Ashes in the Wind (18 page)

The pastor scowled in disagreement. “You’d never guess it from his language.”

Leala could not bely them, but she sought to temper their judgment of Alaina. “We must make allowances,” she bade them. “Only last night Doctor Brooks dropped by to tell us that—uh—Al’s oldest brother is on the missing list and presumed dead. Both of Al’s parents are gone, the middle boy, and
now the older brother, too. There has been much of grief and pain for that poor child.”

Cole rubbed at his brow as if he sought to soothe away the persistent ache that throbbed there. He could better understand the lad’s tears now, and Al had a right to them. The boy had lost so many of the ones he loved.

Alaina sat in her room and further strained the sorry condition of her hat, twisting it in anguished hands against the need to cry out. Sobs racked her body, but she had to choke them back. She could hear Roberta’s wails of disappointment piercing the heavy walls of the house, and she longed to give vent to her own bitter hurt. But many questions would be raised by a chorus of bawling females.

There was no question in her mind what had happened. Roberta had vehemently vowed that she would marry Cole, and Alaina groaned within herself, knowing she had witlessly trussed him up like roasting fowl for the woman.

Cole’s voice came from the front yard, and Alaina rose and went to stand beside the French doors. The sun was climbing over the treetops in the east, and the sky was a vibrant hue of fuchsia. Her eyes followed Cole as he moved about in the yard below. After a moment’s discussion with the sergeant, he took a trooper’s horse, swung into the saddle and departed the Craighugh estate. As he rode away, Roberta ceased her caterwauling, and then, in a moment, the squeak of her bed betrayed where she would spend the greater part of her day. Leala’s weary footsteps marked her passage to her bedroom, and the house grew quiet. There would be no opening of the store today.

M
IDMORNING
found Alaina finished with a leisurely bath that had been free from even Dulcie’s attention. The housekeeper was understandably petulant and uncommunicative. She didn’t like the idea, any more than her master, of a Yankee in the family. The house was strangely silent, and Alaina could guess the events of the early hours had unduly wearied the Craighughs.

With a ragged sigh, Alaina laid out the black gown she had worn too often for her age, tossing beside it the black-veiled bonnet, high-heeled slippers and corset. She could not bring herself to return to the hospital this morning. Instead, she would go and see Bobby Johnson put to rest, since his own loved ones could not be there. At his graveside, she would pass a silent tribute and a moment of mourning for her brother. Then, as before, she would put the sadness behind her and carry on.

She made so bold as to have Jedediah bring about the Craighughs’ carriage and fine-spirited horse, for there was small chance the family would be using them before noon. Several blocks away from her destination, she left Jedediah with the buggy and, lowering the dark veil over her bonnet, walked the rest of the way alone. At the cemetery a
long row of whitewashed brick “ovens” stood ready to receive the caskets. It was in these three-tiered kilnlike tombs that the dead were laid to rest.

Alaina halted near the end of a row of tombs, her heart suddenly lurching within her bosom. Cole Latimer stood with the burial detail, and the sight of his tall, lean form made her feel suddenly faint. Though other men were close about him and similarly dressed, she saw only him, for he had become as familiar to her as anything she could name. But there was no reason for dismay, she chided herself. If he noticed her at all, he would never associate her with Al beneath the covering of her veil, nor with the woman he had made love to in the night, for he believed that to be Roberta. Yet the quaking in her limbs could not be stilled.

Biting a trembling lip. Alaina gathered courage from an unknown source and mingled with other black garbed women, many with young children at their skirts. She wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible while the burial proceedings were conducted. There was a long line of simple pine caskets, all neatly draped with Union flags. For some fallen soldiers, this was only a temporary resting place until their kin could claim the bodies or the war was over.

The chaplain finished his prayers over the first coffin, and the detail, at a command from Captain Latimer, pushed the box into the chamber, then moved to the next. Under the present stricture, the only way Cole had been able to attend Bobby Johnson’s funeral was to volunteer to be in charge of the burial detail, definitely not one of the more popular chores.

He was still several ovens away from the private’s coffin when he glanced around and saw a
small, slim woman pause before it. She wore the black of mourning, and after bowing her head in a brief prayer, she tenderly placed a small nosegay of flowers on the head of the bannered box. In some puzzlement, Cole watched the trim figure quickly withdraw into the shadows of a huge oak where she remained as the procession drew nearer. Though he roweled his memory with cruel spurs of will, he could put no face or name to the woman, yet there was an elusive familiarity about her, something about the way she moved with a bold, almost boyish grace.

As the burial detail made ready to put away Private Johnson, Cole turned, intending to exchange a word with the strange woman. But the chaplain, seeing the direction of the captain’s eye and the comeliness of the figure it rested upon, tugged at his sleeve to hurry the proceedings along.

