A man’s voice came from the right. Westley left the front door open and strode into the parlor, and the sight within ignited an inferno in his gut.
A soldier in blue leaned over Miss Whitaker, who lay sprawled out over one of the chairs in the parlor. An askew tea tray covered the parlor table. Westley dropped his cane, and in two strides had the man’s shoulder in his grasp.
He flung the man around and gathered his lapels in his fists. The other man’s brown eyes widened.
“Who are you?” Westley growled.
“Corporal Briggs.”
Westley’s nose came close to touching the other man’s bulbous one. “And just what, Corporal, are you doing with the lady?”
The man frowned, and brought up his hands to shove Westley away, but Westley tightened his grip on the fabric near the scoundrel’s throat.
“She fainted!” He reached up and grabbed onto Westley’s forearms. “I merely tried to rouse her. I assure you, nothing unseemly occurred!”
Westley shoved the man away, the tinges of rage at the edges of his vision clearing. What had caused him to act so rashly? He raked his gaze down the startled man. The fellow stared at him, seeming unsure what he should do. Deciding the man would not soon retaliate against Westley’s aggression, he stepped over to Ella and dropped to his knee. He reached up and cupped her pale face. “Ella? Ella, can you hear me?”
She stirred and nestled her face into his hand. The heat pulsing through him shifted, and he leaned closer. “Come now, you must wake.”
She gave a soft moan and her eyelids fluttered. “There you are,” she whispered. She turned her lips into his hand. Westley froze, the feel of her silky lips pressing a kiss onto his palm doing something to him he could not describe.
She turned her head back, rubbing her cheek back through his hand. Ella’s eyes lazily lifted, and she smiled. His pulse quickened. Was this what she looked like when her guard fell? Warm green eyes that sparkled and lips that yielded to softness rather than hard lines? “Ella….”
Suddenly her eyes flew wide and she lurched. “Oh!”
Westley leaned back, but did not rise. “Are you all right?”
She blinked rapidly at him, wariness falling over her eyes like a dirty veil. “What are you doing?”
Despite himself, he smiled. Ah, the dragon once more. “It seems, my dear, that you fainted in the company of this good soldier.”
“I….” Her nose wrinkled. “Oh, my.” She sat up and ran a hand across her tresses. “I am terribly sorry.”
Westley awkwardly rose, the flair of forgotten pain in his leg stealing his breath.
She placed her fingers to her flushed cheeks. “He said that the doctor….” Her eyes flashed and she jumped to her feet. She began to sway and Westley grabbed her elbow. She blinked at him. “Where is the doctor?”
Westley eased her back into the seat and knelt beside her once more, even though the effort caused perspiration to prick his brow. “I will have to go to a Federal outpost to find one.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and Westley hurried on. “But see here,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I have gotten him medicines for the cough until I can fetch a doctor.”
The moisture in her eyes increased and spilled over. Blast. He’d hoped that the offering would be enough to keep that anguish that wrenched his gut from appearing in her eyes.
She reached out and laid a hand on his sleeve. “You bought him medicines?”
“Yes. Two kinds. One you feed him and the other to rub on. They are both supposed to ease the coughing.”
Before he could react, Ella threw her arms around his neck. “I thank you.” Her words, so sweet, tickled his skin. Then, just as quickly as she embraced him, she flung him away. “Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I…I shouldn’t have, I’m terribly sorry.”
His mouth twitched. “No need for apology. I am glad you are pleased with my effort.”
He painstakingly rose and helped her to her feet, making certain she would not wobble again. “Here. Take these on up to him.” He pressed the bottles in her hands.
Her eyes settled on his, questions swimming in their emerald depths. Then as though remembering the man they both had forgotten shared the room with them, she cut her eyes to the soldier. “Thank you. If you would kindly see to this gentleman, I will go tend Lee.”
“Certainly.” Westley watched her go, things inside him feeling set a kilter.
