Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  “Shannon, is something wrong, love?” he queried gravely.

  She lifted misty eyes to fuse with his troubled ones. “Do you have to leave, Blane? Can’t you stay or take me with you?”

  Her questions surprised him. “It’s important, love. And I want you to stay here where you’re safe. I’ll return shortly. I promise.”

  “Where are you going? What’s so vital?” she probed.

  “I’d rather not discuss it this morning. I’ll tell you when I return.”

  “If you return,” she scoffed. “Why are you suddenly so secretive with me? Have I done something to diminish your trust? I know I said I didn’t want to help, but I do want to know what’s happening. I worry so about you. I wouldn’t even know where to look for you.”

  “You’ll have to trust me, Shannon. You’ll understand later.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll carelessly drop clues in the wrong ears?”

  “No, but this matter is very delicate.”

  “And very dangerous,” she added fretfully.

  “Not for me, love,” he said, trying to appease her fears.

  “You aren’t invincible or immortal, Blane. Can’t you let someone else take this mission? Can’t we forget the war for awhile?”

  “I wish everyone would forget the war, but they won’t, love—not until one side wins. I have to do all I can to make certain the victor is the Union. We can’t have a split country, Shannon. I was an Indian scout, so I have skills most of these agents don’t. I can accomplish more and faster than several of them. Don’t make this harder for me.”

  “Hard for you?” she debated. “I’m involved too, Blane. I can’t stand this waiting and worrying. I have to get home. Please take me.”

  “Is there more to this change of heart and mood than you’re telling me?” he asked, pushing aside his empty plate to listen.

  Shannon sighed heavily. Maybe he was right. Wasn’t he always? Maybe she was feeling guilty for withholding facts from him, about the information she had obtained here and about herself. If he was worried about her, he could be perilously distracted. “I’m sorry. I suppose I sound selfish and cowardly. It’s so damned lonely without you. I worry about you all the time. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Blane.”

  Blane stood and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly and possessively. He almost revealed his love for her, but he feared it might encourage her to beg him to stay. He captured her head between his hands and lifted it. Their gazes locked and he smiled. “There’s no way you’ll ever lose me, Shannon. Give me five days, and we’ll be heading for Greenleaf.”

  Shannon smiled and hugged him. Greenleaf! That was where she would tell him everything about her life and her feelings. There, they would be safe and happy…

  Blane murmured, “I have to leave; it’s getting light outside. Be careful, love. It should be over soon. The South can’t hold out much longer. I’ll get you home; then I’ll find Corry.”

  Blane’s pervasive kiss concealed Shannon’s reaction to the way Blane had voiced her brother’s name and the way he had looked. But as her senses became ensnared, she allowed her concern to slip from her mind.

  Blane dressed hurriedly, then drew her into his embrace again. “Anything else before I leave?” he inquired. “Matti said you had a note from Jeremy for me.”

  “Note from Jeremy?” she repeated, then brightened. “I forgot about it! You do steal my wits at times like this, Major Stevens.”

  Shannon went to the dresser and knelt. She reached under it and fingered around until she located the paper that was wedged there. She smiled as she handed it to him. She jested, “He put it in code so I couldn’t read it. What does it say?” she asked seriously.

  Blane read the note for a second time. Was Jeremy crazy, confused, or mistaken? This message couldn’t be accurate! Shannon couldn’t have betrayed him and those other people. Catherine and the Thomases were dead? Moore had let them escape? Everyone along their path had been exposed? A traitor on his back? In his arms and bed?

  Shannon noted his reaction and dreaded to question it. Was he heading into peril? Had he been unmasked? Were they both in danger? “Blane, what is it? You must stop keeping secrets and answer me!”

  Blane looked up from the paper, which was shaking in his grip. He had to think quickly; he had to lie. “Moore sent out messages about us. We’re lucky, ’eause they’re searching the roads between Charlotte and Richmond. The Union’s suffered a few defeats, but we’ve claimed heavy victories. Sherman’s been ordered to take Columbia and burn it. A lot of the Rebels are changing sides or deserting.”

