Legacies (37 page)

"Alex." Sorrel darted him a worried and perplexed look. "It has somebody's name on the back of it."

"I got it from the sutler," he lied. "I guess he took it in trade for some food. The minute I saw it, I knew the perfect young lady who should be wearing it. Turn around and I'll fasten it for you."

Satisfied with his explanation, Sorrel surrendered the ends of the gold chain to him and turned, lifting the mass of long red hair off her neck so he could hook the chain. As soon as the clasp was secured, she proudly swung back to face him. "How does it look?"

"Beautiful," he replied absently, and Sorrel immediately peered down at it. The axe rang again. Alex glanced in the direction of the sound. "So what are you doing out here in the woods?"

"I was helping Deu chop and stack firewood so we'll have plenty for winter." She fingered the locket, continuing to admire it.

"Deu." Alex stiffened, his glance slashing to her face. "What's he doing here? Did something happen to your father?" He waited for the look of sorrow to leap into her expression.

"He got shot. Deu and Lije brought him home—last week, I think it was."

"He's alive?" The first current of unease skittered through him.

Sorrel nodded and heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief, smiling. "At first I was afraid he was going to die, but he's getting better. Lije helped him to stand up yesterday. Mother was furious when she saw them. She made him get right back in bed."

Cold with shock, Alex stared at the house, his mind racing in sudden panic. The bastard was alive. His shot hadn't killed him. Why hadn't he made sure The Blade was dead? He would come gunning for him now—the same as he'd come after his father. And Lije would be with him.

He had to get out of here. Alex grabbed up the reins.

"Let's go to the house, Alex." Sorrel touched the locket and tried to give off an air of poise and maturity. Inside, she felt positively heady with delight. Jewelry. No one had ever given her jewelry as a present before. It wasn't a gift for a child; it was what you gave an adult. "I want to show everybody my birthday present"

"Sorry, I have to leave." He stuck a foot in the stirrup and swung onto the mare.

"But why? You just got here," Sorrel protested.

"I know." He gave her a quick, stiff smile. "But remember I told you I just came by to drop off your present. I have to report back to the fort before dark, and I still have to ride over to my father's farm and check on things, to see whether Watie's marauders have burned the place yet."

"They wouldn't do that" Sorrel said quickly, but she knew better. Marauders had looted and burned her grandfather's house.

His mouth twisted viciously. "They'd do it in a heartbeat, Sorrel. In a heartbeat."

He touched a spur to the mare and rode off. Sorrel watched him a moment, then turned and hurried to the house. She had barely taken three steps inside the house before her mother called out, "Sorrel, you'd better not be tracking in this house with those muddy boots."

"Honestly, Mother, I am not a child anymore. I took my boots off before I came in," she declared with airy dignity, then walked over to the gilt-framed mirror to admire her locket. "Come see what Alex brought me for my birthday."

"Alex?" Temple came from the rear hall. "Is he here?"

"Not now. He had to leave." Sorrel gazed at her reflection, turned this way and that to watch the play of light across the locket's gold face. When she caught sight of Temple in the mirror, Sorrel turned and held out the locket. "See what Alex got me. Isn't it beautiful?"

"It's very beautiful," Temple agreed. "But your birthday—"

"Alex knew it wasn't my birthday yet, but he wanted to give this to me now in case he was sent somewhere else. You know how the army is." Sorrel feigned an adultlike knowledge of such things.

Lije came down the stairs. "Did I hear you say Alex was here? What did he want?"

Sorrel bristled at his tone. "He didn't
want
anything. He came to see me and give me this present." Touching the locket, she turned back to the mirror again and smiled at the sight of it around her neck.

"Why didn't Alex come to the house?" Temple wondered.

"Because he had to go check on Uncle Kipp's farm and make sure everything was all right there, then be back to the fort before nightfall." Sorrel paused as a thought occurred to her. "Although it's his farm now that Uncle Kipp is dead, isn't it?" She felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn't thought to tell Alex how sorry she was about his father.

"What did he say? Did he ask you any questions?" Lije came up behind her, his reflection joining hers in the mirror. The hostility and distrust in his voice were unmistakable.

