In a Stranger's Arms

by Hale Deborah

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked when several protracted minutes passed without a word from Manning. “There’s a drop or two of moonshine left over from the barbecue.”

  “No thanks. I want my head clear to say what I have to. If I drink I’m liable to make a damn fool of myself on top of everything else.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Where the hell do I start?” Manning kneaded his knotted brow with his fingers.

  Caddie’s patience snapped. “Anywhere! Just tell me and be done with it.”

  He turned and looked at her, chastened, accepting the rebuke as his due. “I’m not trying to drag this out Caddie, I swear. I just want to lead into it so it doesn’t come as too bad a shock.”

  “I believe I could abide a shock better than this waiting and imagining all sorts of terrible things.”

  Manning gave a grim nod. “I guess you and I were set on a course toward one another early in May of ’64.”

  Caddie’s heart seemed to swell and rise until it blocked her throat. She couldn’t speak—struggled to breathe.

  “We were inspecting one of our pickets on the right flank,” Manning began, “when some rebel cavalry blundered into us.”

  If she had not been sitting there struggling to take in his words, Manning might never have known the difference. In his mind he was back to that spring day over two years ago, on the right flank of the Union Army in that tangle of forest near Chancellorsville.

  “The whole bloody mess was over in a few minutes. I ended up with a couple of nicks and a busted ankle. The rest were all dead, except for a cavalry officer I’d shot.”

  Caddie felt as though someone had shot her and every drop of blood was draining from her body.

  “Off to the left I heard the battle commencing. I knew I wouldn’t be any use to my company, the shape my leg was in. I didn’t dare try to move the wounded man—I could tell he wasn’t going to make it. If I’d had the stomach, I might have finished him off, but he didn’t seem to be in too much pain, just weak and fading...” Manning’s voice trailed off.

  I’m sitting here beside the Yankee who shot my husband. I’ve let him live in my house all these months, even taken him into my bed. This can’t be happening. It must be a nightmare.

  Letting loose a shaky sigh, like a distant locomotive shuddering into motion, Manning began to speak again. “Either he didn’t know it was me who shot him, or it just didn’t make any difference to him. He talked about his home and his family, mentioned the pump out behind the stable over and over. I couldn’t figure why at the time.”

  The pump. The silver. Tem had told her Manning knew. None of his explanations or proof of his identity had explained how that was possible. Once she’d been satisfied he wasn’t Del, she’d looked no further. Now her stomach had joined her heart up in her throat. Caddie strained to swallow a mouthful of bile.

  “I’d shot plenty of the enemy during my soldiering days. But he was the only one I had to watch die. And when I looked in his face, I saw my own. Before he died, he gave me your last letter. He made me promise to find you and his children after the war and look after you. That’s what I’ve tried to do.”

  He didn’t love her—never had. The certain knowledge sickened Caddie worse than anything she’d heard about Del’s death.

  Manning Forbes had married her out of guilt then bedded her out of pity laced with lust. She felt so dirty she wanted to rub herself raw with the harshest lye soap she could lay hands on.

  “I’m sorry, Caddie.” Manning reached for her. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

  “Don’t touch me!” She leaped from the seat like a scalded cat and backed away from him as though his confession had made him a stranger again. A dangerous stranger armed with all sorts of intimate knowledge about her.

  “How could I have been such a blind fool?” It all made a kind of macabre sense now. All the questions, the suspicions, the baffling inconsistencies. Caddie looked back on the idyllic life she thought she’d been leading and saw one huge lie.

  He’d played a warped joke on her and she’d been too gullible a love-starved fool to see it. Even as she gazed at him hunched over on the porch seat, his face buried in his hands, some weak, pathetic little ninny inside her wanted to lie naked beneath him and quiver at his touch.

  His power over her infuriated Caddie as much as any other wrong he’d done her. “Get out of my house, you lying carpetbagger, and don’t ever come back. I rue the day I first laid eyes on you!”

