Myles's eyes opened, squinting in the lantern's glow. His face turned ashen as recognition rippled through him. "You! Oh, God, how—"
"No, don't say it!" A finger was pressed against Myles's trembling lips as the man rushed on. "Don't let on you know me. They'd kill me for sure. Just listen carefully. When I heard about the escape plan, realized it was you they were going to break out, I knew Julie had to be behind it somehow. I insisted on coming along, and I'm going to stick by you and see that no harm comes to you."
"I never would have let them take Julie," he went on miserably, "but I was outnumbered. If I'd tried to stop them, we might have all been killed. So this is the only way. Just pretend you don't know me, and once you're strong, we'll get away and find her. I swear it."
He gave Myles a shake. "Do you understand all that I'm saying? Will you pretend you don't know me and keep your mouth shut?"
"Hey!" An impatient voice boomed from above. "You going to take all night? Lift that bag o' bones and let's get the hell out of here!"
"I'm coming!"
"Well, get the lead out, Carrigan! You're the one who insisted on coming along!"
"Yes, yes," he nodded feebly. "I can do it."
Yes, Lieutenant Thomas Carrigan thought silently, I did insist on coming, and by God, you bastards will rue the day you brought me!
He lifted Myles in his arms, shocked that the man felt as light as a child. "Let's go, cousin," he whispered tremulously. "We've a long road ahead, but we'll make it... together."
Chapter 24
Ice pelted the hotel window as Julie stared down at the silent, shadowy Washington streets. Running trembling hands up and down her arms, she knew she should do something about making a fire in the grate, but despite the chill, she could not move. She was overwhelmed by all that had taken place in the past three days. Gordon had insisted they keep moving north, despite the terrible weather, saying he would feel safe only when they crossed Union lines. She questioned him constantly about what he planned to do with her, but received no answer.
He was furious with her because she wanted to change her mind, but couldn't he understand why she didn't want to leave Myles after she saw his condition, saw how close to death he really was? How could she have known what her reaction would be when she saw him? She had no idea he would be so frail... so emaciated.
She had offered Gordon the family heirlooms, safely buried back in Savannah, if only he would reunite her with Myles and let her go. And he laughed at her! Then she tried talking to the two men who accompanied them; Luther, who despite his brawny, brash exterior seemed to have an underlying gentle quality; and Veston, who frightened her with his filthy talk and eyes that seem to undress her. But neither would tell her anything, not where Myles was being taken, or where she was being forced to go. She knew only that she was in Washington, and Gordon intended for her to work for the Yankees.
God, she shuddered at the thought. At the time she had agreed to go with him, she'd been desperate. Now she could look back and see how foolish she had been. Myles was still a captive, as far as she knew.
She whirled at the sound of her door being unlocked, and her heart sank at the sight of Gordon. She would have preferred seeing Luther, who had brought food to her since their arrival two days earlier. He, at least, could be quite pleasant.
Gordon bowed slightly, giving her an arrogant smile. "My darling, you look stunning tonight."
She knew he was only being nasty. Her hair was brushed down, long and straight, and she wore only a woolen robe that Luther had procured for her from one of the hotel maids. It looked frightful, and so did she, but she certainly didn't care.
Turning back to the window, she did not acknowledge his remark.
"We're really going to have to do something about your wardrobe," he commented, walking to the fireplace to throw more logs onto the dying flames. "We can't take you back to Richmond looking so frowsy. What man would want you? And remember, we're after important men—officers of high rank."
"What makes you think I'm going back to Richmond and do your dirty work?" she snapped, still staring at the sleet glazing the window. "I'm not budging from this room till I know where you've taken Myles. And I've no intention of becoming a spy for you. I was vulnerable when we made our bargain, and you were well aware of that fact. You took advantage of me."
"Oh, did I now?" He sounded amused. "Really, Julie, you can be so childish at times, despite the fact that you are a devastatingly beautiful woman. You knew what you were doing when you made your promise to me, and you should know by now that I have every intention of holding you to your word. Why do you want to cause everyone an inconvenience by being so stubborn?"
