Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  He gently shook the lovely creature beside him. “Shannon…”

  Shannon turned and snuggled up to him, her left hand falling gently across his bare chest. When he murmured her name again, she sighed dreamily and mumbled a few unintelligible words and one he was able to decipher—“Hawke.”

  The name seared through his mind. Rage mounted swiftly within his taut body. Time was short, too short. He placed his lips at her ear and whispered softly, “Where’s Hawke, love?”

  “Gone…I’ll find…him. Save him,” she muttered dreamily as images of Hawke and Corry flickered in her groggy head.

  Blane shook her almost roughly, calling sharply, “Shannon! Wake up! I have to leave in a few minutes.”

  “Leave?” she echoed, trying to arouse herself.

  Blane related the details of Clifford’s visit. “I have to go or it will look suspicious.”

  “You can’t leave tonight,” she argued in panic.

  He turned his head and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” she replied softly. Was he blind or naïve? And how could Andrew Greenleaf’s daughter lie here in bed with a near stranger and even consider making love to him! It was crazy! It was wanton! Let him go! she told herself. Maybe he would miss her, learn to appreciate her!

  “Would you come a little closer,” he asked, “I can’t hear you.”

  Shannon grimaced in the darkness, chiding herself. She shifted her body until their sides touched. “How’s that, Mister James?”

  “How’s this, Mrs. James?” he countered, turning and pulling her into his arms. His lips brushed her hair, her cheek, then her mouth.

  Shannon nestled against him and returned the kiss. What if he didn’t return? What if he were killed or taken prisoner? “Blane, is there a special woman in your life?” she asked nervously, uncontrollably.

  “Just my partner,” he responded, then kissed her again, thinking only of how much he wanted to rip off her gown and make passionate love to her.

  His hand tentatively cupped a breast. He waited for Shannon to stop him. When she didn’t, his mouth fused hungrily to hers. His fingertips circled the swiftly rising peak and he was thrilled and encouraged by its eagerness. His body felt as if someone had placed a torch to it. Lord, she was an irresistible temptress. She was driving him wild with her feverish responses. Damn Fate for intruding tonight!

  When he knew his control and wits were slipping away rapidly, he told her between gasps for air, “I want you, Shannon, but there isn’t time tonight. We’ll have to wait for the right place and moment.” He knew there was enough time for him to thrust into her urgently and sate his carnal desires, but not enough time to make love to her as he wanted it to be during their first time together. For some inexplicable and irrational reason, he couldn’t bring himself to use her merely for physical release. No, he wanted to take her leisurely, sensuously, tenderly, thoroughly, and without interruption. He wanted to see, feel, taste, hear, smell, and enjoy the entire, lengthy experience. He was certain that when he possessed this woman, it would be a staggering, unforgettable experience. “If you feel otherwise, tell me right now, and when I return, I’ll know to keep my distance.”

  “I want you too, Blane,” she stated simply and truthfully.

  Chapter Four

  Shannon had difficulty getting to sleep after Blane’s departure, which came immediately after her wanton admission. She silently prayed for his safe and hasty return. She also prayed the sensual extraction of her confession had not been a cruel ruse or an impulsive action during a moment of torrid weakness. She would have to learn to control her wild craving for him until she was certain he was free and felt the same way about her. What could be worse than falling in love with a man who belonged to another woman, or falling in love with a man only to lose him to death or to his fear of surrender, unless it was falling prey to a devious charmer who wanted nothing more than sex!

  That couldn’t be true of Blane, she reasoned, for he could have taken her plenty of times. His rigid control and reluctance baffled her. Maybe he didn’t care deeply about her and knew it would be wrong to claim her falsely. Maybe she was doing or saying something to repel him. Maybe he didn’t like inexperienced virgins or feared they offered trouble and strings. Maybe there was something in his past that plagued and halted him. So many “maybes” plagued her mind that she couldn’t sleep. How she wished this war weren’t going on so she could get to know him. Her body warmed anew as she recalled their parting moments.

