Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  Shannon lifted her head and looked into his eyes. They were soft and yellowy green. His expression was serious, compassionate. A breeze was ruffling his tawny hair and teasing wisps of it against his forehead. His face was dirty. Her heart increased its pace and her skin tingled. She swallowed and snuffled. “I know taking off like that was a stupid thing. I deserved getting shot. I don’t mean to be so impetuous and pigheaded. Get the things and I’ll bandage your leg.”

  Blane smiled at her as he wiped away her tears. “You can also be very brave and smart, Shannon Greenleaf.” He kissed the tip of her nose. Then, after fetching the necessary items, he sat down.

  Shannon pushed up his torn pants leg and placed a splint on either side. “Hold this,” she instructed, then began to wind the cloth around his leg. She noticed how brown and muscular his calf was and felt slightly wicked touching him. He handed her several bloody strips, which he had saved from this morning. She tied those around the clean cloth. Then she removed her arm bandage and placed it on his left arm. She eyed him and smiled. “Two head wounds might look suspicious. And with an injured leg and arm, you couldn’t be expected to fight.”

  Shannon packed up while Blane saddled Dan. He lifted himself into place, then extended his hand to her. Shannon grasped it, but to her surprise, Blane sat her before him and proceeded to kiss her passionately and urgently. Then, without a word, he lifted her again and swung her around behind him. Drawing her arms about his waist, he kneed Dan into a steady gallop.

  Shannon pondered his strange action. What an unpredictable man! She.could feel his muscles working beneath his shirt. It felt wonderful to be riding so close to Blane, she reflected as she rested her face against him.

  They encountered two groups of soldiers, both heading north. Neither questioned, nor appeared to doubt, their story or wounds. They learned that Davis and Lee had requested that all available men head their way to help defeat the ever-advancing Yankees. The dejection and disillusionment could be read in the soldiers’ faces and their postures. It seemed that everyone was ready for this war to end, but no one knew how to accomplish that feat with pride and without enormous losses.

  Blane wearily told the first group, “It’s bad east and south of Richmond. It’s looking bad for us everywhere. Hood’s being run ragged in Tennessee. If we don’t get more supplies and money from somewhere, them Yanks are gonna lick us. President Davis told me to get my sister away from Fredericksburg. He’s expecting another attack there. How’s it look down home way near Charleston?”

  The gray-clad officer replied, “As far as I know, son, we’re still holding both Carolina coasts. I been hearing rumors them Yanks are gonna strike out at South Carolina and Georgia; they’re Confederate strongholds. You and your sister be mighty careful riding that way.”

  Just before they met the next group of Rebels, Shannon asked, “Why did you say Charleston? You changed our story. I could have made a mistake.”

  “We’ve lost time, Flame. If anybody’s trailing us, I hope they take my bait and head away from Wilmington. You did just fine.”

  During their second encounter with Rebel troops, the colonel in charge asked Blane sternly, “Why ain’t you with your unit, Greenleaf?”

  “A man can’t fight with a cracked leg and sliced arm, sir. I have orders from President Davis to take Shannon home. She’s been nursing our men for two years, and she’s been wounded twice. The President said I could mend while getting her away from the battleground.” Blane showed the vexed officer Shannon’s letter. He claimed his orders had been stolen along with most of their possessions when they were attacked by Rebel deserters. “They shot her horse right from under her.”

  The balding colonel studied the pale, dirty woman. He reached over and yanked the bandage from her head, startling her and Blane. The man stared at the wound as if surprised it was there.

  Blane snatched the bloody cloth from the colonel’s hand. “Sir, if I were not injured and this were not war, I would be forced to challenge you in defense of my family honor. Rest assured, our President will learn of this outrageous offense. Touch my sister again, and I shall forget you are a high-ranking officer of the Confederacy.”