  Shannon had the oddest feeling that Blane wasn’t telling her the truth, and it hurt her deeply. She was astonished by his next words.

  “My plans have changed. I’m going to see Jeremy, then I’m coming back for you. Be ready to leave in no more than three days.”

  Shannon was tormented by his chilly voice and frozen gaze. What about that “important” and “delicate” mission? Why visit Jeremy? Why flee in a few days? “Can I ask you something?” she inquired, recalling a curious discovery. When Blane nodded, she asked, “Have you seen James Thornton and Major Clifford?”

  Blane looked bewildered by her question. “No, why?”

  “You haven’t slain them? Or ordered them slain?” she asked.

  “What? Get to the point, Shannon,” he commanded brusquely.

  Shannon related what the soldier had told her on the train. She couldn’t understand why Jeremy hadn’t mentioned Pike, as he seemed to know so much about General Moore. “Who would murder them and put the blame on me and this Blade? I don’t even know him.” The moment Shannon made that statement, the truth dawned on her.

  She gaped at Blane. “It’s you, isn’t it?” she stated incredulously.

  “What’s me?” Blane asked coldly. He prayed as he had never prayed before in his life. He prayed Jeremy was wrong. He prayed those two men hadn’t been slain as a ruse to unmask him to her.

  Shannon walked to the fireplace where only a few lowburning coals remained. She stared at it, trying to understand this situation. She turned and looked at Blane. Of course, it all made sense—the mysteries, his scouting skills, his Indian training, his matchless prowess. Her eyes slipped to the ever-present hunting knife that was strapped to his gun belt. If he was as talented with a knife as Hawke was, his code name was appropriate. “You’re the Blade. That’s why you can’t walk away from this business, not even for me, for us. Of course they couldn’t replace you. I should have realized you’re the best, and only the best could be the legendary Blade. Why did you kill them? And, Blane, why put our marks on them? I mean, I’ve heard you always sign your own deeds, by why include me? Why endanger my life and freedom? Do you realize what they would do with me?”

  Either someone was setting them up for his own purposes, or she was the cleverest agent and coldest woman he had ever known. Heaven help them both if the latter were true. Was she too good, too perfect to be real? No, he wouldn’t believe these charges until they were proven. Shannon couldn’t do such things. If she had started out to entrap him, she had dropped that scheme when she had fallen in love with him. Was that it? Her superiors were out to get her for quitting? Had she decided she didn’t want to work for their side, for either side?

  “I didn’t kill any of them, Shannon, but not because I didn’t want to. Evidently someone wanted them dead, so they gave us the credit. Maybe this will all make sense when I talk to Jeremy. Stay in your room while I’m gone. I’ll ask Matti to bring your meals to you. Refuse to see anyone. Claim you’re ill. Understand me, woman?”

  He hadn’t admitted to being the Blade, and he hadn’t denied it. But surely he had insinuated it. Shannon tried not to view him in a different light, but it was inevitable and uncontrollable. The Blade had a reputation for getting his work done any way possible or necessary, and at any cost. She had given him a perfect cover. Who would suspect the solitary fighter of traveling with a woman…

  “
Shannon, do you understand me?” he pressed firmly.

  “Yes, Blane, I think I do,” she replied sadly. If he suspected that someone knew their identities and was entrapping them, why would he leave her alone and in danger? Did she know this man at all?

  “Will you be all right until I return?”

  “Yes, Blane.”

  “Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

  “No, Blane.”

  “Will you wait for me and keep that door locked?”

  “Yes, Blane.”

  He suddenly exploded with vexation. “Yes, Blane! No, Blane! Perdition, woman, this is serious! Stop acting like a wounded rabbit! You’ve known all along there were things I couldn’t tell you. You’re out of it, so stay out of it! I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “And I don’t want you getting hurt,” she replied honestly.

  “Follow my orders, and we’ll both come out of this alive and healthy. Just give me three days,” he stressed, holding up three fingers.

