Nan Ryan (42 page)

“Kathleen, please, I’m tired and I really don’t have time to play games with you. I have no idea why you are here, but I want you to leave. It isn’t safe for you to be here, you were quite foolish to come.” Kathleen took a step closer to him and threw up his hands and said coldly, “Stay where you are. There is nothing left for us to say to each other. Nothing.”

“What do you mean? I risked my life to find you! My Lord, do you hate me so much, I …”

“I don’t hate you, Kathleen. I feel nothing for you, I have finally gotten over you, given up hope. I’m sure you thought I would never tire of having you make a fool of me, but I have. So, please, play your little games with someone else and leave me alone. I’ve work to do.”

“Hunter Alexander, I will not go until you tell me what you are talking about. Darling, I know I hurt you for years and I shall regret it forever, but I am in love with you now. I thought everything was wonderful between us. You loved me, I know you did, then you just left without a word, as though I didn’t exist. What happened? Please, please tell me.”

“Kathleen, how can you stand there and lie to me? You see, I was looking out the window when you escorted Dawson Blakely into the garden that day I left. I saw you in his arms. You never loved me, it was him from the start. I thought at first I could make you feel something for me. I spent all those years trying and I loved his son as though he were my own.”

Kathleen looked at Hunter, a cold sense of bewilderment spreading through her body, “Hunter, you mean you always knew Scotty was …”

Hunter smiled wryly, “How can you be so shocked? You must think I am the densest man you’ve ever met. I knew from the start, I knew before he was born, and I knew why you married me. You were pregnant with Blakely’s child and you had to have a husband. But you know what, Kathleen? I loved you so much then, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d had a dozen children by other men. I want you so much it just didn’t matter. But it does matter that you continue to lie to me now. I’m sick of it, fed up, worn out. I can’t take it anymore, I …”

“Hunter,” Kathleen was sobbing loudly, “Please, please listen to me. It’s true I married you because I needed a father for Scotty. I was in love with Dawson Blakely, I won’t deny it. But, darling, I swear on my dear parents’ grave that I fell in love with you, totally, completely. The day you saw me in the garden with Dawson, I was innocent. He embraced me and I pulled away as quickly as possible. If only you’d watched a little longer you would know I speak the truth. I told him I loved you and only you. Told him it was completely over with him and that he must leave me alone. That’s the truth, Hunter! You must believe me. I haven’t seen him since that day, I swear it. He’s left me alone because he knows I want only you. I do, darling, please, please believe me!”

Hunter stared at her, studying her face, looking at the sad blue eyes, listening to her pleading. He wanted to go to her, he still adored her, would always want her. “Kathleen, how can I know it’s true? All I know is you were kissing him, you were kissing the father of your child, the man you loved when you married me, the man who kept me out of your bedroom for five years.”

“You must listen. You must! What can I do to prove my love for you? I’ll get down on my knees, I’ll write it in blood. I’ve ridden through the enemy to see you, I’d risk it every day if I had to. Hunter, you can personally kill me with your own saber if you find I’m lying.”

“Oh, Kathleen,” his voice was shaky, “don’t you know I want to believe you, I just …”

“Darling, you have to believe me, it’s our lives we’re talking about. Hunter, I’m telling the truth. Dear God, please!”

The pain-filled brown eyes welled with tears and he said softly, “Kathleen, my darling, I do believe you.”

“Hunter,” she cried and started to him.

“Stop,” he shouted, “don’t come near me!”

Pulling back abruptly, she questioned, “But why, if you believe me?”

“Because,” he said in a commanding voice, “I’m … I’m too dirty to touch you. Stay right where you are, I’ll come right back.”

“Hunter,” she was laughing and crying at the same time, “I don’t care how filthy you are. It doesn’t matter to me, I love you.”

“It matters to me.” He picked up a sliver of soap and headed for the tent opening. He turned, pausing with his hand on the flap, “Promise me you won’t run away. I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” and he hurried from the tent while she stood watching him, relief and happiness flooding over her.

Hunter ran to the breastworks, climbed to the top, and shouted to the tall guard standing with his rifle raised, his grayish-green eyes alertly scanning the enemy lines for any sign of movement. “Henderson,” Hunter called, smiling broadly, “Henderson, I need you. You must leave your post for a few minutes.”