The other man cleared his throat. “Well, I must admit I had my doubts about you and this household, sir.”
Westley regarded him with lifted eyebrows.
He straightened his jacket. “You must understand that people have come up with all manner of tales to avoid paying their taxes. It would seem, however, that at least part of her story is true.”
Westley watched the wiry man run a hand through his blond hair. “Part?”
The corporal’s gaze crawled across him. “Obviously, the affection of man and wife is between you, so even though she wears the black, it would seem she belongs to you.”
Westley let the words slide over him, trying to ignore the odd feeling they tried to stoke.
The man shifted his weight. “She also stated something else about you. Do you know what it was?”
Westley shrugged. She could have said any manner of things. “As you are being vague, I do not know to what you are referring.”
“Hmm.”
Aggravation brought by a lack of sleep and the biting pain in his leg slaughtered Westley’s patience. “See here, Corporal Briggs. I am Major Remington—Third West Virginia Calvary Regiment, Third brigade, Army of the Shenandoah—and I would like to know what business you have in my house.”
The man instantly straightened and snapped to attention. “Forgive me, sir, I had to be sure. But I’m certain you can understand our caution with such things.”
Westley begrudgingly acknowledged the truth in the man’s statement and forced his anger out with a long breath. “I do. Take your ease.”
The man relaxed as he looked Westley over. “Medical furlough, sir?”
The reminder sent another wave of searing pain down his leg, but he refused to reach for the cane that still lay on the floor where he’d dropped it. “I was injured at Sayler’s Creek. I have been given leave to see to family matters after my father’s passing, and I will return north and to duty thereafter.”
The man bobbed his head. “Very good, sir. Seeing as you are a Federal officer and therefore a citizen of good standing,” he said, plucking papers from inside his blue frock, “then once the taxes are paid and the proper forms signed, all will be in order.”
Westley accepted the papers and unfolded them. Line after line of assessments filled the page. “You are sure these are correct?”
The man shrugged. “I delivered what I was given, sir.”
Westley glanced up at him and he diverted his gaze. “If you have any questions, though, Major, you can present them to Lieutenant Colonel Larson in town. He has an office in the old bank.”
Westley clasped the papers so tightly they crinkled. “Please inform him that I shall call upon him tomorrow to settle the affairs.”
“Very good, sir.” The man turned and looked over his shoulder. “Thank your wife for her hospitality. I can see my own way out.”
He snapped a salute and then left without waiting for a response. Westley watched him through the window until he disappeared around the bend. Then he let out the air that burned in his lungs and sat down to rub the ache.
He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Trepidation thrummed in his chest and pumped its way through his veins. If the numbers on the papers were correct, then all of his money in Washington wouldn’t cover his father’s debt. Even if he took out every cent, he would still be deficient. Westley rubbed his temples and tried to ease the thought that repeated in his head with each contraction of his heart.
He was going to lose Belmont.
Ella rubbed the downy hair on Lee’s he
ad, relieved to see him sucking on the cloth she’d dipped in the medicine. It had taken her an enormous amount of effort yesterday, but she’d accomplished it.
“I still can’t believe you done got him to suck on that rag.”
Ella swelled with pride at Sibby’s words. In this, at least, she had not failed. Lee looked up at her, his little eyes growing heavy. “I just hope it works.”
So far, the elixir seemed to make him rest more peacefully last night. She hoped this morning he would start to eat, but the elixir made him quite sleepy, and he still didn’t take much milk because whenever he was awake, the coughs caused him to be unable to nurse. If he got too weak, Ella feared he would not be able to recover.
Sibby mumbled something and swung off the bed to place her feet on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
Sibby looked at her like she were a dullard. “I needs to get up.”
Ella shook her head. “You need to wait until I get the major before you get up. You know that.”
“Can’t.”
Ella pursed her lips. “And why not?”
“Cause he ain’t here.”
She hadn’t heard him leave. “Oh? Where has he gone?”
