Both of them turned toward him and the little girl pointed.
Was she Abby? Why would the refined ladies of Macon want him to meet a working girl from the red-light district? Perhaps a Code One was some kind of test to measure his men’s moral fiber.
“…and Eliza Jane Stratton has made her mincemeat pie for you. You’ve never tasted mincemeat pie like hers in all your born days.”
He’d never tasted anyone’s mincemeat pie in all his born days. He’d avoided the vile smelling concoction most of his life, and he wasn’t inclined to change that now.
Glancing again in the direction of the town, he tried to spot the woman in gray again, but she wasn’t where he’d last seen her. The memory of her unusual green eyes made him want to see them again. Up close.
Just as his arm was nearly tugged out of socket, he spotted her hurrying up the street, heading his way. With concentrated effort, he pressed past the swarm surrounding him.
“Need help there, Colonel?” One of his heftier soldiers called out from across the way.
“Tend the horses. See that they get water.” His tone was sharper than was called for, but he wasn’t used to disorder. Ian ran a tight command, and he wasn’t going to let a few women be his unravelling.
The closer she came to where he stood, the more interesting she became.
Some women needed frills and finery to enhance what God had given them, but this one, in plain, practical gray, carried herself like a champion thoroughbred. Beautiful mane held high with a graceful, confident stride.
Her extraordinary eyes rose to meet his, and he froze. Green with a hint of gold, framed by dark lashes.
What was wrong with him? He’d seen pretty women before. Plenty of them.
Dismissing the odd reaction, Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his tired eyes shut. The past several days, jostling undetected through the pines, had his head in a fog. A good night’s rest would have him thinking clearer.
When he reopened his eyes, he caught her smiling broadly at something one of the other women said in passing and he was right back to staring again.
Whoever she was, her smile lit up everything around her.
Macon’s socialites sure were a lot friendlier toward the district women than he remembered.
A hush settled over the boardwalk as the women quieted, watching her approach the post where Ian stood.
The green-eyed woman’s careful inspection of him was brazen and without apology.
“Pardon me, sir.” She stepped to the side and peered around him as if hunting for someone else.
Apparently, he was not what she was searching for. Ian moved aside to let her by.
Fitz tipped his hat in greeting, but she barely gave him a glance.
Her attention was now centered on his men, who refilled the horse troughs with buckets of fresh water. This had gone far enough. The troops were in no condition to resist such blatant temptation.
“Excuse me.” Ian stepped in front of her to block any more scrutiny of his men.
Tipping her head to look up at him, her focus returned to Ian. With a careful touch, she reached out and ran a hand over the insignia on his sleeve then made a visual study of the stars on his collar.
“One, two, three.” Her lips pursed in concentration. “So, you must be the colonel.”
Ian wasn’t sure why he let her finish her inspection, other than he was curious now to see what she was up to.
“You look fine to me,” she said.
Ian felt her gaze glide over his torso.
“Nevertheless, please unbutton your shirt.”
The few men who stood within earshot snickered loudly, and he heard a lady gasp behind him.
Ian silenced them with a hard look.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Miss …” He still didn’t know her name.
“Abigail McFadden.” Confusion shone in her eyes, but her resolve didn’t waver. She once again reached for the fastening of his uniform.
“Well, Miss Abigail, you’re wasting your time.” He caught her by the wrist, stilling her indecent probe. “My men and I are on a mission. We have no interest in consorting with public women.”
Her eyes widened, and he could swear the green darkened a shade. With a sudden yank, she freed her arm from his grasp. “I beg your pardon?”
“There will be no visits to your brothel while we—.”
Quick as a flash, Abigail McFadden grabbed a wooden bucket from the hands of a private and tossed its contents, soaking Ian from head to foot.
“A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.”
~ Lord Byron
Two
Abby held her breath, intensely aware of the man she’d just doused. If he hadn’t been wounded before, surely he was now.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned.” Elizabeth Lambert directed a weary look at Cora Dobbs before turning to the dripping Colonel. “Our apologies, Colonel Saberton. Abby can be a tad hasty.”