“Come now, Captain,” the man chided. “Duty first, you know. These men deserve our attention for this moment. Time enough for condolences later.”

As the chaplain drew Cole back, Alaina let out her breath slowly in relief. Her present costume was enough to disguise her from a distance, but she was not willing to yield Cole the benefit of close scrutiny.

The flag was removed and neatly folded. Cole replaced the flowers, and the pine coffin, with its meager remembrance of beauty, was slid into its niche. Cole excused himself, but by the time he pushed through the men, the slim, black-garbed woman was well down the path and was hurrying farther away. He hastened his long strides, compelled to follow by reasons unknown even to himself.

Alaina glanced anxiously over her shoulder,
and her heart thudded anew as she realized he was coming after her. She waited until she passed the gate of the cemetery, then she lifted her veil and let her feet fly. Indeed, she was so intent upon reaching the carriage before Cole caught up with her, that she failed to see the small, darkhaired man in her path until too late.

“
Mon Dieu
!” Jacques DuBonné cried angrily, stumbling back from the collision. “Watch where you go!”

Somewhat dazed, Alaina put a trembling hand to her brow to steady her reeling head. It was then that Jacques noticed the petite and curvacious figure in black and was struck by the enchanting beauty of her face. He repeated the expletive, this time in a tone of admiration, and his gaze warmed with interest as it moved boldly over her soft curves. It was rare to meet a beautiful woman who, by her diminutiveness, made him feel so large and manly.

“Mademoiselle!” He bowed, sweeping his low-crowned hat from his black head. “Permit me to introduce myself—”

It was as far as he got. Glancing frantically over her shoulder, Alaina saw Cole rapidly approaching. She had no time for Jacques DuBonné in any case. She brushed past him and fled around the corner. Reaching the carriage, she climbed in and breathlessly bade the black man, “Hurry, Jedediah! On your way! Captain Latimer is behind me!”

Jedediah slapped the reins against the horse’s back and shouted, “Giddap, mule! Yankee’s a-coming!”

They were careening onto another street when Cole came around the corner. His only glimpse of
the woman was the black bonnet, its veil fluttering out behind her like a taunting gonfalon.

Frowning, Cole turned back and found Jacques DuBonné gaping at him. It was a full moment before the Cajun regained his tongue.

“We meet again, eh, doctor?” He thrust out his chin toward the departing carriage. “You know
la petite
mademoiselle?”

Cole arched a brow. “Do you?”

The Frenchman laughed. “It seem we agree on one thing, eh, monsieur? She is quite a piece of sweetmeat, eh?”

“I presume you have been informed of Mrs. Hawthorne’s clear title to her property.” Cole deliberately ignored the man’s comments and withdrew a cigar from his blouse as he watched the reddening face of the man. “No one at the bank could explain how it happened. An oversight, they said.” He flicked his thumbnail against the head of a sulfur match, touched the small flame to the cheroot, and leisurely puffed the rolled tobacco leaf alight. “But upon further investigation, I learned a most interesting coincidence. Similar occurrences have happened through the bank, with the decision favoring one Jacques DuBonné, because no other proof has been available. Strange, isn’t it?” His eyes lifted to the small man. “If Mrs. Hawthorne had not taken the precaution of watching after that piece of paper, she would have found herself evicted from her home and you would have owned it for a pittance of what it was worth.” He shrugged casually. “Of course,
I don’t have proof, but I would say offhand that you have been most fortunate in finding a friend at the bank.”

A sneer came to Jacques’s lips. “Like you say, monsieur, you ‘ave no proof.”

As Cole slowly smiled, the man curtly touched the brim of his hat, glared, then abruptly turned and stalked away.

Cole cast a glance over his shoulder to the corner where the widow’s carriage had disappeared, then thoughtfully returned to the cemetery. For some reason, that slim form interested him greatly.

When all chance of pursuit was lost, Jedediah slowed the headlong pace, and Alaina collapsed back into the seat, closing her eyes as she tried to slow her pounding heart. The lesson had been bluntly slammed home, that whatever it was about her that had caught Cole’s eye, she had undoubtedly whetted his curiosity. In the future she would have to be far more careful where she went as a woman.

“Where to now, Miz Alaina?”

“To the hospital, Jedediah. If the captain is gone, perhaps I’ll be able to see Doctor Brooks a moment.”

But when they arrived, the burial wagons were just entering the stables, and from a distance Alaina could see Cole in the buggy with the chaplain. She knew he would soon be about in the hospital, and she could not risk being seen by him again.

As it was the old doctor’s custom to return to his home at noon for a midday meal, Alaina directed Jedediah to take her to the Brooks’s residence. There, a dour-faced black woman answered the door and showed Alaina into the doctor’s study to wait.