Sibby rose and balanced on one foot, holding on to the bed for support. “He said he was agoin’ to the army post.”
The declaration took Ella by surprise, and she looked down at Lee to hide the disappointment that might betray her by appearing on her face. Her wee one had drifted off to sleep.
He looked peaceful as Ella laid him in the crib and draped a crocheted blanket over top of him before turning back to Sibby. “Has the major already returned to duty?” Without the courtesy of a goodbye?
Ella chided herself. The man did not owe her that. Or anything else, for that matter. He had been more than generous by even allowing her to remain in his home, seeing as she had both insulted him and lied to him.
Besides, wouldn’t his absence be a good thing? It certainly would be easier without him here. The way that man unsettled her…well, she couldn’t deal with that on a daily basis, now could she? And they still hadn’t discussed the things shared across her quilt….
“No,” Sibby said, pulling her from her muddled thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Ella replied, embarrassed that she’d been caught contemplating Major Remington. “What did you say?”
“I said no, Major Westley didn’t go back to workin’ in the army.” She shrugged. “Least, not yet. He done said he was goin’ after a doctor.”
Of course. How ridiculously foolish of her. He’d said he hoped to find one at an army post yesterday after she’d lost her senses in the parlor. How could she have so soon forgotten something so incredibly important? Ella swept a loose lock back into her chignon and pinned it, feeling a wave of relief. “I do hope he finds one.”
She told herself the only reason she was comforted by the news was because the wee one still needed to see a doctor. And not at all because it meant Westley hadn’t left for good.
Drat. She’d thought of him with the intimacy of his first name again. She really must cease doing that.
Sibby tried for a step on her injured ankle and swayed.
“Sibby!” Ella leapt forward and slipped under Sibby’s arm. “What’s gotten into you? You can’t just walk off on your own.”
Sibby groaned. “I was feelin’ better and the swellin’ done gone down some.”
“You still can’t walk.”
Sibby took a moment to answer, as though there were anything she could come up with that would change Ella’s mind.
“You reckon Major Westley be mindin’ if I use one of his canes?”
Ella almost chuckled, but then realized Sibby was serious. She wagged her head. “I don’t think he would like you up and about, risking making that ankle worse and making you stay in bed all the longer.”
Sibby considered her a moment. “You’s probably right.”
Ella started to turn her back to the bed.
“But I still gots somethin’ I need to do.”
Ella lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “All right. What is it you need to do?”
Sibby’s gaze probed at Ella from the corner of one slanted eye and then she straightened her already stiff spine. “I needs to go to the kitchen.”
Ella balked. “That’s all the way down the stairs! You can’t do that.”
Sibby hesitated, and then to Ella’s surprise, consented. “I reckon you’s right.”
Finally, some sense. Ella steered Sibby back to the bed. “Good, then. The major wouldn’t be happy with me if I let you fall into trouble.”
Sibby gave her a funny look as she settled on top of the quilt. “I needs you to send Basil up here.”
“Why? If you need something from the kitchen, I can fetch it for you.”
Sibby shook her head adamantly. “Ain’t nothin’ like that. I need to talk her ’bout sumthin’. She should be in the kitchen.”
Pushing aside annoyance she knew she shouldn’t feel, Ella tried to remain pleasant. “Fine.” She paused in the doorway. “Would you like another drought of the laudanum? You’re looking a mite peaked.”
Sibby pursed her lips, then let out a huff. “No, I don’t need none. It don’t hurt near as bad as it did before.”
Unconvinced, Ella crossed back over to the bed and peered closer at the swelling still making Sibby’s ankle a little puffy. But it did look better than it had when she’d first injured it. Perhaps it was not as bad as they feared. Besides, Sibby would know her own pain level. Ella brushed her hands down her skirt. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”
“Thank you, Miss Ella.” A strange look came into her eyes. “You is right kind.”