“Don’t stand there gawking.” Cora waved at the stunned corporal holding the horse’s reins. “Go get the colonel a towel.”
“Abby’s not a …” Mable Lea Thompson’s eyes were huge behind her thick spectacles. “Did you hear that, Cora? He thinks Abby’s a …”
Giggling trickled through the crowd.
“That’s because she’s always going down to the whorehouse.” Penny Jo piped in.
“Hush your mouth, Penelope.” Elizabeth Lambert, ever the well-behaved Southerner, put up with no nonsense out of her two daughters. Or as Cora referred to them, “two of the sassiest young women this side of the Mississippi.”
Abby cherished Elizabeth’s support. From the day she’d begun work at the Floyd House Hospital, the Lamberts had taken her under their wing like she was daughter number three. “I’m certain Colonel Saberton has a perfectly good reason for making such an absurd assumption.” No one missed the irritated side-glance Elizabeth threw his way. “At least he better have.”
The colonel drew his hand over the dark beard covering his jaw and flung water off into the muddy ground at his feet. “My apologies if I’ve offended you, Miss McFadden.”
The man towering over her was staring so hard it was unnerving. Trying again, she refused to let him intimidate her. “You may call me Abby. Nurse Abby.”
He removed his hat and gave a quick toss to his shaggy hair, sending water droplets showering over her.
Squinting, she wiped the moisture from one eye to clear her vision.
She couldn’t prove it, but was not at all convinced he hadn’t done that on purpose.
“All right, then, Nurse Abby. I’ve apparently made a grave mistake.” He slid the slouch hat back over his brow and settled it onto his head, looking every bit as arrogant as he had when he’d been completely dry. “For that, I most humbly apologize.”
“That still don’t answer why you thought the colonel needed a good dampening down in broad daylight.” The grizzled lieutenant leaning against a hitching post shared a laugh with the soldier next to him. “Best run. She’ll be tryin’ to bathe us all.”
“I was told he was ill.” Abby sidestepped the mud to avoid ruining her best work skirt.
“So, you slung a bucketful of water at him?” The older soldier guffawed. “That’s mighty curious medicine.”
“Did I look ill?” The way the colonel spoke directly to her as if half the town wasn’t standing there listening felt a little too cozy.
“Not necessarily.” Looking him over now, she could see he was in fine form. Broad shoulders, well-defined muscles in his legs and arms. “Do I look like a soiled dove?”
His brow rose and so did hers. Abby refused to look away.
“Not necessarily.”
Somehow, she got the feeling his denial wasn’t as gracious as hers had been.
“I was told to come quickly.” Abby tried to clarify. “Penny Jo said a Colonel here was desperately ill.”
“Mrs. Cora told me to,” Penny Jo offered in her o
wn defense.
“My exact words were, ‘there is a colonel here in need of desperate attention’.” Cora patted the tortoise shell comb atop her tightly wound chignon. “And to hurry because he was a ‘Code One’.”
Penny Jo knelt to pet the dog. “I told her.”
“What’s a Code One?” The older soldier asked.
Cora Dobbs’ clandestine code for handsome, unmarried gentleman. Though Abby refused to be the one to explain it.
“See? And was I wrong?” Cora stepped forward and gave Abby a know-it-all nod.
Abby looked closer and decided he was younger than she’d first thought. At least younger than most colonels she’d ever seen before. Most were well into their forties or fifties. This one might easily be thirty or even younger.
The colonel gave a half smile that softened his features.
Thankful for the breeze blowing her hair, she lifted her face to cool the sudden warmth in her cheeks.
“Now that all is forgiven, let’s begin again with proper introductions. Miss Abigail McFadden, meet Colonel Ian Saberton.” Elizabeth Lambert nudged her forward.
“He’s here to take General Farris’s place.” Cora added.
The ladies began to clap excitedly.