"You wait a minute!" she shouted angrily, turning to face him. "You never said anything about being a damn Yankee till after you'd gotten Myles out of prison. And I never said anything about working for the Federal government. You seem to forget I'm a southerner, sir, and proud of it, and I'll never lift a finger against the Confederacy."
"Now, then!" He got to his feet, satisfied that the fire was going well. "I think it is time that we discussed the arrangements."
"You may discuss anything you want, but my mind is made up. I want to be taken to my brother." She turned back to the window.
He went on as though she had not spoken. "Tomorrow we shall have you fitted with a wardrobe suitable for a lovely, talented young lady who will be traveling about entertaining the poor Rebel soldiers with her sweet voice. Once that is done, you and Luther and Veston will start on your little tour.
"Luther is quite a gifted guitarist," he went on, moving to stand directly behind her but making no move to touch her. "He will accompany you when you sing. Veston will more or less serve as your driver, but he will be the one who will relay the information to me that you get out of your men friends."
"Men friends!" She spat out the words, whirling about to face him with glaring eyes. "Do you really think I'm going to be your—your whore?"
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Now, Julie, don't be so dramatic. Have I asked you to be my whore? I explained everything to you, how you will be taught to drug the men you take to your bed. If you don't want to make love to them, you don't have to. You can get the information you need, they will fall asleep, and the next morning you can tell them what wonderful lovers they were. Everyone will be satisfied.
"Believe me," he went on, "I have several young ladies working for me, and they are quite satisfied with their situations."
"Well, how your other 'young ladies' feel is of no concern to me," she blazed, "because I have no intention of going along with your filthy scheme. The very first chance I get, I intend to expose you for what you are—"
Suddenly he reached out to clamp strong hands upon her shoulders, giving her a backward shove that sent her reeling onto the bed. Stunned, she could only stare at him in terror as he unleashed his fury. "You little bitch! You'll do whatever I tell you to do, and you'll keep your goddamned mouth shut, because the first time you open it when you aren't told to, that half-dead brother of yours will be put in his grave. We made a bargain. I kept my end of it, and you'll do the same with yours. Now I don't intend to listen to any more from you, is that understood?"
When she did not—could not—answer, he reached out and clasped the front of her robe, pulled her inches from the bed, and whispered harshly, "I asked you a question, dammit, and you're going to learn to obey me. Do you understand?"
Her whisper was barely audible, hissed between angrily clenched teeth. "Yes, I quite understand you, you bastard!"
The play of a smile was on his lips as he released her, moved to an erect position, and stared down at her with half-closed lids. "I think," he murmured, starting to unbutton his shirt, "that it's time you learned a lesson, my pretty lady. I'm going to teach you the only thing a woman is really good for, and you'll most likely beg for more and more. I like to hear my women plead for it...."
"You're out of your filthy mind!" She was on her feet a
nd screaming, running for the door to beat upon it with both fists, not caring who heard.
He was right behind her, tearing at her robe, yelling at her to be quiet. "I'll make it rough for you... you'll make me hurt you—"
The door opened so quickly that it struck Julie across her face, and she fell backwards onto the floor. Through a haze of pain, she saw Luther rushing in, gun drawn. "What the hell is going on—" and then he saw Julie and reached down to lift her into his arms. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, then whipped about to face Gordon furiously. "What did you do to her?"
"Stay out of this!" Gordon snarled.
"The hell I will!"
"You seem to forget I'm your commanding officer—"
"And you seem to forget I don't give a shit. I said I'd go along with using her as a spy, but dammit, that didn't include you treating her like she was your woman and using her like you would a whore."
Gordon was livid with rage. "Luther, I'm not going to put up with this."
"Then you'd better find somebody else to play your goddamn guitar, because I'm not having any part of it." His anger was equally fired.
