Dream Shadow

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Dream Shadow Page 16

by Mary Wine


  “Meaning what?” Grace asked.

  “Just that you must be one of the toughest women I’ve ever met. Half the men here are scared to death of you. Not Brice, he’s eating it up,” Beth informed her.

  “Now you’re having me on,” Grace scoffed. “I doubt there is anyone here who’s afraid of me.”

  “Believe what you like, but my dad runs the only feed store in the county, and I hear everything at that counter. One of the more colorful tales making the rounds is that you are having a wild time with both those men out at Brice’s place.”

  Grace choked on that one. Beth reached out to pat her on the back.

  “A little off the mark?” Beth asked her.

  “Extremely. My experience with the opposite sex is limited to Brice.”

  Beth stopped what she was doing and stared at her for a time.

  “You aren’t joking? Brice is your first?” she asked. “You’ve got to be one tough lady if you kept all those guys you work with out of your pants.”

  Grace suddenly felt very exposed. She stopped chopping and laid the knife down.

  “Don’t be upset with me. Sometimes I wish that I had held out longer. Seems sad that I wasted myself on some guy that didn’t appreciate me. No, he just wanted to say he’d gotten the general’s daughter. It was never really about me.”

  Grace looked at Beth’s blue eyes. She’d never really thought about her virginity one way or the other. The girl in front of her found it a reason to respect her. Grace smiled as she picked her knife back up. “I believe you summed it up nicely at the hospital.”

  “I did?”

  Grace raised a grin toward Beth. “‘Men are thick’,” she quoted.

  Beth giggled as she turned back to their dinner. “That they are, my friend.”

  Grace sat eating with amazement a few hours later. How did Beth turn food into something that tasted this good? If she stuck around her, she was going to gain twenty pounds for sure. She watched as the men who were present heaped compliments on her. Beth was enjoying the attention.

  Jacobs and Brice had sat down at a small table with some other men and were currently engaged in a card game of some sort. Giving Beth a hug, Grace set off for the tent and relief from her binding stays. People were arriving in droves now, and the path was crowded as they carried their belongings up to the camp. Crossing the battlefield, she left them behind.

  The horse corrals came into view next and Grace noted that every single corral was full. Several makeshift ones had also been erected to contain the number of animals that were present. Candle lanterns bled yellow light into the darkness. The conversation of the re-enactors drifted along with the scent of pine on the wind. Someone was playing a fiddle, and the soft sounds of some love ballad filled the air.

  The strong sense of community was insistently pulling at her. Last month it had been easy to stay on the fringes and not allow herself to become too accustomed to the people here. Now it was very different.

  Brice’s words rose from her memory to tempt her with the idea of home and belonging. But it seemed as much of a fantasy as the re-enactment around her. Come Monday morning, it would be only a memory.

  Right now, she wanted out of her corset. How had women worn the things every day of their lives? She was getting much better at maneuvering the petticoats and skirt. She no longer needed to pull the things up when climbing the hills. There was a certain walk that a girl developed that just sent the fabric swishing out of the way of her feet.

  The dark didn’t bother Grace. It had been a source of solitude as long as she could remember. But she wasn’t alone tonight. Several men were clearly keeping an eye on her. The deputies she’d met at Brice’s floated about, but the others were just re-enactors that seemed to think of her as a lady in need of their protection.

  That was almost comical. Great pains had been taken to ensure that she was as rough cut as any grunt. Yet there was just something about the way a man tipped his hat at a girl that made her want to hide some of those edges.

  Now she knew that the corset was indeed causing damage. It was cutting off enough blood flow to her brain to make her go soft. The slightest sign of feminine weakness would have the men of her unit attacking her like a wounded doe. Her gender alone was considered inexcusable.

  Inside her tent, she began to fight with the layers of her historical clothing.

  Her corset was laced down on top of a petticoat. There was a thin chemise under the corset as well. Grace twisted her arms around to her back trying to work the knots of the lacing free.

  She frowned in frustration. Her first corset had laced at the back but also had a row of front hooks that the wearer could use to take the thing off. This corset only had the back laces.

  Grace continued to pick at the knots, but it was very possible she was making a bigger mess of them. She made a low sound of frustration. She really wanted out of the thing. If she didn’t need it for tomorrow, she would simply use Jacobs’s survival knife to cut the front of it open. But she did need it. Another groan issued from her throat.

  “Grace, do you need some help?”

  Grace jumped. That had come from right outside the tent door flap. The deep tones identified it as Brice. She hadn’t expected him to follow so quickly. He repeated his question when she didn’t reply. Grace contemplated the situation for a moment. She did need help. The pain was becoming distracting. Inviting Brice inside to help take her clothes off would not have been her first choice, but he was her only option. Practicality won.

  “Yes, I do.”

  The tent flap moved as Brice ducked under the roof pole and stood up in the center of the tent where the ceiling was higher.

  “I’m stuck in this thing.”

  He nodded in understanding, but she knew Brice didn’t care about the corset.

  “Grace, honey, that’s not a bad thing from my point of view.”