“Gladly, sir,” William Henderson turned to him, “is it something important? I could use some action, things have been too quiet all night.”

“Private Henderson, it’s of the utmost importance! I’m going to take a bath and I want you to guard me while I do it.” He threw back his head and laughed, a happy man.

Henderson laughed with him, “Sir, I can’t think of anything more important than that, let’s go,” and he lowered his rifle and followed the laughing, blond man down to the Mississippi river.

The young soldier stood on the muddy banks of the river, his rifle poised in his hand, his eyes keenly alert, looking for any sign of danger. Hunter stripped off his tattered uniform and splashed into the water. He lathered his body, face, and hair, and scrubbed himself until the thin frame was clean and his thick blond hair was shining. His thin, bronzed face was almost pink from the vigorous scrubbing. “You see,” he said from the water, “the reason this is so important is that my wife, who I’ve not seen for over two years, has bravely broken through the enemy lines to see me. Can you believe it, she came all the way from Natchez to find me.”

“Well, sir, if she’s anything like these fine fearless ladies of Vicksburg, it doesn’t surprise me. But I’ll say this, she must love you a lot to have risked her life to get to you.”

“You really think so, Henderson?”

“I know it. Now you better get out of there and go greet her properly.”

Hunter smiled and walked out of the water. “I was so excited, I forgot to bring anything to dry off on,” he looked at Henderson, sheepishly.

“Sir, if you’ll hold my rifle for a minute, I’ll take off my tunic and you can use that. I wouldn’t want you going back to her all wet.”

“No, I’ll use mine, I …”

Handing his gun to Hunter, William Henderson quickly stripped the tunic from his thin frame, “You’ll use this, you’re having a visit with a lady, I want you to look nice, and besides, a wet tunic will be mighty comfortable for me in this heat.”

“Thanks, Henderson,” Hunter took the offered tunic and dried himself. Once again dressed in his own tattered but dry tunic, he headed back up the river bank, as eager as a young boy on his first date. The young guard followed him, glad to see a man as nice as his colonel happy in the midst of utter chaos.

“Night, Colonel,” Henderson smiled and returned to his post.

“Thanks, Henderson,” Hunter called after him. “May God watch over you,” and he turned and hurried to Kathleen.

Hunter stepped just inside the tent opening and looked at his wife. Bowing grandly from the waist, he smiled and said, “Ma’am, may I welcome you to my hometown, Vicksburg, Mississippi.”

Kathleen, her tears now dried, smiled sweetly and curtsied, “Colonel I find your home a charming, beautiful place.”

Slowly, Hunter walked to her and whispered, “I’m clean now, so Kathleen, darling, please, please touch me just for a minute,” and he kissed the corner of her mouth. Kathleen looked up at the handsome, bronzed face and touched the wet hair, plastered to the dear head.

“My darling,” she said and put her hands to his tattered tunic. Hunter watched her, holding his breath, while she carefully unbuttoned the faded gray blouse. The tunic now open to his waist, she slipped her fingers inside and heard Hunter release his breath while she softly caressed the thick blond hair on his chest. The sensation of the soft, tiny fingers stroking his skin in tender circular motions made his pulse quicken and the heart under her hands speeded noticeably. The magic fingers continued their tender stroking and moved further down his chest, slowly exploring his taut, flat abdomen. Kathleen could see the reaction on her husband’s face and it heightened her own excitement and made her bolder. While one hand moved back up to rest over his rapidly beating heart, the other slowly traced the narrowing line of thick blond hair that went down his stomach and disappeared into his trousers. Her hand stopped at his buckle, but the fingers gripped the belt and slowly pulled him closer.

“Thank you, darling,” he whispered and covered her lips with his own. His shaky arms came around her and crushed her to his bare chest and she could feel the violent trembling of his slim body against hers. She responded to his warm kisses, her mouth moving hungrily on his. Her total surrender matched that of her husband and they embraced wildly until it was painful for them both. Hunter’s lips left hers and moved to her ear while he continued to hold her tightly, wanting more. He whispered, “Oh, Kathleen, I …”

“Make love to me, darling,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“But darling,” he murmured, his eyes closed, “Think where we are, there’s a siege going on, this is no dime Joseph Engram novel, it’s real, we can’t …”

“Hunter,” she whispered, “there will be no fighting until you make love to your wife!” and she pulled away and started unbuttoning her dress.