“What in blue blazes is wrong with this bunch o’ hens?” The gray-headed soldier took a couple of towels from General Farris’s assistant and tossed them to his commander. “You ain’t said nothin’ about coming down here to take over for no general.”
“And that’s Lieutenant Something-or-Another.” Cora Dobbs dismissed him with a wave of her lace-gloved hand.
The other soldiers gathered around, clearly confused by Cora’s announcement as well.
“Ladies, please.” Colonel Saberton swiped the towel over his face one last time before tossing it back to the assistant. “I’m not taking anyone’s place, and this has gone far enough.”
“You forget, Colonel, I am the wife of our city’s mayor. I am privy to these things.” Cora insisted. “General Farris is past his prime and needs to move on. If we are to fend off those tiresome Yankees, we’ll need someone with a stronger constitution than that old walrus. You’ll do nicely.”
“So, do we get to keep him or not?” Penny Jo threw a stick across the road for her pup to fetch.
“That’s none of your concern. Run on home and take that yappy animal with you.” Elizabeth gave her daughter a swat on the backside to send her on her way.
“But Mrs. Cora promised. She said if I’d fetch Abby, she’d give me a nickel. Said she’d make it a dime if Abby could convince him to stay and be our new general.”
All eyes turned to the mayor’s wife, who appeared contrite for only an instant before resuming her normal no nonsense manner. “You’ll get your dime. Now go do what your mama says.”
“Just look at all of these poor men, near starving to death.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Ladies, we must go and prepare our soldiers a decent meal.”
“Don’t have Abby cook.” Penny Jo called back as she skipped down the center of the road. “She’d kill them all dead.”
Abby folded her arms and turned to the mayor’s wife. “A dime, Cora? Really?”
“Have I mentioned Abby is a fine nurse?” Cora looked past Abby to address the colonel. “She truly is. Simply the best.”
The other ladies offered their full agreement.
Abby was fairly certain he was aware by now that she was a nurse. Although, she’d be interested to know why he made such a presumption otherwise.
As she was about to ask, Elizabeth cut her off. “No denying it, dear. You have a certain way about you most gentlemen find utterly charming. Those soldiers at the hospital won’t rest at night until you tuck them in.”
Now, that was just ridiculous.
“Colonel Saberton.” A courier called out, running over from the depot. As he approached, he saluted the colonel. “Sir, General Farris requests that I deliver you to the Dobbs’ house for a meeting as soon as your troops are settled into camp.”
He then turned to Cora. “Mrs. Dobbs your husband asked that I remind you the new troops will need a home-cooked meal delivered to their camp as a gesture of Macon’s hospitality.”
“No, you can’t go!” Cora Dobbs moved around Abby to delay Colonel Saberton from leaving. “You tell Walter, Abby will bring the colonel over there just as soon as she shows him around a bit.”
“Our orders said we’d be meetin’ here at the courthouse.” Lieutenant Fitz looked up at his commander, squinting against the sun.
“Thank you, Mrs. Dobbs and ladies, for welcoming me and my men. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” Colonel Saberton tipped his hat and gave no room for argument as he immediately issued orders to saddle up.
On his way to his horse, Lieutenant Fitz clapped the courier on the back. “You’re a veritable Godsend, boy. I was certain the whole pack of them were fixin’ to skin him alive.”
“Oh, go on. You’re dismissed.” Cora huffed at Farris’s messenger, clearly put out that her plans were going awry. “Abby will bring him.”
The young courier looked to Ian, who issued a formal dismissal.
“We are simply doing our civic duty.” Cora spoke to no one in particular. “Strategizing is what women do best and our initiatives will turn the tides of this war. You mark my words.”
Several women agreed with an “amen.”
“Head out!” Colonel Saberton sent the company of soldiers off toward the river to set up camp. Only he and Lieutenant Fitz remained.
“Come along, ladies.” They all fell in line behind Cora. “Abby, it’s your civic duty to see the colonel to the meeting. Personally.”
Marching off in formation, they headed back toward town.
