Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 (51 page)

And then the woman brought in the dress, a mist of blue taffeta trimmed in delicate lace.

“You sho’ got nice breasts,” Maybelle said bluntly, helping her with the dress. “You don’t need no stays. Lots of women would give anything for breasts like yours. You sho’ better make sho’ when you have the Major’s babies that you got somebody to suck them young’uns, or you won’t keep yo’ shape. You can be sho’ of that.”

Nathan’s babies. A warmth spread to her cheeks; but it was not a feeling brought on by desire. Actually, it dawned on her that she was embarrassed to think of having Nathan’s babies. And why she felt this, way, she did not know. It was only natural when you loved a man to want to have his children. Or so she had been taught.

When she was dressed, Maybelle grinned broadly. “The Major gonna have a fit when he sees you, Miss Katherine. You is one pretty woman. I dress a lots of women, but you is the purtiest I ever dressed. And the Major, he’s so handsome. You two gonna make the finest couple in all of Richmond tonight. I gonna sneak in from the kitchen and take a peek when the dancin’ starts, just so’s I can see the two of you together. I gonna ask the Major, too, if I can come back and be your own special maid.”

Kitty did feel embarrassed then with so much fussing over her. She thanked Maybelle, then asked her to leave, saying she wanted a few moments alone before going downstairs.

She stared at her face in the mirror. There was no color in her cheeks. Nathan was right. She was tired. She pinched the flesh, watching the soft redness appear.

Then, slowly, her gaze moved down to her breasts, very exposed in the low bodice. An average-sized dress would not hold her large bosom, she realized proudly.

And then the memories came flooding back like the flash floods in the North Carolina mountains when the snows melt. It was vivid now, somewhere in the hills of Tennessee, moonlight spilling down on two naked bodies lying on a bed of grass and moss. Travis had stared at her breasts hungrily, murmuring, “Christ, woman, I’ve never seen such beauty! You drive a man wild, do you realize that?”

She had been unable to speak, her chest rising and falling nervously as she breathed heavily in anticipation of the ecstasy that was sure to come.

He had traced a line about her breasts with his fingertip—first one, then the other, squeezing the nipples between thumb and forefinger until they were taut and firm. And then he had bent down, tongue slipping from his lips to touch each rosy tip in turn. Kitty had moaned as a convulsion of desire spread through her body in a giant wave. Why didn’t he go on and take her? She could feel the pulsating throb of his manhood against her naked thighs knew he wanted to enter her and know the sweetness of release. But he seemed to enjoy touching her this way, teasing her into a quivering mass of sobbing flesh, begging to be taken again and again.

Lips parting, he sucked one breast inside his mouth, as much as he could hold. Kitty’s toes had arched downward with spasms of joy moving through her legs. His tongue moved around and around teasingly, the warm moisture causing her back to arch, strain to get even closer, give him more of her to devour and consume. His hand moved downward, touching where the flames were already burning…the fire spreading upward seeking to consume her whole body.

“Take me…please…” she had begged shamelessly. “Travis, take me. Oh, why do you torture me so?” Her nails dug into the flesh of his back and shoulders, pressing him closer as she sobbed his name over and over again.

He had moved ever so slightly as his lips moved to her other breast, deliberately letting his swollen organ tease the flesh of her inner thighs, thrusting gently, probing, letting her know that soon, very soon, she would have all of him. But not yet. Oh, no, not yet. He would make her dizzy, make her beg and whimper and plead. He was not like other men, believing a woman was only to give herself to a man and never take from him. Once they had talked at length about it, and he told her that he felt a woman should enjoy sexual pleasure as much as a man did, and she surprised herself when she finally agreed. Sex was not the unpleasant chore her mother had said it would be once she was married. Certainly it was forbidden before, but Kitty was not so certain about that anymore, either.

That had been the night Travis laughed and rolled over on his back, holding out his arms to her as he said, “Tonight, princess, you shall make love to me and give me pleasure.”

She had stared at that teasing smile in the moonlight “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, bewildered.

