Aggie

Home > Other > Aggie > Page 1
Aggie Page 1

by Peggy McKenzie




  Aggie

  BRIDES OF THE Rio Grande

  Peggy McKenzie

  Copyright 2020 by Peggy McKenzie

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means , including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design-Dar Dixon @ Wicked Smart Designs

  Editor-Trayce Layne @ 3C Edit Services

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  About this book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  More books in the series…

  Peggy McKenzie & Friends

  About the Author

  About this book

  BOOK SIX

  BRIDES OF THE RIO GRANDE SERIES

  Where it all began….

  Agnes Bohanan was the darling of the South. Her life was picture perfect—until the wretched Civil War took everything from her. Now, she’s an expectant widow with no family, no money, and no place to call home. But when a dear friend offers a solution, she fears she won't be able to pay the price he’s demanding.

  Hiram Hanover is an up-and-coming attorney from one of Boston’s most elite families. With his family’s wealth at his fingertips, nothing can keep him from reaching his dreams. But when he learns the beautiful woman he's loved for so long is alone and in serious trouble, he must devise a plan to save her.

  Will his solution tear their precious friendship apart or can he convince this woman who has lost so much to take one more chance—on him?

  Prologue

  Savannah, Georgia

  Twenty-six-year-old Hiram Hanover stood at the second-story window of his rented hotel room. Hidden behind the protective layers of dusty, tattered drapes, he watched the latest company of Union soldiers ride through town on the muddy street below. He knew his situation was quite desperate, but he could not—he would not—turn away from his duty.

  When the last soldier finally disappeared from view, he turned away and walked across the rough wooden floor to the makeshift desk made of fruit crates and broken barn wood stacked against the wall. He sat on the wobbly chair next to it and gathered his borrowed pen and paper in front of him. He had a letter to write—the most important letter he would ever write—and he had to get his words just right. Lives depended upon it.

  Hiram picked up the pen and dipped the metal tip into the ink well. His hand hovered over the paper to begin, but fear kept him from his task. He knew there was a good chance he could fail in his purpose. What then? What would happen to them all?

  He shook his head and stiffened his spine to refocus his courage. He inhaled a deep breath and placed his pen’s tip against the paper. And then, he began to write.

  February 21st, 1865

  My Dearest Aggie,

  First and foremost, I wish to again offer you my sincerest and most heartfelt condolences for the loss of your husband. James was an honorable man—an extraordinary man—who loved God, country, and his most cherished possession: you. I only wish it had been me who had fallen victim to the soldier’s gun that awful day instead of the man you loved . . . no, instead of the man you still love.

  Second, please let me offer my apologies for this lengthy post, but I feel it is imperative I use every persuasive skill I possess in order to convince you that a change must be made immediately. Time is of the essence, as you well know, and the consequences of inaction will likely be catastrophic.

  My sweet Aggie, please know how much my heart aches for you and your current situation. After all, it has only been a few short months since your husband was killed trying to defend your property. It is a sad state of affairs when the proximity of a man’s home dictates his position for or against one side or the other of this despicable war. I am truly sorry James’ neutrality could not protect him, or you, from the cruelties that abound around us all. I wish with all my heart I could have pled his case to the advancing Union Army, and I wish I could have spared us all the pain and sorrow now smothering our hopes and dreams with despair and heartache.

  As much as I wish I could go back in time and correct this monumental injustice, it is not within my power. All I can do now, my dear, is forge ahead and try to salvage what happiness there is to be had amidst the wreckage left by this wretched conflict of ideals.

  I have dawdled long enough; I shall get to the purpose of this letter without further hesitation. I love you, Agnes. That is no secret to anyone, I fear. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you dancing in your father’s arms at your coming out ball all those years ago. You were so beautiful you stole my breath away. I knew right then I had to make you mine. With my future as a successful attorney secured, I convinced myself I had a chance to capture your precious love.

  It was only when I saw you with James that I knew I did not stand a chance and that my seed of hope had died long before it had a chance to bloom. It was plain for anyone to see that you had already given your heart away to the handsome, charismatic James Bohanan. I knew I would have to be content with being your loyal and trusted friend. I hope I have done that role justice, Aggie, for I would never tarnish our friendship by allowing my selfish desires to take precedent over your happiness.

  The ugly and sad truth before us is that James is gone forever. His death puts you in an impossible situation that I am convinced I can remedy if you will only give me the chance.

  Your parents are with James, your home has been destroyed, and your lands have been scorched. All that is left to you now are your memories of a life well-lived, and your unborn child.