  The following morning, Shannon dressed, took her medical bag, and reported to the doctor on duty. She talked until her throat felt parched. She bathed faces and hands until she was weary. She changed bandages until she wanted to scream or retch. She fed men too weak to help themselves. She listened to heartrending tales of death and destruction. She remained ever alert for the names of friends.

  It didn’t take long for her to realize that medical supplies were as low as military and food supplies. She knew the doctors were using her as a distraction for a lack of proper anesthesia. Most men were too proud to show pain before this angel tending them. As the day passed, Shannon noticed many four-wheeled ambulances arriving and camping nearby, though few of their folding bunks held wounded men.

  Almost too exhausted to eat, she snacked quickly, bathed, and went to bed. She didn’t care if Major Benjamin Clifford had requested her presence for dinner. All she needed and wanted was sleep.

  When Shannon reached the field hospital the second morning, she discovered a curious and distressing fact; the ambulances were loading the injured soldiers to transport them to the newly established Confederate hospital near Danville. They would leave within two hours, and Shannon had been ordered to accompany them.

  Shannon hurriedly sought the major and anxiously questioned him. “When we arrived, sir, we were not told you would be dismantling the camp and leaving today. What’s going on?”

  Clifford removed his hat. “The Yankees are advancing on us, Ma’am. Surely you realize we cannot leave you behind. To capture a beauty like you would give the Yanks a priceless war trophy.” When Shannon glared at him, he halted his curious words and tried to mask his devouring look. Frowning, he insisted, “Only a joke, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I am rather busy. You’re to ride in one of the wagons with the doctors. I suggest you get packed and ready to leave,” he advised sternly.

  “This is so sudden. What about my husband? You’ll have to send word to him. Where are the Yankees now?” she inquired in dread.

  A satanic gleam filled his eyes as he calmly informed her, “I’m afraid Mister James is heading straight for their line. Unfortunately the Yanks shifted their route after he studied our maps. Hopefully he and my men will have enough sense to be on the alert and escape. He can catch up with you in Danville. I’ll see you get shelter, food, and safety.”

  Shannon looked at the grisly soldier before her. Today his uniform was dirty and rumpled. He smelled of black coffee, dust, and malodorous cigars. His brown hair hadn’t been combed or washed. Thick brows rested like fuzzy caterpillars over his dingy green eyes and this morning’s stubble hadn’t been removed from his face.

  As if anticipating her doubts, Clifford watched her intently. Shannon had the impression she couldn’t trust this man. Far worse, she had the alarming feeling that he had sent Blane in that perilous direction on purpose. She sensed that if she tried to flee, the major would have her pursued and returned. She had no idea where Blane had gone. Danville was her only choice, and not a bad one. She absently toyed with the gold band on her finger.

  Clifford patted her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, ma’am. He seems like a smart ‘n’ brave man, and he shore has reason to return.”

  The large hand on her shoulder was clammy and offensive, as was the man’s tone. Shannon wondered at the strange look in Clifford’s eye and his curious air of smugness. Surely she was safe; she was surrounded by men. She dismissed her qualms and returned to work.

  The jou
rney to Danville required seven days. Shannon was anxious for even a few hours’ privacy and quiet. She had written countless letters for ailing men, letters she knew would never be delivered but that gave dying or ailing men hope and joy. She heard cries of pain and moans of misery. After sleeping on one of the ambulance bunks for six nights, she wondered how severely wounded men could survive such a terrible ordeal. She learned that some did not. Occasionally on the bumpy trail, they had been forced to halt for emergency surgery or to ease the agony of the men being bounced around in the wagons. By the last day, her nerves were taut and her body was pleading for relief. Everyone was delighted to reach Danville.

  Upon her arrival, Shannon was kept busy until midnight helping the doctors and other nurses to get the new patients settled and tended. When she was shown to a makeshift sleeping quarters, she didn’t argue. She merely fell on the bunk and went to sleep, without eating.

  For two days Shannon prayed for Blane’s arrival. If he had made it back to Farmville, then he knew where to look for her. What if his mission had taken him elsewhere? What if they wouldn’t see each other again? What if he were glad to be rid of the responsibility of her? What if Major Clifford continued to observe her so closely and frequently?

