Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 (55 page)

“God speed,” Kitty had said tonelessly.

And he had grabbed her, crushing her in his arms, bruising her lips with his kisses. At first, Kitty did not respond, but then, slowly, felt herself weakening, yielding to him. And afterward, when he released her and stood looking clown at her with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, she hated her body for once again betraying her.

“Everything is going to work out for us, Katherine,” he had told her with confidence. “Just you wait and see. This war is going to be over and we’re going to be married—and we’ll forget all the unpleasantness of the past.”

Quickening her step, Kitty remembered his prophecy that “things will be like they were before the war”.

Shuddering, she knew that nothing would ever be the same for any of them again. It was hard to look back and remember the beginning when everyone seemed to want the war. In the spring of 1861, no one thought about the horrors of war. It all looked like a great adventure after the excitement of Fort Sumter, and the waving flags and loud brass bands, along with the chest-thumping orators, all combined to cast an aura of romance over everything and everyone. Thousands and thousands of young men had hurried to enlist, she remembered, feeling lucky to have the chance to fight. There was even news in the papers that neither government—the North or the South—was able to use all those men who crowded the recruiting stations in those first glittering weeks of the war. There were those who were rejected and returned home brokenhearted. And there were those who went off to camp afraid that the war would be over before they, themselves, joined the action.

And that was all over two years ago, Kitty thought grimly. And they had all had a taste of the war—or would, before it was over, it seemed.

Go back to the way it was? Nathan was a fool. No one can ever go back, especially after so much killing and bloodshed and hatred and agony. They would be hard-pressed to go on living when the war finally ended, whichever side was the victor. No one could turn and go back; rather one could stumble forward and try to meet the future as best he could.

Drunken laughter from the shadows made her wish she were not alone. But, if Lena was sick, there would be no one else to help. The men in her life would not—they only wanted to use her.

Pausing to take a deep breath, Kitty pushed the slatted, swinging saloon doors open and stepped into the smoke-filled room. There was instant silence as all eyes fell on her curiously.

A scowling yellow-haired woman with orange-painted cheeks stepped forward, blocking her path. “He ain’t here!” the woman said sharply.

Kitty snapped in reply, “I’m not looking for a man.”

“Ain’t one lookin’ for you, either, so get the hell out of here.”

There was a round of laughter and Kitty felt her cheeks burning.

“Hey, I know you.” She whipped her head about to see a man standing at the bar. “You work at the hospital. Your mother works upstairs.”

There was a fresh round of laughter.

She crossed the room boldly to where he stood. He was tall, gangly, his clothes thin and patched like every other man’s these days. His beard was thick and his eyes were hard and cold, but something in his voice told Kitty he might be willing to help her—and she was desperate.

“I hear my mother hasn’t been seen for a few days.” She spoke quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear. Gradually the din was picking up again as the talking, the clink of glasses, and the piano playing resumed. “Would you help me find her room? If she’s sick, I need to go to her.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.” He turned up his glass, and gulped down its amber contents, then slammed it down on the counter. The bartender quickly stepped forward to pour more liquid from a bottle. As he took another sip, Kitty waited, trying not to be impatient. Finally, he spoke again. “Yeah, Lena’s sick. Bad off. Leastways, I heard she was. I ain’t seen her. Don’t go for old women, myself, no matter how long it’s been since I took my pleasure. I like my women young…”

He winked at her. “Now then. I reckon I can take you upstairs to your momma’s room, if,” he added meaningfully, “me and you can get together later on.”

“You can go to hell!” Kitty whirled away from the bar and moved toward the stairway. She would find the room herself if it meant beating on every door up there.

The yellow-haired woman stepped forward. “Hey, you can’t go up there. It’s private up there. I got girls workin’…”

Turning to give the woman a glare to let her know she was not about to be stopped, Kitty froze where she stood. It couldn’t be! Not those evil, staring eyes from the shadows to one side of the room. The face was thickly bearded. But still, there was something familiar about the eyes that had turned quickly away. Icicles of fear began to freeze along her spine and she had to force her legs to move, to take her on up the steps.

