“What?” Ian didn’t bother to keep his volume down.
Abby shushed him and pulled him over to the side out of the children’s earshot. “Farris has a piece of paper saying so. He bought Sallie as an indentured servant, but after her death, her contract was not fulfilled so he’s decided Hickory will serve it out. Two more years. His provost marshal signed it and put his seal on it.”
Abby watched Hickory’s carrot top appear from under his lean-to when the girls showed him their pastries. A sweet smile split his face as he waved to Abby.
“I’ve long suspected Farris tries to take all the money Hickory makes at the telegraph office and hospital, too.” Abby spoke quietly. “I’ve seen him pass off coins to Penny Jo. She probably has them in a sock tucked away under her bed for him.”
Mo watched their every move.
Abby turned to see if Ian noticed as well, and found him staring the man down with a dangerous look in his eye.
Desperate to divert a storm, Abby made an attempt at small talk. “Hickory once told me he was named after President Jackson. He seems proud of that.”
“Abby!” Mrs. Oberhaus waved her down to where she, Holana, and Mama Ivy were waiting for them.
Ian went before her as she continued down the slope. Mrs. Oberhaus greeted her with a hug. “Thank you for bringing us supplies. I know this didn’t come cheap.”
“Mrs. Oberhaus, meet Colonel Ian Saberton.”
“A real Colonel!” She clapped her hands together much like her little girls had done.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Oberhaus.” Ian gave a forced smile, and the dear lady blushed.
“Holana, I brought a bristle brush for your hair.” Abby lifted a wooden brush from the packet and brought it to the solemn woman. “It’s like the one I told you about. My friend has beautiful long hair like yours, and a brush like this makes it shine.”
Holana remained guarded, but turned for Abby to whisk the brush through the end of her braid.
“You did what you came for, Nurse Lady. Now be on your way.” Mo hollered from his place outside his tent.
The brusque way he refused to address her by name never failed to rattle Abby’s nerves. “Holana, get over here.” As usual, his tone was angry.
When she didn’t move fast enough, Mo came over and snatched the brush from Holana’s hand. He ordered her inside the tent with a jerk of his head. His large belly was barely covered by a faded red vest with a revolver tucked inside the waistband of his pants. His hair, black as coal, bushed out on either side of his head and his straggly beard fell down to his chest.
The malice in his black eyes was a force of its own.
Abby stood directly between Ian and Mo. The tension between the two was palpable.
Mama Ivy apparently felt it, too. “Children. Get inside the tent.” Her tone was calm but firm.
Abby decided she needed to act quickly to avoid the mounting hostility.
“I’m here to bring supplies.” Abby lifted her chin and walked over to where Mo stood, refusing to be intimidated. “And treats for the children.”
She held up the sack of pastries Eliza Jane had sent, knowing he would reach for them.
When he did, she moved it just out of his reach. “And a hairbrush for Holana.” Holding out her other hand, she took a chance that he would be willing to trade.
A slow smile crept up his pock-marked face, showing blackened teeth as he began to laugh. “Of course.” Though he smiled, there was no humor in his eyes as he snatched the sack and tossed the brush her way.
Ian caught it in midair to keep it from hitting her.
“Who’s this? Your body guard?” Mo laughed until he choked.
“Colonel Ian Saberton.” Abby paused to let it sink in. “At the snap of his fingers, he can bring you in on a string of charges.”
She expected Ian to act a bit more appreciative of her defense. Instead, he seemed irritated.
Mo turned his head and spewed a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt. His eyes narrowed, as he summed up the much taller man at Abby’s side.
“We don’t need no army up here.” With that, he flung back the flap of his tent and called back from inside. “You brought what you came for—now leave.”
Abby handed the brush to Mrs. Oberhaus. “Please see that Holana gets this.”
“He’s a nasty one.” Mrs. Oberhaus said none too quietly. “But I’ll keep it in my tent for her to use. He knows better than to look for it in there. Mama Ivy will see to that.”