The noon hour had chimed before the doctor’s buggy entered the courtyard and its white-haired driver
alighted. He came into the house frowning thoughtfully. Doctor Brooks was greatly loyal to those soldiers who were in his ward, and he could not be too unhappy that those few who had excaped would avoid spending the remainder of the war in a Federal prison. But there were other matters to deal with.

Doctor Brooks paused as he saw the young woman who waited for him. Almost hesitantly he asked, “Alaina?”

In response, the girl untied the bow beneath her chin and slipped the bonnet from her head, shaking the dark, silky hair out with a toss of her head.

“Good heavens, child,” the doctor chortled. “You play the part of Al so well, it’s difficult to keep in mind that you are, after all, a very beautiful woman.”

Alaina tossed the hat into a chair and snatched off her gloves. She had had far too much time to think. “Your words are kind, Doctor Brooks,” she finally managed with grace. “But of late, I find I have the same trouble myself. This role of lad wears on me.”

“My child! My child!” He would have consoled her, but Alaina faced him wide eyed, anguish etched in every delicate feature.

“I am not a child!” Her lips trembled with her declaration. “I am a woman full grown!” She twisted her slender hands. “And I long for a man to treat me like one.”

Suddenly Doctor Brooks understood and watched her closely as she strode away in anger. “Captain Latimer, perhaps? I heard that he married Roberta this morning.”

Alaina’s gray eyes came quickly back to him.

The old doctor shrugged. “The captain mentioned it this morning.”

Alaina’s frown faded to be replaced by a sad introspection. She wandered listlessly to the window and stood gazing out. A long sigh that was oddly broken in the middle lifted her narrow shoulders. Futilely she folded her arms, and her voice was barely heard in the quiet room.

“What am I to do?” She did not pause for an answer. “I see Roberta and other women dressed in their finery and with long, glorious hair.” She considered her own work-reddened hands before she raked the slim fingers through the short-cropped hair. “And I must hack mine to a boy’s length and wear these widow’s weeds or lad’s rags and never let myself enjoy the very thing that I am.”

The doctor was still considering what his reply should be when the housekeeper entered the room, bearing a large tray weighted down by a pot of tea, a bowl of grits, another of greens, a platter of batter-fried chicken, and a smaller one of hot cornbread. The delicious aroma wafted up to tempt the young girl who had taken nothing to eat since the previous midday. Gratefully accepting a plate from the black woman, Alaina forgot her consternation for the moment. Her youthful spirit rebounded. She slipped into the chair graciously held by the doctor, and, as they ate, gave a brief recounting of events that had occurred after she left his office the previous evening, leaving off any mention of her intimate involvement with Cole.

“Uncle Angus blames me because I brought Captain Latimer into the house. I fear my welcome at the Craighughs’ has worn severely thin. I must seek other employment and residence. I have managed
to save some money, but I can hardly support myself on a scrub boy’s pay. I’ll need to pay for room and board wherever I go, and I came here to ask if you know of some employment I might take.”

The doctor rose from his chair and paced the study, greatly troubled. He rubbed his fingers through his thick, white thatch of hair, mussing it terribly in the process. Finally he spoke of what worried him. “Alaina, I have already had to defend Al this morning lest he be considered to have taken part in the escape. Should he disappear now, an investigation would ensue that may well uncover your true identity. That would be most difficult to explain.” He leaned his knuckles lightly on the table before her and caught her eyes with his own. “Nor can I recommend that you be anything other than extremely secretive about who you are. There is now a two-hundred-dollar reward being offered for one Alaina MacGaren.”

Alaina’s eyes widened, and she watched the older man closely.

“It seems,” he continued, “that the Confederate prisoners commandeered a steam packet. It had over a hundred thousand dollars in payroll money aboard. The half dozen Yankees set to guard it were killed, and those who fled from the hospital forced the captain to put them ashore upriver. The steamer arrived back late this morning, and plans are already afoot for a pursuit.”

“But why—”

Doctor Brooks raised a hand to halt her questions. “There was a dark-haired woman of small stature who waited with horses on the far shore. One
of the rebels was heard calling out to her, and the name he used was none other than—Alaina MacGaren.”

Alaina sat as one stunned, staring unseeing across the room. The doctor held his silence, letting the full import of the tale settle in her mind. When at last her gaze rose, he met it.

“Your masquerade cannot be dropped. If Alaina MacGaren is caught, she will be hanged, or at the least spend many years in a Yankee prison. There is no safer place to hide than at the Craighughs’, for that is where the boy, Al, is known to reside. Al must return to work, or he will be sought for questioning. If he is not found, things will go very hard for Angus and Leala.”