And he had showed her, grabbing one leg to pull it over his stomach until she was straddling his body. Then he guided her down onto him, hands clasping her buttocks firmly as he began to rock gently up and down, to and fro, rhythmically, Falling forward onto his powerful chest, Kitty felt his arms go about her back, holding her even tighter against him.

And like the crashing explosion of the artillerist-fired canister gun, they came together, and the roaring in Kitty’s ears and the pounding of her heart were like the great thundering guns of war.

She had cried out loud in her passion, and he had gently cradled her head against his shoulders to muffle the sound in the still night. And they had lain together for a long, long time, neither of them speaking.

Kitty shook herself. She was warm all over, a gnawing hunger creeping up into her loins. Goodness, what was wrong? Was she sick? She had found once again the man she truly belonged to—Nathan—and they were going to be married. So why was she wasting her time thinking about a man who never had the right to touch her in the first place? Why was she remembering the way he made her enjoy it?

Tears were stinging her eyes, and she dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief. Maybe she was even thinking about a dead man. But was Travis dead? And if he was alive, what difference did it make? They would never meet again. That part of her life was over forever. It should never have happened. When she married Nathan, they would know the same joy and ecstasy that she had shared with Travis.

And besides, she reminded herself, the times with Travis had only happened because they were in the midst of war with death hovering all about, They had to take what pleasures they could where they found them. There was no need to feel shame and guilt—unless she dwelled upon the pleasurable memories as she was doing right then while Nathan waited for her downstairs.

Opening the door, Kitty could hear the violin, a banjo, and drums.

Someone was playing a piano. The sound of the music had a persuasive urgency, and the beat was pulse-stirring. Over it, there was the murmur of a crowd, and she realized the party had already begun. How long had she been woolgathering over Travis? How was she going to explain her dawdling to Nathan?

Walking to the landing above the big staircase, she felt suddenly conscious that something was awaiting her that she had no power to control. Something was pulling, beckoning, She walked to the stairhead, placed a hand on the balustrade, and with her other hand held her skirt up so she would not trip.

And then she was aware that the music had stopped as she descended, and people were standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at
her
. She noted envious stares from the women, admiration from the men.

She heard Nathan’s voice ring out above the silence, the words a bit slurred as she realized he had obviously been drinking; but he sounded proud, almost defiant. “My future wife! Isn’t she beautiful? I am so proud to present to you the most beautiful woman in all of Richmond, the flower of North Carolina—Miss Katherine Wright.”

And there was an answering ripple of applause, the murmur of agreement from a few men brave enough to do so in front of their wives and sweethearts.

Nathan moved to the foot of the stairs and waited for her with his hand held out. The violin came alive in a lovely, sweeping arpeggio and then steadied itself into a moving minuet. Nathan led her forward, his thick voice whispering over and over again, “Katherine, Katherine, my own sweet, lovely bride-to-be…lovely, wonderful…”

Kitty was conscious of the outrageously deep cut of her dress, the beauty of her naked shoulders, and the swell of her bosom. Proud, at the moment, she was very proud.

The minuet ended. Then music began again and men were stepping up to dance with her, but Nathan refused to allow them the privilege. “Mine…” He sounded drunk, Kitty realized with a start. “All mine and I refuse to share her with any of you.”

A few of the men arched their eyebrows; others glared angrily.

Nathan was not being a gentleman. People were beginning to stand along the walls and whisper among themselves, staring reproachfully in the couple’s direction.

“Nathan, what is the matter with you?” Kitty hissed at him in disgust. “You…you’re intoxicated.”

“Intoxicated with the beauty of
you
.”
He laughed as he stumbled against her.

“Nathan, you’re making a fool of yourself—and me.”

“It’s hot in here.” He grabbed her hand suddenly and led her toward one of the open doors leading to the veranda of the hotel. The murmur of those staring grew louder as they moved across the floor, beneath the crystal chandeliers, past the raised stand where the musicians played, beyond the potted plants, and out into the Virginia summer night.

