or even hint at Clifford’s strange manner.

  “You’re lucky I’ve been to New Orleans several times, since you cla
imed it as our home. I covered for us very nicely, thank you. He did seem intrigued that my maiden name is on my travel pass. I explained about President Davis’s friendship with my father, and I told him Mister Davis still considered me Andrew’s little girl. By the way, I told him we’ve been married since June tenth of ’62. The name of your firm is James Shipping, Limited. We have no children.”

  “Anything else?” he probed anxiously.

  “I didn’t give him time. I asked about his family and home.”

  “Smart girl,” he murmured, flashing her a stirring smile.

  Shannon and Blane worked together to prepare their meal. They ate it in near silence, each contemplating the other. When the dishes were washed, Blane drew bucket after bucket of water for her from the well near the back door. Shannon heated enough water to take a refreshing bath with scented soap and to wash her hair.

  Blane stood in the shadows of the small house and scrubbed his hair and body, rinsing with a bucket of cool water. Afterward, he strolled around, allowing Shannon time to complete her task. He hadn’t missed her remark about “four active males.” Who was the fourth man? If there was another brother, why had she kept it a secret? A lover? A huband? That carelessly dropped clue added another suspicion about her motives. Perhaps it wasn’t Corry sitting in Danville Prison…

  At nine-thirty, Major Clifford joined him. “Glad you’re still up and around, James. I have a small unit heading for Appomattox under the cover of darkness. If you ain’t got any objections, it would be safer for you to travel with them. They plan to head out around ten.”

  When Blane entered the house and locked the door, he found Shannon curled on the bed, dozing. Her damp hair had been braided to avoid tangles during the night. She had rolled to one side and had tossed back the cover in an inviting manner. Blane came forward and sat down. It was perilous to look at her or to speak with her in the light. He doused the lantern and lay beside her. For a time, he listened to her breathing, which revealed her deepening slumber. He couldn’t take off without telling her, but he had to go. What if he didn’t make it back into her life again? What was the truth about Shannon Greenleaf?

 

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