Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) (12 page)

Time passed as both sides battled for control of the bridge. Adam was not aware that he fought at the head of his men and was an inspiration for them. He was aware of nothing but gaining control of the bridge. It had become the main focal point of his life. He would either regain the bridge or die in the attempt. He had no thought for his safety. He was like a man possessed.

It was late afternoon when the few remaining enemy retreated in defeat. Adam stood in the middle of the bridge. His face was streaked with blood and grime. He grasped the wooden railing that ran the length of the bridge and looked down at the river below. He closed his eyes as he saw that the river was running red with blood, and he gave an involuntary shudder.

His men stood silently waiting for an order from him. One of the men stepped forward. "We did it, sir. We helt the bridge."

Adam had a feeling he was going to be sick. "Damned right we helt the bridge," he said wearily.

"Are you all right, sir?"

Adam looked at his hands that were covered with blood and said in a voice filled with wonder, "I was not even scratched."

8

Honor's son was three weeks old. She hugged the soft body close to her, feeling mother love for the tiny infant. He had blond hair and gray eyes like Jordan. She had decided to call him Aaron.

Cradling him in her arms, she kissed his cheek softly. Handing her sleeping baby to Darcy, she threw back the covers and stood up. She was feeling well and strong, and in need of fresh air.

Honor was aware of the courtesy shown to her by the troops camped out in her front yard. They had been unusually quiet, not wanting to disturb her or her baby.

Honor looked at herself in the mirror. Her figure was slim, with soft curves. Her silver-colored hair fell down her back to her hips. Her green eyes sparkled with health. Was that stranger in the mirror really her? Could she be beautiful?

Darcy had returned after placing little Aaron in the nursery. She helped Honor into the bath that had been prepared for her, and later laced her into her stays. Honor pulled the big bell-shaped crinoline over her head and slipped into a bright green gown.

Standing before the mirror once more, she was startled by her changed appearance. She was beautiful.

Picking up her brush, Honor ran it through her curly silver hair.

"You are as pretty as a speckled pup," Darcy told her.

Honor wondered if Major O'Roarke would think so. Then she scolded herself. She was a married woman. Why did she think so often of the major? Darcy had told her that Major O'Roarke had gone away, along with Sergeant Simpson and most of the soldiers. She wondered how long he would be away, and found herself listening for his return.

Honor walked out the front door and across the veranda toward the apple orchard. The weather had grown cooler, but it was still warm enough to enjoy being outside.

Some of the soldiers waved to her from a distance, and she smiled and waved to them in return. It was hard to think of them as the enemy now, when they had been so nice to her. While she had been recuperating from the birth of her son, Honor had received little gifts brought to her by Sergeant Simpson. Some of the men had made a wooden cradle for Aaron, and others had sent flowers and other little trinkets, and she treasured their thoughtfulness.

When she came to the apple orchard, Honor paused by the rail fence. The apples had all been gathered, and the leaves had begun to change colors and were falling from the trees. Reaching over her head, she pulled a bright red leaf and held it in her hand.

"I am pleased to see you up and about, Mrs. Daniels."

Honor recognized the major's voice, and turned to see him sitting under one of the trees, his back resting against the tree trunk, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

"I did not know you had returned, major." Her heart raced at the sight of him.

"I got in late last night. You must have been asleep."

"Where did you go?" she asked curiously.

He rose to his feet and towered over her. "You do not really want to know."

"Was there fighting?" she wanted to know, thinking he looked tired, as if he had not slept.

"Yes, there was fighting."

All of a sudden, fear gripped her. Suppose he had been wounded or killed. She could not bear the thought of his being in danger.

"I am glad you have returned safely."

He let his eyes wander over her, thinking she was even more beautiful now that the baby had been born.

"How is little Aaron?"

"He is delightful."

"Does he look like you?"

"No, I believe he looks more like Jordan."

