Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (22 page)

He cleared his throat and let go of my hand,
then leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes. The cool
breeze from the river blew, causing the long strands of my hair to
dance around his face. The herons had walked on, and the frog had
found its way further down the river’s edge, as if to leave us
alone. I gazed at Warren. Though he didn’t make my heart race and
fill my stomach with dozens of butterflies, he certainly was a man
who could easily steal a girl’s heart.

Warren’s lids opened, revealing fury in his
eyes.

“The rest of the tale is rather gruesome. I’m
uncertain if I should reveal it all to you,” he confessed and stood
up.

I jumped up and grabbed hold of his
hands.

“You must tell me!” I cried. “After all, I
have seen you fallen, wounded, and half dead. I’m not afraid,
Warren. Please tell me what happened next!”

He sighed and nodded. “All right, then.”

I urged him to sit back down.

“Minutes after Paul died, I set out to hunt
down the Union sharpshooter who took his life. It was dark, and
there was no moon that night to guide me. I stole away without
permission, and I didn’t care. I was able to track the soldier, and
day after day I followed him. He thought he was hidden as he
perched up in the forest trees and stayed motionless for hours on
end, waiting for a Confederate to cross into his line of fire. He
never knew I was there. He wasn’t aware that I was now the hunter
and he had become my prey. I watched him kill two more men during
that week. I was sick over it, Amelia, I truly was. But I had a
mission to accomplish, and nothing and no one would stop me until
that man was dead. As dead as Paul was.

“Finally I had my chance. We had made our way
into Savannah and down the river. The day was scorching. I stayed
hidden behind a thick oak tree not far from where he waited in
hiding. When he came down to take a drink from the river, I closed
in on him.”

My eyes opened wide with anticipation and I
held my breath as he described the attack.

“I ambushed him and sent him toppling to the
ground. I didn’t want to kill him right away; I wanted him to beg
for mercy first.”

“It all sounds so terrible,” I gasped.

“It was. Something inside me snapped, and I
couldn’t wait to watch him die. However, he had other plans. He was
an experienced soldier, and I wasn’t prepared for the fight he put
up. I threw several punches to his face, but he was strong, and he
grabbed hold of me and pinned me down. That’s when I looked into
his eyes and knew beyond a doubt that he was going to kill me if I
didn’t kill him first. I tried to reach for my knife, but couldn’t.
As soon as I was able to maneuver out from under his hold, I laid
another blow to his face. He returned the punches, and just as I
went to grab for my knife to plunge it into his gut, he snatched it
from me and stabbed me over and over.

“The man ran off, but not before I was able
to reach my musket, which lay on the ground near to where I’d
fallen, and I fired it at him. I’m not sure if I got him. I was
bleeding and only caught a glimpse of your plantation through the
forest. With my hand pressing into my wounds to stop the blood, I
staggered on, but soon collapsed. Then I woke sometime later to see
you standing over me. I thought I had died and gone to heaven,
Amelia. I truly did.”

“I am glad to have found you,” I said and
patted his hand. “Now you’re all right.”

“That’s why I must leave. I have regained my
memories. I should return to my battalion and confess everything.
They may just consider me a deserter and for that, the punishment
is severe.”

“You can’t leave,” I cried.

Warren’s eyes widened in excitement as he
sensed the desperation in my voice. I didn’t want him to leave. Not
yet. I saw how jealous having Warren here at Sutton Hall made
Patrick. I couldn’t help but want to make Patrick distraught and
agitated. I needed to flirt with Warren to make Patrick see how
much he truly wanted me. As improper as it was, and as many times
as I cursed myself for my forbidden dreams, I didn’t care.

Warren eagerly waited for my confession of
love for him. After all, why else would he believe I didn’t want
him to leave? I wondered if I could pull off such propaganda and
lead him into staying. Little did he or anyone else realize, I was
madly, insanely in love with Patrick Garrett Arrington.

~ ~ ~

At supper that evening, it was apparent what
kind of mood we were all in. Warren was predictably elated,
delighted that I had begged him to stay, believing me when I told
him that I would grow to love him in time.