Evil, foreboding, whoever that man was, he hated her—but why? He reminded her of Luke Tate, but he was probably killed a long time ago, she hoped—and if he lived, he would surely have more sense than to return to Wayne County.

Shaking herself, Kitty turned to the moment at hand. Lena had to be found. Whether she wanted help or not, she was going to get it.

The hall was dark and smelled musty. Tiny gas lanterns illuminated the worn, slick carpet with its patches of dried vomit. Kitty had worked around the smell too long not to recognize it. The walls were badly stained. It was a wretched place, she thought with revulsion.

Kitty knocked on the first door on the left. A man’s voice boomed out nastily, “I’m not through yet, and my time ain’t up anyway, so quit poundin’ on the goddamned door!”

She hurried to the other side of the hall. “Yeah, come on in,” a man called out happily. “I can take on two at the same time.” A woman giggled.

Disgusted and with a heavy heart, Kitty moved to another door. How could her mother live this way? How could she have done it? She knocked loudly and a few seconds later the door was yanked open. A naked woman stood there scowling. “Well, what the hell do you want?” she demanded. “I’m busy. See Big Bertha downstairs if you want a job.”

“I’m looking for Lena.” Kitty was barely able to whisper as her eyes fell on the naked man stretched out in the rumpled bed. Her gaze quickly moved back to the angry woman’s face. “Please can you tell me which of these rooms is hers?”

“Try the last door on the right!” The door slammed shut in her face.

She moved on down the hallway, hesitating outside the closed door before knocking gently. There was no sound from inside. She knocked harder, then leaned forward and called out softly, “Momma…it’s me…Katherine.”

There was only silence from inside. Grasping the knob, Kitty was relieved to see it turn. The door squeaked open to display a black hole of darkness. “Momma…are you in here?”

Kitty jumped, startled, as a feeble moan came out of the blackness. “Momma, is that you?” Her heart pounded fearfully. What if the sound was coming from a drunk man who might leap on her at any moment? This was a terrible place. Anything could happen. Why, oh, why had her mother degraded herself so?

“Here…” The voice was barely audible, but it was Lena’s.

“Wait…” Kitty hurried back into the musty hallway, stood on tiptoe to take down a lantern from a nail hanging on the wall, then approached the bed. In the flickering light, she saw her mother’s pale, stricken face, her eyes sunk deep into her head; and when she reached out to touch her forehead, it was hot with fever. “Momma, how long have you been like this? Why didn’t you send for me?”

“Didn’t…want you…to see me…like this,” Lena gasped, obviously in pain. “Knew…it was…gettin’ bad. Didn’t know…what to do…for my kind of sickness.”

Kitty realized right away what her mother was talking about. She obviously had the dreaded disease that some people got from having sex and not being choosy about who they had it with. That, and becoming pregnant, had been fears she herself had lived with. She’d seen many soldiers with it, too, some of them in agony, their bodies broken out in open, pus-filled, draining sores.

“I’m going to go back to the hospital and get some rosin pills, sassafras…” Kitty babbled in fright, pushing back the damp hair from Lena’s forehead. “We have some pieces of blue vitrol, too. I’ll come back and sponge down that fever, and we’ll move you to the hospital in the morning.” She was speaking more to herself than to her mother right then, her mind frantic, knowing how sick she was.

She had been sitting on the side of the bed and moved to get up, but Lena’s hand crept across the sheet to touch hers, to clasp it weakly. “Want you to know…I always loved you. The war…the war did this…to all of us…your pa…”

“Momma, the last I heard, Poppa was alive,” Kitty said through her tears. “Now don’t you fret. I won’t be gone long. I’m going to get some things I need and in the morning I’ll have someone help me take you to the hospital. I live in a small room there, but there’s room for another cot. You can stay with me, Momma, and together we’ll find a way to make it. The house may be gone, and the barn, but it’s
our
land. We’ll make it—I know we will.” She was babbling, frightened. Lena looked terribly sick, It was plain now why one one had helped her or wanted to go near her, even if they had cared just a little. Everyone was afraid of what Lena had.

“No hope…”

“Yes, there
is
hope, Momma. There’s always hope. We have to believe in that. Now I have to leave you for a little while to get some medicine for you. We have to get that fever down.”