  Blane shifted her from behind him to before him. He tenderly replaced the bandage and inquired about her condition. Shannon told him she was fine. She focused fiery blue eyes on the colonel. “You are a dishonor to your rank and country, sir, a dishonor to your name and family. I can promise you this matter will be reported the moment we reach Charleston. I shall request that President Davis strip you of your rank. If the distance between us did not prevent it, I would slap your miserable face. Were my father alive, you would pay dearly for this insult. My family has fought valiantly and unselfishly during this war. How dare you question a Greenleaf’s word or honor!”

  Shannon called out to his men, “Hear me, proud Confederate soldiers. Beware of a leader of such low stature, a man who attacks injured women, who doubts the word of our noble President. Beware of a leader who wastes time assailing wounded Southerners when our side is swiftly losing this wretched conflict. A man without honor is a dangerous man. You, sir, make me feel ill. Let’s go home, Corry, and waste no more time and strength on this beast.”

  The flustered colonel watched the two ride away, berating himself for his foolish behavior. Shannon’s wound had convinced him of their honesty. He glanced at the soldiers nearby, who were looking at him with contempt and disrespect in their eyes. He shouted at them, “I suspected them to be Yankee spies. You men forget this silly affair.”

  Miles down the road, Shannon exhaled loudly. “That was close. Maybe my recklessness this morning saved our lives.”

  Blane chuckled, then concurred, “Perhaps destiny compelled you to take off like that. You were great back there, sister.”

  Shannon leaned away from his chest and smiled at him. “I’m glad I can finally do something right, brother. Have I earned a pardon?”

  “You’ve also earned this.” Blane bent forward and kissed her.

  When their lips parted, Shannon laughed. “What if we had met another band of Rebels? How would you have explained such behavior?”

  He nuzzled her cheek and sighed dreamily. Tapping her ring finger, he said, “I quickly would have used our husband/wife story.”

  “Always a crafty answer for everything,” she teased. “Your intelligence and alertness astound me. I couldn’t have a better partner.”

  Blane smiled. “I’m glad you appreciate me, Mrs. James.”

  “I appreciate you, and you appreciate me, and we both appreciate the Union. Does that make us even for awhile?” She laughed, suddenly feeling cheerful and serene.

  Blane observed her sunny mood. “I suppose it does.”

  Shannon didn’t ask to ride behind him. And when she nestled against his chest, he didn’t suggest it. Instead, he dropped a kiss atop her head, briefly tightening his embrace. Lord, she fit nicely in his arms, he reflected, admiring the way the sun on her head brought her hair to fiery life. He was inordinately pleased that she seemed so totally relaxed.

  Just before dusk, Blane left the road and entered the trees to their right. He guided Dan along until he found a spot that appealed to him. “I want you to hide in those bushes over there. I need to scout around to make sure we won’t be camping near any Rebels.”

  As Shannon slid to the ground, she coaxed, “Be careful.”

  Once she was hidden, he rode into the trees. In less than an hour he returned, smiling and reporting that the area around them was clear.

  Blane handed her two apples, then grinned at her surprise. “I found a tree on an old farm. Everything else had been burned or stolen. You might like this better,” he hinted, offering her salted ham that had been fried and stuffed inside a cold biscuit.

  Shannon laughed. “You were hiding this,” she softly accused.

  “Yep. I thought it would be better for supper. I considered hunting for a rabbit or deer, but the smell of roasting would carry too far. This�
�ll have to do for now, Flame. When we reach Fayetteville, I’ll get you a proper meal if I have to steal it.”

  Shannon laughed again. “Your honesty astounds me, sir. You had best take this, brother,” she suggested, handing him the ring.

  They consumed the meager meal slowly. Then Blane spread the blanket and told her to get some sleep. Shannon stretched out and flexed her body as she gazed at the stars and the clear sky overhead. She felt calm and safe with Blane, and strangely closer to him. Her eyelids began to droop, and soon she was asleep.

  Blane joined her, feeling it was safe to do so. His actions were almost an imitation of hers. After watching her for a time, he turned his back, knowing it was the only way he would ever get to sleep.

  When morning came, they breakfasted on more apples and biscuits washed down with water. Shannon didn’t complain, and soon they were on their way again. They rode for hours, passing stragglers every so often. So many people had lost so much that they didn’t know where to go; they just seemed to have a need to move on in search of peace and safety.

