Memphis

by Sara Orwig

  “If they know I printed The Loyal Memphian, they must know about my press. Did he say?”

  “No. I think we should get off the road and go across country. You follow me.” He moved in the lead and veered west, thinking if they could ride along the river, they might find a boat that would take them south.

  The next day they rode into the small river town of Chestnut Grove. Caleb learned it was still a Confederate town and within the hour he boarded the horses with the blacksmith until he could come back and claim them. Then he took Sophia to a small one-story hotel near the river where he registered them as husband and wife and was shown to a room.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to look at him. “Caleb, I can’t stay here with you.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said. “Porters will be right back, because I ordered a tub of hot water so we can bathe. It may be hours or a day before I can find a boat going south that will be safe, so you might as well wait in comfort.”

  “Do they think I’m your wife?” she asked, blushing.

  He tried to bite back his amusement as he reached for her. “Yes. This may be our last time alone. When we get to New Orleans, we’ll be with my family and we won’t be alone, and then I have to get back to fighting. I’m going down to the dock and ask questions about steamboats. You bathe or whatever you want.”

  She frowned and he caught her chin. “No worries now,” he said softly.

  She nodded, and he kissed her until he heard a rap on the door.

  Minutes later Caleb told her goodbye and closed the door. She looked at the tin tub with steaming water and unbuttoned her dress, thankful to sink down in the hot water.

  She washed her hair and then climbed out to dry. Then she washed her clothes, hanging them on the window ledge to dry. She opened the valise and pulled out a cotton chemise and a wrinkled blue muslin dress, shaking out her clothes and remembering Caleb throwing them inside while they argued.

  She heard the door and Caleb entered. “There may be a boat in two hours,” he said.

  Dressed all in black, he was rumpled, dusty, his curls a tangle and a dark stubble on his jaw, yet he looked appealing. This man had become so important to her, so much a part of her life. His gaze lowered, and she tingled as he came toward her. Her pulse raced when Caleb reached out to slide his hand around her waist and draw her to him.

  “We have to get farther away from Memphis, love,” he said softly, looking down at her. “Otherwise, I’d like to keep you here for days. The risk is too great though, and we better be at the wharf in two hours to catch the boat.” His gaze drifted over her face while she ran her fingers over his shoulders. “You smell sweet and you’re clean and I’m dusty. I’ll bathe,” he said, brushing her cheek with a kiss and turning away.

  He unbuttoned and pulled off his shirt, the muscles rippling beneath his coppery skin. He unbuckled his belt, dropping it on the floor, and unbuttoned his pants to pull them off. When he glanced at her, she walked toward him languidly, feeling hot as she unfastened her dress. In minutes she was in the water with him, his strong body wet, slippery and warm. He settled her on him, his hands cupping her full breasts as he leaned forward to kiss her.

  Two hours later she waited on the wharf while Caleb talked to the steamboat captain. In spite of her losses, she felt a tremor of excitement. She had never been on a steamboat, never been anywhere away from Memphis and Germantown and Shiloh. She looked at Caleb standing in the sunlight talking to the captain. Caleb’s hat sat squarely on his head, hiding his brown curls. Her gaze ran down his lean form and long legs and she knew she was indebted to him for helping her even if it wasn’t what she had wanted to do. In minutes he motioned to her and came striding down the plank to pick up her valise and take her arm. “We’re passengers. We’ll be in New Orleans tomorrow.”

  “New Orleans is held by the Union. How can we get into town when you’re wanted?”

  “We’ll get off upriver and I’ll get horses. I know how to get to Rafe’s without being discovered. New Orleans is a seaport city with crowds, and we’ll be far from Tennessee. There won’t be posters with my picture all over town.”

  She gazed up into his green eyes, remembering his determination that morning in the barn when he had picked up Will and carried him to the wagon. She smiled at him and placed her hand in his, knowing that she could trust him to get them to New Orleans. His brows arched and his warm fingers locked around hers, giving her hand a squeeze.

