Glory (12 page)

She leaned forward, her face in her hands.

The wind whipped up higher. Darkness and rain were on their way. It seemed only fitting.

A strange unease suddenly ripped through her. She raised her head, wiped her eyes, and looked around anxiously. Then she froze.

He was back. Colonel McKenzie. Not the Yankee colonel—the Rebel one.

He leaned against the nearby sprawling old oak, arms crossed over his chest as if he had stood there a while. He watched her with cool blue eyes that were both disdainful and dispassionate. Tremors washed through her, and she gritted her teeth, staring back at him. She thought that she had washed away all dreams, fears, and memories. Yet had she been dreaming about Richard?

What had she done last night?

“What are you doing back here, Colonel?”

“You didn’t leave with the Yanks,” he said.

“No. Was I supposed to have done so?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she inquired. Then she remembered Ian McKenzie’s persistence that she come with him, and she thought that she’d been a fool to think otherwise—the McKenzies had met that day, no matter what lies they told her or their troops. She also remembered Ian’s warning that the Rebs might want retribution against her.

“Have you come back to burn down my house?” she asked.

He arched a brow, gazing past her to the house. “It’s a fine structure, handsome, sound. Why would I want to burn it down?”

“Because this is a Confederate state, and I’m a traitor to it. Isn’t that the way you see it?”

“Yes, but I haven’t come to burn down your house.”

“Then why are you back?”

“You, Mrs. Tremaine. I have come for you,” he told her lightly.

“Me!” she repeated, startled. She stared at him, certain he was taunting her.

“Yes, Mrs. Tremaine. You should have gone with the Yankees. Now you’ll have to come with me.”

She shook her head, eyeing him warily. Carefully, she came to her feet. Was he so angry that she had summoned the Yanks? Did he mean her serious harm for what he saw as betrayal?

“I’m not coming with you anywhere!” she whispered.

“But you are.” He took a step toward her.

She turned and ran.

He might look weary and gaunt, but he was faster than a cheetah and upon her in a matter of seconds. He caught her by the shoulders and she spun around, tripping over a root. She fell, and he was caught up with her motion, and they crashed down to the ground together.

With the air knocked from her lungs, she gasped for breath. He was far quicker to recover, rolling her over, pinning her down as he straddled her.

“Oh, come now, Mrs. Tremaine, I cannot believe that you’re so afraid of me. After what happened last night—”

“Nothing happened last night!” she cried.

“Deny what you will. That’s not the point here.”

“The point, sir? There is no point! You’re a Rebel, I’m not. You invaded my house. You weren’t welcome, but I helped you keep your friend alive. There is nothing else, I owe you nothing. Last night you broke down my door—after having invaded my house!—and you rudely took my medicine away from me.”

“Medicine!”

“Medicine kills pain, doesn’t it?”

He stared down at her. “I took your opiate away, yes. And yet, if I did it so rudely, what a pity that you can’t really remember the rest of the night.”

“I ... fell asleep.”

“You did do that, yes.”

“And I sent for the Yankees. I can’t be sorry for that! Well, is that it then? I’m a traitor, under arrest, to be punished, is that what it is? I still won’t go with you. Hang me, shoot me, here and now!”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? An easy out! The wretched Rebs killed your Richard and turned around and executed you as well. You’d die damned happy, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“You wouldn’t have to kill yourself then.”

“I’ve not tried to kill myself!” she flared furiously.

“Fine. Then you can summon something called courage and help other people.”

“What?”

“We’re going to have a little stroll through your personal pharmacy, Mrs. Tremaine. Through your garden. Then you’re coming with me.”

“You can steal every plant, shrub, vial, and potion on the place, Colonel McKenzie,” she told him. “But I won’t be coming with you anywhere.”

“Because you want to stay here and prostrate yourself on Richard’s grave daily?” he demanded sharply.

She inhaled a long breath, staring at him, feeling the rigor of the muscles in his thighs where they clenched around her and feeling the angry heat and power within his eyes.

