Central Park Rendezvous

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  For the first time Permelia imagined what the men under William’s command must have felt when they stared into those commanding eyes, ignited with intent and purpose.

  But she wasn’t under his command.

  She spun around and stormed toward Jackson, leveling her gun upon the knave. “Leave my property at once, sir, or I will fire upon you.”

  Jackson planted his sword in the dirt and leaned on the hilt. “Hiding behind a woman, eh, Wolfe?”

  The heavy gun shook in her grip. Her hands grew moist. Perspiration slid down her back. But she wouldn’t relent. She couldn’t let this man hurt William. Or ruin their lives as he seemed intent on doing.

  She heard the crunch of gravel behind her. William appeared at her side. Placing a hand on the barrel of her gun, he gently lowered it, admiration in his gaze. “I must settle this once and for all, don’t you see, Permelia?” His voice, gentle at first, hardened with conviction. “The man will simply come back at another time. Most likely after I’ve left and you’re here all alone.” He brushed a thumb over her jaw.

  “And I couldn’t stand for that.” He flattened his lips. “Now do as I say.” Then turning, he stomped away.

  Permelia gave Jackson a venomous look. He chuckled. Clutching her rifle, she headed toward the kitchen house. Fear curdled in her belly. She could barely gather her thoughts. Oh, Lord, please protect William. Please let no one die today.

  Within minutes, Permelia hurried a wide-eyed Martha and jittery Ruth in through the back entrance of the main house. After checking on Annie, who was sulking in the library, Permelia bolted all the doors then dashed to the front window of the parlor. She leaned the rifle against the wall and rubbed her aching hand.

  Sunlight glared off Jackson’s saber as he swung it before him with ease. Attired in his dress uniform, complete with blue striped coat lined with brass buttons, it was obvious he had complete confidence in his skills and intended to use the entire heinous performance as a means to impress Annie.

  “I wish Elijah were here,” Martha said as she took her daughter’s hand and stood to the left of the window.

  Annie swept into the room. “What is all the fuss about?” She pushed back the curtains and cocked her head.

  “Jackson has called William out to a duel.” Permelia bit her lip as an idea sprang into her mind. “Perhaps you could stop them, Annie?”

  “Why would I do that?” Annie peered out the window. Her eyes lit up. “They are dueling over me.” She released a satisfied sigh. “How romantic, don’t you think?”

  Martha clucked her tongue but gave no other indication of the disgust written on her face.

  Permelia cringed. “How can you say such a thing? One of them could get hurt, possibly killed.”

  “Oh, fiddle. Boys will be boys.” Annie plucked out her fan and fluttered it around her face. “It’s hot in here. Open the window. I want to hear what’s going on.”

  “William said not to.” Permelia gripped her sister’s arm. “Please, Annie. You must stop this.”

  Annie looked at her as if she’d lost her mind before tugging from her grasp.

  The sight of William drew Permelia’s gaze back out the window. He stormed into view, his service sword in hand. He stopped to speak to Jackson, hopefully to try and talk some sense into him. Please, Lord, let him succeed.

  “I’m going onto the porch. I can’t see anything from here,” Annie announced, exiting the room before Permelia could protest.

  The front door opened and angry voices rode upon a burst of heated wind. Grabbing the rifle, Permelia instructed Martha to stay put then followed Annie.

  “Next time, don’t send one of your lackeys to do your dirty work for you.” William tossed his hat onto the dirt and flung his sword out before him.

  Jackson smiled and opened his arms wide. “Your wish is my command, Colonel.”

  “You could have injured one of the ladies,” William added.

  “A Confederate would not injure his own.”

  “Tell that to Permelia. Your man held a knife to her throat.”

  Jackson’s gaze shot to Permelia and then over to Annie, still batting her fan about her face.

  “Jackson, whatever are you doing?” Annie feigned disapproval. “You stop misbehaving at once.” Her flippant tone brought a smile to Jackson’s lips.

  Bile lurched into Permelia’s throat.

