by April London
“What the hell?” James groaned and reached to touch his jaw.
“Get up.” Davis reached for James’s hand and hauled him off the ground.
“What the hell?” James pushed Davis’ hands away and stepped back.
“I’ve wanted to do that since Appomattox. It felt good.” Davis nodded.
James moved his jaw.
“Why did you come all the way to Tennessee…all the way to the farm…and just walk away?” Davis took a step toward James. “Just to walk away without talking to anyone. To Tamsyn.” He clenched his fists by his side. “Especially to Tamsyn.”
“Because she looked happy,” James slurred. “The last thing I wanted to do was cause her more unhappiness. Ruin whatever peace she has.”
Davis stared at James. “Happy? Are you blind, Yankee?” Davis shook his head. “I guess you hit your head pretty damn hard.” He looked up at the sky.
“The last thing her new husband needs to have is an old lover showing up,” James slurred on.
“Husband?”
“I saw the man put his arms around her.” James stumbled toward the saloon.
“Get in the wagon, Steele.” Davis grabbed James by the arm and redirected his steps. “You have to talk to her.”
“Davis, what are you doing?” Mrs. Hart asked.
Davis pushed James into the seat next to her.
“He saw Tamsyn with her husband,” Davis said to her.
“What?” Mrs. Hart leaned away from the whiskey stench of the man forced into the middle. “Davis, this isn’t right. You should just let him leave. Tamsyn has been through enough.”
“We can sober you up at the creek,” Davis said to James.
“Davis, you can’t take him back there,” Mrs. Hart insisted.
“Mama, he has to go back.” Davis clucked the horses into movement.
James weaved between the two of them. The wagon bounced along and started the steep incline into the mountains. He listened to them argue over him for a while before the whiskey fuzzed his mind out.
“Steele, wake up.”
Bitter cold water hit James in the face. He gasped. His mind began to form profanity and his mouth opened to let it out.
“Dammit! What the hell!?” James’s eyes opened and tried to focus on the culprit in front of him. His eyes narrowed. He found Davis Hart standing over him grinning. The events of earlier flooding into his mind and he let out a loud groan.
“Be quiet.” Davis handed James a tin cup of hot coffee. “Mother slipped back inside. She wants no part of my plan.”
James accepted the coffee while his eyes watched Davis. “You aren’t intending on drowning me in the creek, are you?”
“If I were going to murder you, I would’ve done it in the street in town so someone else would have to dispose of your body.” Davis’s tone was matter-of-fact. He tossed James a towel. “Dry off.”
“Good to know,” James murmured. “The coffee tastes like shit.” He rubbed his face dry.
“I thought that’s how you liked it.” Davis crossed his arms over his chest. “Seems that was how you took your coffee in the camp.”
James tossed the watered down coffee onto the ground. “Is this plan going to end with her husband murdering me for you?”
Davis grinned. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “But no.” He shifted so he could watch the house. “Truth be told, General Steele, I don’t like you much right now.”
James rubbed his jaw where he was certain a bruise blossomed.
The feeling is definitely mutual, damn rebel.
“But you’re going to talk to my sister. Even if I have to go find the rifle and hold it to your damn head to make it happen.” Davis shifted. His eyes remained on the house. “Now, Tamsyn always steps outside. The house gets hot with all the people and she can’t breathe.” He tossed James a glance over his shoulder. “When she comes out on the porch is your chance. I can keep everyone inside.”
James fought a shudder.
“Now,” Davis whispered.
James heard the front door slam shut. Davis took off across the side yard toward the house. James frowned.
The man is fast to have only one leg.
He followed Davis. He could hear the soft humming from the front porch even before he reached it. The same tune I heard her sing in Virginia.
“Tam, you feel okay?” Davis hurried toward her.
Her hands rested on her back. She stood on the top step with her eyes closed.
James’s frown deepened. Deep circles framed her eyes and despite the baby that swelled her stomach, she was too thin.
“Yeah, Dave. It just gets so hot in the house.” She smiled.
James’s heart raced.
“For the first time, I wish the snow would hurry.”
Davis tossed a look at James before he climbed the steps. “Take your time, Tam.” Davis kissed his sister on her cheek.
James waited until Davis pulled the door closed behind him before he stepped closer to the porch. “Hello, Tamsyn.”
****
Tamsyn’s eyes flew open and she jerked back. Her eyes landed on the man standing at the bottom of the steps. Damp hair clung to his forehead. Dark hazel eyes watched her. She clutched her hands to her sides. The urge to brush away that one lock of hair rode over her.
“You’re a ghost.” She backed away. She’d spent the last six months trying to forget his face.
“No, not a ghost.” James ascended the first step.
He looked the same as he did the day she left. “Why are you here?” Her voice shook. The baby inside her rolled in response to her sudden nervousness. She clutched at her stomach with one hand.
“I came because of you.” He took another step up. His suit clung to him, damp.
“Why are you wet?” Her knees bumped against the rocker.
He dropped his head. “Your brother doused me with water.” He brought his head up and his gaze found hers.