  She stood at the rail as the whistle gave a blast and water churned and they moved away from the small dock. She could see the hotel and she felt as if she were leaving another part of her life behind. Soon Caleb would leave her to go back to war. She glanced up at him. He stood with his arm touching her, his profile to her. His jaw was clean shaven now, curls showing beneath his hat that he had pushed back on his head. The thought of parting with him was as terrifying as giving up her home. How had this man become so much of her life? What would she feel about him after a long separation? What would she feel for him if times were normal? Were her feelings influenced by the turbulent circumstances? She didn’t know the answers, but she couldn’t bear to part with him. She placed her hand on his arm and he looked down at her, his green eyes darkening.

  “Come here, love. We’ll go to our cabin.” He led her to a small cabin and closed the door and dropped the valise, pulling her to him. “I have you to myself for just a little while longer.”

  “Caleb, your family may not want me,” she said, new worries surfacing.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Amity and Darcy already know you.”

  “I’d feel better staying somewhere on my own. If there was some way to get my money from Memphis, I—”

  “Sophia, you’re staying with my family. I don’t want to go off to war while you’re alone in the city. Stop worrying, because when you meet them, you’ll like them.” He raised her chin. “Until then, let’s forget families and war and problems,” he said softly, bending his head to kiss her.

  That night as she lay in his arms, she tried to stop worrying about his family. “Caleb?”

  “Yes,” he said, turning locks of her hair in his hand.

  “This is the first time I’ve been on a steamboat. There were so many that stopped at Memphis, but I’ve never ridden one,” she said as she listened to the deep chug of the engine and felt the constant movement of the boat.

  “I want to take you to Ireland, Sophia. It’s beautiful, just like Tennessee. And sometime I’ll take you on a train ride and you’ll see what a wonder they are.”

  His voice was a deep rumble. Her shoulder was against his bare chest and she could feel a slight vibration when he talked. She rolled over to look at him. “If only I could keep you from going to war!” she said, holding him tightly, the cold fear washing over her as she thought about him in battle.

  “Don’t worry. Tonight, I’m here in your arms.” He raised up and looked down at her. “Sophia, love,” he said softly, while she tangled his brown curls around her fingertips, “I wanted to wait until we were in New Orleans where I could take you to some fancy restaurant and buy you something pretty and make it special, but I can’t wait until then. I have to ask you now. Will you marry me?”

  Chapter 16

  Sophia gazed up at him, her heart drumming as she pulled his head down and kissed him long. He finally raised slightly.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked again.

  She caressed his cheek and felt her heart torn between two answers, between reason and love, between what she knew and what she felt. He frowned and raised up higher.

  “Begorra, lass, what’s this? You don’t love me?”

  “Yes, Caleb, I love you,” she said, tracing her finger along his full lower lip.

  “Then why no answer?”

  “Because you’re going to war. I’m away from home. We’re both in desperate times and we’re so terribly different. We can’t go through life fighting.”

  “I have no intention of a
skin’ a woman to marry me so I can fight with her,” he said gruffly, his brogue thickening as he studied her.

  “I think we should wait until the war is over.”

  “Sophia, I love ye and I want ye, and I don’t want to wait. And ye may be carrying our child now. Have ye thought of that?” Caleb asked, frowning. Her damnable independence was coming between them, and it hurt.

  She blinked and he realized she hadn’t given it thought and he wanted to groan. “If ye’re with child, lass, we’re going to a preacher.”

  “I’ll know soon and if I’m not, I think we should wait until the war’s over, Caleb,” she answered solemnly. “You’re rushing into something that you might feel differently about later. And we’re not in ordinary circumstances. And I feel your conscience is making you ask.”

  “Then ye know damned little about me!” he said. “If I ask for ye in marriage, then I love ye and want ye to be my wife.”

  She rolled over, stretching the length of him. “I love you, Caleb O’Brien, and I always will. When you leave me to go to war, I think my heart will break.” She kissed his throat, sliding down to trail kisses to his bare chest, moving off him to continue to kiss and stroke him until he caught her hands and swung her down to lean over her and kiss her, taking her breath and making her pulse pound. He paused and raised up.