With a wave to the girls, Abby and Ian started back to their buggy.
“It’s always a struggle to leave them to Mo’s bullying.” Each time she came she wanted to bring them all home with her. The problem was, she had no home to bring them to.
“Has he ever laid a hand on you?” Ian helped her up the incline.
“Never.” That was the honest truth. Mo had no control over her, and he knew it.
“Hickory?”
Abby couldn’t put into words the cruelty she’d seen in the angry welts across the boy’s hind quarters on two separate occasions. So she just nodded and left it at that.
“There’s one more pastry.” Abby lifted it from a brown paper on the buggy seat. “I’ll bring it down to Hickory.”
“Mind if I take it to him?” Ian watched Hickory over her shoulder, and Abby followed his gaze.
The boy kept his attention on her, probably hoping she hadn’t forgotten him.
“Tell him there’s more.” Abby handed Ian the pastry. “I gave them to Mrs. Oberhaus. She’ll give him another one later.”
Ian nodded, and went to where Hickory stood beside his makeshift home. Crossing her arms, Abby watched Hickory eagerly accept the treat from Ian’s hand.
Ian took off his hat and removed the Chaplain’s cross pinned there. Reaching over, he tacked it to the shoulder strap of Hickory’s overalls. She couldn’t tell what was being said, but Hickory’s face lit up, and he gave a wide grin.
With a ruffle of the boy’s bright hair, Ian bid him farewell and waved once again to Mrs. Oberhaus and her girls before meeting Abby at the buggy.
Abby’s heart swelled thinking about his considerate treatment of the shanty camp waifs. Honestly, she hadn’t known what to expect. Ian Saberton surprised her at every turn. He was more like her father than she ever would have imagined. Even to the point of silently simmering when he was mad.
Now to figure a way to divert the fury working that muscle in his jaw.
“True love cannot be found where it does not exist…
nor can it be hidden where it does.”
~ William Shakespeare
Fourteen
Ian never wanted to take another man’s throat into his hands as badly as he had when that degenerate openly leered at Abby, slowly taking in her every curve.
Call it chivalry, or suspicion. Call it whatever you please. The memory still curdled his blood. To think Abby had made the trip out there alone in the past, several times, sent a surge of irritation through him like he’d never known.
Brandishing the reins to get the ancient stable horse moving past a snail’s pace, Ian avoided looking over at her. He needed to get his temper under control first.
Abby McFadden was exasperating.
Without a doubt, she was the most hard-headed woman he’d ever encountered. Even Dottie Saberton, who was known for her gumption, could learn a thing or two from this one.
The way she’d sauntered down there to confront that coward. Flagrantly daring him over a hairbrush for Halona. The woman had more mettle than brains.
Shanty towns were a haven for outlaws and renegades. No place to give free rein to her reckless impulses. She’d get herself killed. Somehow, Ian was determined to make her see it. He refused to think what might have happened if he hadn’t gone with her today.
It was imperative he get back to send a dispatch out to General Wheeler as soon as possible. The information Abby had inadvertently passed on was crucial and needed to be acted
on immediately. His soldiers hadn’t been the ones trying to solicit the boys into planting explosives, so that could only mean the Union forces had forged south. Most likely planning to take down the railroad to prevent troops and supplies from coming in.
But first things first.
Before she left this buggy, Abby would understand that from here on out, she was banned from going back to the shanty camp. She’d better know he had the authority to enforce it, too. And wouldn’t give a moment’s hesitation in doing so.
He’d have the women and children, including Hickory, removed to the refugee camp before tomorrow evening. If Farris had a problem with that, he could come ask about it himself. Ian would relish that conversation.
Steering the buggy onto a rocky flat, overlooking a cascading stream, Ian set the brake and propped a boot up on the footboard, fully prepared to have this out once and for all.