“Do you mean it, Amelia? Is it true you have
the kind of feelings for me that I have for you?” he asked before
we left the edge of the river.

“I think so, Warren. Please don’t leave until
I have a chance to know for sure. We won’t tell a soul that your
memory has come back. It will be our secret exclusively.”

It pained me only slightly to lie to Warren
and to share a lie before my own family. But what could it hurt to
have him believe that he and I would be together someday soon? And
what harm did it do to have him stay at Sutton Hall? Warren was an
asset to have around, in many different ways.

Eugenia was obviously relieved that Daddy was
home, but she maintained a worried frown. She was clearly
distraught over Daddy’s injury.

“Please, Thomas, let Hamilton fetch the
doctor to look at your leg. Just to make sure,” she pleaded.

“There is nothing to concerned about. I’m
fine. It just needs time to heal. Soon I’ll be walking again.”

Patrick looked as dashing as ever. He was
freshly shaven, groomed to perfection, as always, for supper.
Though he didn’t greet me that evening, I did notice him looking my
way when I allowed Warren to move his chair closer to me. Then he
became discontented and cleared his throat before turning his
attention to Daddy.

“This war, I predict, will drag on. There is
no end in sight, I’m afraid,” Daddy said. “The battles are few now,
but will escalate. The North plans to choke us, and we must do
everything in our power to keep them from defeating us. Our way of
life can’t survive without slaves. Though we have lost most of them
for now, if we win this war we will have them back, and our
plantation will be up and running again. Without the slaves, if the
North succeeds in their plan to have them free, we will lose
everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve,” Daddy said
wearily.

“Why do you sound so hopeless, Father? I
believe that with a flourishing Confederate army and substantial
navy we have every hope to win this war,” Patrick replied.

Daddy put down his fork and turned to
Patrick. The two were much alike in their convictions, so much that
I could see how easy it was for them to clash. Most men agreed with
Daddy; few ever challenged his views.

“I am not hopeless, Patrick; I am a realist.
This will not be an effortless war. We need more and stronger
troops. That is why I will be returning to my regiment.”

Eugenia gasped at the thought. “Thomas,
no!”

“I must do my part,” he said without
hesitation.

“Father is right. We will not win this war
without using every ounce of courage and determination we can
muster,” Patrick said.

Warren sat quietly as usual, listening
intently.

“You’re injured. You can’t go back to battle.
And we need you here to run the plantation. We can’t do it with
Hamilton alone!”

“My injuries are not substantial. And you
have Warren here. You will stay on, won’t you?” Daddy asked of
Warren. “After all, your memory hasn’t returned, has it?”

Warren’s back stiffened, and he nervously
cleared his throat before replying. “Certainly, sir. I would be
honored to look after your family in this time of need.”

Warren gave me an uneasy look, appearing
concerned that his minor deception would somehow be revealed.

“Warren has nowhere to go. He can’t remember
anyone or anything before the terrible wound that some vile Union
soldier inflicted upon him. Of course he should stay. And after
all, Patrick is leaving in a few weeks, aren’t you Patrick?”

It pained me to think of Patrick leaving, but
I knew it was inevitable and planned to take advantage of the time
we still had together.

“Well…yes, I will be leaving. Nevertheless, I
think the plantation can survive until Father returns…”

“No, Warren will stay on. He can look after
the plantation and my family in my absence,” Daddy interrupted.

“This is all so stressful!” Eugenia
cried.

Just then Jacob Thomas came bursting in. He
had his pennywhistle in hand, blowing into it and then laughing
with delight at the sound it made. All eyes fell on him, the sweet
little boy who hadn’t a care in the world.

“Why, Jacob, good to see you, young lad,”
Daddy greeted him. He spoke merrily, just the way he used to talk
to me when I was very young. “Come sit with me.”

I had never seen Daddy hold Jacob Thomas or
speak a word to him. Jacob ran over and jumped onto Daddy’s lap and
smiled widely. Eugenia was flustered and couldn’t contain her angry
glare.

“Who gave you the pennywhistle?” Daddy asked,
as Jacob pulled on the ends of his newly-acquired beard.