  “You’ll be my wife, Sophia. If we love each other, nothing should stand in our way. Not doubts and fears.”

  He kissed her hard, his hands moving over her and Sophia yielded to him, returning his caresses and kisses, feeling her heart burst with love for him and wanting to cry out, “Yes! Yes, Caleb, I will marry you.”

  On Wednesday Sophia felt swamped with uncertainty as she stood beside him at the rail and watched as the boat turned toward a private landing. Caleb shook hands with the captain and jumped to the dock, taking her hand and pulling her alongside him. The captain tossed him the valise, and men came forward across the dock. Approaching them was a tall, thick-chested man with deep brown eyes and graying sideburns.

  “Caleb!” he cried, hugging Caleb and turning to her.

  “Sophia, this is Ormonde Therrie. Ormonde, this is Miss Merrick from Tennessee.”

  “Caleb!” came a cry as a buggy stopped near the dock and Amity Therrie hurried to hug him, her pale green dress rustling, and then she turned. “Miss Merrick!” she said, her dark brown eyes going wide with surprise and she stepped up to hug Sophia.

  “Come up to the house,” Ormonde Therrie said.

  “Hey, Mister O’Brien,” a grinning servant called, and Caleb stopped to greet three men before turning to take Sophia’s arm and walk with them to Amity’s buggy.

  “I want to hear all the news,” Ormonde said.

  “Yes, sir. And then I’d like to get horses from you to ride into town.”

  Ormonde smiled. “I suspect we’ll lose you all too soon. You want to see Rafe and Darcy, I know. Let’s go up to the house.”

  Caleb helped Sophia into the buggy and he sat between Amity and her, taking the reins from Amity.

  “You’re well,” Amity said. “I’m so glad. Will wrote to me that you both stayed near Germantown. He said that’s only a few miles from Memphis.”

  “He’s fine, too, Amity. He plans to come to New Orleans.”

  “Will does? How soon?”

  “I don’t know with the war, but I think soon.”

  “I’m so glad you’re home. Darcy talks about your coming home all the time.”

  As they approached Belle Destin, the Therrie home, Sophia gazed up the slope through the tall oaks at the most magnificent house she had ever seen. Tall columns surrounded the house and the galleries were wide with a fan transom over the front door. She felt more lost by the moment even though Amity seemed warm and friendly. As they entered the wide hall, Caleb held her arm.

  “You must want to freshen up,” Amity said. “You know where your room is Caleb. Sophia, come with me, and I’ll take you to your room. A servant will bring your valise.”

  Amity took her hand and Sophia glanced at Caleb. Before she turned away, he winked and she felt better.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Amity exclaimed. “We’ve been terrified for our home, but so far, the Yankees have left this house alone. Sometimes I think Rafferty may have paid someone to get them to do so, but Papa says he’d have to pay the whole Union army to get that. And that dreadful Butler man! He’s in charge in New Orleans and he is the worst man to ever walk this earth.”

  Sophia relaxed more as Amity talked and realized that Caleb must not have been exaggerating when he said all that was between them was friendship. Amity led her into a large, sunny room filled with pink cushions and a frilly pink counterpane on the canopied bed. The servant placed her valise on the floor.

  Amity’s dark eyes sparkled. “Tell me about Will Stanton! Is he really well? Have you heard him talk about coming to New Orleans?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Sophia said, taking off her bonnet. She looked at Amity whose hairdo was fashionable and whose dress was beautiful. “Miss Therrie—”

  Amity laughed. “You have to call me Amity! I’m so glad Caleb is home. If only you’d brought Will with you.”

  “Amity, would you show me how to comb my hair so it’s—” She felt foolish suddenly, wishing she hadn’t asked. She had just arrived and she was asking her hostess for something quite personal.

  “Your hair? Of course. I’ll get Loretta, and she can do your hair for you. She does mine. And I know you’d probably like to change and freshen up before you come downstairs.”