Gordon took a deep breath, then let it out slowly as he tried to get hold of himself. "Very well" he said tightly. "You win. For now. But sooner or later, I'll get what I want."
"Not while I'm around, you won't." Luther was struggling to keep from smashing his fist into Gordon's face. Fox might be his commanding officer, but Luther'd never liked the damn bastard.
"That," Gordon smiled, "can be taken care of, Luther. I can have you transferred elsewhere."
"You won't, because you need me."
"In that case, our day will come, and we'll settle our differences then." He buttoned his shirt, then walked out and slammed the door behind him.
Luther turned to Julie with a gentle expression on his face. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked softly.
She nodded shakily, still frightened. "Thank you, Luther. If you hadn't come when you did..." She shuddered to think of what would have happened.
"I was close by, figuring he'd try something." He reached inside his coat and brought out a bottle. "Here. Drink this. You look like you could use it. It'll make you relax."
She tipped it to her lips, drank, then coughed as the liquid burned in her throat. Luther walked over and sat down next to the fireplace. "Maybe you can get some sleep if you drink enough of that. I'll sit here with you, if it'll make you feel better. And don't worry. I'm not going to touch you."
Julie went to her bed and sat down uneasily. She found him handsome, in a rugged, coarse sort of way. His hair was a cross between red and blond, and his eyes were deep blue. But there were lines in his face that made him appear older than she guessed him to be. It was obvious he'd led a rough-and-tumble kind of life, and she found it strange that he could be so gentle with her.
"I'm a soldier, too, Julie," he spoke quietly. "Maybe not like the others, because I'm considered part of the secret service, like Fox. But he is my commanding officer, and I take orders from him. I was pretending to be a Reb, and that's how I got assigned to Libby, like Fox wanted."
"Yet you stood up to him just now," she murmured, awed.
He grinned, and suddenly he didn't look so rough anymore. "Yeah—well, I do that now and then, and he really hates my guts for it. I figure sooner or later along the line we're going to have one hell of a fight. I'll be ready for it. He's a sharp one, though."
"He's vile and vicious, and he still holds my brother prisoner," she cried, blinking back tears.
Luther gestured helplessly. "That's the way it is, honey. This is war. I hate it as much as you do, but—" He paused to take a breath, then murmured, "Look, you're upset, and you've got a right to be. Why don't you just drink some more of that stuff and maybe you'll go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."
She shook her head but took another swallow. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to talk. "He said he'd have Myles killed if I don't do as he says."
"He probably will. It won't be so bad if you do what he wants. I'll be around to try and make things easy."
Julie continued to sip from the bottle, and soon her voice was slurring, eyelids growing heavy. As the bottle slipped from her fingers, Luther reached to take it away before it fell to the floor. "I'm not going to touch you, Julie," he said with tenderness as he laid her down and pulled a blanket up to tuck beneath her chin. "I'm going to sit here next to you and make sure nobody bothers you—this night, at least."
She groped for his hand gratefully, and he squeezed her tiny fingers as she looked up at him once more to smile and whisper, "Thank you, Luther... thank you for being my friend."
He sat there for a long time, staring down at her. Dammit, he'd never let himself go soft for any woman before. He'd had his share, but he couldn't remember ever feeling quite this way. Hell, he felt sorry for her. He wanted to yank those covers off and strip her naked, and Lord, he knew it would be good. But something was stopping him. Pity. Dammit, he'd never felt pity for anybody or anything, so why in hell was he starting now, in the middle of a goddamn war? Maybe it was because she wasn't like the others. They didn't have to be coaxed into doing their job for Fox. Some of them even went ahead and slept with the men they lured to their beds, even after they drugged them and got what information they needed out of them. They seemed to enjoy it.
But this one, he knew, would never submit willingly.
She might be tiny and delicate, and maybe physically she couldn't fight back, but she'd never give in. She'd fight with every ounce of strength she had in her.