  This child that grows inside of you daily—James’ child—will need a loving father to support, to guide, and to love it. I want to be that father, Aggie. And I want more than anything to be the man you lean on in times of sorrow and celebrate with in times of joy. Please, let me be that man.

  As I have said before, time is of the essence. Your babe is due this summer, and since Savannah is no longer a safe place for any of us, I must beg you to consider my offer with all urgency. I have managed to purchase the last two remaining passages on a privateer’s ship heading north at first light. My family is in Boston. They will welcome you and your child with open arms. You will be safe and loved and well-cared for. I swear it.

  Before you think too harshly of me, please read on. It is only because of your dire situation that I approach you with this matter so soon after the loss of your beloved James. I consider you and James two of my dearest friends and I would never taint his memory in such a dishonorable manner were it not absolutely necessary no matter how deep my feelings for you go.

  I know your heart will always belong to your dearly, departed husband, and I cannot fault you for that. I just hope, in time, you will make one tiny corner of your heart available to me. I will bow to your lead and allow you the time and space you need in hope that one day you will look upon me with the fondness a wife holds for her husband. I swear to be devoted to you, and I will honor, love, and respect you, for all the days of our lives. You and your child will want for nothing. I offer you my solemn vow that I speak the truth straight from my heart.

  In a few short hours, the sun will rise and with it the possibility of a bright and hopeful future. My man, the one who brought you this letter, will be waiting outside your door to bring back your reply to me.

  I beg of
you, Aggie. Gather your courage and take a leap of faith. Put your trust in me, for as God is my witness, I will not fail you. You can place your trust in me.

  Yours sincerely,

  Hiram Hanover, Esq.

  Hiram rolled the letter and tied a ribbon around it. He had done his best. He had laid his heart wide open and he was offering this woman a future teeming with possibilities. Could she see the wisdom of his offer or would her grief blind her to the possibilities open to her and her unborn child?

  He stepped to the door and opened it to find the man he’d hired standing patiently in the hallway. Hiram handed the letter to him along with a coin.

  “Here’s half the payment for your time. You must wait for the lady’s response and bring her answer back to me. Only then will I pay you the rest of the money. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Hanover. I understand. Deliver this letter and return the lady’s answer back to you,” the man replied.

  “That’s right. Now get to it. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.” Hiram watched the wiry little man stuff the letter into his coat and disappear down the dark hall. His heart raced with anticipation and fear of the unknown. Would Aggie see the merit of his idea or would she misread his intentions and turn her back on him for good?

  He closed his hotel door and pulled down a chipped glass from the shelf above the mirror. Exhausted from the last few months of uncertainty and deprivation, he dropped onto the lumpy mattress and pulled a small bottle of Irish whiskey from his coat pocket. He had bought the expensive contraband from a passing tinker a week or so ago. This seemed a perfect time to drink it.

  Hiram poured a splash of the golden liquid into the cloudy glass and saluted his reflection in the mirror before he tossed the contents down his throat. “Now, we wait.”

  Chapter 1

  Boston, Massachusetts

  May 1865

  Agnes Bohanan Hanover sat at her dressing table next to the floor-to-ceiling window in her room. She could see the busy street below her second-story bedroom from her comfortable chair so she amused herself and watched.

  The large estate of the Hanover family left nothing to be desired. Her every whim was met with a quick staff that left no detail unnoticed. She could not have asked for anything more, and yet…

  Aggie slide open the vanity’s middle drawer and pulled out a picture of her husband. James. Tears stung her eyes, but what good did they do her? Nothing could bring her beloved husband back. All she could do to survive this hopeless situation she had already done.

  The baby inside her belly must have sensed her sadness for it chose that moment to remind her that there was still a part of James with her. A part of him she would bring into this world in just a few short months.

  A gentle knock at the door startled her. She quickly slid the picture back into the drawer and shoved it closed. She studied her image in the mirror and licked a finger to tame a few blonde curls surrounding her face. Dark circles formed shadows beneath her blue eyes. She looked tired. She was tired. And her weariness wasn’t just because of the baby she carried.

  The knock at the door grew more persistent.

  “Come in,” she said as she turned away from the image in the mirror and rose to meet her guest.

  The doorknob turned, and her new husband stepped through the door. “Good morning, my dear.” She could tell Hiram was hesitant to enter her private quarters by the way he eased into the room. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left for work this morning. Do you have everything you need? Can I get you anything? Are you hungry perhaps?” He stood just inside the door his fingers on the brim of his hat, spinning it in front of him.

  She hated that she dreaded his knock at her door even though he kept his visits to a minimum since they had arrived in Boston. And she hated that her reserved demeanor made Hiram feel uncomfortable.