“If that’s what I choose to do—”

He leaned toward her, blue eyes as cutting as an ice fire. “Richard is dead, Mrs. Tremaine. Dead and buried and, as some believe, in a far better place. Others are still here. Still fighting, still bleeding. People who need you. I can swear to you, I have done surgery on both Yanks and Rebs. If you are blinded to the fact that you can help heal those who are desperate, then I will open your eyes.”

“You can’t make me come with you—”

“How strange. I believe that I can.”

“You cannot mean to force me!” she said contemptuously.

“That I do.”

She stared at him, astonished. “That’s kidnapping.”

“I don’t give a damn what it is.”

“You—you can’t do any such thing!” she stuttered. “Where were you raised? Southern gentlemen do not behave this way. I will not allow you to behave this way—”

“Oh, what will you do—shoot me yourself? Find your Southern virtue so compromised that you’ll kill yourself—with an overdose of drugs and wine?”

His features were as hard and implacable as his words. Chills seized her and then, deep, hot frightening tremors. She wanted to twist away. She was so afraid ...

He’d called her a coward already. She wouldn’t let him know that she was afraid of him. Afraid of herself, afraid of the void of a night that had passed.

She raised her chin, surveying him coolly. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself! Colonel McKenzie, who do you think you are? I don’t have to go anywhere with you. You are the one in danger, the one who had best do as I say. Angus will shoot you if I tell him to.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You underestimate Angus.”

“I’ve seen Angus. He doesn’t look like a cold-blooded killer to me.”

“He’d kill you instantly if he thought you were threatening my life.”

“But I’m willing to bet he knows I’m trying to save it.”

“Will you stop that! I am not suicidal—”

“Only accidentally suicidal.”

She gritted down hard on her teeth, staring at him. She remembered him standing in the middle of her bedroom. She had been—on the balcony? He’d been wearing a towel and a gun, no more. What then? He’d tried to take the vial from her, and they’d argued, and she thought she remembered losing the argument, crying ... And then?

Sleeping.

Dreaming.

“I’m telling you, I am not taking any opiates—”

“Good. I need you in control of all your faculties.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Understand me. I’m not coming with you—”

“You are.”

“To assist in surgery on more Rebs—”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. One Reb in particular. A blockade runner. A man who has provided a desperate people with life-saving supplies.”

“You’re the great physician. You save his life.”

“I’m a physician—good enough to know that all my skill in surgery means little against a flaming infection.”

“What makes you think I can make a difference?”

“Rumor has it,” he said dryly. “I watched you with Paddy.”

“I competently ripped his trousers.”

“You know how to clean a wound, salve it, bandage it.”

“So do many people.”

“Not nearly so well.”

“I’m not saving any more Rebs—” she began in a stubborn whisper.

“You’re saving this one.”

“Why? Because he bests his Northern enemies with such skill and talent?”

She was startled when he stared down at her a long while before answering.

“No,” he said after a moment. “Because he’s my flesh and blood. He’s my cousin.”

She fell silent and after a moment he rose, reaching a hand down to her.

She stared at his hand, and back to his eyes, shaking her head.

“I—can’t come with you.”

“I insist.”

“And if I don’t ... ?”

“I cart you off, screaming and hollering.”

She smiled. “I’d be worthless—your superior officers would make you let me go.”

He leaned down toward her. “Mrs. Tremaine, I very often am the superior officer in these parts. You should have gone with my brother, Ian. But you didn’t. So now, you can come with me.”

“I was going to go with your brother. In fact, he’s coming back, and I have every intention—”

“That lie will not serve you now.”

“Will you listen to me! I’m telling you the truth. I really intended to go—in a few days’ time. I had some things here that I had to do—”

“Cry a few more buckets over Richard’s grave.”

Jumping up, she backed away from him. “How dare you! How dare you even speak his name! You didn’t know him, you didn’t know what he was like, the kind of courage he showed, the way he was willing to die for others—”

“The way he would want you spending your life dying over his grave now?” he queried.

“I was saying good-bye.”

“Good, because I’m ready to go.”

“Then go!”

“You’re coming with me. And we’ve work to do before we leave.”