  In what seemed a stroke of good luck, they met a generous Rebel colonel who provided Blane and Shannon with a hot meal. The officer was eager for information from any area of fighting. He found Shannon’s beauty and conversation pleasurable, and delayed his journey to enjoy them.

  When Shannon and Blane were asked to spend the night in his camp, Blane accepted for Shannon’s benefit. He knew she could use some rest and good food. To repay the officer’s kindness, Shannon talked and visited in his tent until she could hardly keep her eyes open.

  Blane finally put his arm around her and said, “It’s time for you to turn in, Shanny. Thank you for your hospitality, sir. My sister and I deeply appreciate it. This trip home has been hard on her. And I ain’t much use all busted up like this.”

  In the tent to which they were assigned, Shannon slept on her bedroll and Blane slept on his. The end flap had to be left open for fresh air, for the early October nights were still warm.

  Afraid of being overheard, they talked little, though at one point Shannon whispered across the short distance between them, “Are you ever scared? I mean, really scared? Scared you won’t survive this war, at least uninjured? Scared you might lose everyone and everything you love?”

  “Give me your hand, Shannon,” he ordered softly, reaching out for it. When she extended her arm toward him, he gently grasped her hand and squeezed it. He rested their clasped hands on the ground, then coaxed, “You have me to protect you. You won’t ever be alone; and you can have me as long as you need me. But don’t stop being afraid, Shannon; it makes a person more careful and alert. There’s nothing wrong with being afraid, just with being a coward—with being too scared or too hurt to pick up the pieces and start over again. Don’t ever let that happen to you. Go to sleep. I’ll be right here guarding you.”

  Shannon was troubled and bewildered by his words. She had perceived the anguish that surrounded his statements, and his pain touched her deeply. She wanted to roll into his arms and comfort him. Yet, she instinctively knew not to press him tonight. She briefly tightened her fingers over his hand. As if deciding his hand might be heavy, he shifted his grasp to place his on the bottom against the dirt. His thumb rhythmically stroked the back of her hand. It was amazing how wonderful and stirring that simple contact felt. Shannon confessed quietly, “Sometimes I’m afraid of you, but I’m never afraid with you.”

  Blane lifted his head and looked over at her, noting that her respiration pattern had altered. She didn’t turn his way, but continued to stare above her as he whispered, “Then we’re almost even. Sometimes I’m afraid for you…and of you. Go to sleep. It’s dangerous to talk here.”

  When noises awakened her, she sat up to find Blane missing. As she moved to stand beside the tent and look around for him, she spoke politely and genially with soldiers passing by. The commanding officer walked over, smiled, and offered her a morning meal.

  “Where is my brother, sir?” she asked, trying not to show fear.

  “He went hunting with several of my men. Insisted on paying for your food and care somehow. Said he didn’t need a healthy leg to shoot. You got yourself a good brother, Miss Greenleaf. Makes me proud and happy to see a fellow take such good care of his family.”

  When Shannon told him about the offensive incident on the road yesterday, the man puffed up with anger. She continued, “If you have a doctor or medical officer, I would like him to look at the wound. I’m sure it isn’t anything serious, but one never knows about infection.”

  When their meal was over, the Confederate colonel sent for a private who knew a great deal about doctoring. The young man was only too pleased to check her injury. His smile faded when he heard how she had received it, as did the commanding officer’s.

  “Keep it clean and covered, miss. Try to change the bandage every five or six days. It should heal nicely, but you might have a tiny scar there. You think I should look at your brother’s leg?”

  “He was checked recently. The doctor told him to leave it be for another three or four weeks.” When the private left, she turned to the officer in charge and said, “Thank you for your help and concern, Colonel Smith.” She sent him one of her most radiant and innocent smiles.