They were both making small talk, neither willing to admit the strong feeling that was beginning to develop between them.

"I have given permission for your mother- and father-in-law to visit you tomorrow morning."

"Are you not afraid I will give away your secrets?"

"After last night there is no longer any need for secrecy."

"The fighting you were involved in concerned the bridge?"

"Yes."

"I see. I do not want to hear about it."

"I would not tell you even if you asked."

"The fact that you are still here is proof that you must have won."

His face grew stormy. "Dammit, what price do you place on a bridge?"

"I set no value on a bridge, major. I leave it to men like yourself to weigh its importance."

"Is it worth the price of Sergeant Simpson's life?"

Honor placed her hand to her throat. "Oh, no, please say that it is not true. He cannot be dead."

"He is very dead. Oh, God, it was awful." Adam swallowed hard.

Honor did not know how it happened, but suddenly there was no fence between them and she was holding him in her arms, giving him comfort. She could feel his broad shoulders sag as she pulled his head down to rest on her shoulder. "I am so sorry," she said as tears fell down her face. "I liked him very much. He was a good man."

She felt Adam's arms tighten around her as he pulled her against him. She felt his lips on her face. "I can almost shut out all of the ugliness when you are in my arms," he whispered in an agonized voice.

Honor felt her body begin to tremble as his hands spanned her waist. "Help me forget, Honor. I need you."

Feeling the danger to herself, she pulled away from him. "Major O'Roarke, are you forgetting I am a married woman? It is wrong for you to say these things to me." She knew she was just mouthing words so she could bring herself under control.

"Damn right I am aware that you are married. You do not think I could forget for one moment that you belong to another man, do you?"

"I do not know what you want me to say."

"There is nothing left to say, is there?" He turned and walked away from her without a backward glance.

Honor sat down beside the fence and buried her head in her hands. She cried for Sergeant Simpson, and she cried for herself. She knew now that the love she had felt for Jordan had been a young girl's fantasy, one she would have outgrown in time. But the feelings she had for Adam O'Roarke were those a woman felt for the man she would always love.

* * *

Adam sat at the desk trying to concentrate on his paperwork, but it was useless. Finally he shoved it aside and leaned back in the chair. His eyes moved over the room and rested on a portrait on one of the bookshelves. It had not been there previously. Darcy had brought it in earlier, saying the frame had been damaged, and she had found one to replace it in the attic.

Adam had paid little attention to it at the time, but now he rose and walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the painting.

He recognized Honor immediately. She had been a lovely child. The artist had captured the innocence in her face. The redheaded girl in the portrait stared out at him with bold eyes. Her sister, Meagan. She was beautiful, but Adam had seen many women with her look, and it held no fascination for him.

He traced the profile of Honor's face with his finger. He, Adam O'Roarke, was in love. He loved her so deeply it was almost painful. He was a man who had had many women, and some of them had loved him, but he had never given his heart before. Why should he lose his heart now, and to a married woman . . . a child.

He wanted her as a woman, but he also wanted much more from her. He wanted to share the rest of his life with her. It did not seem that Honor loved her husband, and there was definitely something wrong between them.

"Oh, God, I love you, Honor, and I need you."

He had known her such a short time, but that did not matter, for he had lost his heart to her the very moment he had caught her in his arms to keep her from falling down the stairs.

* * *

The next morning the Daniels arrived. Adam insisted that the meeting take place in his presence. He noted the open affection Honor had for the older Daniels, and they seemed to love her in return. He watched how Maggie Daniels fussed over her new grandson while swearing he was the picture of her son Jordan. Adam could not understand how anyone could say a newborn baby looked like anyone —to him all babies looked alike.

He knew the older Daniels suffered his presence with ill grace. They ignored him, for the most part. Every so often Adam would be graced with a none-too-friendly glance, but it did not bother him overmuch.

Mr. Daniels became indignant when Adam told him they could not leave the room, and Mrs. Daniels called him a Yankee intruder, which only served to amuse him.

