Without listening to any further arguments, she sprang up the steps and disappeared into the post hospital, where he had no right to follow, because he couldn’t convince her that he was completely innocent of self-interest without confessing to emotions she’d already rejected twice.
John Crowley’s condition fluctuated during the hours of the night. There were moments when Dr. Penny came close to losing him, but the colonel fought stubbornly. Perhaps it was the two silent sentinels at his bedside—his daughter and the widow who’d only recently caught his interest—perhaps it was his unwillingness to leave either behind that made him struggle against blood loss and trauma until by dawn’s light, Penny pronounced him, with no little amazement, stabilized.
During those long, anxious hours, the two women learned to lean on each other. By the time Crowley was said to be out of danger, a strong bond had developed between them. Juliet felt secure enough to abandon her watch to Anne so that she could seek her own bed and some desperately needed slumber. She hadn’t the strength to deal with the other matter pressing upon her heart—that of Noble Banning’s treachery.
He’d just been using her. What more proof did she need?
She could ban him from her thoughts, but she couldn’t keep the tears from soaking her pillow. Finally, she fell into an exhausted sleep, not awaking until late that same day to the smell of coffee brewing in her kitchen.
After quickly dressing, Juliet left her bedroom to find Miles and Jane patiently waiting. A pang of disappointment shot through her, but she refused to recognize it as a wish that it had been Noble seated in her father’s chair instead of her old friend, Noble coming to apologize, to make some believable excuse to take the terrible sense of loss away.
But he wasn’t there. And nothing he could say would ever make any difference.
Jane crossed to embrace her. “Oh, darling, I feel so awful for you!”
Juliet let her friend fuss and coddle her, needing the spoiling too much to protest. Finally, she forced herself to ask after her father’s condition. Brother and sister exchanged a look.
Panic darted through Juliet as her private woes were forgotten.
“Is he worse? Please tell me.”
“He’s getting stronger by the hour,” Miles assured her. Another glance at Jane had Juliet’s belly knotting.
“But—?”
He cleared his throat, carefully putting his words together before speaking. “There’s a problem with his eyes.”
“His eyes? What problem?”
Miles shifted uncomfortably. “The bullet may have damaged his vision.”
“Damaged how badly? Are you saying that he’s blind?”
“In one eye, possibly both. Penny can explain it better.”
But Juliet was already out the door, running toward the infirmary and answers she feared to receive.
“I’m not a specialist in these matters, Miss Crowley,” Penny began with characteristic bluntness. “I’d advise you to take him to one. I can give you several names from back East. For the moment, he shows no response to changes in light and darkness. It may be temporary. I just don’t know.”
“How soon can he travel?”
Miles had come in behind her, his big hands settling on her shoulders. “We can have a protective caravan ready to go tomorrow. Would he be ready then, Doc?”
“I think so.”
Juliet covered one of the major’s hands with her own. “Tomorrow then.”
“I’ll escort you as far as the railhead myself.”
She nodded, too frazzled to think of what else that would mean. It would mean leaving the only life she’d ever known behind her, perhaps forever. It would mean saying good-bye to Noble Banning.
Maisy Bartholomew got her wish. She was going home. Too sympathetic to the fragile woman’s circumstances to insist she be punished, Juliet applied all her influence to arrange passage back to South Carolina, where Donald’s family would take her in and see that she received the help she needed. It was difficult to send her into enemy territory, but not impossible. The captain would remain in the West. He packed her belongings, delivering them and his wife without a hint of emotion to the sergeant in charge of her care. Maisy herself was placid to the point of being oblivious to her surroundings. She received her husband’s brief kiss on her cheek without so much as blinking her eyes.
Juliet dismantled their home with a quick efficiency, storing each item, each memento with practiced care. As she was about to crate up her feathered friends, she paused in surprise at the sight of her garden. The sprouts were green and standing upright, showing every sign of prosperity. Something good would remain in reminder of her passing.
She placed their care in Colleen’s hands, at the last minute adding the goat and chickens. There would be no place for livestock where they were going. Colleen accepted the responsibility for the gifts with grateful tears.
Then she presented Jane with her hanging plants along with an emotional hug.
“Write me, darling,” Jane insisted. “Let me know how things progress.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Are you sure you have everything? You’ve been in such a rush.”
Juliet paused to glance about.
The adobe was empty, awaiting its next occupant, now just impersonal rooms instead of a home. Her father had been carefully loaded into one ambulance for travel. Anne Stacy sat beside him. Pauline and her children would share another with Maisy Bartholomew and her military escort.
No, there was nothing left for her.
The entire regiment was lined up at attention. She took in their familiar faces: George Allen, Doc Penny, Albert Howell with his arm still in a sling. And at their head was the new commander of Fort Blair: Noble Banning. Despite the lingering pain of their last meeting, Juliet’s heart gave a wistful lurch.
“Almost everything,” she told her friend. Then she purposefully crossed to Noble.
He watched her approach, unreadable emotions flickering behind the pale blue of his eyes. She stood before him, part of her wanting to slap his face for so misusing her emotions, and another wishing to throw pride to the wind to have a last kiss good-bye.