  Manning rose from the seat. “I was afraid that’s what you’d say. I’m sorry you had to hear it like this, Caddie. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t!” Caddie clamped her hands over her ears. Next he’d probably tell her how sorry he was about letting her lure him into her bed. “Just go!”

  He nodded, and Caddie saw his lips form the words, “Yes, ma’am.”

  She removed her hands from her ears and wrapped them tightly around herself to keep from reaching for him. Then she turned away, so the sight of him wouldn’t stir unwelcome feelings in her. Feelings like passion... or compassion.

  “I’m going to send you money for the children, and I want you to use it. Not for my sake, but for theirs and for... your husband’s. He wanted you looked after.”

  He had a fine way of showing it. Caddie swallowed the bitter retort. Was there a woman in all the former Confederate states who chose worse husbands than she did?

  Manning persisted. “I’m going to keep in touch with Bobbie Stevens. If you or the children ever need anything, I want you to let him know so he can get a message to me.”

  “Fine, I’ll do that.” Promise him whatever he asked to get him out of there before her resolve weakened.

  Caddie listened as he walked to the front door, opened it and went inside. Presently, through his open bedroom window above, she heard the sounds of him packing his few worldly possessions.

  She held herself still. Frozen like brittle ice, she didn’t dare move lest she shatter.

  Behind her the door opened and shut again, and Manning’s footsteps moved away. Then they paused. “I had no right to love you, but I couldn’t help myself. Goodbye, Caddie.”

  The frigid force of pride and stubbornness held her together long enough for Manning to retreat out of earshot. Then the ice statue that was Caddie melted onto the porch floorboards in a thaw of bitter tears.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  CONSIDERING HE’D JUST passed the worst night of his life, Manning felt at peace with himself for the first time in months—maybe years.

  As he had on that long-ago night in April, Manning sat on the rise overlooking Sabbath Hollow, keeping watch on the sleeping house. He’d get Bobbie to hire someone to guard the place at night for a while. He’d also let Lon Marsh know, in no uncertain terms, that he’d be quick and ruthless to avenge any harm that came to Caddie or the children.

  Caddie and the children—he would carry them forever in his heart, a constant ache that would remind him he had lived and loved. If it weren’t for the fact that his lies had hurt Caddie and his leaving would hurt the children, he would not regret anything he’d done on his own account He’d trade the whole rest of his life, before and since, for this one bittersweet summer when he’d been a husband and father. Loving and beloved.

  The sun had risen a while ago. Time for him to be on his way. Maybe now and then in the years to come, he’d return to this spot and listen for the dog’s bark, Tem and Varina’s laughter, the sound of Caddie’s voice calling them in to supper.

  Manning hefted the rucksack over his shoulder and turned away from the one place that had been a home to him.

  “Where’re you going?” Tem’s query slammed into Manning like an artillery shell, blowing his stoic composure to smithereens.

  He turned. The truth might hurt them both, but he was done with lies, no matter how well intentioned. “I’m not sure, Son.”

  “Wh
en’re you coming back?” Tem yawned and stretched. His arms looked a lot less scrawny than when he’d first come to Sabbath Hollow. He held himself differently, too—at the same time straighter and more relaxed. With all his heart Manning prayed his going wouldn’t change that.

  He shook his head. “Can’t say.”

  “Does that mean... you’re leaving? For good?”

  “I wish I didn’t have to, Tem. Maybe when you’re older you’ll understand why.”

  “No, I won’t. I’ll never understand it and I’ll never like it! Neither will Rina. She doesn’t know what a carpetbagger is, but I do. It’s a Yankee who comes here to make a pile of money, then skedaddles back up North.”

  Perhaps the boy was trying to shame him into staying. “You’d better get home to breakfast, Son.”

  “How come you call me that? I’m not your son.”

  “No. But I’m as proud of you, and I think as much of you as if you were.”

  “Then don’t go ’way. If you do, I’ll...” The boy seemed to be conjuring up the direst threat he could imagine. “I’ll run off and go live with Uncle Lon—so there!”