  Sophia opened the valise and shook out a dress. It was her brown muslin and full of wrinkles. Amity crossed the room and took it from her hands. “Let’s see if you can wear one of my dresses or Chantal’s and we’ll get your dresses pressed.”

  “I don’t want to be so much trouble. I should wear mourning, but I had only one black dress and it didn’t get packed,” she said, remembering Caleb yanking up her things and stuffing them into the valise.

  “That’s no trouble,” Amity said, her eyes sparkling as she studied Sophia. “I never thought I’d see Caleb bring a woman home with him.”

  Sophia blushed, wondering what Amity would think if she knew all the circumstances of their flight from Memphis. “I had to leave Memphis.” She gazed at Amity who looked friendly and curious. “I stabbed a Yankee officer.”

  “Stabbed! Great heaven!”

  “He’ll live. I didn’t kill him. I stabbed him in the shoulder and Caleb—Major O’Brien—thought I would be arrested if I stayed in town.”

  “Stars in heaven, you stabbed a Yankee! Papa will be so pleased with you, Miss Merrick.”

  “You have to call me Sophia,” she said, warming to Amity and thankful to have found a friend. Suddenly she felt tears well up. “You’re so nice. I didn’t want to leave home, but it’s very pleasant here.”

  Amity hugged her. “You’re with friends.” She stepped back. “I’ll get Loretta and we’ll surprise Caleb and then, may I tell Papa what you did?”

  “Oh, please, I’ll be embarrassed and it was terrible—”

  “Papa will think it brave. And wait until Chantal hears. I’ll be right back.” As she left the room, Sophia looked around again, her spirts lifting and her fears diminishing. The Therries were warmhearted, and the house would cheer anyone.

  Two hours later, Sophia stared at her image in the mirror while Amity clapped her hands.

  “You look ravishing and you have to wait until I get downstairs before you come down. I want to watch Caleb when he sees you.”

  “I’m not certain it’s me,” she said, amazed by the transformation Amity and Loretta had wrought. Her hair was turned under behind her head in a full, low chignon with crimped curls over her forehead and braids looped over each ear. Emerald earbobs dangled in her ears and she wore the emerald necklace from Caleb around her neck.

  The dress was a dream. The silk felt marvelous against her skin and the dainty batiste chemise was
a whisper. The dress had a low neck and tiny puffed sleeves with rosebuds and lace against the green silk. She touched her throat and felt daring and unclothed. Never in her life had she worn a dress that didn’t have a neckline covering her collarbones and yet she had to admit, she liked the way she looked. Papa wouldn’t have approved, but Caleb would approve and Amity was delighted. And Sophia loved the dress.

  She moved away from the mirror, and then stepped back for one last look, still amazed she was looking at herself. She left the room and moved to the top of the stairs. Amity and Caleb stood in the hall below and Sophia was certain Amity had brought him there on purpose. She started down the stairs and Caleb turned to look up at her.

  His expression changed to one that she knew—solemn, bold, filled with desire as his gaze lowered and then raised. She forgot Amity standing to one side and then Amity was gone and she was alone with Caleb as she came down the steps and he came forward to meet her.

  “You look beautiful, Sophia,” he said seriously, his voice deep and husky.

  She felt half naked and touched the necklace. “Thank you.”

  Caleb came up a step so she was at eye level. His voice was a whisper. “Right now, I would give a fortune to be alone with you and take that dress off you.”

  She tingled all over, feeling breathless, wanting him.

  “Lord, you’re beautiful, Sophia.”

  “Thank you. You were right. Your family is nice.”

  “Miss Merrick,” Ormonde Therrie said, coming into the hall from outside. Caleb took her arm and they moved forward to meet Ormonde. “Caleb, both of you come into the parlor. I have to hear all the news.”

  “And you have to catch me up on New Orleans,” Caleb said.

  “This is a special occasion. If it weren’t for Rafe’s daring and ingenuity, we’d be suffering more. He gets supplies to us that make me feel ashamed and I think he’s the reason our house still stands. I suspect it would have been burned if it hadn’t been for him. All our neighbors’ houses are gone.”