She stirred, moaned, whispered a name he could not make out. He leaned forward, wanting to hear, but there was a sharp rap on the door and then the sound of Veston's belligerent voice. Luther didn't answer. He kept staring at Julie, feeling the pounding of his heart and cursing himself for the emotions that were starting to smolder within, despite his determination that he wouldn't let himself feel anything for her.
"You gonna open this door or you want me to bust it down?"
Luther's head jerked up. Slowly he got to his feet and walked to the door. As soon as his hand fastened on the knob and the click of the lock could be heard, Veston was pushing his way into the room. He looked at Julie, then grinned nastily. "Already finished, huh? Well, it's my turn now."
Luther quickly positioned himself between Veston and Julie's bed. Grimly he pronounced, "You aren't going to touch her."
"Are you kidding me?" Veston's eyebrows were raised in surprise above eyes glimmering with desire. "We always break in the good-lookin' ones. What'd you do to her, anyway? How come she's asleep?" He threw back his head and laughed tauntingly. "Puttin' your women to sleep these days, eh, Luther?"
"I said you are not going to touch her."
"Hey—" he drawled, stiffening. "You aren't kidding, are you? What the hell's going on?"
"I gave her some whiskey to make her relax so she'd fall asleep."
Veston twisted his mouth thoughtfully, then took a step forward. "I'm going to have me some—"
Luther reached quickly for the knife he always carried. The blade glimmered and sparkled in the glow from the fire in the grate, but its radiance was dim compared to the heat glowering in his eyes as he warned, "I'm not letting you near her, so get the hell out of here!"
Veston looked from the knife to Luther's eyes. "Fox is gonna hear about this."
"That's fine. I've already had a run-in with him about her."
"He'll kill you."
"No he won't. He needs me." Luther sounded quite confident. "You see, I'm going to keep a watch over her. I'm going to try to keep as much misery from touching her as I can. That's the least I can do. She isn't like the others, and that's why you and Fox can't have her."
Veston stared at him, stunned for a moment, and then he laughed. "Well, I'll be danged. Am I hearing right? You, of all people—one of the biggest, hell-raisin' fuckers I ever messed around with, standing here tellin' me you're going to watch over that fine piec
e of woman flesh like she was your very own—"
Luther could have told him that he did indeed wish she were his own. But he knew he'd said enough. The point had been made. There would be a reckoning with Fox later, and he'd face that when the time came. "I think," he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "that you'd better just get the hell on out of here."
"Sure," Veston snorted, moving toward the door. "Ain't no woman worth fightin' for, but you sure beat everything I ever seen."
When Veston had gone, Luther put his knife away and sat back down. Julie slept deeply for awhile, and then she would twist from side to side, crying out as though reliving some horrible nightmare. He would reach out and stroke her face or smooth her silky black hair back from her forehead as he spoke to her in gentle, soothing tones. He would tell her she was safe, that he was there and would watch over her. After awhile, she would drift into peaceful slumber once again.
He was still sitting there when dawn tried to break through the thick snow clouds and light struggled to creep into the room. He had not once dozed, wanting to be alert should Julie cry out in terror again. Fox had not returned, and Luther was relieved. Another confrontation might awaken her, and he knew she needed to sleep as long as possible. The road ahead was not going to be easy for her.
"You're still here...."
He glanced up to see that she was awake and staring at him intently.
"Yeah, I wanted to make sure you slept all right," he told her. "Veston came, but I ran him off. You had a restless night. I wanted to help if I could."
"Why did you stay? What do you want of me?"
He shrugged. "I know you don't trust me. It's something I can't explain. There's just something about you that makes me feel you need protecting. I don't know how much I can do for you, but I aim to hang around and do my damnedest." He gave her a lopsided grin which he hoped put her at ease.
She lifted her chin a little. Despite his apparent attempt at friendship, and the way he had saved her from Gordon Fox the night before, he was still one of "them." Her voice was cold. "I can take care of myself."
This Rebel Heart Page 35