“Amelia!” Jacob laughed and pointed to
me.

I smiled with delight. Jacob finally knew how
to say my name correctly.

“Oh, I see,” Daddy said. “That was very kind
of her.”

“Amelia my sister,” Jacob added.

Patrick’s eyes widened in surprise. Eugenia
let out a subtle groan as Mammy rushed into the room.

“Sorry he interrupted your supper,” Mammy
said in a fluster and hurried over to take Jacob from Daddy’s arms.
“Didn’t notice he had gone off.”

Mammy was winded and nervous. Daddy’s face
flushed as she whisked the little boy from his lap. Eugenia flew
out of her chair and ran from the room, with Daddy going after her.
Mammy hurried out.

“What was that all about?” Warren asked after
the commotion.

I didn’t know what to say and stammered as I
tried to find the words to explain.

Patrick sensed my discomfort. “Warren, I need
you to split some wood. I will tend to the stable. Amelia, this was
a fine supper. Thank you.”

I rose from my seat and began to clear the
table. Warren stole up behind me and placed a quick kiss on my
cheek, then set off.

Patrick noticed and pulled me aside. My heart
raced when he took hold of my arm as I stood against the wall,
barely able to concentrate on what he was saying.

“You need to be careful around Mr. Stone,”
Patrick warned.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I nervously giggled
under the heat of his breath. His face was inches from mine, stern
and serious.

“That little boy . . . he is the product of
our father and that slave woman, Abigail?” he asked, shaking me out
of my dreamy mindset.

“Why, yes. Daddy and Mammy loved one another.
It was long ago, before he married Eugenia,” I stammered.

“Our father loves no one. He is a man, a
selfish, egotistical man. That’s how men are. That’s how Warren is.
You stay away from him, you hear!”

The fire in his eyes grew as I remained
silent, afraid and excited at the same time. I thought back to
Perry Montgomery and his lust for me. Then I thought of the kiss
between Patrick and me. The kiss we sinfully shared, the one that I
wanted again and again.

“Do you understand what I am saying to you.”
It was more a statement than a question. “Our father is addicted to
beautiful women. Most men are. It is shameful, but true.” He
released his tight grip on my arm. I hadn’t realized my arm was
throbbing. I was only aware of my racing heart.

“I care about you. It is obvious that Father
is preoccupied. I don’t want you to ever be hurt.”

“No one will hurt me. Certainly not Warren.
He is a sweet man. He would never . . .”

Patrick grabbed me again. “You’re acting like
such a little girl. Your mother was the same way. Men of all ages
were captivated by her beauty. It was as if she had the power to
cast spells. Love spells,” he softly added. His look turned far
away, just like the last time he spoke of her. But this time,
disappointingly, he didn’t lean in for a kiss; he backed away
before he lost his senses again.

“Why does everyone compare me to her?” My
cries snapped him out of his daze.

“I didn’t mean you were just like her, I
meant…”

“I don’t care what you meant!” I fired back
and ran off.

Down the hall in their bedrooms on the second
floor, Daddy and Eugenia were arguing. No doubt about Mammy.
Eugenia was so jealous of his love for her.

As Patrick followed after me, he called for
me to stop.

“Wait, Amelia, please. I truly didn’t mean to
upset you.”

I spun around. “Go away, Patrick!”

“I’m sorry,” he said and stopped before me. I
grabbed hold of the door to my room, but he blocked my
entrance.

“All right. I will leave you be. I just want
you to know that I care about you. You’re my sister, and I feel a
great need to protect you. I feel it’s my duty. I owe that, at the
very least, to Charlotte,” he murmured and reached out to touch the
ends of my long hair. “She begged me to look after you. She sensed
she was going to die.”

“Then where have you been all these years?” I
sniffled.

“In time I will explain it all to you. But
not now.”

“But you’re leaving soon!”

I sensed his desperation to disclose secrets
of the past and tales of the present, but he remained
uncommunicative.

“Thank you for the Christmas gift. It means
so much to me,” he said, changing the subject and backing away to
leave me.