  It wasn’t that she dreaded his company. On the contrary. He was her closest and dearest friend. She missed the laughter they shared. She missed his sense of humor. His wit. His insight on so many things. But most of all, she missed how she could confide in him when James was gone too long on business and she felt anxious.

  “I am fine, thank you.” She offered him a smile. He sent her a sweet smile in return. “Please, come in,” she swept her hand toward the pair of chairs separated by an ornate table in front of the bay window.

  “I can’t stay but a moment. I’m due in court this morning, but I did want to check on you before I left. Do you have everything you need, my dear?”

  Aggie took one of the chairs and Hiram sat in the other. She smoothed her dress taking her time in answering him. Finally, her gaze rose to meet his. “I’m fine, Hiram. Really I am. The baby is growing, and your family have been the consummate hosts. They leave nothing to be desired. Please, don’t worry so much about me. I’m fine. I promise.”

  He nodded and offered her another smile. This one less sure of itself than the first. “Good. Good to hear.” Once again, his words trailed off and the awkward silence between them returned. Perhaps a bit of conversation would help soften the tension.

  “Tell me about court. What do you do there all day?” she asked.

  His surprised gaze shot up. “You want to know about court?” Before she could reply, a knowing look settled on his face. “Really?” he asked, a slight grin telling her he was pleased she wanted to talk—to him.

  “Yes, court,” she repeated.

  “Er…yes. Yes…of course. Court,” her usually articulate husband rambled.

  She watched him stumble over his words for a moment and then in his delightful animated dialogue, he began to regale her with the inner workings of a barrister’s life in a Boston court of law.

  Aggie studied him while he spoke and wished things could be different. He was her dearest friend and closest confident as well as the only one she told about her bouts with melancholy. Even James hadn’t known how sad she could get. Sometimes the oppressing melancholy would become almost unbearable.

  Hiram chattered on about something he found amusing among his court cases and was regaling her with the details as she continued to study him.

  She had always been able to count on Hiram. When James was away and the silence of the big house was too much, she would send word to Hiram asking that he keep her company until James returned. And he always came, at least when he and his father were in Savannah on business. When he was back in Boston, they wrote to each other frequently. It helped her push back her loneliness when she and James moved to their farm outside of town.

  Hiram had been the rock she leaned against when James was killed and her beautiful home burned to the ground. Lost and alone, pregnant and destitute, Hiram had once again come to her rescue. She owed him so much.

  But now that they were married, there was a tension between them that could not be ignored. She felt responsible for Hiram’s unease. She knew he had romantic feelings for her. He had made that quite clear in his letter of proposal back in Savannah. She cared for Hiram a great deal. Perhaps even loved him on some level, but she still yearned for the life she and James had dreamed of. She wasn’t ready to move on from her previous life. At least not yet. It was too soon.

  “Well, my dear. I’ve enjoyed our visit this morning immensely and although I wish I could stay longer, duty calls. There is evil corruption to thwart and innocents to save from fates worse than death.” He stood and tipped his imaginary hat. “Ma’am.” His grin was infectious, and she found herself grinning back at him.

  She stood alongside him. “Wishing you a successful day, my friend.” Curtsying in response to his teasing, her smile faded when she rose and met his expression.

  Hiram’s face had fallen at the mention of the word friend and the awkward silence between them returned. It strained Aggie’s already fragile nerves. She felt as if she should say something more. Something to fix whatever this was happening between them.

  “Hiram. You…and your family…have been so kind and
gracious to me. I hope you know how grateful I am to you for—”

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated to me, Aggie. Gratitude is not something I desire. I’m not looking to be re-paid for anything I might have done to help you. Please don’t give it another thought.”

  Hiram stood and offered her a stiff bow. “It is my pleasure to look after you and that little one you carry. I know you aren’t ready to move on. After all, it’s only been a mere six months since James was killed. Most women would find it trying to cope with the mourning process alone, but you are coping with so much more. And I would never ask, or expect, you to shorten your mourning just because the war has made demands upon us which we could not have foreseen.

  “Just know this, my dear, sweet Aggie. I am here for you no matter what happens, and I will be here in whatever capacity you decide is right for you. There is no measure of time upon which you must make any decisions, now or in the future. You will be welcome in this home no matter what the future holds for us. You and that precious life you carry will be cherished and protected as long as I have life in this body.”

  Aggie watched a sad smile stretch his lips, and yet there was no humor behind his eyes. His sadness made her feel guilty, and she wished she could do something to make it go away. She owed him that much, didn’t she?

  “Hiram, I know this situation is difficult for you, and I’m truly sorry that I’m causing you such pain. I pray you know that…I’m trying. I’m truly trying to move forward. It’s just that…”

 

‹ Prev