Lena was crying. “I only wanted…the best for you.”

“Momma, I know, I know,” she said, patting Lena’s hand. Kitty stood up. “Now I have to leave. I won’t be gone long.”

“Forgive me…” she said, breaking into great, racking sobs.

“Now you stop that!” Kitty said fiercely, sitting down again and leaning over to place her hands on Lena’s shoulders and giving her a gentle little shake. “Poppa was alive the last I heard, fighting with the Yankee cavalry up in Tennessee. They say he’s the strongest, bravest, fiercest soldier in the whole Union army. He’s going to come out of this alive—I know he is. And if he doesn’t want to come home, if they won’t let him, then we’ll sell the farm and go to him. We’ll start a new life somewhere else. Now stop that crying, you hear? You need your strength. You have to get well—get out of this place.”

The sobs quieted. Kitty stood up and waited. Her mother was now very still, her eyes closed. She was either asleep or had fainted—for the moment, the suffering was gone. Hurrying from the room, Kitty made her way downstairs once more, pushed through the crowded room, and stepped out into the street.

She ran most of the way back to the hospital, and when she bounded up the steps, lifting her skirt so as not to trip, Lonnie stepped quickly out of the shadows to stare at her in alarm. “What happened? Is someone chasing you?”

Brushing by him, she mumbled only that her mother was ill, then hurried into the hospital to get the items she needed from the supply closets. When she returned, carrying a doctor’s borrowed satchel, Lonnie blocked her path.

“I’m going with you.”

“No, I don’t want you to go with me, Lonnie. Not now.” She didn’t want anyone to see the filth her mother lived in, the degradation surrounding her.

She pushed by him, then paused apologetically. “Lonnie, I appreciate your concern, honestly I do. But this is something I have to do myself.”

“But a woman has no business out there on the streets alone, this time of night.”

“Please. I can take care of myself.”

She hurried on down the steps, impatient to get to her mother. How sick was she? It was hard to tell. All the doctors were busy. A trainload of wounded had just arrived and everyone at the hospital was bustling about treating the new patients. She needed to be with them but for the moment, Lena had to come first. She couldn’t even ask one of the doctors to leave and come with her. Not now. It would be much better if she could bring the fever down herself and then have one of the men at the saloon help move Lena to the hospital. Perhaps Joe, the bartender, would help. He didn’t seem too bad a sort.

So many thoughts were whirling about in her head. Could the terrible disease be cured? She doubted it. Some were, some were not. Lena’s case seemed pretty advanced. The house and barn were gone. There was no home to go to. The hospital was the only refuge for the moment. Would the South win the war? And if it lost, what then? What would happen to all of them? And Nathan, was it really and truly over between them? Could they ever love again? Or were they merely suffering agonies of love caused by the grimness of war? And Travis, if he lived, if she ever saw him again, what would she feel? What would he feel? Oh, God, there was so much confusion and turmoil both around her and within her.

She was approaching the vacant lot, overgrown with shrubs and weeds and thick undergrowth. Shivering, she almost crossed the street but instead chided herself for being so foolish and continued on her way. It was but a short distance to the main street and she was almost running in her haste to get out of the darkness and into the light.

It happened so quickly that there was no warning of danger. Suddenly a figure loomed up out of the shadows, blocking her path.

At the split second that the scream bubbled its way up and into her throat, ready to emerge and split the stillness of the night, a hand clamped tightly her face, stifling any sound. The satchel tumbled to the ground as an arm went about her chest, pinning her hands to her sides.

And then he was there, sour breath falling hotly on her face, eyes blazing ominously in the darkness. “We meet again, you little tiger, and I’ve got quite a score to settle with you.”

Above, in the inky sky, a cloud moved slightly, parted, and a thin shaft of moonlight filtered down through the night.

And in that moonlight, she recognized the hated, leering face of the one man she feared above all others—Luke Tate.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Kitty struggled in vain against the man who held her. Finally, she was able to twist her face to part her lips and bit down on a finger that slid between her teeth. Yelping, he let her go, and she was able to scream.