  “You look stunning, love.” Jackson dipped a bow. “I fear I must inform this man of our engagement in the only language he understands.”

  William faced Annie, anger rumbling across his features. “If the lady would break off our engagement and tell me to leave, we could avoid this foolishness.”

  Annie seemed to falter beneath both men’s gazes. She leaned against the post.

  Permelia whispered prayers that her sister would finally speak the truth. “Tell them, Annie, for goodness’ sake, before someone gets hurt.”

  Annie slapped her fan shut and flattened her lips, glancing up at the sky as if it contained the answer. “I don’t rightly know what to say.”

  Permelia closed her eyes, trying to corral her anger. This was all just a game to her sister. “Choose one of them, dear sister, or your choice will be made for you,” she seethed.

  Annie tilted her head. “Then let it be made. And may the best man win.”

  William ran a hand through his hair and snorted his disgust. He turned to Jackson. “Regardless, you attempted to have me murdered in my bed. And now you dare challenge me. I cannot allow such an affront to pass.”

  Jackson leaned on his sword. “To the death then? Or until one of us forfeits.” He snickered.

  Annie gasped. Her wide eyes shot to Permelia as if she only now understood the deadly implications.

  But it was too late. With a swoosh of his blade, Jackson sauntered to William, leveling it at his chest.

  William slapped the offending sword away with an ominous ching and eyed his opponent. Jackson circled him then swept down on William’s right. Blade met blade with a resounding clang that filled the air and sent a shiver through Permelia.

  William flung his sword back and forth with speed and agility, countering each of Jackson’s blows. Jackson halted. Sweat shone on his handsome brow. William charged forward. Their blades rang together as he forced Jackson back over the dirt.

  Permelia pressed a hand over her rattling chest.

  Jackson’s face reddened. “You’re more skilled than I thought, Colonel.”

  “And you’re not nearly as skilled as I thought.”

  Hatred fumed from Jackson’s eyes. “We shall see.” He spun about and dipped to William’s left, striking him on the leg. A red stripe appeared across his trousers.

  Both Permelia and Annie gasped at the same time. Permelia glanced at her sister, wondering if she truly cared for William, but Annie’s eyes were riveted on Jackson.

  “Ah ha!” Jackson boasted, strolling in a circle of victory as he caught his breath.

  William, however, seemed barely out of breath. Neither did he seem concerned. Instead he lunged toward Jackson, this time lifting his blade high. Caught off guard, Jackson turned and met the attack with equal force, their blades locking. William grunted as he forced the man backward then shoved him against the bark of a tree.

  The arrogant grin slipped from Jackson’s face, replaced by fear.

  “Don’t hurt him, William,” Annie whined.

  William shoved his blade toward Jackson’s shoulder. The man slipped away. The point stuck in the tree.

  William tried to pull it free.

  Jackson grinned, slowly approaching him like a cougar on wounded prey.

  Abandoning the blade, William plucked a knife from his boot and faced Jackson.

  “Perhaps you’ll forfeit the fight, Colonel, and leave Virginia immediately?” Jackson sneered. “Rather that than suffer a humiliating death in front of the ladies.”

  William wiped the sweat from his brow. “Not until you promise the same.”


  Jackson slashed toward William.

  William leaped out the way. No fear, no emotion at all, registered on his face. Just the confident expression of a warrior.

  “I grow tired of this dance, Colonel.” Jackson’s face hardened and he stormed toward William in a vicious onslaught. He thrust the tip of his blade toward William’s chest.

  Permelia screamed.

  Tucking in his arm, William dipped and rolled across the dirt, landing on his feet. He thrust his boot in the air, knocking Jackson’s blade from his hand and sending him sprawling to the ground. Before the man could recover, William picked up the sword and leveled the tip against Jackson’s pristine blue coat. The man’s eyes erupted into volcanoes of hatred. “Go ahead, Colonel. Kill me.” He gulped for air, thrusting out a defiant chin.

  “No!” A woman’s scream filled the air as Annie dashed down the stairs and knelt before Jackson, shielding him with her billowing skirts.