  “I will. Blane,” she began hesitantly, “you can trust me. I would never tell anyone about you. To make sure I can’t drop even a tiny clue, I won’t leave this room until you give the order. I swear it.”

  Blane seized her and yanked her into his arms, embracing her and kissing her fiercely. Afterward, he held her against him for a time. “Listen to me, Shannon,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t forget how much I want you and I need you. Whatever happens, I’ll protect you. Don’t panic and run out on me. I’ll clear up this mess.”

  Shannon’s arms tightened around his waist and she snuggled closer to him. “Please come back to me, Blane.” She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. The cover slipped from her body.

  Passions soared to a torturous peak. Blane gently grasped her arms and separted them. “I have to leave, Shannon; it’s nearly daylight. Be waiting here for me, woman, or you’ll be sorry,” he teased in a ragged voice. Lord, it was agonizing to leave her like this.

  Blane kissed her briefly, then gathered his things. He left while she was still trembling with desire for him. She walked to the fireplace and leaned her forehead against the mantel. “Please keep him safe. I need him,” she prayed softly.

  Observing the naked figure at the fireplace, Mattilu asked herself if she should return later. Hearing the young woman’s words, she smiled and stayed. “Miss Shannon, are you all right?”

  Shannon whirled and looked at the brown-skinned woman whose expression held such sympathy and understanding. “I don’t think any of us will be all right again until this war is over.” She retrieved the blanket and wrapped it around her. “Blane must think I’m a terrible coward. Sometimes I behave so selfishly and foolishly. Oh, Matti,” she wailed in anguish. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. I feel so helpless. Whatever I do for one side, it hurts the other. Yet, how can I remain netural? It sounded so simple when I offered to help the Union. But that was before I witnessed the ravages of war and met the people involved. How can I steal facts and betray people I know? How can I be responsible for tragedy and death? I’m so confused. I feel as if I’m being torn apart. My heavens, I’m a Southerner, but I’m helping to destroy my land and people.”

  Mattilu came to where she was standing and laced her arm around Shannon’s shoulders. “You’re just tired, and worried about Major Stevens. Why don’t you get back into that warm bed and sleep a while longer? And don’t you go opening this door to anyone but me. Come along,” Mattilu instructed, guiding Shannon to the bed and tucking her in like a child. “You stay right there until I bring your lunch.”

  Before leaving, Mattilu added kindling and coal to the dying fire. When they caught, she added several large pieces of wood. She gathered the dishes and left the room, locking the door behind her. Shannon laid her cheek on the pillow and cried herself to sleep.

  When Mattilu returned just after one, she had to arouse Shannon to eat the hot meal. While doing so, Mattilu prepared a relaxing and refreshing bath before the cheery blaze. Shannon soaked for half an hour before drying off and slipping into a flannel gown. She would follow Blane’s orders and do nothing but rest. What else could she do? She had no money for shopping, and reading the papers depressed her.

  Around four, Sarah Jane came to visit and found Shannon in bed. She apologized for disturbing the napping female. Shannon smiled faintly. “Perhaps I’m just overly tired. We did work hard yesterday. It seems to get worse with each passing day. Don’t concern yourself over me. I plan to be lazy for a few days. Major…James and I should be leaving soon, so I had better get all of the quiet and rest I can.”

  As the other woman was leaving, Shannon called after her, “Sarah Jane, wait a moment. Don’t say who told you, but Jeremy was speaking of you the other day. He seemed to think you were only being kind and tolerant of him. He said he plans to let you know he’ll be available after the war. I believe his words were, ‘I wouldn’t want some officer or sea captain stealing her away.’ I hope you don’t object to my encouraging him to expose his feelings for you. I’m sure he’s only wary and insecure because of his wife’s actions. He couldn’t believe a fine and pretty lady like Sarah Jane Sinclair could be interested in him. Like so many men, he’s afraid to make any commitments or promises until this horrid war is over. You’ve nothing to fear, my friend; he is yours for the taking. Just move slowly for now.”

