His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “But what about you?”
She gave him a small smile. “I’ll be here—at home—waiting for you all to come back to me.”
Emery glared at Jess. “Catey, he’s a Yankee,” he said in little more than a whisper.
She was silent a moment, warring within herself. Tempted to change her mind and step onto the raft—sail away to safety with her brother. Finally she spoke, her voice strained. “He’s a good man, Em. I… He’s kept me safe.” Then, decisively, she pulled her hands away and stepped back. She looked at John. “Take care of him,” she said.
John nodded, then grasped the pole and pushed the raft away from the shore. Catey stood silently and watched as her brother and trusted friend disappeared into the blackness of the bayou.
The eerie predawn light filtered through the canopy of bald cypress and water tupelo rising majestically from the shadowed swamp. Gray mists drifted over the dusky water like specters. The croak of bullfrogs, whir of crickets and occasional splash of a gator entering the water, was now mixed with the shrills, screeches and twitterings of wakening blackbirds, kites, cardinals and heron. Catey shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. What had she done? Why was she not on that raft on her way to safety? Had she truly lost her mind?
She jumped as a hand gripped her shoulder and turned her. Jess stood very close, his eyes searching hers—questioning.
She looked back, uncertain and feeling more than a little awkward. Would he be angry? Why had he let her brother go? Hadn’t he said he intended to turn Emery in? Nothing made sense.
Nothing but the feel of his warm fingers gripping her upper arm and the heat of his body so close to hers.
Jess looked into Catey’s eyes. Her words still echoed in his mind. “He’s a good man. He’s kept me safe.” Could this mean she cared for him? Could she feel something more than a need for his body?
Her eyes told him little. They were clouded with a mixture of confusion and desire. He knew he could take her right there and then if he wanted. But something prevented him from lowering his lips to hers. Despite the familiar arousal her very presence stirred, he didn’t move his hand to her breast, or run his fingers over her soft, pale cheek.
He realized suddenly he wanted more from her—more than just her body. But was she willing?
“Why?” he asked simply.
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. It was as if their thoughts followed the same course. “I‑I don’t know.” It was true. She just knew she had to stay but she still didn’t really know why. “What about you? Why did you let them go?”
He shrugged, dropping his hand from her arm. “It’s what you wanted.”
“But you said…” she began.
“I know what I said,” he growled. “You assumed I meant to betray you, when I only meant to protect them.”
Now Catey felt her ire rise. “Protect them? And how would that work? Since when do Rebs get a fair trial in Yankee courts?”
Jess stared at her coldly. “Since my father is a colonel and can influence those courts.”
Catey blinked.
“Come on, let’s get back before questions are asked. My father’s on his way here. The message was delayed, so I expect he’ll arrive any day now.” Jess’ eyes raked Catey’s attire. “I’d prefer he not see you dressed like a boy.” He paused. “Oh, and I’ll take my knife back now.”
She glared at him, fumbling with the belt. She managed to unhook the knife and its sheath and place it in his outstretched hand.
He put it around his own waist, and without another word, turned on his heel and set off into the woods, not even bothering to glance back to see if she followed.
Catey tramped behind Jess, flattening undergrowth deliberately with her oversized boots, her anger seething. What right did he have to make her feel guilty? He was the one who’d betrayed her! And so what if his father was a colonel? There was no guarantee Em would’ve even made it to trial before being shot or hanged!
Jess strode ahead oblivious to the sound of Catey’s labored breathing behind him. He didn’t understand women. She stayed behind to be with him but couldn’t tell him why. Was it because she couldn’t leave her home? Or was it because she truly cared for him? He felt like a fool. How could he have let his emotions get the better of him? It would have been best for both of them if she’d left on that raft with her damned Confederate brother!
Together, each warring with their own anger, they pushed through the thickets and groundcover. An hour later, the sun now up and the heat of the day rising, they both suddenly realized they were hopelessly lost.
Jess stopped, pulling his kerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow. They’d been moving at a brisk pace, fueled by raging emotions.
Catey stopped too, panting and sat down on a nearby log. She wiped her own glistening brow with the sleeve of her shirt. She looked at Jess, cocking a sardonic brow. “We’re lost, thanks to you. So now what do we do?”
Jess glared at her. “If you knew which way to go, why did you follow me?”
She had no reply, choosing instead to ignore him. She pulled off one of her boots and socks and rubbed her foot where a blister burned.
Jess ran a hand through his hair and turned in a circle, trying to get his bearings. He’d come away without his compass but he could get his bearings if he allowed himself to think rationally. He could tell by the shadows in which direction the sun had risen. They needed to walk north to find the house—that is, if they hadn’t already moved too far west.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally he sat down on the log next to Catey, folding his hands between his knees and staring at the ground.
“Look,” he said, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I meant to explain to you about my father. I honestly thought the best chance for your brother would be to turn him in. It was the only way I could be sure he was protected.”
Catey didn’t reply but she’d become still, listening.
Jess shrugged. “I meant to explain but the chance didn’t arise. So, I’m sorry.”
Catey picked up the sock from the ground and pulled it back on, then picked up the boot to do the same, taking her time.