  The look on his face captured her complete attention. She suddenly felt beautiful because his face mirrored uncontrolled desire. She had caused that look to cross his face and Grace experienced a sudden surge of feminine power.

  Closing the distance between their bodies, he lowered his mouth to the inviting cleavage her corset provided him. She sighed as he trailed soft kisses over the delicate flesh, but her body jumped as he grasped her hips.

  “Grace?”

  “I think I’ve had enough of this corset for the day.”

  Brice turned her away from him. Grace dropped her hands in front of her. She felt him start to work at the knots. The close quarters of the tent made her aware of his body heat.

  Her eyes closed with a mental groan as she felt that heat start to make its way up her torso. Her breath tangled inside her lungs again. His scent brought to mind every reckless urge that she’d had while lying in his bed. Her emotions surged against her hold on them. They seeped through cracks in the wall that Grace hadn’t noticed before. The corset slackened and released its hold on her body. Grace couldn’t contain the sigh of relief that escaped her.

  “Was it putting pressure on the wound?” Brice asked softly from behind her. He slid his arm around her waist to rub along her hip line where the bullet had hit her.

  “Umm. Much better.”

  He pulled her body firmly into his.

  “Agreed,” he muttered against her neck.

  He gently pressed his lips to the soft curve of her neck. A slight tremor started to shake her. His mouth descended again to work its way along the column of her throat. He left off rubbing her side to slowly travel up her ribs to the soft mound of her breast. He softly circled his thumb around the beaded nipple as she arched herself, offering the flesh up for his touch.

  She felt her last layer of control shred. Her body demanded more of his and she was not going to deny the request. Why had she never noticed how sensitive her breasts were? His warm hand almost burned her, and the simple touch of that single finger was causing her nerve endings to pulse with a tempo that was both foreign and deeply r
ecognizable. She reached behind her to find his strong thighs. She spread her fingers and gripped the muscles that were covered by his wool pants.

  Releasing her breast, Brice turned her to face him and firmly settled his mouth onto hers. He moved her lips with his, tasting and sliding the smooth surfaces together.

  Grace followed his lead and moved her body closer to his. He jerked as she pressed her hips up against his aroused flesh. The first time she had felt his erect staff it had scared her. Now, she absorbed it as proof of her own attractiveness.

  Boldness streaked along her veins, and Grace laid her hand over his hip. Spreading her fingers, she trailed them until the pulsing staff of that erection was right under her palm. She curled her fingers around him and delighted in his harsh groan. Making him respond to her touch was addictive.

  His mouth schooled hers as passion burned her body. He returned his hand to her breast as Grace felt his staff throb under her hand. She wanted so much more, but she suddenly thought about just where she was. Jacobs could come in at any moment.

  “Brice, we can’t do this.”

  The man growled, low and deep. The sound left no doubt in her mind that he wasn’t in the mood to be put off.

  “Why do you always say something that your body disagrees with?” He sounded like he was on the edge of violence.

  “Jacobs sleeps here too.” Grace watched her words sink in. Brice shifted his eyes over the twin cots that were separated by less than four feet. A low curse slipped out of his mouth.

  Extending his hand, he offered it palm up to her. “Come with me.

  Grace knew exactly what he wanted, and she was in the mood to yield it to him. “With everyone watching? Your people are out there too.”

  She would vanish like the morning mist in forty-eight hours. “Using you to fill the void in my life isn’t right, Brice.”

  Brice Campbell deserved better. Grace would never chain such a man to her memory.

  Because she would be just a memory to him by next week.

  “I don’t give a damn who’s out there watching. I’ve adjusted to that part of your life Grace,” Brice growled. “Now it’s your turn to do some adjusting. Stop bunking like a grunt and admit you’d like a little bit more out of life.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Brice shrugged. “I never said it was, but until you buck the system, don’t expect it to change. When you get tired of everyone else running your life, you know where my tent is.” Brice shouldered his way under the tent flap. “I’ll be waiting for you, Grace.”

  The words were more stunning than a blow. Grace stumbled under their weight. She slapped her hand over her mouth to hold back the cry that came out in response.

  Grace sank onto her cot and pulled her legs up to her chest. Tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. She felt. She felt so much. Her walls lay in crumbled heaps and she simply felt relief.

  Grace considered everything that she had been formed into, yet she had still managed to become her own person. The military could impress skills onto her body and mind, but she was still the person she was born to be. Life was just out there waiting for her, and Grace knew it was time to embrace it. Feeling meant hurting, but shutting everything out had simply left her empty.

  The slight crunching sounds of gravel alerted her to someone’s approach. The tent flap moved as Jacobs ducked into the tent. He flung his jacket down with barely controlled fury. He turned in the darkness and froze.

  Jacobs knelt in front of her cot, bringing him eye level with her. He was absolutely motionless as he regarded her. He reached out and traced the wet tracks of her tears with his thumbs. She let him. He slowly shook his head as she let him stroke her face again. Fresh tears spilled and he caught them, and she let him.

  Grace reached forward and rubbed her hands along the sides of his face. The gesture had once been a sign of the caring friendship that she held for him, this man that shared so much of her life. The touch that she reserved only for him had been this, simply to rub both hands along his jaw line for a moment or two. Grace couldn’t remember having done it in the last two years. She caught the tear that escaped the corner of his eye. Just one. The only one she had ever seen him shed.