She did neither.
“Convey my best wishes for a full recovery to your father, Miz Crowley.”
How formally said, as if they were strangers. But because they were anything but, Juliet wanted to leave him with the one thing he desired most of all.
“This is your post now, Major. Hold it honorably.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pitched her voice lower so only the two of them could hear what she would say.
“I lied before. Father did tell me this—he’s dead, Noble.”
Confusion clouded his features, then the spark in his gaze flared hot. “Who?”
“He died before you ever left Maryland.”
She saw him digest that information. Saw the flash of questions, the moment of wondering why she’d chosen to reveal this only at this parting instant, and finally, the weight of acceptance. His quest was over. Now they were even. She’d given him back his life, and he’d taught her what it was like to live. And that was all there could ever be between them. She knew that as she waited for him to speak, for him to say anything that would give her a reason to stay, to hold out some hope….
“Have a safe journey, Juliet.”
It wasn’t enough.
“Thank you, Major.”
His sword flashed up in a dramatic salute, his stare never leaving hers. And because there was nothing left for her to do but walk away, she did so with head held high, never looking back to the man who would always hold her heart at saber-point.
The ride was hard on all of them, but especially upon John Crowley. Juliet and Anne did their best to keep him comfortable, but fever fed his anxiety and made for a difficult trip.
Watching the other woman tenderly caring for her father gave Juliet a glimpse of her future. A future alone. She’d never looked beyond a life ten
ding the colonel, following the drum, but now it loomed before her, a vast unknown of independence and uncertainty.
And she was afraid.
She’d never been prepared for a life alone. Undoubtedly her father’s condition would consume a great deal of their time. But once he’d either recovered or accepted his limits, where did that leave her? What would she do if Anne and the colonel set up housekeeping together? Though she was sure Anne wouldn’t cast her out, her own pride wouldn’t allow her to linger, a second woman in another’s home.
They were heading for Boston, where one of the country’s leading eye specialists would treat her father’s blindness, a city like the one she’d stayed in while her father was involved in the Civil War. Thinking ahead to the crowds, the noise, the confusion, her spirit rebelled. She would suffocate in the press of narrow streets and confining manners. But what other choice did she have until her father had stabilized? And what after that?
One answer came to her as they boarded the eastbound train. As she saw to the loading of their belongings while Anne got the colonel situated in their private room, Miles lingered at her side. When she turned to him with a sad smile, he doffed his hat.
“Juliet, this doesn’t have to be good-bye.”
She could have agreed with him to spare him pain, but it wasn’t her way to give false encouragement.
“I’m afraid it will be, Miles. I have a feeling I’ll never see the West again, and I don’t know that I shall miss it. Even if Papa recovers enough to return to his commission, my guess is he’ll be bringing another woman back to tend his house for him. There’ll be no place in it for me.” There was sadness in that statement but no resentment.
“Then you can come back with him and tend my house for me.”
She’d expected him to make some last-minute declaration, but still it came as a bittersweet shock. Solid, unimaginative Miles, as limited in emotional intensity as he was in scope. He was offering her a future, one that would be familiar, predictable.
“You’re a dear, dear friend, Miles.”
He smiled miserably, for once reading between the lines. “But nothing more. I had held such high hopes that you would change your mind, Juliet, that you would see our future together as one. You can’t blame me for asking.”
She put her hand on his arm. “No, and I’m flattered. I truly am.”
“I do care for you, Juliet. I would make you a good husband.”
He would, she’d no doubt. He would give her exactly the same life she’d led with her father—no surprises, no changes, just worry and loneliness without love.
It wasn’t enough. Not any more.
“I will think of you and Jane often.”
She stretched up to press a fond kiss to his cheek. He understood it meant good-bye and sighed. For a moment, he held her close.
“I wish I knew of some way to persuade you to come back, Juliet.”
There was, she admitted to herself at that melancholy moment.
If Noble Banning had done the asking.
“Good-bye, Miles.”
With one last look around at the uniformed men, at the vast untamed sky and savage land, Juliet stepped on the train and headed for a new life.
Chapter 23
Pride County, Kentucky
1865
When he stepped onto the platform, the first thing he did was close his eyes and breathe deep. Even with the ash from the train, there was no disguising the rich, earthy smell of Kentucky.
Home.
Noble glanced around him, having to blink to clear his vision. Changes, yes, but enough similarities to make him feel embraced. He hadn’t thought anything could affect him as profoundly as four simple words: “The war is over.” But this did, this first, long-awaited glimpse of Pride.
Crowley had kept his promise with a reach that stretched all the way from Boston to New Mexico. When the South surrendered, Noble and his men were free to leave the post, where they’d continued to serve in Crowley’s absence. He’d turned over his duties to Miles Dougherty with relief and no regret, and had led his men out of the desert.
And now he was home.
Time to put his life back on track, to put his future plans in motion. The war, the West … and all that went with it were behind him now. This was the moment he’d dreamed of as a boy, as a student far from home for the first time, on dark, dreary nights when artillery sounded like distant thunder, in a cold, lonely tent in Maryland. It’s what he told himself he wanted more than anything while restless yearnings kept him from finding sound sleep on a lonesome frontier post.