Sorrel reacted to him with instant anger. "I hate it when you talk like that about Alex. You don't like him. You've never liked him, but I do. Why can't you leave him alone?"

"Sorrel," Temple murmured in reproval.

She turned on her. "But it isn't fair. Alex came to bring me this locket, and I was so happy—and now, he's ruined it!" She ran off in tears.

Lije watched her, a troubled frown furrowing his brow. Maybe Alex's visit was as innocent as she said. Maybe.

 

 

 

24

 

 

"Miss Temple. Miss Temple." Phoebe hurried into the bedroom, struggling to catch her breath after running up the back stairs. "Yankee soldiers— they're marching up the lane."
 

"Is Lije back?"

"No," she said, still breathing hard. "He must still be off hunting."

"Got to get . . . out of here." Still half-drugged by the morphia Temple had given him hours ago, The Blade tried to raise up on an elbow. But the combination of pain and weakness defeated the attempt. He collapsed onto the mattress, blanching nearly white, his face twisting in agony. "Can't . . . let them find . . . me."

"You're not going anywhere until we get this bandage tied. Finish it for me, Eliza." Temple went to the window to look for herself.

"The Blade's right, Temple. We have to get him out of the house."

"It's too late. They're almost here now." Temple stared at the column of Negro infantry, led by a trio of mounted white officers. "We could never get him out without being seen. We'll have to hide him." She swung away from the window and scanned the room. "Under the bed. It is so obvious, maybe they won't think of looking there."

"We don't know why they are coming here, Temple. We don't know that they will search the house," Eliza reasoned.

"We can't chance it. You and Phoebe get him under the bed. I'll go downstairs and . . . greet them." Stall them was what she really meant.

Maybe Eliza was right. Maybe it was only a guilty conscience that made her think the soldiers were here to look for The Blade. Maybe it was only some sort of courtesy call. But she was afraid to believe that.

Outside, Temple stood directly between the veranda's two massive Doric columns. As the officer at the head of the small party drew nearer, Temple fixed what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her lips. Suddenly, she couldn't believe her eyes. Her smile was no longer forced.

"Jed." She ran to meet him, not even waiting until he had halted his horse. She caught the bridle and held the animal's head as Jed Parmelee dismounted, his left arm making a bunch beneath his uniform jacket, its empty sleeve pinned up. "This is a surprise . . . a wonderful surprise. I don't have to ask how you have been. I can see for myself that you are doing well."

"And I can say the same about you, Temple." He took her hand and raised it to his lips, bowing slightly.

"You did that the first time we met in Washington." Temple smiled at him, and at the memory. "I remember I thought you were so gallant . . . and handsome." She admitted the latter with a certain coyness, feeling briefly young and flirtatious.

"And I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen," he replied, quite seriously. "You still are."

She released a soft, throaty laugh. "What a shame there isn't a band nearby so you can teach me the waltz again."

"And your husband, too, so he could glare at me while we dance."

"Yes." The blue of Jed's uniform suddenly registered, and Temple felt a wariness creep through her.

Deliberately, she glanced away from the house, as if The Blade was somewhere out there in the countryside instead of hidden away upstairs. She turned back, conscious that Jed watched her closely, and she wasn't sure why.

"You must be thirsty from your ride. Your men, too. Phoebe!" She called over her shoulder for the black maid, then said to Jed, "She can show your men where the well is. You come inside with me." Temple tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, hoping that she wasn't inviting the fox into the chicken coop. "You can stay for dinner, can't you? Phoebe is fixing dessert, dumplings swimming in blueberry juice." She chattered away, trying to fill the silence as she walked him to the veranda. "Eliza will be so happy to see you—"

"Temple." Jed stopped short of the front door. "This is not a social visit."

Her heart was thumping loudly when she faced him. "You are here on army business?" It took every bit of her control to meet his gaze with a degree of curiosity.

His hesitation seemed to confirm her fear, but she wouldn't let it show, instead widening her eyes and feigning innocence.

"The army has received certain information that leads us to believe your husband, a major in the Confederate army, is here."