“Ian? Is everything all right?” Abby asked quietly.
This was for her own good. He’d get the children out of that filthy hovel without losing Abby to her own foolishness.
Then he made the mistake of looking over at her.
Reddish-gold wisps danced about her shoulders from where her long hair was pulled back into a ribbon at the back of her neck. His gaze wandered over the soft curls blowing in the breeze around her, and he suddenly wondered how they would feel between his fingers.
Sitting back, Ian rested one arm on the back of her seat, the other on his bent knee.
“No, Abby. Everything’s not all right.” His plan to remain calm gave way as soon as he opened his mouth. Only by heaven’s grace was she was sitting here at all. “What were you thinking back there? Do you have any idea who these people are? Desperate criminals, that’s who. Desperate enough to slit your throat and toss your remains in the river without a shred of remorse.” His voice rose steadily until he was practically yelling. “I can guarantee Mo has killed for much less than what you just did. Making an utter fool of him in front of the whole camp. If something happened to you, who would look after the kids then?”
He watched for tears, but Abby didn’t intimidate easily. Soldiers twice her size had backed away from such fierce questioning.
Instead, Abby straightened her back, crossed her arms, and lifted a perfect brow. “Now’s a fine time to care. Some of those children have been wandering aimlessly for years. And not one person has seen fit to take them in.”
“You’re not going back.” Ian countered just as adamantly.
“Not with you, I’m not.” She huffed and looked out the other side of the buggy. “You can count on that.”
Ian gritted his teeth to keep from snapping a direct order of “silence!” Soldiers were infinitely easier to keep subordinate than a headstrong female.
Drawing a cleansing breath, he decided to try again. This time he’d put personal feelings aside to simply present the facts. “For your own protection, you will not leave the city. I will arrange to move the women and children to a camp in Macon. A meeting place within city limits will be established for you to provide sweets or hairbrushes or whatever your little heart desires to a representative of the shanty be it Hickory or Mama Ivy—anyone as long as it’s not that buffoon, Mo. Is that understood?” Ian gave his order in the same tone that brooked no argument from his men.
Why was she laughing?
“You’re serious?”
When Ian assured her that he most definitely was, she only found it more amusing. “I will come and go as I please. I’ve not broken any laws.”
“I have no time for this, Abby.” Unfastening the reins, he steered the horse back onto the road. “You will heed my orders, or there will be consequences to pay.”
“I would think that you of all people would recall that I do not like to be threatened, Colonel.” Bold and unyielding, the challenge in her eye was unmistakable. “General Farris can brief you on that.”
Ian chose to ignore her bluster.
Tense quietness between them stretched on for a good ten minutes, broken only by the steady clopping of the horse’s hooves. Finally looking over, he saw that she was watching a couple of squirrels playing tag on the outer bank.
“They seem to be getting along better than we are.” Abby offered without looking at him.
“I just want you safe.”
That was as close to an apology as she was going to get. The thought of losing her knotted his stomach. Admitting it, however, was more disturbing than dealing with her anger.
“I know you do.” Abby turned to him. “But they depend on me.” Her hand slipped over to lightly clasp his. “Ian, Hickory depends on me.”
Ian nodded, scanning the blue sky. “He’s a remarkable kid. Has every reason to have lost faith.” His tone softened considerably with her hand in his. “But the boy’s steady as a rock.”
“He counts on me for more than just food and an occasional treat, you know.” She let go of his hand and Ian instantly felt the loss. “With Sallie gone, I’m his last link to a life outside the shanty. A buoy in the storm so to speak.” Deep concern shone in her eyes. “I won’t abandon him.”
Ian slowed the horse to a stop and turned to better see her. “Abby, I’m not asking you to abandon him. You can see him as often as you need to. I just won’t risk you going to the camp alone anymore.”
Abby got quiet for a minute before she went on. “Without his mother, Hickory needs to know I won’t leave him. That I’ll still be here for him, wherever he may be.”