“Why?”
“I was drunk,” he admitted with another step onto the porch.
She bit her bottom lip and tasted blood. Should I tell him?
“You look…”
She forced a bitter laugh. “Well?”
She was very aware of how she looked. She’d found herself sick for six months. Nothing seemed to stay down. Sleep continued to elude her. In the first few months she was plagued with nightmares. Her body swelled with the child inside her. Deep bruising circles ran under her eyes. She dropped into the rocker. Exhausted.
“What do you want, James?” She closed her eyes.
“Does he treat you well?” he asked from his post at the top of the steps.
“Who?”
Is my mind going along with my body?
“Your husband.”
She opened one eye and looked at him. “Did Davis hit you over the head too?”
His jaw began to tick and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No, the jaw.”
She laughed. “Where on earth did you get the idea I was married?” She opened both eyes and straightened. “Did Davis tell you that?”
His gaze caressed over her body like a hand and she shivered. His gaze stopped on her swollen belly and he shrugged. “I assumed since…”
Her lips stretched into a thin line over her face. “I am not married.” She began to rock. The soothing motion often quieted the rolling child inside her.
“Oh.” He shifted. “The man who put his arms around you this afternoon…”
“You were here this afternoon?” Her heart fluttered. She tried to push the tiniest ray of hope that tugged at her heart away.
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you come to the house then?”
Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe once he saw me, he realized he didn’t care for me.
“I saw him put his arms…around you. I-I saw you. I didn’t want to cause you any problems. It seemed you found happiness.”
She rubbed her stomach and continued to rock. Her eyes never lef
t his face. “James, the baby is yours.”
He stumbled forward. “What?”
She frowned. “I don’t need to repeat myself. You heard me.” She stopped rocking.
“Why didn’t you get word to me?”
She arched an eyebrow. “How did you put it? You seemed to have found happiness.” Her voice carried the sarcasm her body was too tired to feel. “How was the wedding, by the way?”
“I broke the engagement.”
“I’m surprised Miss Amory didn’t have your legs broken.” She smiled at the thought. “Hmm, perhaps Davis would do that for me.”
The two were silent. A chilling breeze carried across the porch and Tamsyn sighed with relief. The heated flush subsided. She’d known the breeze would come. She just needed to wait for it.
“I’m sorry, Tamsyn.” He forced himself to move forward and kneel in front of where she sat in the rocker.
“For what, exactly?” she snapped.
“Everything.” He reached to touch her hand where it rested on the arm of the rocker.
She jerked her hand back. “For what? Exactly.”
He nodded. She needed to hear specifics. “For lying to you. For causing you embarrassment. For hurting you.” He glanced up just in time to see the tears sparkle in her eyes before she closed them. “Most of all for hurting you.”
“Why did you come here?”
“For you.” He smiled. His gaze landed on her stomach. “Abigail and George expect you at their wedding in a month.”
“I am surprised they waited so long.”
“George had a few business dealings to wrap up in New York. I promised them I would return with you in time for the wedding.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” The smell of whiskey reached her nose. Her stomach churned in response. “James, move!”
“What?”
She shoved him back. She fled for the railing of the porch and emptied the contents of her stomach. Warm hands touched her back, tentatively at first. His hands grew more confident when she didn’t jerk away.
She retched over the side. Standing upright she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sucked in the cool night air.
“Are you all right?”
She turned into him. Her head landed against his chest. He stumbled backwards. She sobbed against him and he pushed his arms around her while she cried.
“Shh.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Give me your hand.” She pressed his hand against the top of her swollen stomach.
Under his hand the baby rolled and kicked. He laughed out loud. His smile beamed and he looked down at her. “Marry me, Tamsyn.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. “Marry me and go with me back to Boston.”
“James,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
The baby moved against the palm of his hand again and he grinned.
“You have to take a bath.” Her stomach rolled with nausea. “You stink.” She pushed him back and turned toward the railing.
****
James shifted from one leg to the other in the empty dining room of the Hart home.
“No.” She held the steaming cup of tea in her hands. She could hear her mother and sister-in-law moving about the kitchen.
He growled and ran his hand through his hair. “Why not?” He paced the smooth wooden floor. His jaw began to tick.
“Look at me, James.” She waved her hand across the swollen body. “I don’t even walk over to see Davis and Vera. They live next door. Do you think I want to travel by train across half a dozen states?”
“But Tamsyn, George and Abigail want you at their wedding.”
“I am very sorry, but I will not be there.” She sipped the tea. Lavinia made the best chamomile tea.
“In Boston you could have a real doctor. Not a half-trained midwife.”
Dishes clattered in the kitchen.
“You have done it now,” she smirked.
“Done what?”
Sharp footsteps hurried out of the kitchen. “Half-trained midwife?” Lavinia stood in the archway between the rooms with her hands placed on her hips.
James straightened.
“My brother may not have gone to your fancy medical school in Boston, but he is not some half-trained midwife.” Lavinia glared at him.