Hunter made love to his wife in the middle of the hot June night and the Confederate gray blanket on the small cot supporting their eager bodies felt as glorious to them as the silky satin sheets of their honeymoon suite at the St. Charles Hotel in New Orleans. For an hour, there was no war for Hunter and Kathleen Alexander. There was no hunger, fear, grief, disappointment, or care of any kind. There was only the two of them, man and wife, amorous lovers, lost in each other. There was total understanding, physical gratification, spiritual beauty, an end to their longing, a hunger sated, a kaleidoscope of emotions, passion, lust, friendship, love displayed in the strongest bond known to human beings on the earth.

Amid the roar of Confederate cannons still protecting the bluffs and the sporadic cannonading from the powerful Union army moving ever closer, while the whiz of the minie balls filled the hot, still air, while shot and shell continued to terrify the trapped soldiers and the townspeople of Vicksburg, Mississippi, Hunter Alexander made love again to his wife and they both forgot completely where they were, what was happening around them, and what might befall them on the morrow. An hour of total, absolute happiness existed inside the tiny tent and if the world had ended at that period in time, neither would have cared.

Hunter rose to his elbow at last, “Darling,” he bent to kiss her brow, “I wish you could stay with me forever, but you must go. I want you out of here, out of the city before dawn. You must leave under the cloak of darkness, for I could not live if anything should happen to you.”

“Yes, sir, Colonel,” she threw her arms around his neck.

“I mean it, Kathleen, you must hurry,” and together they rose and dressed.

Ready to depart, Kathleen turned to the small bag she had brought with her. She took out the yellow sash and held it out to him, proudly showing him the blue embroidered initials,
H.S.A
., she had labored so long to make. “Sweetheart, I wanted to bring you something. A memento you could keep to remind you of me.”

“Kathleen, it’s beautiful,” Hunter took it from her, smiling. “Darling, I shall wear it until I come home to you,” and he carefully tied the new yellow sash around his slim waist. He looked up and saw the tears shining in her eyes and pulled her to him, “Darling, darling, don’t cry. I will return to you. To my wife and our son. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise.”

She clung to him and fought back the tears, cold fear now descending upon her, not for herself but for the tall blond man she held. “I know you’ll come home, Hunter,” she bravely released him. Hunter took her hand and led her out of the tent.

“Private Bell,” he called to his orderly, “Accompany my wife to the outskirts of town, take four men with you.”

“Yes, sir, Colonel,” and the young soldier went to where Daniel waited with the horses, calling to four men lounging nearby. In a matter of minutes, he returned, Daniel following, leading their horses. Hunter shook the black man’s hand, “Daniel, I appreciate what you’ve done. I’m depending on you to take care of her.”

“Yes, suh, Doctor Hunter, I protect that chile with my life.”

“I know you will, Daniel,” Hunter smiled and turned to his wife.

“We’re ready to go, Colonel,” Private Bell and the others were mounted.

“Well done,” Hunter said to him and looked down at Kathleen. “Kiss our son for me, darling.” He squeezed her hand and lifted her onto her horse. He stood beside her and she leaned down to kiss him goodbye.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“May God take you safely home, my love,” he smiled and nodded to the orderly to leave. The horses trotted away and Hunter stood watching until they were out of sight. He smiled to himself, sighed, and returned to his tent.

Hunter’s men escorted Kathleen and Daniel to the southern edge of the besieged city and bade them farwell. Wishing them good luck and a safe journey home, the men left to return to their posts. Kathleen and Daniel rode on alone through the darkness and Kathleen, filled with the glow of love and happiness, felt no fear. Through the moss-covered trees they galloped and had traveled less than five miles when a shot pierced the night air and Daniel slumped forward and fell from his horse.

Thirty-one

Kathleen screamed in horror, jumped down from her horse, and ran to the fallen Daniel. Before she could reach him, a pair of strong hands jerked her back. She looked up into the meanest face she had ever seen. A gigantic Union soldier was holding her and he was grinning a sadistic smile as he looked down at Kathleen’s body wriggling against him. He licked his lips. A new, unspeakable fear gripped Kathleen and in that instant she knew her fate was to be worse than Daniel’s merciful, swift death. She would suffer first. A revulsion started deep in her stomach, mingling with the fright, and she fleetingly prayed to God to let her die.