Triumph (52 page)

“I don’t remember you allowing me to work with Julian.”

“You were with Brent.”

“And now, you say, I am with you.”

“My concern isn’t that you work with wounded men—North or South. My concern remains that you are reckless, and take far too many chances.”

She felt a sudden shiver race down her back. The fact that she could have burned to death in the Wilderness was still a sobering thought. He must have thought that she was cold; though the days were hot, the night still brought in a cooling wind.

His arm came around her, and he turned her toward him. She saw that his hazel eyes were gleaming, and that he was tense, muscles taut, teeth jarring. “You didn’t answer me. What if you had married your Rebel beau? Would you want children with him?”

“I didn’t marry Ray, so this conversation can go nowhere.”

“Would you want children with him?”

“I told you, I simply don’t want children,” she said, clenching her teeth, steadily meeting his gaze.

He looked at her as seconds ticked by, then abruptly he pushed away from her, rising. She was amazed at how cold she suddenly felt.

She hugged her knees to her chest, dismayed that she felt tempted to cry again, bereft, and as if she had lost more than the warmth of his body beside her own.

“Taylor ... I don’t expect you to understand, to tolerate—a distant arrangement as a marriage. I mean, the war causes
distances
. I mean—”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he told her, dressing.

She felt colder, but she had started this, and she felt compelled to press forward. “So you understand, you agree—”

“Get dressed.”

“Of course, quickly.”

She jumped out of bed. Before she could swing around, he caught her arm. “I don’t agree with anything. Your brother and Jesse will be here soon. That’s all.”

She wrenched her arm free from his grip, turning away, finding her clothing, and dragging her carpet bag back on the bed to repack the clothing which had fallen when he’d so rudely shoved the valise from the bed.

“It’s good to see you’re packed,” he told her, walking to the window.

She realized, moments later, that he had heard hoofbeats long before she became aware that riders were nearing the house. He left the room, walking out front. She heard him call out greetings and she bit her lip, standing very still. Ian was out there.

She allowed herself to forget the Confederacy, dropping the blouse she had been folding, and she ran through the house and out the front door. “Ian!” she cried, seeing her brother dismounting from his horse. She raced to him, throwing her arms around him.

“Tia!”

He picked her up, enclosing his arms around her. She drew away, looking him over carefully, her eyes roaming up and down his length. “You’ve been well? You’re not hurt?”

“Not a scratch,” he told her, stepping back. She saw the second horseman who had ridden in with him. A tall cavalryman with brown hair and warm hazel eyes, dashing and good-looking. “Tia, this is Jesse Halston. Sydney’s—”

“Husband. Yes, I know,” Tia said, extending a hand. “It’s good to meet you, Jesse.”

He took her hand. His smile deepened. He had dimples, and he was charming. She knew why Sydney had fallen for this enemy.

“Tia. I’ve heard so much about you. How do you do?”

“I’m not at all sure. You’ll have to ask Taylor,” she said flippantly.

“She’s not pleased to be joining our ranks, I’m afraid,” Taylor said.

“Perhaps you’ll feel a little differently, Tia, when I tell you that we don’t have to go anywhere.”

“What?” Taylor said sharply.

“We reported back to Magee already and found out that we’re extending the Union line. This house is as good as any for an officers’ barracks,” Jesse said.

“This is Mary’s house,” Tia said protectively.

“The Union is moving into town. With any luck, we won’t be outranked. Mary’s house will fare much better with us using it than others,” Ian told his sister. “Tia, is there any food left at all? Did our erstwhile cousin pack it all? Probably, if I know Brent, he didn’t allow for much waste. We just shared most of our rations with some other fellows, and it would definitely be nice to have something hot and home-cooked.”

“I don’t know what’s left in here,” Tia said, smiling at Taylor with false sweetness. “I was on my way out when Taylor arrived.”

“How fortunate he arrived in time!” Ian exclaimed.

“Well, we’ll go see what’s in the kitchen,” Jesse said cheerfully. He smiled again. A very warm, kind, gentle smile.
Sydney must be very happy and love him very much
, Tia thought. She was glad. She loved her cousin, who was almost exactly her own age. They had been best friends throughout their lives.