Ella smiled, peeked into the crib to be certain Lee slept peacefully, and then slipped down the stairs to find Basil. The girl had been scarce these last couple of days, hardly showing up in the kitchen and never underfoot as she had been when Ella had first arrived.
Ella found the kitchen cold and empty, and though she doubted she’d find Basil anywhere in the house, she checked every corner just to be certain. She even poked her head into the smokehouse and cellar, but didn’t see a soul.
Ella turned back to the rear porch. She’d just have to tell Sibby the girl had not come to the house today. She paused and tapped her chin. Sibby did seem intent on speaking to Basil, and if she wasn’t at the house…well, then Ella knew where she might find her.
She looked out toward the field that stretched out behind the yard. This would be the perfect time to see what they kept so secretive back there. With the major gone, Sibby in bed, and Lee taking a nap….
Ella turned on her heel and lifted her work dress above the tall grass before she could change her mind. She made it across the yard and to the small line of trees beyond it where she’d heard Basil singing that day she’d discouraged Ella from crossing over the deep rut in the ground. She slipped into the trees and regarded the gouge in the earth, a stream of muddy water languidly carrying leaves and bits of debris from one location to another.
Ella wrinkled her nose. The creek might prove to be a bit of an obstacle. She set her shoulders. Well, if Basil could do it, so could she. Ella glanced around. No one moved in the yard, and only the sound of a chattering squirrel met her ears. If she were to fall, only the twittering birds would laugh at her humiliation. She tugged her skirt and petticoat up to her knees and made a mighty leap.
Her foot caught on the bank on the other side and she slipped. Ella churned her feet, but only succeeded in sliding farther down. Finally, the toes of her already badly worn shoes caught and she scrambled up the other side. She brushed her palms off on her skirt and examined it. She’d smeared a bit of dirt on the front where she’d hit her knees, but otherwise she was none the worse for wear.
Ella straightened herself and picked her way through the scraggly trees clinging to this side of the bank and stepped out into another open field. This one seemed even less tended than t
he one closer to the house. Forgotten stalks of picked-clean cotton plants reached for the sky like bony fingers from the grave. No wind stirred them, as though even the breeze didn’t wish to wake the dead.
Just ahead, a path emerged through the tangle where the passage of feet bent the stalks into submission. Ella held her skirts as close to her sides as she could and picked her way through the fingers that tried to snag her fabric.
A thin line of trees waited on the other end of the sea of dead cotton stems. It seemed as though it took her an hour to make her way across, her heart hammering in her chest in slow motion. What would someone do if they saw her out here alone? She knew all too well that lawless men and bushwhackers roamed freely and could appear from anywhere.
If she raised a scream, would Sibby hear her? Even if she did, what would the injured woman be able to do about it? Likely, Ella’s cries would only bring more evil men from hiding.
She quickened her pace, ignoring the sounds of snagged and ripping cloth. Did a shadow move over there, out of the corner of her eye?
She set her teeth and lengthened her stride. It’s nothing. There’s no one out here after me. The thought did nothing to ease the quickening of her breath.
By the time she reached the miniscule cover of the trees, her heart felt as though it might leap from underneath her bodice and flop upon the ground like a fish. Ella put her fingers to her cheeks in an effort to cool them.
Safe. All is well. No one but me and the bonny birds…
Ella repeated the words until her breathing returned to normal. She squeezed her eyes shut, only to have them fly open when a strange noise arrested her attention and reminded her that she would do better to remain unseen. Ella ducked behind a twisted cypress and peered out to the next field.
There. The settlement Basil said Ella should never visit. Two lines of cottages stood in neat rows, some of them even with whitewashed walls. Behind each of them on this side, a small fenced garden boasted rows of vibrant plants soon to be teeming with ripe vegetables. Dark-skinned women in bright headscarves worked hoes or stood around talking in the sunshine while little ones ran around their skirts.
In His Eyes: A Civil War Romance Page 19