Read In a Stranger's Arms Online
Authors: Deborah Hale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Victorian, #Historical Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #United States, #Historical Romance
“I haven’t decided.” Caddie pressed her fingers to her throbbing forehead. “It depends on what happens with Manning. He’ll probably want to give Lon another chance if...”
If he wakes up.
The unspoken words gagged her.
The doctor patted her shoulder. “Might as well hope for the best, child. Send for me if there’s any change.”
“Thank you, Doc.” Caddie dredged up a tired smile. “I’ll do that. If you wouldn’t mind seeing yourself out I’ll go back and sit with him some more. Might it bring my husband around sooner if I talk to him?”
“It can’t hurt.”
It might not help, either. As she watched Doc Mercer descend the stairs with a heavy tread, Caddie sensed those words had been on the tip of his tongue.
She turned her back on that thought and returned to her seat beside the bed. Even if it made no difference to Manning, talking would help her.
“I reckon I’m being selfish, wanting you to wake up.” She stroked his sound arm. “At least this way you’re not in any pain.”
His face looked so serene, purged of the tension and remorse that had oppressed him from the first day they’d met.
“If you could just open your eyes for a minute or two, give some sign that you know me, I’d let you go back to sleep and not pester you anymore. So, if you can hear me, even a little, will you try to wake up? Or if that’s too much, just hang on. Whatever you do, don’t slip away.”
A sob retched out of her. She battled for her composure and won. What could she say that might lure Manning to open his eyes or at least strengthen his will to keep on breathing?
Perhaps if she could cut the ties on that awful load of guilt, before it dragged him down to oblivion...
“You might have fired the shot that killed Del, but I’m the one who shoved him in the path of your bullet...” Once she started, the words heaved out of her and she couldn’t have stopped them any more than she could have poured blood back
into
a gaping wound. She talked about Del and their marriage, about finding him with Lydene. About the bitterness that had festered between them afterward.
“He joined the cavalry to get as far away from me as he could. Looking back, I hardly blame him. Even that last letter I wrote.
Your faithful wife, Caddie.
I couldn’t resist rubbing it in. Yet you said he talked about me when he lay dying. He sent you to take care of me and the children.”
Her words choked off and it took a while for her to begin speaking again. “I had plenty of chances to forgive Del, to tell him I was sorry for what went wrong between us. Now it’s too late and I’m going to have to live with that. I know you can find a way to live with what happened, too. You just have to try. Please.”
One of Manning’s eyelids flickered. Had he intended that, or had it been some reflex? Caddie held her breath, waiting to see if it would happen again. It didn’t.
She lifted his limp hand and pressed it to her cheek, wondering if she would ever feel his caress again.
He couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t move or speak. It was as if his mind had taken up residence outside his body.
The sound of Caddie’s voice reached him, though, and he held on to it like a filament of golden thread that might lead him out of a baffling maze. He concentrated on her words and tried to move his consciousness toward them.
When she spoke of her first marriage, Manning was certain the pain in her voice would wring an answering sigh from his senseless hulk of a body. Discovering that she’d carried her own burden of guilt over Del Marsh’s death somehow eased his.
He heard a rising tide of desperation in her voice.
“I know it would probably be a whole lot easier to slip away, but the children and I need you. Tem especially. I’ve told him it wasn’t wise for him and Varina to do what they did this morning, but that it was very brave. I told him if anything happens to you, it’ll be Lon’s fault, not his. But you know what he’s like—”
Her voice broke. “He’s like you. He’ll carry this around with him for the rest of his life, and I know you don’t want that.”
He was almost there. Manning could feel the pain in his head and his arm. And his heart.
Sense warned him to avoid pain. Love told him it was part of the price for being alive.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Manning Forbes. You may be a Yankee, but you are no carpetbagger! Fie but I hate that word!”
“So do I.” His mouth was so dry and his tongue so awkward, Manning wasn’t sure Caddie would understand his words.
She must have, though, for she laughed and sobbed and gasped for breath. She squeezed his hand so tight that for a moment it made him forget his other pains.
“Can you open your eyes?”
About as easily as he could turn the mill wheel with his bare hands—but be managed. The sight of Caddie’s face was worth the effort.
“You’re beau-tiful,’’ he croaked.
She laughed through her tears. “Liar!”
“I’ve got... to sleep awhile, but I’ll be... back.”
“I’ll be here when you wake up again.” The brilliant light of her smile almost blinded him. “From now on. Forever.”
“I like... the sound of that.”
She caressed his cheek. “So do I.”
“Care to... seal that... promise with a... kiss?”
“Uh-huh.” Her lips alighted on his—tender, warm and indescribably sweet.
Deep in his chest, Manning’s heart beat strong and sure.
And whole once more.
Epilogue
Northern Virginia, Autumn 1866
“
H
OME
,”
WHISPERED
C
ADDIE
Forbes as the old buckboard rattled over the rise looking down on Sabbath Hollow. As the shadows of evening gathered, she listed slightly, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. Templeton leaned against her on the other side, fighting to keep his eyes open. Varina snuggled in Caddie’s arms, sound asleep.
When she and the children had come here in the spring, Caddie had been buoyed by a sense of relief and false optimism. She hadn’t felt the soft, enfolding happiness of true homecoming that she experienced now.