  “No, Tem. You stay away from your uncle Lon, you hear me? I don’t think he’s really a bad man, but he wants something so much he doesn’t care anymore what he has to do to get it—lie, cheat, steal.” Were he and Lon all that different at heart?

  “I want you to promise me you’ll never let that happen to you, Tem. If you want something you can’t get by honest means, let it be, no matter how much you hanker for it.”

  “I’ll promise if you’ll stay.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry that makes you feel bad, but this is how it has to be.”

  “Because of my ma? I thought she liked you now. I’ve seen her kiss you and she says your name the special way she says Rina’s and mine—like it tastes good. If she’s being mean to you again, I’ll—”

  “No, Tem. Your ma’s not making me go.” So much for his resolution to tell the brutal truth. “It’s something else. I need you to look after your ma and Varina once I’m gone. You’ll be the man of the family.”

  “I ain’t a man!” The child threw his arms around Manning’s legs and began to wail. “I’m just a little boy, and you hadn’t ought to leave, you danged carpetbagger!” Apart from watching Tem’s father die, and tearing his mother to pieces by telling her about it, Manning had never done anything harder in his life than detach himself from the sobbing child and walk away—leaving a great chunk of his heart raw and bleeding in the dust behind him.

  Just like when he’d burned his hands, the pain made Manning blind and deaf to everything around him. He stumbled up the lane and onto the main road, heading for Mercer’s Corner.

  He almost walked right into Lon Marsh’s sleek bay.

  “I don’t like the looks of this, Carpetbagger,” Lon growled. “Where’re Caddie and the young’uns? Have you got my deed?”

  All Manning’s hurt ignited into rage. “It isn’t your deed and it never will be!”

  He knew this was all his fault. Lon Marsh had done nothing more than exploit the situation for his own ends. Still, it felt good for once to blame somebody else.

  “I told Caddie the truth and now I’m leaving. But I’m not going far, so don’t entertain any fool ideas about getting your hands on Sabbath Hollow. I almost gunned you down once to run you off Caddie’s property and I wouldn’t hesitate a second to do it if you harm a hair on my family’s heads.”

  From his lofty perch, Lon glared down. “Damn you straight to hell, Yankee! Did my brother send you here just to bedevil me?”

  “I guess neither of us is getting what we want out of this, Lon. Let’s think of it as a lesson in character building.” Manning skirted the horse and continued on his way to town.

  Behind him a revolver cocked. “Not so fast, Yankee. If I’m not going to get compensation for my brother’s death, I reckon I’ll have to settle for revenge.”

  Why hadn’t the man just pulled out a gun and shot her the way he’d shot Del? Caddie wondered. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much as what he’d put her through.

  Or had she put herself through it?

  Once her initial shock and outrage had begun to subside, she’d tried to separate what Manning had said from her own assumptions. It was useless. Once she’d realized he was responsible for Del’s death, and that he’d only come to Sabbath Hollow to salve his conscience, she’d stopped listening to the words that came out of his mouth in favor of the ones that swirled inside her own head.

  She remembered his last words though. They’d been branded onto her heart with red-hot irons. I had no right to love you, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Could she believe him? After everything that had happened with Del and now with Manning, could she trust him? Even if it was possible, against all pride, was it too late for them to start over?

  Varina padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Tem?”

  “Isn’t he upstairs?” A clammy hand squeezed Caddie’s innards hard.

  “Uh-uh.” Varina shook her head vigorously. “He was gone when I woked up. Did Manning take him fishing early and leave me behind? If they did...”

  “No, dear. Tem’s not fishing. I’ll go fetch him in for breakfast. Can you dress yourself, like a big girl?”

  “Can I pick which clothes?”

  Caddie was already halfway out the door. “Fine, just as long as it’s not your Sunday best. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Now scoot!”

  Outside, she called Templeton’s name several times with no response. At least none from the boy. After her second try Sergeant came loping around from the front of the house. The dog let out a loud bark every time she called after that.