  Stunned, William backed up and lowered his sword. So Annie did love Jackson, after all. Sudden pain throbbed in William’s thigh. His legs gave out and he sank to the ground. In an instant, an angel appeared beside him, embracing him, her tears dampening his cheeks. Like an elixir they stirred his soul back to life. Permelia. Plucking her handkerchief from within her pocket she pressed it on his wound. Terror, relief, and something else he couldn’t place burned in her gaze. “I was so worried, William.”

  He reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Over her shoulder, Jackson rose to his full height. Annie clutched his arm. Jealous fury faded from his features, replaced by a conciliatory respect. He dipped his head slightly. “You have won fairly, Colonel. And because I still have my life, I will honor my vow to never call on Annie again.” He kissed her cheek, his face somber and determined. Then nudging her aside, he mounted his horse and rode away.

  Lifting a hand to her mouth, Annie fled into the house, hysterical sobs trailing in her wake.

  Permelia helped William to his feet. Grabbing his sword, he sheathed it and drew her close, kissing her forehead.

  “I’ve never seen such bravery, William.” Permelia leaned against his shirt. “Forgive Annie. When she calms down, she’ll see things differently, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not of the same mind.” William huffed. Why did this sweet woman always try to spare his feelings and defend her sister? Releasing Permelia, he wiped the hair from her face. He should tell her what his heart was bursting to say. That he loved her. That he wanted to marry her, not Annie. He opened his mouth to do so when a glare blinded his eyes, drawing his gaze to something on the ground. Leaning over, he picked up a coin. His coin. Shock sped through him.

  He flipped it over. The coin he’d given Annie as a pledge of their love and marriage. He gazed at Permelia, confused.

  Her eyes shifted from the coin to him. Her face paled.

  “Where did this come from?” he asked.

  She glanced down.

  Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her gaze to his. “I know you won’t lie to me.”

  “It must have fallen from my pocket.”

  He stepped back, more shocked than angry. Annie had already made her sentiments quite clear. But what of Permelia? Yes, she had kissed him, and he thought he’d seen affection in her eyes more than once. But perhaps that was simply his desperate yearning for it to be true. Now he longed to hear the words from her mouth. “Why was it in your pocket?”

  But instead of answering him, her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. Then clutching her skirts, she dashed into the house.

  Permelia slammed the door of her chamber and fell into a heap on the floor. Dropping her head into her hands, she sobbed. Sobbed to release the terror that had gripped her as she’d watched Jackson and William duel. Sobbed to release the shame of her feelings for him. Sobbed because she couldn’t tell him the real reason she kept the coin in her pocket. If he discovered that Annie had tossed it from the window, that she thought so little of it, William would be wounded far deeper than the cut on his thigh. Oh, why hadn’t she given the coin back to Annie? Why had she been so selfish? Thank You, Lord, for protecting him. But please send him and Annie to New York to marry. I do not think I can stand this torture anymore.

  Opening her trunk, she pulled out the letters and held them to her nose. They smelled of gunpowder and William. Wailing filtered down the hall from Annie’s chamber, pricking Permelia’s guilt. She should go to her. Comfort her. But she knew her sister’s tears were for Jackson. Confusion tore through Permelia as desire and duty fought their own duel within her. She covered her ears but could not muffle her sister’s sobs. Finally Permelia left the room, went downstairs and out the back door. A walk about the grounds would do her good, clear her mind, give her a chance to hear from God.

  William approached Permelia’s chamber door. It stood slightly ajar, yet no sounds came from within. He knew he shouldn’t be sneaking about a lady’s bedchambers, but his tormented thoughts would allow him no peace until he found out the truth of where Permelia’s sentiments lay. More importantly, why had she run away when he found the coin? He must know, and he must know tonight. For tomorrow he had to leave, report back to his commanding officer, serve out his remaining months in the Army.

  He eased the door aside. “Permelia.” No answer. He inched inside, gave a quick scan of the room, and upon finding it empty, moved to the foot of a four-poster bed, decorated with a simple quilt. A dressing table and mirror stood against the far wall beside an armoire. On the other side of the room, a writing desk, littered with pens, paper, and a Bible sat beneath the window.

