The Valiant Hearts Romance Collection

by Kristin Billerbeck

  William blinked, confused at the sudden display of affection. “Just for a short while,” he conceded. “However, Miss Permelia, I fully intend to help you and Elijah with the chores.” He wanted to help with the chores.

  Permelia gazed out the window. “Do not concern yourself, William. You and Annie need time to become reacquainted.” Yet, she wouldn’t look at her sister. That, coupled with the palpable tension in the room since her arrival, made William wonder if the noise he’d heard in the foyer last night had been Annie.

  “Besides, Elijah and I are going into town.” Permelia turned to leave.

  The room threatened to grow cold in her absence. “To help at the hospital?” William asked.

  She halted but did not turn around. “I teach Negro children to read and write at the church once a week.” Then she disappeared, the clip of her boots fading down the hallway.

  Annie released his arm and sighed. “Have you ever heard such a thing? A few years ago, a person could be hanged for teaching slaves. Why ever do Negros need to read and write anyway?”

  Dragging the stool to his bedside, William set the lantern atop it and sat on his straw-stuffed mattress. A night breeze wafted through his window, bringing with it a reprieve from the day’s heat and the scent of wild violet and hay. Despite the pleasant evening, William had been unable to fall to sleep. He untied the bundle of letters in his hand and opened the first one. Holding it up to the light, he scanned the elegant pen and sweet words of his precious Annie:

  Dearest William,

  Your last letter brought me great joy as well as deep sorrow. Joy to know that you survived your last battle and sorrow to hear of the death of your friend, Major Mankins. I know how much his good company meant to you, and I grieve alongside you for the loss. May God fill you with His comfort as you continue to fight this senseless war. Know that you are not alone in your suffering. I cry along with you and long for the day when I can cry in your arms. Tears of joy instead of pain.

  You asked how we fared here under the occupation. I suppose now that word has reached you of the fate of Williamsburg I can mention our predicament. I did not wish to burden you with our meager problems when you had so much responsibility weighing upon your shoulders. But let me allay your fears, dear William. The Shaw plantation stands, and we are all well. God’s wings of protection cover us, and in Him we abide.

  Please know you are not alone. God and my love are with you always.

  Oh brave, wise William. You are ever in my heart and prayers…. Annie

  Releasing a heavy sigh, William gently folded the letter and set it on top of the others on his bed. Confusion stormed through him, muddling his thoughts and twisting his heart. Nothing made sense anymore.

  He’d spent the day with Annie. First they’d taken a carriage ride through the country, followed by a lovely picnic beside a creek, and finally ending with afternoon tea in her father’s library.

  And he could find no trace of the kindhearted, humble, godly woman in these letters in the primped, vainglorious Annie.

  Though her attitude toward him had vastly improved.

  Though she seemed more accepting of his appearance.

  Had she always been this way? Or had the war changed her? Perhaps the war had changed him. He dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed his face.

  Even worse, all the while Annie chittered and chattered about this and that, William’s thoughts had been on Permelia. Though Elijah accompanied her into town, he wondered how she fared, what she was doing, whom she spoke to.

  Whether she thought of him.

  And teaching Negro children to read and write. Her kindness astounded him. In all his prior visits to the Shaw plantation, why had he not noticed her? Had he been so dazzled by Annie’s beauty that he’d been blinded to the golden heart within her sister?

  But he had no choice now. He was espoused to Annie. And to break off the engagement would bring irreparable shame to her, not to mention to his family. The Wolfe honor was as solid as the ships they built.

  And just as unsinkable.

  Picking up the letters, he pressed them against his chest. He must set aside his foolish admiration of Permelia and trust that eventually the real Annie would shine forth. Hopefully before he had to leave in two days to report to his commanding officer. He would love to have his engagement settled by then so he could enlist his mother to begin arrangements for the ceremony in New York while he served his remaining months in the army.