  “Hi, Gracie,” he whispered in the dark, “I’ve missed you.”

  “I know,” she answered as she slid her hands up and over his. He captured them in his own. “I’m sorry.”

  Jacobs squeezed her hands a moment longer before he stood up. “See that it doesn’t happen again.”

  Grace watched Jacobs as he moved around the tent. He stripped out of his uniform, folded and stacked everything away neatly. He settled down on his cot in a pair of fatigue pants. Her own frustration was still gnawing away at her insides. After studying him for a time, Grace decided he was suffering from the male version of the same feelings. A slight laugh escaped her. Jacobs looked over at her, a question brimming in his eyes.

  “We are truly the most pathetic creatures on the planet,” she informed him.

  Jacobs watched her for a moment before his mouth turned up in a smile.

  “There are times I think about drinking, and this is one of them.”

  Jacobs laughed. “Except you never drink.” He reached into the folded coat pocket and produced a small metal flask that contained some very old, very smooth scotch. “Fine, you think about it and I’ll do it.”

  She laughed softly again as Jacobs raised the flask in a salute to her before he downed a swallow. She pressed her emotions down because this was the way it would be. Jacobs would follow orders and so would she. There simply wasn’t any other way for her to live her life. She was a psychic and Brice was a civilian. Even as a sheriff, he was too far removed from the military world she lived in.

  It was a border that could not be breached.

  Dawn invaded the tent and Grace forced herself to rise. She had promised to help Beth with making breakfast and knew that the other women would be up with the sun. Jacobs looked like a large disgruntled bear. Grace didn’t bother him other than to have him lace her corset into place. As she left the tent, she heard him start to pull on his own outfit.

  Grace stood for a moment breathing in the fresh morning air. The sun’s warmth was already chasing the chill of the night away. Movement caught her eye and she turned to see Brice standing in the corral with Cole. He was saddling the horse. Grace watched him for a time. Her eyes soaked up the image of him. She knew she would carry it with her forever. He gave her a slightly pained expression, causing her to stifle her giggles. Now she knew who had given the scotch to Jacobs.

  Grace hurried off to the Yankee camp to join Beth. A black-powder explosion rent the air and Grace couldn’t contain a giggle. The cannons exploded next and she laughed out loud.

  “What’s funny?” Beth demanded.

  Grace grinned at Beth. “I happen to know that a couple of guys split a bottle of scotch last night in our honor. I imagine right now, they just might be thinking some very ugly thoughts about us.”

  Beth started to laugh. She laughed so hard she was holding her sides.

  “Jason just seemed so angry when he left last night. I thought he wasn’t interested.”

  Grace didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Jacobs wanted to sleep with you but we’re out of here tomorrow at dawn? Better to let Beth think it just wasn’t working out.

  The last battle of the day had finished almost an hour ago. Sunday afternoon was half over, but Beth had yet to put dinner over the fire and Grace was beginning to wonder why. She normally had something cooking at all times. Yet she had even let the fire die.

  “Come on, time to make our escape,” Beth informed her.

  Grace gave the girl a questioning look. “What are we escaping from?”

  “It’s bathing day, or I guess take-a-skinny-dip-in-the-lake day might be a better definition of it.” Beth continued to explain as she hurried Grace up the walkway and around the lower edge of the battlefield. Grace noticed that most of the wo
men were following their example. “As soon as the battles finish the men head for the lake.”

  Beth winked at her. “I hope you ate well at lunch, because the men cook on Sunday night.”

  “So what do we do if any of those guys stick around past their time?” Grace decided to ask.

  “No one’s tried it in some time, but if we catch them, we make them walk the gauntlet.”

  “Wait a minute. Out of all of these guys, no one tried to take a peek? And they have the first hour to pick out a good hiding place?” Grace challenged.

  “It’s an honor thing.”

  “Oh right.” She walked along with Beth. “It’s a far better bet that none of you know how to track worth a nickel.”

  Beth offered her a wicked grin. “It always livens things up when we do catch a few peeping Toms. I wouldn’t say no to a little instruction on the art of tracking.”

  “We need to stop by my tent,” Grace informed her.

  Beth grinned and led the way.

  Grace hurried into her tent to grab a few things. She emerged and they started up the hill. After spending the last twenty-four hours cooking over a fire pit, the idea of being clean was very enticing.

  The women didn’t hesitate a second before they flung off their cumbersome dresses. Petticoats and corsets were dropped over any available rock. They jumped into the lake water and shrieked as they plunged in.

  Grace had pulled the pins from her hair and unbraided it before she dove into the water. Bathing itself was quick and efficient. Grace just didn’t know how to linger over the process. She was back on shore within fifteen minutes.

  She took a moment to put her clothing back on before climbing up onto a rock. She began to pull a brush through her hair. Even wet, she twisted it into a braid and began pinning it back to the top of her head. As soon as she was finished, she took a small pair of field binoculars out and began to scan the forest. Beth crawled up beside her.

 

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