Midnight Rose (55 page)

She let the clutching, clawing fingers of oblivion take her away.

Eager hands were waiting to help them from the river, as a crowd gathered in response to the noise and fire.

Once ashore, however, Ryan would not let anyone keep him from Erin, and he knelt to gather her in his arms and cover her face with kisses as he fervently, feverishly whispered, “Hear me, my darling. It wasn’t my doing. Any of it. I swear to you.”

Erin’s eyes fluttered open, and she could see the truth on his face in the glow of the burning ship beyond.

He saw the tenderness in her gaze and dared hope she did believe. “You saved my life.” He offered a grateful smile. “That’s got to mean you care a little.”

Her ankle hurt, and she was sore and bruised from hitting the water, but still managed a soft laugh, could reach up to twine her arms about his neck. “I forgot to hate you when I remembered I love you.”

“And only God knows how much I love you, Erin, and always will.”

“The rainbow—it’s there, smiling in the sky,” she whispered, just before his lips claimed hers.

He did not know her meaning. There would be time later to understand.

As he held her and kissed her, a gentle breeze wafted, mysteriously delivering upon them a victorious red rose.

About the Author

Patricia Hagan might be the New York Times bestselling author of 38 novels and 2500 short stories, but she can also lay claim to being among the vanguard of women writers covering NASCAR stock-car racing. The first woman granted garage passes to major speedways, she has awards in TV commentary, newspaper and magazine articles, and for several years wrote and produced a twice-weekly racing program heard on 42 radio stations in the south.

Patricia’s books have been translated into many languages, and she has made promotional trips to Europe, including England, France, Italy, Norway, Greece, Turkey, Croatia, Spain and Ireland.

Hagan’s exciting eight-book Coltrane saga, which spans from the Civil War to the Russian Revolution, has appeared on every major bestseller list and is one of the most popular series published in France, never having been out-of-print in that country in nearly 30 years.

Born in Atlanta, Georgia, Patricia grew up all across the United States due to her father’s position as a federal attorney, finally settling in Alabama where she graduated from the University of Alabama with a major in English. She now resides with her husband in south Florida where she volunteers as a Court-appointed Guardian Ad Litem for abused children.

But of all her accolades and accomplishments, Patricia most of all loves to boast of being the proud mom of a Navy SEAL.

Look for these titles by Patricia Hagan

Now Available:

Souls Aflame

Passion’s Fury

This Savage Heart

Golden Roses

The Coltrane Saga

Love and War

The Raging Hearts

Love and Glory

Love and Fury

Love and Splendor

Love and Dreams

Love and Honor

Love and Triumph

Coming Soon:

Heaven in a Wildflower

Ocean of Dreams

A Touch of Love

She found love in the arms of the enemy!

Love’s Wine

© 2012 Patricia Hagan

Holly Maxwell despised the Yankees that had ravaged her home, leaving her beloved Magnolia Hall in charred ruins. Then, in the arms of a passionate stranger, Holly dared to think she might have found her true love—till she discovers that Scott Coulter is actually the new Commander of the occupying Federal Army.

Hurt, humiliated, and reeling from the betrayal, Holly is at the mercy of her ruthless stepbrother, who is more than happy to use her to further his evil schemes. But Holly is determined to persevere—she’ll stop at nothing to regain her family land…and reclaim her heart from the man who she can never forget.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Love’s Wine:

The sound of wagon wheels churning against dry earth brought Holly’s attention back to the window again. She saw her mother approaching in Grandpa’s old buckboard, the lazy old mule pulling. How happy she looks, Holly reflected resentfully. How happy and pleased with things. Her mother had declared the war over. The wounds should be allowed to heal, she declared. Everyone had to work together and rebuild. And that, Holly thought bitterly, meant cozying up to the damn Yankee carpetbaggers swarming all over Mississippi and the rest of the South like buzzards on a carcass.

The Yankees, her mother said, were no longer enemies. Now they were “sentinels,” trying to restore the glorious union.