“How is Sydney?” she asked Jesse.

“Fine!”

She was surprised that Taylor was the one to give her the curt answer. “Looks like there is a stable out back,” he continued, talking to Jesse. “We can unhitch that mare of Tia’s as well. By the way, did that Reb captain I fished out of the woods keep his word and watch out for my horse?”

“Magee has been keeping Friar, so your man was honorable. He’s treated him like his own child,” Jesse told Taylor. “I’ll take the horses around back.”

Taylor was hesitating. Hands on his hips, he stared at the road. “I should report to Magee tonight.”

“He’ll expect you in the morning,” Ian said. “He knew you were working directly for Grant before the Wilderness, and he’s anxious to see you now, glad to have you back—though he doesn’t know how long he’ll get to keep you. I imagine that he’ll move our companies into the field by tomorrow, and stage our reconnaissance from here.”

“Well, good. Tia is unhappy enough in Federal company. I wouldn’t want her to have to be uncomfortable as well,” Taylor said pleasantly. “Shall we all go make this our new home?” He smiled at Tia.

A smile that gave her shivers all over again.

Hours later, they had finished an extremely palatable meal, under the circumstances. Jesse had found a ham left in the smokehouse, and there had been a few cans of fruit left in the larder. There had been some corn bread left over from the day before, and Tia had found a few dandelion greens to pull from the small vegetable garden. She was a rich man’s daughter, but as capable in a kitchen as she was in a hospital, Taylor thought, and he realized that Jarrett McKenzie had raised his children to live in the world, not believe that they ruled it.

Tia might not have been happy in Federal company, but she loved her brother and she had no difficulty liking Jesse Halston. She was interested in Jesse, naturally—he had married her cousin. She didn’t hide her curiosity, or her assessment, and Jesse seemed to like her in return. Ian had received letters from home in the last few weeks, which Tia had not, and she was anxious to hear about her family. Seeing the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her family to Ian made Taylor feel like the odd man out.

Leaving them to their conversation, Taylor came out to the porch with a good cigar he had found in Mary’s father’s desk. It had aged well, he mused, leaning against one of the posts to smoke it. He blew smoke rings, watching them on the air.
So she wanted a divorce!

Like hell.

But what was he to do? This was a war. He couldn’t have her arrested, even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t give away her secret. But what recourse did that leave him? He couldn’t be with her constantly; he couldn’t force her to stay. When he’d left her the last time, she had even promised to be there when he returned. Now, she wasn’t making any promises; she was telling him that she didn’t want children and that she wanted a divorce.

The door opened. He saw that Ian was joining him. “Have you ever seen anything as quiet as this night?” Ian asked.

“It will change tomorrow.”

“It will. Every house will be taken over. Troops will be camped all over those grasslands. And it will be for a long time, I think.”

Taylor looked at him. “We’re in for a siege. Petersburg is under attack, and don’t think that Grant is going to leave until the city surrenders—no matter what the cost.”

“What else have I missed?” Taylor asked. “I heard about the boys from the Virginia Military Institute going to war at New Market. What else?”

“Sherman is marching hard on Georgia—destroying everything in sight, I might add we probably had a chance to capture Petersburg without a siege, but old Beauregard pushed Meade back too hard.”

“Anything from home?”

“Skirmishes, a few naval bombardments. A couple of babies come the fall. Alaina is expecting, and so is Risa.”

“So Jerome managed to make it home last Christmas!” Taylor said, grinning, as he leaned back and savored his cigar. But his smile didn’t seem to touch his soul. It was a sore subject. He did want children. He hadn’t thought about it much since Abby had died. Not even when he’d found himself marrying again in a strange fury.

“So this will be three for you,” he murmured casually.

“Jerome’s second. Prophesied by my brother’s wife.”

“Who sees too much, and not enough,” Taylor murmured.

“She sees the end of this, but she says it doesn’t matter. The Rebs will never believe her until they’re beaten into the ground. My brother pays her no heed.”

“Maybe he pays more attention than we know. What can he do—quit the army, walk away? He’s ą doctor. It doesn’t work that way, and we both know it.”

“But people do change,” Ian said suddenly, looking at him. “Like Sydney.”