Nathan leaned against the marble railing, swaying momentarily, then he whipped around to look at her with bleary eyes. “Katherine, you don’t know how much I love you,” he moaned. “I thought I’d memorized everything about you—the way your hair dances with fire when the light shines on it and your eyes, so blue they’re almost purple, and how they flash with red sparkles when you’re angry. And your eyelashes…”

He reached out to touch her, but she jerked her head back. “Your eyelashes look as though they’re dusted with pure flakes of gold. When you walked down those steps tonight, it was like I’d never really seen you before, never known you were so beautiful. God, you were glowing. You looked the way I hope you look when I finally get to make love to you the way I want to…”

Perhaps the words would have meant everything had his speech not been slurred, his breath thick with the odor of drink. He reached out, grabbed her, hands mashing against her breasts as he swung her around to pin her against the railing. “I can’t wait to have you lying beside me, naked, my hands all over you…like this…”

“Nathan!” She tried to push him away, but he was holding too tightly. “Nathan! Stop it this instant! Have you gone mad? What is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you so…”

“I’m sorry.” He was instantly contrite, his hold slackening to a point where she could wriggle away.

“I just love you—want us to get married quick as we can…”

“So we can have sex?” she snapped. He stared at her in the dim glow from the lights inside the hotel ballroom. “That’s all you talk about, it seems, making love to me. Is that why you want to marry me?”

“What’s wrong with that?” He swayed, hiccupping.

“There’s more to marriage than just making love.”

“Well, maybe.” He lurched against the railing and hiccupped again. “But maybe once I have you, know you’re legally mine, I won’t see you doing it with another man every time I close my eyes. It’ll be
me
doing it to you and I’m going to do it to you so goddamned good,
you
won’t think about those other men anymore, either.”

She turned to walk away, but his hand snaked out to grab her once again, this time slamming her to the railing so hard she almost fell, a sharp pain moving up her back. “How dare you!” Her hand came up, ready to crack across his face, but he caught her wrist, twisting it painfully to her side.

“You listen to me,” he snarled, a complete stranger now an angry, hurting stranger. “I can’t stand it, knowing what happened to you. I never wanted you in this war to start with, remember? If you’d stayed home, like I asked you to, left Doc and his hospital alone, none of this would have happened! But no, you had to play the stubborn, independent woman and look where it’s got you. Look what it’s done to me, or don’t I matter anymore? Tell me, Katherine my sweet, which one was the best? Tate or Coltrane? Or have there been so damned many you can’t remember which you liked the best?”

Her hand ached to slap him, but he now held both wrists tightly. “You think a woman is only fit for one thing—a man to take her when he wants to so she can have a baby every year and get fat and ugly and sit at home like a crow and sew and tat and think empty-headed thoughts. You think it’s wrong for a woman to want to be herself, have hopes and dreams of her own, have a life for herself! Well, I tell you what you do, Major Collins, you go back to Wayne County and find Nancy Warren. Maybe she’s pure and goody-goody, maybe she fits your image of the ideal wife and mother. And you just leave me alone. Leave me to live my own life the way I want to. I’ve had my fill of men, including you.”

Her nostrils flared, her eyes danced like coals of fire—every fiber of her body wanting to strike out and hurt, hating, despising. This was not the man she had known and loved. This man was a selfish, jealous stranger, a man she no longer knew or wanted to know.

For an instant his eyes, too, flashed fire, but then he laughed. “Nancy Warren? I rolled her in the hay before we were ten years old. I had all of that I wanted, and then some, because she loved me, still does. She’d do anything for me, which is goddamned more than I can say for
you
.”

He released her and she slapped him—once, twice—and he stood there, lurching, hiccupping, grinning. And finally, pressing her fist against her lips to stifle a sob, she ran from the veranda, through the crowded room of faces staring curiously; she ran up the steps and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

She flung herself across the bed and then the tears came—tears for Nathan and what was but never could be, and for Travis and the realization of what
might
have been but never
should
have been. And yes, she cried for herself, also, and whatever the frightening future might bring her way.

War had done this to all their lives. Nathan was not the same; she had sensed it that first day but refused to acknowledge it. Her father’s life had been destroyed—and her mother’s and Andy Shaw’s and David Stoner’s, and, yes, Travis’s as well. As for herself, did she even have a life left? She could return to the hospital, care for the wounded, give what she could to those who needed her. And then what? Did she even have a future? And what if the North won the war, what would happen to all of them then?