“Your brother is a doctor?”
“And served on the field, same as you.” Lavinia stared up at him her jaw working.
“I apologize.” James offered a jerky nod.
“Oh, I’m not done.” Lavinia took a threatening step toward him. “I want you to know if it were up to me I would have tossed you out onto your ass the moment you stepped onto the porch.”
James looked to Tamsyn for help. “Lavinia, it’s all right.”
He needed to fear Lavinia far more than he needed to fear Davis.
“Don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do,” Lavinia ordered. “And I know you don’t want to go back to Boston.”
Upstairs the baby cried out. Lavinia moved toward the stairs and her son.
Tamsyn waited until Lavinia was gone. She’d heard her mother slip out the back door.
Gone to have her nightly smoke, no doubt.
“I don’t belong in Boston.” Her hand rested on her belly.
“If it’s because of Hester, we can arrange to stay somewhere else.”
She sighed.
“Tamsyn…”
“Stop. No more.” She pushed herself away from the table and stood awkwardly. “I don’t wish to hear anything further.” She turned her back on him and smiled. “You can sleep on the sofa in the parlor.” She left him in the dining room while she hurried to take the stairs.
“You didn’t answer my question earlier.”
His voice slid over her ears. Rough and smooth all at the same time. “And what question was that?”
“I asked you to marry me.” His voice was deep. Rugged. Masculine.
“No, you didn’t.” She kept her back turned to him. “There was never a question. There was an order. Marry you and go back to Boston. I’m not one of your soldiers.”
She continued up the stairs. Davis had been kind enough to move a rocking chair into the room. She pulled the blanket off her bed and walked to the chair. Davis had situated it next to the window so she could look out over the mountains behind the house. She didn’t bother changing into her night dress. It wouldn’t be the first night she’d sat awake through the night and stared out the window.
She rubbed soothing circles over her stomach. She dropped down into the rocking chair and placed the quilt on her lap.
At least, this time, I have something new to think about.
****
James rested his chin on his palms. He’d shaved before he left Boston. Now, the stubble itched. He slipped out of the house just as the sky started to brighten in the east. The morning air was chilled but humid, and James found himself fascinated as the sky lightened and pink stripes reached across the sky.
He felt for the train ticket, still tucked into his jacket pocket. The train was scheduled to depart at mid-morning. If he planned on returning to Boston today he would need to leave soon. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I can’t leave her here. But I can’t force her to go either.
When the sun started to peek over the mountain he heard the door creak behind him.
“Good morning,” he called.
“Oh, I didn’t realize anyone was awake.” Mrs. Hart stopped short. The door closed behind her.
His gaze flickered over the poised older woman. She clutched a pipe and a packet of tobacco in her hand.
“Sleep proved difficult.”
“As it should,” Mrs. Hart said. “Are you returning to Boston today, then?”
Mrs. Hart moved to the railing where she stuffed her tobacco into the pipe while she waited for his answer.
“I can’t leave without her.”
“She made it c
lear last night she doesn’t intend to leave with you.” Mrs. Hart lit the pipe and took a deep puff. “Don’t think for one moment, Mr. Steele, I will allow you to bully or force her onto a train.”
“How can she refuse to go with me?” he growled back with soft anger.
Mrs. Hart cast him a sharp and disapproving glare.
“I love her. She’s carrying my child.” He softened his voice. “How can she refuse?”
“Try this, Mr. Steele.” Mrs. Hart offered him her pipe.
Not wanting to offend her, he accepted the pipe reluctantly.
“Go on, try it.”
He put the tip of the pipe in his mouth.
“Tamsyn said your mother blends her own coffee.” Mrs. Hart smiled. “I would like to try it one day.”
“This is good,” he said with surprise. The earthy flavor of the tobacco mixed with something else. Something fruitier. He passed the pipe back to her.
“Have you told her?” Mrs. Hart puffed again.
“Told her what?”
“That you love her.” Mrs. Hart puffed casually. Her eyes seemed to search the mountain top in front of the house.
He opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped it closed. He’d not told her he loved her.
“If you intend to go back to Boston, Mr. Steele, you should be on that train today.” Her eyes roamed the horizon. “The weather is about to change and you may find yourself stuck here.”
****
James stared down at the tiny baby in his arms. Swaddled in a blanket his mother sent just after Christmas, the baby slept.
“James,” Tamsyn’s voice called to him, dry and exhausted.
His gaze fell on her. She pulled the baby from her breast. He smiled. The baby’s eyelids fluttered but settled back in a well nourished slumber.
“Yes, my love?”
“Can you put the babies in the cradle?” she croaked, her voice hoarse from labor. He moved to the side of the bed where the cradle sat waiting and laid the oldest of his daughters down first.
Rose. She came screaming into the world just after midnight, crowned by a blazing tuft of bright red hair. He smiled and touched the hair.
Abigail will love it.
He moved to lift his second born from Tamsyn’s arms. Tamsyn’s deep breathing told him she slept. He turned his gaze on the small newborn in his hands.