Endangering her right along with the children was not the solution.
“Once I get back this afternoon, I’ll look at the camps. We’ll make room for Mama Ivy and the children in army issued tents closest to the hospital. Will that make you feel better? You can go see them as often as your schedule allows.”
That was closest to a full concession that he was willing to go. In truth, his mission in Macon included gathering vulnerable citizens into supervised refugee camps. That included Hickory and his friends.
In her excitement, she leaned toward him, and Ian folded an arm around her.
Her expression suddenly fell. “But Farris has made it clear he won’t let him go.”
“Farris’ piece of paper means nothing. General Hawthorne has the authority to bring Hickory under local supervision with sufficient evidence of neglect and mistreatment. You and I will both attest to that. I’ll speak with him this afternoon.”
Her smile was back. “Thank you. Promise me when this war is over with, you’ll find a permanent place for Hickory. And for his baby sister, too. You know people in Georgia who might take them in.”
“Like your foster family did for you?” He lifted her chin to bring her eyes up to meet his. Shimmering green with splashes of gold.
“Yes.”
“I give you my word.”
For the briefest moment, Ian lowered his head. His mouth hovered over hers, as he struggled with his conscience. Allowing his lips to brush her lips in a soft caress, he could taste her sweet breath. He was unmistakably drawn to her. But he knew one simple kiss would be offering a promise for more. And with so many uncertainties, he had nothing more to offer her.
Ian sat back into his seat.
He could see she mistook his hesitation for rejection. Hurt shone bright in her eyes.
“I could kiss you right now. And believe me, I’d enjoy every minute of it.” Without thinking, he traced the pout of her lower lip with his thumb. “But, your heart’s been broken far too many times in your life. I won’t be the cause of another.”
Abby caught his hand and placed a sweet kiss on his palm. “Then don’t be.”
He smiled at her simplistic reasoning.
“Let’s get you get back to the hospital.” Releasing the brake, Ian snapped the reins. “And stop thinking so much about kissing.”
Abby side-glanced his way. “Is that an order, Colonel?”
Ian raised a brow at her question. “Would you obey if it was?”
A shrug and falteri
ng grin were her only answer.
Abby made a concentrated effort to appear unaffected, but her pulse was racing. If she were capable of catching a thought, she’d try to make sense of what just happened.
Maybe it hadn’t happened at all. Maybe she’d simply imagined it.
Resisting the urge to touch her lips, she decided it had indeed been real. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the intensity that had passed between them in that fleeting moment when his lips brushed against hers. Like nothing she’d ever experienced.
Unfortunately, it only left her wishing for more, though not exactly sure what it was she wished for.
Despite the fact that neither of them spoke, it was more sad than awkward. If only they’d met five years ago, things would have been so different. They’d most likely be married by now and could kiss all they wanted to.
But given who she was and what he was, there could be no future for them. Ian had made that fairly clear. Times were perilous, only God knew what the future held for this land or anyone who lived within her shores.
Just as they entered the outskirts of Macon, Abby noticed a rider barreling toward them. As he neared, his Confederate gray uniform became more distinct, and Ian pulled on the reins.
Lieutenant Fitz skidded up alongside the buggy. “Rev, you’re needed at headquarters.” Catching a breath, he yanked the kerchief from around his neck and swiped at the perspiration dripping down his face.
In two steps, Ian leapt from the buggy and approached Fitz’s horse. “What’s happened?”
“The Yanks got to the storehouses. Raided two of ’em. They tried to set ’em ablaze but we shot one full of minnies and they took off.”
“Lieutenant, are there other wounded?” Apprehension furrowed Abby’s brow.
As it was, every hospital in town was well over capacity. If fighting broke out, they’d soon be short on supplies and horribly understaffed.
“See Miss McFadden back to the hospital in the buggy. I’ll take your horse.”
Field of Redemption Page 12