  Blane and the others returned from a successful hunt to find Shannon laughing and chatting privately with Smith. They had acquired enough meat to provide strength and to fill bellies. Blane accepted a bundle of food for their next meal, along with the name of a family who would give them shelter during their stop in Fayetteville. The officer also gave Shannon a blanket to ward off the chilly nights, which he said were approaching fast. For the first time she felt guilty, for she knew many soldiers were in need of such items.

  They were also given a letter of protection from Colonel William Smith, which they soon had to use when they met a doubting Southern officer. The man read both letters, eyed the young couple, then allowed them to pass. Blane could feel the man’s sharp eyes piercing their backs. He scolded himself for not questioning or suspecting a curious mark that he had noticed at the top of the page. Was it a code? he wondered. Prepared to be chased, he didn’t relax for ten miles.

  In Fayetteville, Blane didn’t go to the house suggested by Smith. Instead, he made his way east of the town to a small plantation, then dismounted near a gradually collapsing shed. As he cut off the false splint to facilitate his movement, Blane told Shannon, “Stay here with Dan and wait for my return. I need to look around before we approach the house. If you hear any gunshots or shouts, you mount up and ride like hell out of here. Understand?”

  Yes, she understood clearly. It seemed to her she was always telling him to be careful, but she did so again. She feared that one day soon he would be cautious, but that it wouldn’t matter. At present, they were in the heart of the Confederacy, and she didn’t feel at home. She despised what was happening to her beloved country and people. As usual, she watched and waited in dread. She tried not to think about other dangers, such as nocturnal wild animals or snakes. Darkness surrounded her, for only a thin slice of moon hung in the sky.

  Blane eventually made his way around the area that enclosed the house and barns. Sighting or hearing no indication of another’s presence, he walked to the house, knocked, and was invited inside.

  He came back for her over an hour later. Blane was amused and warmed when Shannon hugged him fiercely. “By the way,” he told her, “at this stop you’re my new wife. Just play along with whatever I say.” He caught her left hand and pushed the gold wedding band in place.

  Shannon followed Blane and Dan to the back porch, where an older man and woman were standing with a candle. The amber-haired Texan passed Dan’s reins to the man and smiled at the woman. He captured Shannon’s hand in his and drew her close. She pondered his mellow gaze and gentle behavior and questioned his impending deceit. Every time he slipped that ring on her finger, she wondered if some jealous ghost were going to strike her dead. How long would it be bef
ore he liked and trusted her enough to explain it? If she were lucky, maybe he hadn’t used it yet. And if she could manage it, she wanted it to belong to her one day! She carefully observed all three people in the flickering candlelight.

  Blane’s smooth voice asserted calmly, “Mrs. Thomas, Joseph, this is my wife, Shannon. I just captured her. Believe me, it was long and hard work winning this beauty away from countless admirers. Things are so bad all over. Too many soldiers and dangers. I couldn’t leave the new Mrs. Blane Stevens behind. I guess you can see why,” he remarked proudly, clasping Shannon to his chest and kissing her forehead to conceal her look of astonishment at the name he had used.

  “Shannon, this is Mary and Joseph Thomas, my good friends. They make sure the Rebs don’t find me when I’m working this area. They’ll feed us and hide us for the night. You have them to thank for keeping me alive plenty of times,” Blane informed her.

  Shannon smiled and greeted the two people cordially. “I hope you don’t mind our sudden arrival, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas. I know this work is dangerous for you.”

  “Joseph, you get Blane’s horse tended while I take these tired folks inside and feed ’em proper,” the woman said, taking command. “You look like you both could use a warm bath, hot food, and lots of sleep,” the woman who appeared to be in her fifties surmised.

  “They all sound marvelous,” Shannon replied. “Thank you.”

  “We best get crackin’. Those Rebels have a way of showing up unexpectedly. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve searched the house and barns. Knowing you, Blane, you’ve already scouted the area.”

  He grinned and nodded. “It’s clear for now.”

  “What if they come around during the night?” Shannon asked. “How will you explain us? What if they try to confiscate Dan and enlist Blane?”

  The woman laughed merrily. “Not to fear, child. No evil can harm you under our roof. God protects us and our cause.”