Romancing the Rogue (212 page)

The next morning dawned bitterly cold and overcast. One could almost forget it was near on the middle of April and Easter lilies were in bloom. Rachel wrapped the little boy tightly in one of Grayson’s blankets and I instructed Amelia to keep one tight around her shoulders.

Grayson and Matthew hitched up the wagon. Sally was being stubborn and Grayson was giving her a talking to. Matthew had Fran all ready and willing to go, her having pulled a wagon numerous times for my father. The General would be tied to the wagon when Grayson wasn’t riding him. I only hoped the wagon’s pace wasn’t too slow for either my rebel or the spirited chestnut.

We had nearly a full eight hour trek ahead of us and I wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

Grayson and Matthew took turns riding the General and handling the strings to the cart. My sister and the children sat toward the rear. They spoke very little. We all did our best to avoid looking at the long wooden box just behind the driver’s bench. I myself held a fear of being pitched out the back of a wagon, having had that experience as a child, so I settled safely onto the seat beside the driver. Grayson and I chatted comfortably whenever he was at the reins but Matthew and I spoke little. He was a strange man
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never rude, but
definitely unapproachable. Still
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I wasn’t about to ride in the back of the wagon, not with its open back and low slatted sides.

“What was your life like before the war?” I asked Grayson shortly after he and Matthew had switched places for the second time.

“It was quiet.” He sighed as he continued. “It had been me and Fischer since he was ten. Yeah. It was quiet, peaceful like. I’m sure ready for that quiet again.”

“What do you like best?”

“There’s a creek, decent sized, runs the border of my place. I loved to just sit by that creek. Maybe dangle a line, catch a fish or two. That creek has the coldest, sweetest water, Liv. Can’t wait for you to taste it.” He licked his lips after he spoke.

I longed for it too, wanting to taste what he spoke about. “Me, too.”

“There’s a house. Sits near the creek, so close it nearly flooded eight years back. Was my grandparents’ place. Only three rooms, small. Meant for Fischer when he gets settled. Figure you and your sister can use it till he’s ready. It’s not much, mind, but it’s dry, and would be a respectable dwelling for you to stay. Can’t stay alone with me, even with Fischer. Wouldn’t be right.” He squeezed my fingers as he went on. “That’s if either place still stands.”

“I’m sure they do. Who you got looking after things for you?" Live that close to him on the farm he described—it sounded so heavenly.

“A cousin and her boy. Check in on the place, keep watch for vandals. It’s good, I think, for the fields to go unplanted for a few seasons. But it’s going be hard work getting them ready for planting again.” His gaze took in the fields on each side of the dirt path we traveled and his mouth pulled down and his brows drew together. “Yep, a lot of hard work.”

“So do you and Fischer handle all the planting yourselves?”

“Too big for that. Whole town helps out. We help their fields, too. We’re a small community, just farmers and a few shop-keeps. It’s quiet.” His breath rushed out before the words, giving them a wistful tone. “Damn is it quiet.”

“Do you or your brother have people waiting on you?”

“Used to. Ten years ago. My folks passed and her and Fischer weren’t too keen on each other. She called it off. Were going to marry, but I’m glad we didn’t.”

“How old was your brother?”

“Ten or thereabouts.”

“She couldn’t get along with a little boy?” What kind of woman had he courted
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that she couldn’t get along with a grieving child?

“She was young, spoiled even. A little boy who’d just lost both his parents demanded too much from her, by my reckoning. It was just best for all of us if she were free to find someone a little more to her liking.”

“Did she?”

“Year after we parted ways. There’s a lawyer in town. Her father set up the match, she seems pleased with it. Got a couple of boys; a girl, too, I think.” He shook his head as he spoke, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the straps.

“Do you miss her any?”

“No. We wouldn’t have suited. Know that now.”

I was glad they hadn’t married. If they had he wouldn’t be with me now. From the sound of it, she didn’t deserve a man like Grayson, anyway. Someone who begrudged a boy a little extra attention and love wouldn’t suit this caring and compassionate gentleman.

“Why the questions?”