Time to make good his promises, to vindicate his name, to right wrongs he’d once been powerless to alter.
So why was he feeling so unaffected by the attainment of that lifelong goal?
He knew the answer. It was wrapped up in one name, one face. Juliet. Having this without having her was somehow less than complete.
He shook off that thought because he’d vowed not to spoil his homecoming with hints of unhappiness. He was back where he belonged, and nothing would get in the way of that reunion. He needed to see his family, to reconnect with his friends and his former life. Then he would be strong enough to deal with what he didn’t have—and perhaps rectify the situation.
He rode into the center of Pride on a rented horse, his thrill at being back tempered by what he was afraid to find. How many of those he loved hadn’t made it home from the war or survived its devastation? Anticipation and dread knotted in his belly until there on the walk, untouched by time or trials, were figures tied so tightly to his past that it was as if four long years were stripped away.
Reeve, Patrice, and Starla, along with a man he didn’t know. They all spotted him at the same time.
He was hauled down from his rented horse and into Reeve Garrett’s familiar embrace. Having his ribs nearly crushed by his best friend brought the reality home, but it was seeing his parents soon after that made him believe it.
“Welcome back, son.”
He took the hand his father offered, giving it a firm shake. Judge Banning wasn’t the demonstrative type, but brightness glittered in his gaze.
“It’s good to be home, Judge. Mother.” He bent so that the delicate creature whose loveliness remained unfading could touch a kiss to his cheek.
“You look well, dear, so tanned and strong. The West must not have been as awful as I imagined. When I heard you were in that prison, I—” Her voice failed her.
“No more talk of what’s past,” the judge ordered. “Noble is where he belongs, and soon he will be working with me out of my office as if these last four years never happened.”
Noble’s smile froze. But because his homecoming wasn’t the right place to discuss his plans, especially plans that went contrary to everything his father stood for, he opted to let it go.
“Is there any chance you’ve kept any of my old clothes? I’m ready to get out of this stale uniform. Actually I’m more than ready to get out of uniform altogether.”
His mother took his arm. “Of course, dear. Everything is just as you left it.”
And more so. In his absence, his mother had made his room over into a shrine. His belongings were untouched and dust-free, as if he’d been amongst them every day for the past four years. All the awards he’d earned at the university, no matter how insignificant, were framed so that they hung proudly across his wall. He looked at them and at the accumulation of a lifetime and felt as though he were a stranger, intruding upon someone else’s past. He was no longer the boy who’d won medals at church for memorizing verse to make his parents proud. He could no longer remember the debates that garnered him plaques or the horse races that brought him trophies. They seemed such a distant part of who he was now.
Civilian clothes fitted differently. After years of butternut and gray and then blue and brass, his tucked shirt with its detachable collar, the snug silk brocade vest and loose-cut fawn-colored trousers over high-top shoes felt unnatural, almost insubordinate.
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For months he’d been obsessed with the pleasure of discarding the hated army uniform and the dreadful compromises it stood for. Now that the opportunity had arisen, he studied the Union blue of his jacket but could not cast it aside with contempt. Instead, he hung it carefully in his clothes cupboard until he could have it cleaned and folded away. Another memory of a life no longer his own.
The odd sense of detachment continued as he dined that evening with his friends at Glendower Glade. He’d practically grown up on those sloping green lawns with Reeve and his half-brother Jonah. Such high ideals he’d held then. He had been the epitome of the Southern gentleman—not at all like the man who sat before a wide-eyed audience, dispassionately telling of his adventures in the West.
Reeve leaned back in his chair to muse over their twists of fate. Noble remembered him as a restless youth, always on the outside, pretending that’s where he preferred to be. But now he looked content, the master of his father’s house, the husband of the only woman he’d ever loved. As it should be.
“So you were in command of a Union fort.” Reeve smiled at the irony.
“Why didn’t you just desert and come home?” Starla Fairfax demanded. She hadn’t changed. Her impulsive nature centered on self. The gorgeous flirt had spent their adolescent years in shameless pursuit of him. He wasn’t surprised that she’d come out of the war on top, dressed to the height of fashion, her beauty as flawless as ever. Like her brother, she seemed to have nine lives and the ability always to land on her feet. But what did surprise him was to see she’d taken a Northerner for a husband, and a banker to boot.
Hamilton Dodge had served with Reeve in the Union Army. They’d saved each other’s lives and formed an unbreakable bond that only such desperate trials could forge. He was compactly built, solid in his work ethic, vocal in his opinions, and totally different from what Noble would have thought Starla would have looked for in a husband. Completely against the strict rules of society her father insisted upon. There was a story there, one he’d pursue with interest.
Though they’d exchanged only a few words, Noble guessed that he and the little banker would get along just fine. Reeve had good instincts about people. And Noble could see the sharp intelligence and innate honesty in one who’d be a future ally within the narrow fold of Pride.
The Men of Pride County: The Rebel Page 24