Adam tried to ignore them as he sat at his desk working on his unfinished report. He had been trying to write a letter to Simpson's wife and sons, but could not find the words to say.

"Are you treated well, Honor?" he heard Mrs. Daniels ask.

Honor smiled and took her mother-in-law's hand. "I can assure you I have been shown every courtesy."

"Have you heard from Jordan?" her father-in-law asked.

"No, I have heard nothing since he left."

"My dear, you must not think he still cares for Meagan. I am sure he cares for you a great deal," Mrs. Daniels told her.

Adam's eyes narrowed as Honor lowered her head. "Have you heard from Jordan, Maggie?" she asked, feeling crushed that Adam would have overheard her mother-in-law's remark about Jordan and Meagan.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I brought the letter with me, knowing you would want to hear it." Maggie removed her spectacles from her drawstring bag and began to read:

Dearest Mother and Father,

I do not know if this letter will reach you. Not knowing if you are receiving my letters or not, I still continue to write, hoping some of them may reach you. I am well and hoping you are the same.

I will be glad when this war is ended so I can return home. My unit was involved in a skirmish outside Vicksburg. I will not tell you any of the details, except to say we won. I must close now; they are calling for all letters.

Your loving son,

Jordan

P.S.  Give my Regards to Honor and tell her to remember what I told her.

Honor closed her eyes. She was still only an afterthought to Jordan. She who had borne him a son was a postscript at the bottom of the letter he had written his parents.

Adam watched her face. What kind of a man was this Jordan Daniels that he would write his parents and ignore his lovely wife? Adam knew that Honor's sister Meagan was somehow involved in Honor's feelings for her husband. How could a man prefer the sister when he was married to Honor? Adam was still puzzling over the answer when the Daniels left for Green Rivers. Mr. and Mrs. Daniels both left in a huff because Adam would not allow Honor to accompany them to Green Rivers.

He knew he could easily let Honor visit her in-laws, but he knew he only had a few days left before he would be called away, and he wanted to be near her as long as possible.

* * *

A week passed and Honor herself could feel that there was something that had changed in Adam's treatment of her. She would catch him watching her with a strange look on his face, and the last few days he had seemed to avoid her.

She sat on the veranda watching the sun set behind the mountains. There was a chill in the air, and she knew it would not be long until the first snow fell.

Honor had just decided to return to the warmth of the house when she saw Adam walking toward her from across the driveway. She waited as he climbed the steps and stood beside her.

"I am glad for this chance to speak to you, Mrs. Daniels. I wanted to tell you that I will be leaving in the morning before daybreak."

"The men are not breaking camp. You will be back, will you not?" she asked, fearing what his answer would be.

"No. My orders are sending me to Washington. My men will follow tomorrow afternoon."

Her mind was screaming that he could not just ride out of her life and never return. She willed herself not to cry, to act normal when her heart was breaking. "I will pray for your safety, major," she said in a choked voice.

He looked at her through veiled eyelashes. "Will you?"

"Yes, every night."

Adam was aware that his men were watching, so he could not say the things to her that were in his heart.

"I have had my men lay in a store of hay for your livestock, and I have given orders that your grounds are to be cleaned. No trace of the camp will remain."

"I thank you, major. Could I ask a favor of you?"

"Any favor you would ask me, I will grant, Mrs. Daniels."

"I have written a letter to Sergeant Simpson's family. Will you see that it is sent on to them?"

He loved her more in that moment than he had ever dreamed possible. "I will handle it personally, and I thank you on behalf of his wife and sons."

She offered him her hand. "Good-bye, then, major."

Taking her hand, he looked into her eyes. "Oh, God, I hate this, Honor."

Pulling her hand away, she turned and rushed into the house. When she reached her room, she threw herself down on the bed and cried until she was exhausted. How she loved him; she would miss him for the rest of her life.