  Shannon discovered the location of Danville Prison for Federal soldiers. She heard that local Union sympathizers carried food and clothing to the soldiers. To make contact with them could expose her, and she knew she would have to find a clever way to get to the prison. It thrilled her soul to think that Corry was so close. Yet she found herself praying he wouldn’t be in that awful “stink hole” a few miles away.

  Corbett Greenleaf…Shannon closed her eyes and called forth his image: Standing five feet eleven, Corry had a well-developed frame covered with light golden flesh. His chestnut brown hair was usually brushed back over his ears to reveal short sideburns. It fell into a natural part just slightly off center and curled impishly at the nape of his neck. His upper lip was thin, but the lower one was full, giving him what the girls called a “kissable mouth.” When he smiled, which was most of the time, deep creases appeared from his nose to a little below the corners of his mouth and tiny creases could also be seen near his slate blue eyes. Corry’s eyes were large and expressive like hers; they sparkled and danced with joie de vivre. The dark brows over them were long and nearly touched above his nose, which was perfect. He was an extremely handsome man with a smile that warmed the soul and a personality that appealed to everyone he met. He could make anyone and everyone laugh. He brightened any room with his sunny spirits…

  A short time later, one of the doctors unknowingly aided her when he told Shannon he was going to check on the prisoners’ health and living conditions. She instantly asked to accompany him. When he tried to refuse her, Shannon lowered her head as if in shame and told him, “Sir, I fear one of my brothers was persuaded to fight with the Yankees. I was told he’s being held in prison here. If I could just go along and make sure he’s all right, I’ll be very grateful.”

  The doctor had seen many such cases of divided loyalties. He knew how hard this beautiful and gentle woman had labored with the Rebel wounded. She carried a letter of protection from President Davis himself. Why should he doubt her word or loyalty?

  “I would appreciate it if you don’t mention this to the others, sir. With so much suffering and killing, they might not understand or accept my position. Major Clifford is already behaving strangely toward me,” she stated candidly. “He makes me uncomfortable.”

  Doctor Harrison Cooper gazed at the delicate female. He was charmed and deceived by her soft manner. He, too, had thought the major’s behavior strange after this woman’s arrival. “Come along. We’ll find your brother, if he’s here. I’ll tell Major Clifford it was my idea to take you along,” he remarked, smiling broadly at her.

  Danville Prison was situated on twenty acres of meadow land, the grassy covering of which had long ago been worn down to bare earth. It was enclosed by a stockade fence of sturdy saplings such as those protecting Western forts. The commandant’s office and residence had been built nearby, as had huts and tents for the guards. The doctor headed in that direction to acquire permission from Lieutenant Colonel Robert Smith to enter the prison. The commandant was unavailable.

  Captain William Hood was astonished by the beautiful woman who entered his office with the intention of helping Doctor Cooper examine the Yankee soldiers. He was far more astounded when she told him she was seeking Corbett Greenleaf of Savannah. Shannon was delighted by Doctor Cooper’s help in this matter. In fact, he had suggested the lie she was about to relate, having assumed her brother would be only too glad to say anything to get out of the filthy prison.

  “You see, Captain Hood, a terrible mistake was made after the battle. Corry had been dressed as a Yankee to penetrate their lines and get information for the Confederacy. He was captured and sent here. I received word of this monstrous error and came as quickly as possible to correct it. You must allow me to see my brother,” she insisted.

  Captain Hood asked for the roll-call register. His gaze slipped over it twice. “No Greenleaf listed here, ma’am.”

  “Maybe he gave a false name to protect the honor of his family, sir. I received a letter from a friend who witnessed the entire affair. I must go inside and look for him. Please, sir. I need your help.” She used every feminine wile she knew to disarm him. Smiling demurely, she reasoned, “How could you doubt my safety when you and your men will be there to protect me?” She dabbed at false tears with a handkerchief the captain had rushed to give her. “Surely such a kind and honorable officer wouldn’t deny my urgent request? It is such a tiny and simple one.” She artfully fluttered her lashes and smiled again. “Why, Captain Hood, if you believe I’m dangerous, you can bind my hands and hold one of those naughty guns on me,” she teased, then giggled. “I’m sure Papa would find some way to reward you later.”