She was poised to run away from him once again, certain he meant to reach out, grab her arm, and drag her along with him.

But he walked on past her, and she realized that he was heading for the house, and that he meant to go through her store of supplies without her.

“Wait!” she cried, coming after him. “You have your nerve! You told me that you didn’t rob, rape, pillage, or the like, and here you are,
stealing—
”

“I’m not stealing anything. You’re giving me what I need. You’re supplying the sons of your state with the medicines they need to live.”

He was walking very quickly, and she was surprised to find herself hurrying along beside him. “Oh, you are a wretched, sorry bastard, McKenzie. Doctor, indeed! You will twist anything, you are a manipulator, a—”

She broke off, suddenly realizing that she was indeed being manipulated.

She stood still, smiling. “Fine, sir, you want to pillage my garden and my supplies? You are carrying a gun—I’m not. I can’t stop you. So go ahead, help yourself.”

She spun around, hurrying back toward the cemetery. A dense pine forest began just a few feet beyond the graveyard, and she could disappear within it and hide until he’d been forced to take his leave.

She didn’t hear him—or sense him. He came up behind her so quickly that she let out a stunned gasp when he swept her into his arms, doing another about-face to return to the house.

She slammed a fist against his chest. “Would you let me down?”

“No.”

“Damn you, let me go—”

“I’ll be delighted to do so. Extremely delighted to do so. Just as soon as I can hog-tie you and find a muzzle,” he said.

“Don’t you understand?” she demanded, struggling against his hold. “You’re a Reb. I despise you.”

“Interesting. You didn’t despise me last night,” he remarked casually.

She sucked in her breath, startled by his subtle attack. “I did, I do, I despise all Rebs, and I can’t bear you holding me, touching me.”

“Again, you were not so delicate last night.”

“I fought with you last night.”

“And ripped off my towel.”

She gasped and started pummeling him in fury once again. “I did not! I wouldn’t.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not on purpose, but you did!” He was taunting her; there was a mocking light in his eyes as he stared down at her.

“There was nothing!” she cried, her voice rising desperately. “Nothing happened last night.”

He was silent, walking along with his long strides, heedless of her pummeling fists and struggles.

He reached the rear entrance to the house and brought them through the back door. “Angus!” she cried in frustration.

But there was no one in the main house. No one was there to answer her cries. Where they had gone she didn’t know, but she could feel the emptiness.

Yet just when she thought that she would explode with the velocity of a cannon, he set her down in the center of the small rear hall, between the pantry and the kitchen.

“Your potions, Mrs. Tremaine?”

She glared at him, fists clenched as her sides. “When he comes back,” she said, “Angus will shoot you.”

“Angus is saddling your horse, Mrs. Tremaine,” he told her.

Stunned, she stared at him. “I don’t believe you. Angus is from Vermont. He’s a free man. A friend as well as a servant. He is appalled and sickened by slavery—”

“I don’t own any slaves, Mrs. Tremaine. If you wish, you can go upstairs for more clothing and a few personal effects. I can see your jars and vials. I’ll take care of packing these things.”

She stared at him. He was already assessing her stores of ointments, salves, poultices, and opiates. He knew exactly what he wanted, what he would take.

She backed away, still disbelieving that he could so calmly demand that she accompany him, and sped up the stairs. She burst into Rachel’s room, seeking help, but there was no help to be found. The girl wasn’t there. Stunned and angry, she walked back into her own room.

She began swearing softly, wanting to know where everyone had suddenly gone, and what in God’s name was happening.

She realized, as she ranted, that she was packing a small canvas bag, as if she did, indeed, intend to be away several nights.

If he was going to force her to come with him, she’d have some of her own things, at the very least.

She opened the wardrobe, reaching for her cloak. It was summer and the heat could be intense, but rains came at night, and they could be cool.

The wardrobe was filled with Richard’s civilian clothing.

How could she have forgotten?
For a moment, standing there, she was so struck with fresh pain that she couldn’t move. Then the numbness and reality began to set in. Richard was gone. And as horrible as it might be, the Reb doctor’s face was a far clearer picture in her mind right now.