  Mind cluttered with these thoughts, William lay back on his bed, arms beneath his head, when the faint whinny of a horse and stomp of hooves wandered over his ears. Odd. He’d helped Elijah secure the two remaining horses in the stables for the night. Unease slithered over him. Shrugging it off to exhaustion, he sat up, tied a cord around the letters, and packed them away in his knapsack. He strode to the window. Wind stirred the leaves of an elm tree, causing them to shiver in an eerie cacophony. Well past midnight, the main house loomed dark and large in the distance.

  Light flickered in an upstairs room.

  William scratched his chin. Who else would be up at this hour?

  Shaking his head, he started back to his bed when a woman’s scream pierced the night.

  An odd sensation crept through Permelia’s slumberous mind, stirring her consciousness. A sensation of danger, of warning. But she didn’t want to wake up. It had taken her far too long to fall asleep after her long day of trying to avoid William and Annie. A scuffing sound prickled her spine. Her stomach complained. Begging off with an excuse of a headache, she’d forsaken her supper, not able to tolerate watching Annie unleash the full flood of her charm and flirtation on William. Knowing it was merely an act to prove to Permelia where William’s true affections lay.

  Permelia sighed, her mind now fully awake. She opened her eyes. Movement focused her gaze to the right. The dark silhouette of a man stood by her bed. A clawlike hand reached for her throat.

  Permelia screamed.

  Skin, thick and scabrous and smelling of tobacco and sweat, slammed over her mouth. She tasted blood and fear. Pain throbbed in her chin, her gums. Her cries for help clumped in her throat. The glint of moonlight on steel revealed a knife in his other hand, floating over her bed like the scythe of the Grim Reaper.

  “Well, if it ain’t the prim and proper Miss Shaw.” His voice spiked with angry sarcasm. “I’m goin’ to take away my hand. If you so much as utter a peep, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

  Lifting a harried prayer to the Lord, Permelia nodded. Blood thundered in her ears. Was this to be her end? A violent death?

  He removed his grip on her mouth, waving the knife before her. His face blurred in the darkness, but she felt his gaze scouring over her. “Yankee lover!” He spat to the side. “Where is that stinkin’ Yankee hiding? Tell me now, or I’ll finish you off in your bed.”

  A thud sounded on the floorboards behind the man, followed by a commanding voice. “Looking for me?”

  Chapter 7

  Relief flooded Permelia at the sound of William’s voice. But terror quickly returned. The intruder swung about, knife clutched in his hand. Moonlight coated William in milky light. He stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest as if he were attending a country ball, not confronting an armed assailant.

  Permelia struggled to sit.

  The man took a step toward William, a sordid chuckle emerging from his lips.

  William spread his arms out. “If it’s me you’re looking for, here I am. Leave the lady be.”

  He carried no weapons. Fear for William’s safety choked Permelia’s sense of self-preservation, sending her leaping from the bed in search of anything with which to strike the man.

  He must have heard her, for he swerved about and grabbed her by the waist.

  “Let me go!” She struggled, trying to pound him with her fists, but he tightened a meaty arm around her chest and arms, pinning her to him.

  He pressed the knife to her throat. Pain pinched her skin. Some
thing warm trickled down her neck.

  William’s confident stance transformed into one of fury. “What do you want?”

  “We want you, Colonel.”

  “We?”

  “Me and the soldiers of the Confederate Seventeenth Infantry Regiment.” His hot breath wafted over Permelia’s neck. “At least those who are left.”

  “And what do you want with me?”

  “We was there. At the Second Manassas. We lost forty-eight men that day. Good men.”

  A flicker of emotion sparked in William’s eyes.

  “Ah yes.” The soldier snickered. “We know you were there, too, commanding your Yanks to slaughter us.”

  William’s jaw hardened. “We were all forced to do our duty that day, sir. The war is over.” He gestured with his hand. “Lower the knife.”

  “It will never be over, Colonel.” Spite dripped from the man’s lips. “You will leave with me now. We have a lynching party ready for you. An’ I’ll bring the lady along so you’ll behave.”

  Permelia’s breath came quick and hard. The knife pierced deeper into her skin.