  Utterly charmed, he sighed heavily. “I guess it won’t hurt nothing. Let me fetch some guards. These Yanks are quick and sly.”

  Inside the compound, Shannon dismissed his last words with contempt. These men didn’t have enough energy to be “quick and sly.” Far to the left, a section of the wall overlapped a stream used for fresh water. Ragged tents and rickety shanties filled the enclosed area. Fires burned here and there where food was being prepared. She could tell from the men’s shrunken bodies that food was normally scarce or of low quality.

  As some of the men were too weak to move from certain areas, Shannon and Doctor Cooper walked around with the guards and Captain Hood. Every ten feet or so, Hood would call out Corry’s name. “If you’re about, Greenleaf, answer up. Your sister’s here to see you.”

  The prisoners watched Shannon with keen interest. Hood asked, “What unit was your brother with, ma’am?”

  Shannon knew she couldn’t tell him, so she replied fretfully, “I don’t know, sir. A woman pays little heed to such information. I do know it was after the. Battle of Chancellorsville in May of last year. I was told that those captives were sent here to be confined.”

  The mention of that particular battle gave Hood a chance to boast before the Yankee prisoners. He grinned and declared, “Yep, Chancellorsville was a bloody battle, but a victory for our side. Old Lee whipped Hooker even though he was outnumbered and outgunned. Between Lee and Jackson, they had Hooker running like a dog with his tail twixt his legs. Lee and Grant’ve been dancing up and down the countryside ever since. ’Course, Lee’s smart; he always keeps his troops between Grant and Richmond. From what I been hearing, Grant’s trying his best to take Petersburg. You people best be glad you got outta that area afore Grant and Lee stomped all over it.”

  Shannon appeared distressed by her failure to locate Corbett. If the guards and officer hadn’t been so close to her, she would have tried to question some of the men. Finally she turned to those men forming a small crowd behind her. She had prepared for such an event. Slipping her fingers between the buttons of her dress, s
he pulled out a small Union flag and unfolded it. Glancing at the men to make certain they had noticed it, she carefully pushed it back into its hiding place. She asked, “Did any of you fight at Chancellorsville? Do any of you know Corry, Corbett Greenleaf? You have mothers or sisters or wives who are just as worried about you; please help me. I need to locate him for the President. The war will be over soon, so why does it matter?”

  “Miss?” one of the soldiers called out faintly, comprehending her clues.

  Shannon headed toward him. Hood grabbed her arm. “You can’t go over there, ma’am. These men are nasty and dangerous. Ira, bring that Yank over here,” he ordered, seeing her distress.

  The man was led to her. She smiled and coaxed, “If you know anything about Corry, please tell me.”

  “The camp got too crowded early this year. Some of the prisoners were transferred to a new one in Georgia called Andersonville. If he hasn’t been freed or escaped, this Corbett could be there.”

  Shannon went white and trembled. “But that’s the one all the papers say is so horrible. Surely they wouldn’t send Corry there?” she hinted, trying to pick out the clues in his words.

  “I hope not, miss,” the prisoner agreed. “It isn’t fit for any man, Union or Confederate. I heard lots of ’em escaped on the trail.”

  Shannon smiled and thanked him. When Doctor Cooper completed his look around, they returned to the hospital. She worked at his side until eight that evening, when he insisted she quit for the night and go to the small room that had been assigned to her.

  Another two days passed and Shannon became more and more aware of Clifford’s constant observation. His gaze became so strong and frequent that she could sense it before sighting him. She had not done anything wrong, so he couldn’t harm her, could he? Shannon couldn’t help but recall how Simon Travers had drummed up false charges against her maid, charges that had been accepted by the law. She had to admit that law and justice were not always right or fair. What if someone in Washington or along the trail had betrayed her? What if someone had discovered the truth about Blane or Corry, which would implicate her as an enemy? Something was brewing. Corbett wasn’t here. Blane might never arrive. She wanted to get away from Danville and Major Clifford, but she needed a plan and an opportunity.