His words broke me from my concentration and I stiffened my spine. “Just making conversation, wondering about you and Fischer. Did he have a sweetheart?”

“No, he was too young. Only fifteen when war talk started. He’s only about your age now.” He looked at me, lips quirked. “So book smart, always talking about one strange thing or another. I think he idealized, romanticized, the whole idea of war. Bet he’s learned different now.”

“You not seen him the whole of the war?”

“Passed him last Christmas. He’d gotten at least four inches taller. Even had whiskers. I nearly didn’t recognize him.” His voice tightened, echoing the actions of his fingers.

“What’s he do
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do you know?”

“Corporal, I think. I started out in the med tents. Worked up to surgeon’s assistant. Now I am a surgeon.”

“So you are some kind of doctor then? You like it?”

“No. And God willing, I won’t have to do any cutting again.”

“What? Why?”

“Ain’t going to get into that now.” His mouth firmed and his knuckles showed white against the brown leather reins.

“I think you were probably a wonderful doctor. You have a kind manner.”

“I will always have the knowhow, Liv, but now I just don’t think I have the desire.”

“May I ask why? If you’ve been given the gift and the training, aren’t you obligated to use it? Isn’t that why God gives you the opportunity to get the learning?”

“I think I’ve more than satisfied any just God with the bloodletting I’ve done.”

“But you’re a doctor, you helped people!”

“Liv, more people died from my cutting off their limbs then being shot flat-out!”

“But isn’t there more to being a doctor than just amputations and such?”

“Not that I saw.”

“What about babies? Taking care of a town full of people? Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I’ve no experience with that.”

“You could learn, couldn’t you? I mean, you learned to be a surgeon.”

“Not sure I want to. I just want the quiet again.”

“I see.” His shoulders had stiffened and I decided to let the subject lie. After all, who was I to direct him? “What do you think Fischer will do when he gets back home?”

“Don’t know him anymore, really. He’s a man now.” He ran a hand over his chin, rubbed his lips.

“I’m sure he’ll just be happy to be home, too.” I reached out a hand and ran a finger over the hard tendon in his arm, softly brushing over his taut knuckles, running the hills and valleys until they relaxed. “Just a little while longer and we’ll be there.”

He covered my hand, trapping it between both of his. “I’m glad you’ll be going with me. Tennessee is the most beautiful place you’ll ever see.”

“Is it?” I leaned into him, pulling my blanket tighter around me. His hand left mine, coming to rest behind my shoulders. He pulled me to rest against his body. I loved being that close to him; he smelled so good, so warm. He dropped a kiss upon my brow, and I closed my eyes, resting my head there against his lips.

“Sure is. Only seeing it for yourself can make it clear to you. I can’t wait until we get there.”

“I can’t wait either.” I stammered the words, opening my eyes and looking into his. My voice rang with a sincerity I honestly wanted to convey. I wanted to go to Tennessee with him. Wanted to stand on his farm, drink from the creek he had mentioned
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I wanted to do all those things with him.

Partially through our journey, Matthew pulled the cart to a stop and we all climbed out, eager to stretch our legs a little. Amelia and I set about emptying the food basket onto the back of the wagon. We all were famished and dove into the bread and cheese as well as the dried meats. I topped the last chunk of bread with a bit of cheese and some of the meats and handed it to Grayson, knowing how big of an appetite the man possessed. He smiled and thanked me and I lowered my head, looking at him through my lashes.

We dallied little over our meal. The temperature hadn’t warmed any as the hours had passed and we were all anxious to reach our destination. We reloaded our wagon and once more took our seats. Rachel held the boy close, keeping him tucked under her blanket. Amelia huddled close against her side. I pulled my own blanket tighter until I noticed that the driver beside me was shivering, not having a blanket. I reached out and tucked the woolen cover over Grayson’s back before aligning myself even closer to his side. Poor Matthew rode beside our wagon, exposed to the harshly cold wind.

As the horses pulled onward I began to wonder if it might actually snow. “What if it snows?”

“We’re almost there, I think. You’ll be settled soon. Don’t worry, I won’t let you freeze.” He wrapped me tighter, tucked the edge of the blanket around my ears. “I’m sure Lofton’s expecting us. He’ll have a nice fire going to thaw you out.”