Hogwash, Holly told herself as she watched her mother draw the mule to a stop and alight to the ground with a youthful spring. She was a beautiful woman, with limpid hazel eyes and milk-white skin.

Claudia began to call to her as she picked her way carefully up the crumbling steps. “Holly? Where are you, dear? I know you’re in here. Heaven knows, you hang around this depressing place every day. I don’t want to have to look for you.” She poked her head through the archway to the parlor, eyes narrowing as her gaze adjusted to the shadowed light. “There you are. Really, Holly, it just isn’t healthy for you to pine away here. I know it isn’t pleasant at the shack, dear, but—”

“It is
very
pleasant at the shack,” Holly interrupted coldly. “I love it there. It makes me feel close to Grandpa. I come here because I never want to forget what they did to him, to all of us.” She turned away, washed once more with the fury and rage that had become her vital force.

Claudia sighed. “I have good news. Two bits of good news, in fact. First, I think I’ve finally worked it out for us to move to Vicksburg.”

Warily, Holly turned to face her.

Claudia ignored the storminess of her cinnamon eyes and hastened on. “Ben Cunningham came to see me this afternoon. Bless his heart, he’s been through so much, coming home from the war with one leg gone, finding Twyla was dead. He’s tried to pick up the pieces, and he just can’t. Goodness, he’s got those small children to look after, and—”

“What does all of this have to do with us?” Holly asked impatiently. Her mother was very nervous about something.

Claudia walked into the room, pressing her hands tightly against her bosom. “Ben brought me word from his sister, Abby, in Vicksburg. She’s all alone in that big house. You did know she lost her husband toward the end of the war? She says we’re welcome to come and stay with her as long as we want, till we decide what we want to do.”

Holly’s lips tightened. She had no intention of moving and said so. “I know what
I
want to do, Mother, and I intend to do it. I’m going to stay here and rebuild Magnolia Hall. Maybe you can walk away and not look back, but I can’t. I owe it to Papa and Grandpa…and myself.” She turned to the window once more. “I promised Grandpa I’d never give up his land, and I won’t.”

Claudia hurried forward and held Holly by the shoulders. “Believe me, Holly darling, I know how you feel, but we’ve got to go forward. We can’t cling to the past. There’s nothing for us here. How can two helpless women keep this land going? We can’t even pay the taxes, so in a few more days this land won’t even be ours anymore.”

Adamantly, Holly said, “I’ll find a way. There’s the silver we buried, and the jewelry. We can sell it to pay the taxes.” The odd silence that followed caused Holly to turn slowly to her mother, who couldn’t face her. “You sold it, didn’t you?” she whispered. She gestured helplessly to the stylish gray velvet riding dress Claudia was wearing. “I should have known. The way you’ve been dressing lately. Oh, why didn’t I realize? You’ve sold our things, haven’t you?”

Claudia turned away and began to pick absently at the shreds of peach satin that clung to the wall. “I had no choice, Holly. It isn’t just the clothes—though heaven knows, we’ve been in rags. We had no food. I didn’t get much, anyway. The Yankees have money to buy all the silver they want, and the Southerners need food, not silver, on the table. But the jewelry…I can’t part with that. It’s all I have left that your father gave me.”

“What clothes, Mother? And what food? I’ve caught fish, trapped squirrels and rabbits. Last week I shot a deer. We haven’t starved.”

Claudia whispered hoarsely, “We both need clothes, Holly, so we can return to a decent life. I ordered gowns made for us both. They’re being made at the dressmaker’s, and that’s the other good news I have for you. We must move to Vicksburg at once.” Her voice rose with renewed confidence. “Jarvis Bonham has finally invited us to one of his fancy parties. I was in Vicksburg today at the dressmaker’s, and then I had tea at the hotel with Ben’s sister. He was there—Jarvis, that is—and we talked.” She reached for Holly’s stiff hands, ignoring her daughter’s cringing reaction, the marble coldness of her skin. “Jarvis is such a wonderful man, Holly,” she gushed. “He’s doing so much to help build things up again. Why, already he’s got a large lumber mill going. He’s providing jobs for so many people. I know you’ll like him, if you’ll just meet him and give him a chance.”