Down in the hollow, Sergeant commenced to bark as he tore up the lane toward them.
Manning chuckled. “The way that dog’s carrying on, you’d think we’d gone to California rather than a wedding in Mercer’s Corner.”
“A double wedding,” Caddie reminded her husband, trying not to sound too smug in her satisfaction.
Once Dora Gordon had overcome her deeply ingrained modesty and laid siege to Jeff Pratt’s pride, the young man had been wise enough to offer his unconditional surrender.
Instead of just witnessing the marriage of Ann and Bobbie Stevens, Jeff and Dora had also taken their vows today.
“Who do you think looked better pleased?” asked Manning as he reined in the horses. “The brides and grooms, or Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Gordon?”
He climbed down from the buckboard with stiff, awkward movements that betrayed the lingering effects of his injuries.
“I wonder if they’ll be as pleased when they hear Jeff and Bobbie mean to move the whole clan into Gordon Manor,” Caddie quipped, gently rousing Varina and helping her down from the wagon.
Caddie had worried how Jeff’s and Dora’s mothers would tolerate the Forbes family attending the wedding once the whole story of Manning’s past became common knowledge throughout the community. To her surprise, Mrs. Pratt had been quite civil, Mrs. Gordon downright gracious.
Some of the other guests had stared at first or whispered to each other when they thought Caddie wasn’t looking. Still, things must have gone better than Manning had expected, for he’d relaxed visibly as the afternoon wore on. So had Caddie after she overheard that Lon meant to sell up and resettle in Texas.
“Come along to bed, children.” She ushered Templeton and Varina into the house with Sergeant trotting along at Tem’s side. “It’s been a lovely day, but a long one. Leave the horses, Manning. I’ll see to them once I get the children settled for the night.”
She returned a short while later to find the team unharnessed, fed and watered. Manning sat on the steps to the verandah, perhaps because he was too tuckered out to go any farther.
“Did you not hear me, Manning Forbes, or did you just not listen?” An anxious tightness inside her made Caddie’s voice sharper than she’d intended. She settled onto the step beside him. “I said I’d see to the horses. Just because you’re on your feet now doesn’t mean you ought to overdo it.”
“Don’t fuss, woman.” The warmth of his tone told her he liked being fussed over. He leaned against Caddie, resting his head on her shoulder. “Doc Mercer says I’m healing just fine.”
Caddie’s tight nub of worry slowly unfurled into fragile-winged desire. With all that had happened, they hadn’t made love since she’d learned the truth about Manning. Would the knowledge change the precious passion they’d found? Poison it?
She raised her hand to stroke his hair. “Bodies mend faster than hearts and souls.”
Manning leaned into her touch. “We’ve all got a lot of healing to do, Caddie. Me, you, the children. Most everybody in this country, one way or another.”
A breeze sighed through the leaves of the dogwood bushes and the big old chestnut, as night enfolded the Virginia countryside. Overhead stars shimmered like teardrops on the face of heaven.
Slipping his sound arm around Caddie’s waist, Manning pulled her even closer to him. “We’re lucky we have the perfect tonic to restore us, here at Sabbath Hollow.”
“And what might that be?” Caddie knew, but she still wanted to hear him say it.
He tilted his face to meet hers. Just as their lips came together for a deep lingering kiss, Manning whispered the word, almost as if he was afraid to speak it any louder. “Love.”
Her head was spinning by the time they drew apart again. “Would you care to retire to bed and take a little dose of that tonic, Mr. Forbes?”
The night had grown too dark for her to see his smile, but she could feel it.
“That sounds like just what the doctor ordered, Caddie-girl.”
Dear Reader,
Ever since the summer I first immersed myself in the pages of
Gone with the Wind
, I longed to write a romance novel set during or after the American Civil War. That desire grew even stronger after I watched the Ken Burns documentary over and over and over... Finally, having sold several novels to a publisher, I was able to write that story and see it in print. Now I am delighted to share this story with readers again, with a new title and cover that I hope will appeal to romance and history-lovers even more than the originals.
Many of the ideas for my novels have come from television and films and this one is no exception. The inspiration for
In A Stranger’s Arms
came from the film,
Sommersby
, starring Richard Gere and Jodie Foster. I loved watching the gradual redemption of Jack Sommersby and the growing love between him and Laurel, the wife who began to doubt he was the same man she’d sent off to war. While the bittersweet ending worked for the film, I wanted to give those characters the
happily ever after
they deserved.
So I started my own novel about a Yankee carpetbagger and the Southern widow who wonders if he might be the husband whose reported death she never truly mourned. But as I began to write the story a funny thing happened. Caddie Marsh quickly became her own person, nothing like Laurel Sommersby. Manning Forbes grew distinct in my imagination, too, as did Caddie’s children. Even the dog became real to me!
I hope the characters of
In A Stranger’s Arms
will become real for you, too, and that you will enjoy their story of love’s healing power.
Deborah Hale
Website:
www.deborahhale.com
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www.facebook.com/AuthorDeborahHale
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Writing as Elizabeth Charles
Scandalous but True! From the harsh streets of 18th century London, Lizzie Cane rose to become the most successful and sought-after courtesan in England! Mistress of earls, dukes and even the young Prince of Wales, she lived an exciting luxurious life that was not without its perils. A single misstep could spell disaster!