A fire sounded absolutely heavenly. A warm fire, a s
oft bed¯I couldn’t wait. Two more hours passed, with us all growing steadily colder, until I could just make out the outline of Jessup Mills’ barn in the distance.

It was as if I had never seen the old structure before in my life. Everything seemed so different now. In the distance over the hill, I could see the lamps as they glowed in my uncle’s windows. We were that close, and my breath caught. What if someone happened to see our wagon as it rolled past? Would they be able to recognize us in the dim light, and through the light snow that was falling?

We soon rounded the last bend, Lofton’s house coming into our limited view. Only half the size of my uncle’s, this home was still an impressive structure. A two-story with whitewashed wood sides and green slat shutters, it was a nice house. The porch was wide, ran around three-quarters of the building, and rockers were found in nearly every corner. It looked so homey, so inviting
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it seemed the most peaceful place.

Someone gave out a shout as the wagon rolled nearer the house. Two tall men near to Grayson’s age rushed down the wooden steps, grabbing at our horses’ heads. They slowed them as Grayson pulled back on the reins. The men had the look of Matthew and I knew they must be two of his brothers I had never met. They eyed Grayson suspiciously before turning to my sisters.

“You must be Amelia.” One said, giving the child a hand down from the wagon. He looked between Rachel and me before asking, “Which one is Rachel?”

“I’m Olivia. Rachel’s elder sister. This is my, our, friend Grayson.” I indicated the man beside me, as Rachel still hadn’t spoken to her brothers-in-law. “We’ve brought your cousin Elias, as well.”

As I spoke Grayson assisted me down from the wagon, his hands wrapped around my waist. Matthew assisted Rachel, a guiding hand on her back. She just stared at him silently. He touched her cheek gently before turning to Amelia. “Best take your sisters inside, pet. You know where things are, get everyone settled.”

Amelia nodded, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me towards the front door. I looked at Grayson, wanting him to come as well. I didn’t want to leave him alone with Matthew’s brothers. He shook his head at me then nodded toward the wagon and its grievous load. He and the Lofton boys led the horses and wagon off toward one of the big barns nearest the house.

“Wait!” Rachel yelled, “Don’t take him, please don’t take him!”

She started to run after the wagon, screaming her husband’s name. Matthew jumped down from the wagon, where he’d been riding close to the casket. He stopped her, catching her around her waist and taking Elias from her. I ran off the porch and he thrust the crying child into my arms. I wanted to comfort my sister but instead wrapped the boy tightly, rocking him, soothing him, trying to quiet the first real sounds he had made in all this time.

Matthew lifted Rachel, carrying her close to his chest. She was a small woman and he a good-sized man but I still wanted to protest. Matthew could hurt himself again, injure his leg permanently, even. The man didn’t maneuver that well anyway
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what if he dropped her?

Rachel wept as he carried her into his father’s kitchen. I followed quickly with the still sobbing boy. His tears soaked the front of my gown, mingling with the tiny snowflakes that had dusted me as I walked inside. I didn’t care; my own eyes were damp as he finally began speaking, calling for his mama over and over again.

“Shh. Baby. Everything will be all right now. It’s all right.” I murmured the words, patting his little back. Hands guided me to a rocker next to the big iron cook stove and I looked up into weathered face of Todd Lofton, Gideon’s father.

“That Elias?” he asked and I nodded.

“The fire blinded him,” Amelia told him as she pulled a chair nearer to me. The child had held up remarkably well the last few days and I was so proud of her. “His mama’s family didn’t think they could take care of him. They gave him over to Rachel.”

“Just like that, eh?” The derision on the man’s face was there for all to see. I was aware he agreed with my assessment. They’d probably shoved the little boy into my sister’s arms. I once again nodded, answering his question silently.

“How’s your sister holding up?” He pulled a chair nearer to me as Matthew rocked Rachel in another huge rocker. He still held her inappropriately close, but I said nothing. I doubted Rachel was even aware of who held her. “She been like this ever since?”