Holly was struggling to restrain her temper. This was, after all, her mother, and she loved and respected her. No matter that she was weak, and, yes, selfish. No matter that Claudia was the daughter of a dirt-poor sharecropper and had used her beauty to marry into one of the richest and most prominent families in all of Mississippi. Maybe she had married her father for his money and social position, but she had loved him later and made him happy, Holly knew that. She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything she shouldn’t say.

“How is it you know Mr. Bonham so well?” she asked.

Claudia averted her gaze, then forced a nervous smile. “I…I do go into town a good bit, dear. You know how I hate that wretched shack. I have tea with old friends, and…and…they tell me things. I’m told Mr. Bonham is becoming the social leader of Vicksburg.”

“How did you meet him?”

Claudia’s answer was quick, almost defensive. “I went to a tea one afternoon and he was there. I liked him. He’s quite charming.”

Instinctively, Holly knew it was more than that. It had been two years since Papa’s death. It was only natural that her mother would be thinking about her future, the company of men. “He’s a widower?”

Claudia nodded. “A fever. Some years ago.”

“Children?”

“A son. Several years older than you.” She stared at Holly, desperate for some morsel of understanding, and cried, “Oh, Holly darling, please understand. I’ve been so lonely. It’s been a terrible time. I don’t want to wither away out here in squalor and poverty. Don’t condemn me.”

Holly saw a glimmer of tears in her mother’s eyes and felt a true sympathy for her misery. “I don’t condemn you, Mother. I want you to be happy. It’s just that I can’t forget as easily as you can. Or forgive. I won’t interfere with your life if you show me the same respect.”

Claudia brightened. “Oh, I will,” she said, “but if you’d just come to the party, Holly, and give yourself a chance to meet new people, you’d make me so happy. I’m having a gorgeous gown made for you. Green satin. It will be so lovely with your hair.”

Holly shook her head. She did not want to go.

Claudia persisted. “Jarvis is having the party to welcome the new officer assigned to command the Reconstruction army. It can be sort of a debut for you into Vicksburg society. Please?”

Holly hated the desperation in her mother’s eyes. “I have no interest in meeting men, particularly Yankees. I’ve heard of Jarvis Bonham. He’s a carpetbagger. He came to Mississippi like a vulture after carrion, taking advantage of the starving. You do what you feel is right for you, Mother, and give me the same privilege, please.”

Claudia shook her head fiercely. “I won’t let you have that opinion of Jarvis. It isn’t fair. He didn’t come here to get wealthy. He’s wealthy already from his many businesses. He wants to be my friend…our friend. He’s brought money
to
the South, not taken it out.” She paused, pushed a strand of hair back from her face, and gathered a little more nerve. “Very well. Perhaps it’s best I tell you now. Jarvis is buying Magnolia Hall for the taxes owed on it—taxes we can’t pay. He’s going to rebuild it, create a house even more magnificent than the original. He understands how much it means to me to know I won’t be losing my home to a stranger. Why, he’s even agreed to pay me a small sum so I won’t feel that I’ve lost everything.”

Holly saw the hope in her mother’s eyes and knew Claudia was begging for understanding, but she couldn’t stand any more. “Mother, you can’t let him take our home. He’s nothing but a dirty, greedy carpetbagger!”

“I have no choice. What else can I do? You should be grateful to Jarvis. He doesn’t have to give me anything. All he has to do is pay the taxes and he can take over the title to this property. There is
nothing
I can do about it.”

Holly trembled with her rage. “He’s not taking Grandpa’s place! It’s mine! Grandpa left it to me. I promised him I’d never give it up, and I won’t. Maybe I can’t do anything about this place, but I’ll fight with everything I’ve got to keep what’s rightfully mine.”