  “No need, sir.” William took a step forward. “Leave her here. I’ll come with you.”

  “No, William!” Her words garbled beneath the press of the blade.

  William swallowed. “Very well. Just don’t harm her.” His tone was conciliatory, but a fire ignited in his eyes. They narrowed. Stretching his jaw, he headed for the door.

  The intruder followed him. “Easy now, Colonel. One false move and I’ll gut her.”

  Permelia’s legs grew numb.

  Something flashed in her vision. Slam. Thud. The assailant groaned. Yelping, he fell away from her. Pain burned across her throat. She gasped and raised a hand to the cut. William shook his hand from the strike. Stumbling, the man attempted to regain his composure, but William was already on him. He jerked him up by the collar and slugged him across the face. The knife flew from the man’s hand, clanking to the floor.

  The assailant’s face twisted into a maniacal mixture of fear and fury. He rose to his impressive stature, even towering over William. Terrified, Permelia dropped to the floor and groped for the knife.

  Yet William’s expression remained confident. “Leave now, sir, while you are still able.”

  The man wiped blood from his jaw. “I came for you, and I’m not leaving without you.”

  William released an exasperated sigh. The man charged him. Permelia gasped. She shrank into the corner. In movements quicker than her eyes could follow, William blocked three of the man’s strikes, then leveled one of his own into his belly. The man bent over clutching his middle. He barreled toward William again. William grabbed his head and slammed him into the far wall. The snap of wood cracked the air. The assailant toppled to the ground. William seized him by the shirt and jerked him to his feet. The man held up his arms to block the next strike.

  Clutching him with one hand, William dragged him out the door. Permelia found the knife and followed him. She halted at the top of the stairs, her legs nearly folding beneath her. She heard the man’s boots thumping down each tread, saw the front door open in a flood of moonlight, and watched as William tossed him onto the porch.

  Elijah appeared beside her, lantern in hand. “What’s happening, miss?”

  “An intruder. Go help William.” She pointed below, sending Elijah racing down the stairs. Not that William needed any help, however. Clutching the banister, she followed him.

  “Who put you up to this?” William demanded, gripping the man by the collar. “Who told you I was here?”

  The man cowered. His chest heaved. Blood spilled from his swollen lip.

  Elijah set the lantern on the railing and stepped beside William.

  “Who sent you?” William asked again. Permelia had never heard his voice so full of rage.

  “Steele.” The man seethed.

  Permelia’s breath escaped her. She leaned on the door frame.

  “Jackson Steele?” William asked. “Isn’t he also a Yank?”

  “Not one who slaughtered my friends.”

  Yanking him down the porch stairs, William shoved him to the ground. “You tell Sergeant Steele that if he has an argument with me, he’s welcome to come and issue a proper challenge. Soldier to soldier.”

  The man struggled to his feet and wiped a hand over his mouth.

  William’s face became flint. “If I ever see you here again, you’ll be the one hanging from a tree.”

  Turning, the man slinked away, muttering “Yankee lover” under his breath.

  Elijah rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry I didn’t hear nothin’ till a few minutes ago. I was dead asleep.”

  “It’s quite all right, Elijah.” William’s gaze followed the intruder. “No harm done.”

  Elijah started down the stairs. “I’ll make sure he leaves.”

  Permelia stepped onto the porch. Her knuckles hurt, and she released her tight grip on the knife.

  William’s shoulders lowered as he shook off the stiff cloak of a warrior.

  A breeze fluttered his hair, his shirt, and toyed with the hem of her nightdress. She hugged herself, gazing at him. She’d never seen anything like it before. The way he had dispatched the man with such skill and confidence. He’d protected her. Saved her life. Her heart didn’t know whether to embrace the thrill of his chivalry or shrink from the terror of her ordeal. She chose the former. Especially when he turned around and rushed to take her in his arms.

  Halting, he grabbed the handle of the knife. “I’ll take that.” The kindness reappeared in his voice.