“She claims she hasn’t changed.”

“But that isn’t the truth, is it?”

Taylor shrugged, stubbing out the cigar. “No. She met a really remarkable black woman who opened her eyes to slavery—although Sydney still won’t accept it as the major cause of the war.”

“Lincoln has fought to preserve the Union, not to free the slaves,” Ian reminded him. “As good a man as he may be, he’s a politician. He used his Emancipation Proclamation just as much as any politician might.”

“He does believe that slavery is an abomination.”

“He does, but ...”

“But what?”

Taylor stared at Ian. “Your father has always, openly and honestly, been against slavery. I can understand the hatred of this uniform where James is concerned, and how Jerome and Brent might have naturally been ready to fight the Union. God knows, there were times when I was young that even I thought all white men were murdering demons—because of this uniform. Why can’t your sister realize that the South’s fight is wrong, that it would be all but sacrilege to destroy the Union, and slavery is one of the crudest and most unjust institutions ever twisted into being by man.”

“She sees it. She’s just fought too long and hard now to admit she’s wrong.”

“Well, then it’s onward to battle I go, Ian. It’s been one hell of a long day. Good night.”

“Good night, Taylor. Go easy on the South, eh? We really are winning the war.”

The house was quiet. Jesse had evidently picked a bed and gone to it. Tia had cleaned the dining room and kitchen, and she had disappeared as well. Taylor walked up the steps wearily. It was past midnight now. God knew what morning would bring.

He entered Tia’s bedroom, feeling as if liquid fire coursed through his veins. What if she wasn’t there, what if she’d locked the door, what if ...

He closed the door behind him. The room was cloaked in shadow, but he could see her form on the bed.

He walked slowly over to her. She was on one side of the bed, curled away from him. A sliver of moonlight fell across her back. She only feigned sleep. The pulse at her throat gave her away.

He silently stripped his boots and clothing, crawled onto the bed, and reached for her.

She turned toward him, dark eyes wide, catching a spark of the moonlight. “Taylor, I—”

“I don’t give a damn what you want,” he told her, taking her into his arms.

She didn’t protest. And in a matter of minutes, she was everything he knew, and everything he wanted. She teased and seduced and sated his senses, and in the end, she lay curled in his arms as sweetly as a kitten, seduced and sated and exhausted as well. He held her, suddenly grateful for the night just to sleep beside her, trying not to tremble in a manner that would give away the extent of his pleasure just to be with her. To feel the way she breathed, slept, moved in the night ...

Later, he awoke, and he wondered why for a moment. He had always awakened to the slightest noise, but ....

There was nothing. The night was quiet, the breeze was slight. And then he knew.

She still lay beside him, entangled in his limbs.

But softly, almost silently ... so that he would not hear her ...

She was crying.

W
HEN TIA AWOKE THE
following morning, Taylor was gone.

Rising and dressing, she found that he had left the house altogether, as had Jesse.

What had been a. ghost town, however, was suddenly filled with people again. Soldiers, servants, wives, laundresses—the inevitable camp followers. The field across from Mary’s house was filled with tents; the sound of troop commanders could be heard, along with bugles, harnesses, hoofbeats, and shouts.

The Union had come in full force.

Ian was still at the house, receiving despatches. He’d be leaving soon as well, but he had wanted Tia to know that there was a Private Shelby on the porch, that the house had been designated as their quarters by the proper authorities, and that General Magee had chosen the large Colonial across the street for his own headquarters. The kitchen was being stocked, Molly was the maid and cook who would be looking after them, and Horace was the handyman who would watch the chickens, stock the smokehouse, and do any general handy work they might need around the place.

They had settled in for a long siege at Petersburg.

“Where is Taylor?” Tia asked her brother after she had come down for breakfast.

“Riding,” Ian said briefly.

She was about to ask where, but she knew her brother wouldn’t tell her. She remained a Rebel, and God alone knew just what she might be capable of doing.

Taylor did not return that night, or the next day, or the next. At first, Tia remained in the vicinity of the house. When she left, she found that Private Shelby followed her. She felt like telling her brother, who returned to the house at odd hours, that if she chose to escape from Shelby, she could do so easily. However, she managed not to make such a confession.