  Sarah Jane hugged her affectionately. “Thank you, Shannon. If you hadn’t come along, Jeremy and I might have sidestepped each other until it was too late. Do you know when he’ll be visiting again?”

  “I think in a week or two. Perhaps I can get a message to him through Major Ste…ven James. Excuse me for stammering this morning, but my throat is a little scratchy. Probably talked too much yesterday,” she blurted, cleverly concealing her partial slips. “Why don’t you invite him to have Christmas dinner with you? Why not ask him to spend the night Christmas Eve, then stay all day? I’m sure he’s lonely out there and would love to spend those special days with you.”

  “Heavens, what would he think if I asked him to stay the night?”

  “He would be thrilled, of course. Give him a task or two, such as getting you a Christmas tree and helping you decorate it. How can a hotel survive holidays without wood to cook the meals? Give your woodsman a short holiday, then ask Jeremy if he could please help you out of a bind by filling in for a few days. Tell him you’ll repay the generous deed by feeding him and giving him a free room. Or you could imply that men get rowdy during holidays and you need a strong man around to keep them in line, to protect you and your female workers. Even if he guesses it’s a ruse, he’ll go along with it.”

  “I’m scared to death, but I’m going to do it. I’m sure Molly will have a fit, but I don’t care. I do enough work around here to earn the right to have a free guest. You are the smartest woman I know, and I’m glad to have you as my friend. I shall hate to see you leave.”

  Shannon strolled around her room, feeling better after playing Cupid. It would be good for Sarah Jane and Jeremy to get married. Perhaps after spending time with her during the holidays, he might decide not to wait until after the war to announce his romantic intentions. He could move here and carry out his spy business without arousing her suspicions, just as he had been doing since the war began. Considering her intimate relationship with Blane, she realized that if Blane could fool her about his secret identity, surely Jeremy could keep Sarah Jane in the dark.

  Having slumbered so much of the day, Shannon couldn’t get to sleep until nearly dawn. She paced the floor, wishing she had a stiff brandy to settle her down. There was absolutely nothing to do, and she couldn’t seek anything during the middle of the night. Finally exhausting herself, she slept most of the day, only to have the same trouble that night.

  Determined to straighten out this nettling problem, Shannon forced herself to stay out of bed after Mattilu delivered her breakfast, even though it gave her four hours of nothingness. If she didn�
�t rectify this contradictory behavior by the time Blane returned, she would be too fatigued to keep up with him. By four, Shannon could hardly keep her eyes open. She took a bath, which relaxed her rather than stimulated her. At six she ate hot soup, warm bread, and steaming tea, all of which further increased her drowsiness. By eight, Shannon was lying across the bed on her stomach, dreaming of days past.

  Just before midnight, strong hands grabbed her shoulders and flung her to her back. A man straddled her body at the waist, pinning her to the bed and her arms to her sides. One weather-roughened hand clamped over her mouth and nose, preventing a scream for help or a plea for an explanation. His other hand spread over her throat and began to squeeze, leisurely and vengefully.

  Shannon stared at her attacker, knowing this was not a bad dream. The lamplight was low, but she could see every line of emotion on his face. His eyes were so cold, so full of anger, so full of accusations, so full of hatred, so full of bitterness. He was gritting his teeth so hard that she oddly wondered what kept them from shattering under such pressure. He was so strong and his grip was unbreakable. She could not swallow. She could feel the blood pounding inside her head, causing her face to grow warm and red. No air could reach her lungs and they began to ache.

  Tiny bright lights danced before her line of vision, which was darkening ominously. She tried to struggle, but it was futile. He kept watching her eyes, waiting to see her die beneath his hands. Her face tingled and her flesh felt strange. He was going to kill her. She didn’t know why, and he wouldn’t allow her to ask. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and rolled into her hair. She drilled her gaze into his, mutely pleading for an answer to this madness.

  The man suddenly released his pressure on her throat, as if content to smother her with his bare hand. She tried to free her nose and mouth, if only for one gasp of air. She had never imagined she would die this way, because of this man. Shannon closed her eyes to let the blackness claim her warring senses.