  Happily relinquishing it, Permelia’s legs wobbled, and William took her waist and drew her near. She collapsed in his arms. Muscles, strong and hard, surrounded her, encasing her in a safe fortress.

  “You are safe now, sweet Permelia. Sweet, sweet Permelia.”

  She drew in a deep breath of his scent and leaned her cheek on his chest. “You saved me. I thought … I thought I was … I thought that man …”

  “Shh, dearest. All is well.”

  And surrounded by William’s arms, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek, she believed all was well indeed.

  Until a startled cry jerked her away from him, and she turned to see Annie, lantern in hand, crystalline hair tumbling like a silken waterfall over her robe, standing in the foyer.

  Her jealous glare bore into Permelia.

  Throwing a hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes and started to swoon.

  Abandoning Permelia, William dashed toward Annie just in time to grab the lantern and capture her in his arms before she toppled to the marble floor.

  William settled a sniffling Annie onto the sofa in the parlor, then struck a match and lit the oil lamp sitting on the table. A golden glow flickered over the room, sparkling the tears sliding down her cheeks. Holding a hand out to him, she beckoned him to sit beside her. “It is all so horrible, William. An intruder in our house? Utterly terrifying. Do tell me what happened.”

  With her pink nose, golden hair cascading over her silk robe, her full lips, she truly was a beauty. He remembered how she could captivate him with one glance of those blue eyes, one lift of those moist lips.

  But he felt nothing as she gazed at him now, her eyes settling on the left side of his face. Instead he glanced toward the door where Permelia had announced she’d go make some tea. He longed for her return, longed to know how she fared after her harrowing ordeal.

  “Oh William, I need you.” Annie’s sob drew his attention. Taking her trembling hand in his, he sat beside her.

  “Just an angry, bitter soldier returning from the battlefield, I’m afraid.” He wouldn’t tell her about Jackson. It would only upset her further and serve no purpose. William would have to deal with the man on his own.

  Footsteps sounded, and he knew Permelia had entered. He knew because the innocent sheen hardened over Annie’s eyes as they shot toward the door.

  “Here we are. Perhaps this will sett
le our nerves.” Permelia set down the tray and began pouring tea into a trio of china cups. Her hand quivered, spilling some of the hot liquid, and William longed to grab it, caress it. Kiss it. She raised her gaze to his. Pain and confusion stretched a cord between them, locking their eyes in place.

  Annie cleared her throat, snapping William from his trance. She accepted the cup from Permelia. “Thank you, Permi. No need to stay up. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  Permelia touched the thin red line etched across her throat. She’d tossed a gown over her nightdress, but the lace peeked out from her neckline and hem. William remembered the way she’d clutched the knife and followed him downstairs. So brave.

  “Yes, I am rather tired.” She smiled.

  Concern punched William’s heart, and he leaned forward on his knees. “Would you like me to attend to that?” He gestured toward her wound. “I acquired some medical experience during the war.”

  “No.” Permelia looked down. “I can take care of it, thank you.”

  Annie moaned. “Are we safe here, William?” She clutched his arm and drew him back toward her. “Will the intruder return?”

  He patted her hand. “Never fear, I will guard the house while you and Permelia sleep.”

  “Sleep! I could never after such a horrifying event. Oh, do stay with me, William.” She puckered her lips as a child would when begging a father for a treat.

  William turned to face Permelia. To tell her she must stay with them, as well.

  But she was gone.

  Hiking her skirts into her belt, Permelia knelt beside the row of cabbage and began pulling weeds from around the tender plants. Why did weeds always grow among the good sprouts, sucking the life from them? Her precious cabbage wouldn’t stand a chance at surviving if she didn’t come out here daily to pluck the offenders. She was reminded of the parable Jesus told of the wheat and the tares. The wheat represented God’s beloved children, and the tares were those who didn’t know Him—those destined to be pulled and tossed into the fire. As she was doing now. Yanking one particularly thorny interloper, she threw it atop a growing pile in her bucket then wiped her sleeve across her forehead. The afternoon sun lashed her with hot rays as the air weighed upon her, heavy with moisture.