Just as Jess made a resigned move to get up, she spoke. “I stayed because I couldn’t leave.” She still didn’t look at him. “I‑I couldn’t leave you.” There was a slight hitch in her voice. Jess took only a brief moment to digest this announcement before gathering her in his arms, feeling her stiffness slowly melt into acceptance. He gently caressed her neck, moist with perspiration beneath the weight of her loose hair. It was enough to remain this way for now, the scent of her, the feel of her. It was enough for now.
Catey’s cheek rested on Jess’ bare chest. She breathed in his manly scent, relaxing as he stroked her hair and neck. Relief filled her as she realized she’d made the right decision. He hadn’t betrayed her. He’d done what he thought would help her—and he’d intended to help Em. She’d been wrong to doubt her instincts.
“I think I know which way to go,” she said softly.
He sat back and looked down at her, smiling. “Then lead away. I’ve made enough of a mess of things already.”
She smiled back, almost shyly. Why did things feel different? Why did she suddenly feel as though her heart would burst when she looked into his soft, hazel eyes? But she had to keep her wits about her.
“I think it’s this way,” she said and stood up, moving determinedly through a tangle of honeysuckle.
Chapter Thirteen
They came upon the clear spring pond within minutes, stumbling out of the forest onto a carpet of lush springy grass and moss. Timeworn boulders ringed the clear, deep pool and a delightful little stream took excess water away, bubbling over the rocks on the opposite shore to disappear into the woodland beyond.
Catey turned triumphantly to look at Jess, satisfied to see his mouth hanging open.
“We used to come here when we were kids,” she said.
“The gators don’t come up this far and the water’s clean.”
“God, why didn’t you show me this before?” Jess asked.
She shrugged. “I was going to. Eventually.” She smiled, unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it to the ground, then dropping the trousers and kicking off her boots and socks.
Jess stared at her, dumbstruck. She stood before him, naked, smiling, flushed with a battle between boldness and shyness, totally oblivious to her beauty. Then, like a teasing child, she crooked her finger at him in a “come here” gesture, then turned, ran lithely to the water’s edge and plunged in, disappearing beneath the surface, only to pop up within seconds, water streaming from gleaming dark, waist-long hair and pale, smooth skin, laughing with pleasure.
“Come on!” she called.
He didn’t need any further prompting. Within moments he was naked, plunging into the crystalline depths, allowing the cool, clean pool to wash away the sticky sweat and grime of their journey.
Catey watched him, giggling. She ducked her head under the water, scrubbing her hair, feeling the dust and dirt dispersing. When she lifted her head, Jess was nowhere to be seen. She turned in the water, her eyes raking the shore. Had he gotten out? But no, there was no sign of him.
A wave of panic swept over her. She didn’t even know if he could swim.
Then she let out a gasp as a hand gripped her leg. And suddenly he was there, right in front of her, his face so close she could almost feel the stubble on his chin, his eyes bright, water shushing from his cheeks and hair.
“Don’t do that!” she gasped. “You scared the daylights out of me!”
“I’m sorry,” he said. But his expression belied his words. He was grinning, his eyes dancing, his hands making their way up her body toward her breasts.
She giggled and dived away from him, swimming hard toward the opposite bank. But he caught up with her easily and wrapped his arms around her waist, despite her laughing squeals of protest. He pulled her to him, his desire obvious—hard against her thigh. Then his mouth covered hers and she felt a dizziness born of joy sweep over her, losing herself in the kiss, his lips soft, sweet, gentle, pearled with droplets of spring water.
Catey luxuriated in the sensation. She’d never swum naked before and felt exhilarated. The water moved gently around them, between her thighs, caressing her bare skin. The feel of Jess’ muscled body pressed full-length against her, her breasts tight against his chest. She felt safe—encased in pure water and held afloat within his arms.
She kissed him back, using her teeth to gently nibble his bottom lip, allowing her tongue to explore the soft confines of his mouth. Pleased with the power of her explorations as she felt his shaft grow even harder. She opened her thighs to allow it to slip between her legs.
Jess treaded water slowly to keep them afloat, moving them closer to the shore until his feet touched sandy bottom, aware only of her small tongue tentatively darting into his mouth to touch the soft, delicate places there, her teeth occasionally gripping his lower lip, nibbling, then letting go. The sensation of water flowing around them heightened his desire. His taut rod was already searching for the tight, wet warmth of her.
Catey opened her legs. She no longer cared what was right or wrong. Instincts she’d never known engulfed her. She wanted him and he wanted her. She wanted to feel the length of him hard and hot inside her. She wanted to feel his need. She reveled in the power she had over him, teasing him with her mouth, pressing her firm breasts against his chest, her nipples hard, closing her thighs over his shaft and holding it there while she gently kneaded his firm buttocks.
Jess groaned. She’d brought him to a precipitous edge, his penis throbbing—ready to burst. But she continued to hold him at bay, pinning his penis between her thighs while at the same time pulling him closer, gently rubbing herself back and forth against his shaft. It was too much. He’d lose control if she kept it up. He gripped her firmly and moved his hand between them. Finding the round, tight hardness of her clitoris, he massaged it gently, gratified to hear her gasp and groan, her thighs parting of their own accord. He moved his fingers to her opening, placing his forefinger and middle finger inside, feeling her wet and hot.