"What?" Temple drew back from him. It wasn't difficult at all to pretend to be shocked and alarmed. "That isn't true."

"Then"—Jed paused, his glance flicking briefly past her— "perhaps you could explain why Deu is here. We both know your husband never goes anywhere without him."

"Deu?" Temple looked back and saw him standing only a few feet away. For an instant their eyes locked, sharing the same feeling of panic and regret. It had never occurred to her that Deu's presence would give away The Blade. "The Blade sent him here to help me," she lied quickly, desperately. "He knows how difficult it has been for us—"

"It's no use, Temple. I have orders to search the house and grounds. . . . I'm sorry."

She tilted her chin a little higher. "If those are your orders, Major, then, by all means, search the house. But you won't find my husband. He is not here."

When Jed turned to signal his men, Temple fled into the house, needing these few precious seconds to stop her mad shaking. She couldn't let Jed suspect how frightened she was about his search. As long as he had a doubt in his mind, he might not be thorough—she might be able to distract him.

Hearing footsteps, Temple turned. Eliza and Phoebe came down the stairs as Susannah entered the foyer from the hall. Sorrel was right behind her, dark eyes bright and questioning. "Why are the soldiers here, Mama?"

"What do they want?" Eliza echoed.

"They know he's here." Temple moved quickly to the base of the stairs.

Startled, Susannah murmured, "How?"

"I think someone recognized Deu, I—" The instant the front door opened behind her, Temple hurriedly changed what she was about to say. "I said that he wasn't here of course. But Jed explained that he was obliged to search the house just the same." The house echoed with the tramping of dozens of feet. Momentarily, she glanced at the black soldiers pouring into the house, then focused on Jed. "If there must be a search, I am relieved you are conducting it, Jed. I know you will not allow your soldiers to tear my home apart. There is so much ransacking and looting going on—on both sides."

"They have their orders" was all he said, but she could tell by the way he avoided meeting her eyes that he was uncomfortable with his mission. It gave her hope.

Eliza gasped. "Shadrach." She swept past Temple to go to the slender black soldier standing in the foyer with the rest. Lowering his rifle, Shadrach smiled back and removed his forage cap, revealing the quantity of gray that now silvered his curly dark hair.

"Miss Eliza."

"It is so good to see you again," she declared. "You look splendid in your uniform, Shadrach."
 

"You are looking well, too."
 

"I know."

Ike, who stood a few feet from the grand staircase, paid no attention to the conversation between Shadrach and his former mistress. His eyes were on his mother. She stood rooted to the stairs. There had been joy in her eyes when she first saw him. But it had too quickly dissolved into dismay when her glance flickered to the blue uniforms of the soldiers surrounding him.

In many ways, her reaction was the same as his father's had been when Deu saw him outside a minute ago—an initial happiness, followed almost instantly by an expression of hurt and silent accusation. And in both their faces, there was fear.

The Blade was here. Ike could see it in their eyes. They had hidden him somewhere. Now they looked at him like he was the enemy . . . like he had turned against them. They weren't going to talk to him; they weren't even going to ask how he was; they weren't going to give him a chance to explain that he hadn't known they were coming to Grand View until after they had marched out of the fort.

Yes, he knew every nook and hidey-hole in this house, every floorboard that squeaked and every hinge that groaned. But couldn't they see that he was only following orders? Why did they have to make him feel guilty about being here?

Then the white lieutenant began barking orders, his sharp voice snapping Ike to attention. The men were divided into squads of three and assigned a given area of the house to search systematically. Ike was relieved when he and his two partners were sent to the second floor. There were few hiding places in the upstairs rooms and even fewer capable of concealing an adult. They must have hidden The Blade in the basement storeroom, or in that old root cellar near the double log cabin. He was certain, that is, until he saw the almost panicked look on his mother's face and the way her eyes pleaded with him.

Ike felt sick inside. The Blade was upstairs. He knew it as surely as if she had come right out and said so. He started up the steps, his feet dragging as if they were bound with shackle and chain. He reminded himself that he was a soldier in the Union army. He was doing his duty. But he wished his momma wouldn't look at him like that.