  Pain lanced through his thigh, and he pressed a hand over the wound. At least the bleeding had stopped. A burst of wind blew through the window, stirring something on the floor. Paper crinkled, and William knelt to find a bundle of letters tied with a thread beside an open trunk. Gathering them, he started to place them back in the chest when their familiarity struck him.

  His heart stopped. Sliding the first one out from the cord, he unfolded it and scanned the words.

  His letters. His letters to Annie.

  The tap tap of steps and a tiny gasp drew William’s gaze to the door, where Permelia stood, her hair tousled by the wind and smelling of wildflowers and horses. He held the letters up to her, unable to speak, unable to find the words. Unsure if he found them, that they’d be very kind. He could think of only one reason she would have them. Anger replaced confusion in his gut. Anger that this woman, this precious woman he thought he loved, had betrayed him!

  Chapter 9

  Permelia entered her chamber. A tremble threatened to buckle her legs. “I can explain.”

  William held up the bundle of letters, one of them open in his hand. “Why do you have the letters I wrote to Annie?”

  Permelia tried to speak, but the words knotted in her throat. He would hate her if he knew. And she couldn’t bear that.

  He glanced at the letters then back at her, shock and pain drawing lines on his forehead. “You.”

  Making her way to the bedpost, Permelia clung to it, afraid her legs would crumple beneath her.

  “You wrote the letters I received,” he repeated.

  She couldn’t meet his gaze. Couldn’t bear the agony in his voice, let alone the pain she would see in his eyes. “Not all.”

  “How many?” The agony turned to anger. He marched toward her and thrust the letters in her face. “How many?”

  She flinched. “I started writing you after the occupation.” She finally raised her gaze to his. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, William. You mistook my P. A. Shaw for Annie.”

  Fire burned in his eyes. “So my mistake gave you license to pretend to be your sister?”

  A tear slid down her cheek. She batted it away. “I hoped only to spare your feelings.”

  “Spared from wha—” William jerked as if someone struck him. “Of course. Annie stopped writing to me.” He took up a pace, his boots thundering over the wooden floor. “When Jackson Steele ca
me into town, no doubt.”

  Though longing to ease his pain, Permelia clung to the bedpost and said nothing. All her attempts to spare him, to comfort him, had only caused him more grief in the end.

  “You lied to me.” He halted. The rage on his face stabbed her heart. “You should have told me the truth.”

  “I couldn’t.” She managed past the sorrow bunching in her throat. “You were out on the battlefield, enduring horrors beyond imagination. How could I tell you that your fiancée fell in love with another man?”

  He snorted and ran a hand through his hair. “Sweet, sweet Permelia.” He spat the words as if they were a curse. His eyes latched upon the letters. His face reddened. “I shared such intimacies with you.”

  “And I, you.” Things she had never shared with anyone.

  He shook his head. “And the coin?” He plucked it from his waistcoat pocket and held it up. Sunlight angled through the window and sought it out, setting it aglow. “Did Annie toss this aside as easily as she did our love?”

  Permelia wiped another tear with the back of her hand and sank onto the bed.

  “Why did you have it?” he demanded.

  What did it matter now if she told him the truth? He was lost to her anyway. “I carried it because it made me feel close to you.”

  He flinched, his eyes narrowing.

  “Because I love you.” She looked up at him, his visage blurred through her tears.

  Her words seemed to loosen the tightness in his face. But then his eyes narrowed again. “Love doesn’t deceive.” Tossing the letters into the trunk, he stormed from her chamber.

  William pulled his stool to the rickety dresser and sat, releasing a heavy sigh. Light from a single candle flickered over the blank sheet of paper, daring him to write. But words escaped him. At least the right words. He propped his elbows on the dresser and dropped his head into his hands. A breeze from the slave quarters’ window wafted around him, bringing the scent of primrose as katydids chirped a nighttime chorus.