Abby sighed. The ladies were harmless enough, just bored and desperate to help bring an end to the war so their husbands, brothers, fathers, and sons could come home.
Glancing over at the colonel, she decided it was best to start over. “I’m Abigail McFadden. My friends call me Abby.”
“Then Abby it is.” Colonel Saberton flashed a smile.
Lieutenant Fitz gave her a fatherly wink. “My friends call me Fitz, and I’d be honored if you did as well.”
Abby watched the colonel pick up an apple from the road, bringing it to where his horse was tied. Soothing the animal, he fed it from the palm of his hand. He hadn’t eaten the fruit himself, which surprised her. Fresh fruit beat fermented peaches from a tin can any day.
Even with shaggy hair and a jaw full of stubble, she could see this Colonel Saberton wasn’t without his share of masculine appeal—it would be hard not to notice. But watching him there with his horse, she wondered if maybe he wasn’t quite as arrogant as she’d first thought. He was fairly quiet, except when issuing orders. The man, Ian Saberton, was either a deep well of thought, or he was a tad bit on the shy side. She couldn’t decide which. Maybe both.
The way he spoke soothingly next to his horse’s cheek gave the impression he was a kind man when he chose to be.
Turning toward her, as if he sensed he was being watched, a hint of a grin lifted the curve of his mouth. He evidently was keenly aware of everything going on around him.
She’d watched his men obey his slightest directive with no hesitation. Therefore, she concluded, he must be a trustworthy man as well.
General Farris, by contrast, led by intimidation and coercion. No commander in the entire Confederate Army seemed inclined to confront his malignant behavior or put a stop to his cruel ways. He had no concern for anyone, man nor beast, other than himself.
Would Colonel Saberton be any different?
As if reading her thoughts, the colonel’s gaze lowered to hers and stayed there until she looked away.
A daring man to boot.
Beneath the dishevel and road grime, his intelligent dark eyes spoke of wisdom, the discerning kind.
Abby reluctantly admitted he piqued her interest.
Although his manner was
quiet, the man was bold. A little too bold for her comfort. Intriguing and unnerving at the same time.
Abby decided to meet her apprehensions head on. “So you’re a Colonel?” She called over to him and immediately regretted it. Of course, he was a colonel.
A small button on his cap caught her eye. A Latin cross like the one chaplains wore at the hospital.
“For now.” With a final pat on his horse’s flank, he came around to where she stood.
“I’m sorry for … that.” Abby pointed at his wet shirt beneath his open frock coat. Thankfully, the warm breeze seemed to help in drying his clothing. “Mrs. Lambert is right. I sometimes act before I think things through.”
“And I should not assume before I have all the facts,” he conceded.
“How’s about we go find Farris and get this meeting over with so we can eat.” Fitz returned and began to untie his horse.
“If you’d like, you can leave your horses tethered here in the shade. The Dobbs’ house isn’t far.” Abby pointed up Main Street. “To the left, there on College Street.”
“I believe you’ve been appointed our guide.” The colonel held out a hand for her to precede them. “Lead the way.”
More out of curiosity than any real need to go that direction, Abby agreed. Her shift at the hospital didn’t start for another forty-five minutes.
“You don’t sound like you’re from around these parts.” Fitz scratched his ear with a finger. “What brings you down to Georgia?”
A familiar dread seeped down her spine and just as quickly she admonished herself to ignore it. There was no reason to panic every time it was pointed out that she sounded like a Northerner. She was one, for heaven’s sake.
“I was raised in Ohio.” Abby swept a pinecone out of her path with a foot. “But nurses are needed wherever there are wounded. I was passing through and Doc Lambert convinced me to stay and help. I’ve been here for a year and a half.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be home with your family?” Ian asked, no malice in his tone.
“I have no living family to speak of.” Abby gazed up at the clear blue sky. “My parents were missionaries. They were killed by Cayuse Indians when I was five. A family of the church took me in.”
Field of Redemption Page 2