  “Will you hush so Tem can hear me?” she scolded.

  The dog whined and his ears dropped a little, but his tail whipped back and forth in an ingratiating manner.

  “Can you find Tem, boy?”

  Sergeant barked. Off like a shot, the dog circled around the house and up the lane. Caddie panted along behind him, praying Tem wasn’t in any danger. After the boy’s drastic reactions to her past quarrels with Manning, she dreaded to think how this irreparable breach might crush Tem’s sensitive spirit.

  How could she have been so selfish as to send Manning away without even considering her children’s feelings? They adored Manning and he adored them. What might have begun as an obligation to their dead father had rapidly grown into something deep and genuine.

  Could the same be true of his feelings for her, or was she just trying to fool herself again?

  Up ahead on the road she could make out a small figure running toward her. Thank heaven he was all right!

  Caddie ran to meet him, arms outstretched to offer a mother’s comfort. As Tem came closer, she could tell he’d been crying, hard. “Come on, precious. It’s going to be all right.”

  Tem resisted her effort to gather him close. Sniffling and swiping away tears with the back of his hand, he cried, “Manning’s going away, Mama!”

  Caddie’s heart lurched in her chest as if it had just begun to beat again. Tem had said going, not gone.

  “You have to stop him.” The boy grabbed her sleeve and pulled her up the road. “He’ll listen to you. I know he will.”

  “But, Tem, honey, we’ll never catch up with him.”

  “Sure we will. He’s talking to Uncle Lon right now. Just ’round the next bend.”

  Lon. If her world was crashing down around her yet again, chances were good Lon and Lydene had a hand in it.

  “Very well, then. I’ll go talk to him. But I need you and Sergeant to go back to the house and watch Varina. Who knows what mischief she’ll get into on her own? I’ll bring Manning back to the house if he’ll come, and we can all talk to him.”

  And listen. With her ears this time, and her heart, instead of her oversensitive pride.

  “Go on, now.”

  “Don’t be long, Mama.”

  “I won’t.”
To prove it she picked up her skirts and hurried down the road.

  As soon as she rounded the bend she saw them—Lon seated with lordly grace on his fine bay mare and Manning standing his ground, the rucksack slung over his shoulder. For an instant she wondered where he had spent the night. Then she knew.

  “What’s going on here?” she called out in a breathless voice as she approached them.

  Manning answered first. “Go home, Caddie!”

  He hadn’t spoken to her in so peremptory a manner since that morning after the first night they’d spent together. Had she just imagined his reluctance about leaving last night? Or after the hysteria with which she’d greeted his confession, had he decided he was well rid of her?

  Then Caddie saw the gun in Lon’s hand and she knew Manning was trying to protect her. From the very first minute they’d met, he’d been trying to protect her from someone or something. Most recently he’d tried to protect her from the truth he knew would hurt her so badly, even when the lies gnawed him to pieces.

  “Don’t run off, Caddie!” barked Lon. “This Yankee claims he told you how he killed Del, but I reckon he just slunk away without saying anything.”

  What was Caddie doing here? Though Manning burned to know, and his whole being ached with joy at seeing her one last time, he wished she’d turn around and scurry back home like he’d ordered her. If any harm came to her on his account, he’d never be able to live with that corrosive knowledge.

  Caddie flung her reply at Lon. “He told me.”

  Astonishment got the better of Lon’s rage for about five seconds. “In that case, maybe I ought to give you the satisfaction of shooting the varmint.”

  “Hand me the gun.”

  Both men stared at Caddie for an instant, slack-jawed. Manning tried to get his mouth to work so he could warn her that Lon’s offer was a trap. With him dead and her in jail, nothing would stand between Lon and Sabbath Hollow...or between Lon and the children.

  That thought knocked the air out of Manning as handily as a hard jab in the belly.

  Caddie held out her hand for the pistol, but Lon shook his head. “Tut-tut, now. Do you take me for a fool, woman? How do I know you wouldn’t blow a hole in me, instead?”