The balance of power shifted swiftly. Suddenly it was Catey who was helpless, unable to move under the sensation of his fingers inside her, his thumb gently stroking her clit, his mouth and tongue hot on her neck. She was floating in a haze of desire, her entire universe whirling. Then suddenly his fingers were gone and his organ slipped into her, easily—as though made for her. She clung to him, her face pressed against his strong shoulder, her mouth open, absently tasting the sweetness of his skin.
He pulled her onto his rod, closing his eyes at the exquisite sensation as he slid into her, feeling her engulf him fully, his scrotum tight against her. He pulled her down harder so he was as deep within her as he could go. She gave a small cry of delight, wrapping her legs around him, clinging to him in wanton abandon.
He waited, wanting to prolong the moment, feeling his shaft pulsing with need, yet enjoying her total submission. He could do what he wanted with her. She was completely in his power—caught by her need for him. He smiled, moving his mouth to her neck, nibbling, flicking his tongue, feeling her shiver with delight, satisfied with each small moan.
He reached down once more and touched her. She was rigid with expectation but he merely pressed her button, holding his finger there, feeling her need. Finally she began to move, making small circles with her hips. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to be still, feeling the sensual movements bringing him to a peak.
Eventually he could wait no longer, he moved his own hips and pushed hard into her, his finger gently flicking her clitoris. She gasped and grew very still. He could tell her excitement was mounting. He increased his thrusts, feeling her tense, moving his finger over her hard bud. Then she cried out and he felt her jerk with shattering paroxysms, felt her vaginal walls gripping his shaft hard. He drove deep, once, twice, three times then came in a shattering explosion, gripping her tightly as his penis shuddered, breathing hard, the spring water holding them both buoyant until they were spent.
Catey held Jess, the clenching of her orgasm lessening as her world slowly began to cease its spinning. He gently pulled out of her, then lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the water. She was too sated to care. He lay her down on a carpet of moss, sunlight warm on her wet skin. She reached out and he was there next to her, her hand resting on his stomach, his fingers entwined with hers, his shoulder warm beneath her head.
Jess turned his face to the sunlight and closed his eyes. Sleep came to them both within seconds.
* * * * *
Catey woke and lay still, engulfed momentarily in a state of utter peace, her mind, like her body, free and unencumbered. The sun lay warmly on her skin, while the moss at her back felt soft and cooling. Jess’ arm cradled her head. She wished she could stay this way forever.
But memories soon came slipping in—her father and mother, dead. Her sister gone. Jake missing. Emery’s face as he disappeared into the dark floating forest. She opened her eyes. Jess was looking down at her, his eyes soft, admiring.
She smiled, blushing. “What are you looking at?” she asked quietly.
He smiled too, rubbing the side of his thumb gently over her lips. “You, sweet lips,” he said. Then lowered his head and kissed her, deeply, gently—a kiss that made her dissolve inside.
Finally he lifted his head and sighed. “Unfortunately this little interlude has to end,” he said. “If my father arrives, I’ll have a difficult time explaining where I’ve been.”
“Tell me about him,” she said, refusing to allow him to ruin the moment.
He looked at her, an eyebrow cocked. “Who?”
“Your father. You said he’s a Yankee colonel. You’re a lieutenant. Did you join up to fight the war with him?”
He gave a short, harsh laugh. “No. Hardly.” Suddenly he pulled away from her and sat up.
Wrapping his arms around his knees, he stared intently at the swirling water of the spring.
She looked at his back, seeing with new eyes the barely discernable scars from the lash, sensing she’d touched a raw nerve. Tentatively she reached out a hand and touched one of the marks. He tensed, then relaxed as she sat up and put her lips where her fingers had been.
“Tell me,” she whispered against his skin.
Jess warred with his emotions. A part of him wanted to turn and push her back onto the moss and silence her with savage lovemaking, another part of him cried out to tell her what it was like growing up as Colonel John T. Granger’s bastard. In the end, he simply shook his head, got up and began gathering his clothes.
“You wouldn’t want to know, darlin’,” he said simply. “Come on, let’s get moving. There’s no telling what the men will do without an officer present.”
Catey looked at him, surprised. Obviously something she said had upset him. But he was right. She’d save her questions for another time. Complete trust was not an option in these desperate times.
* * * * *
When they finally found their way back to the plantation house, there were at least a dozen horses tethered to the porch rail and an equal number of strange Yankee soldiers squatting or sitting beneath the giant elm nearby eating dried rations.
“Shit,” Jess said, eying the dusty, worn gold braid decorating the tack of one large black stallion.
Catey tensed. She didn’t like her chances in this scenario. “Your father and his company?”
Jess nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Catey shivered despite the humidity. “What should I do?”
Jess turned to her and as though realizing her distress for the first time, gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, feeling her trembling. “It’ll be okay. They won’t harm you. I won’t let that happen. You just keep quiet and follow my lead. I’ll try to get you out of the way as soon as possible.”
Catey's Capture Page 11