Romancing the Rogue (210 page)

Grayson further discussed Matthew’s lodgings and the plans he had made in regards to my sister. It felt strange to not be the deciding voice in Rachel’s life, but with her married and widowed, her husband’s family now controlled her well-being. I wasn’t sure I liked it
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but who was I to say anything?

Our meal was rushed and ill-prepared but there was little purpose in saying anything. I had certainly had worse, and the meal was the last thing on anyone’s mind, including mine. I once again wondered what Rachel was doing, whether she was okay. My mind couldn’t grasp all she must be facing and I was partially glad for Matthew’s arrival to support her in such a time.

After the meal we walked back to the hotel, Matthew having found lodgings there on the floor below us. The day had started off on the cool side but temperatures had risen to temperate warmth that was quite comfortable. We joined the two dozen or so hotel patrons on the large front porch. The men discussed the surrender, Matthew and Grayson included, while the few women and myself discussed the men and the hope that it was finally over. Amelia found some young girls near her own age and they spent the time laughing and giggling over the boys nearby.

It was a pleasant gathering. Someone produced a fiddle and a mournful resonance soon ensued. Matthew surprised me by pulling a harmonica from his pocket and joining in on the melody. He played with such skill. Someone soon began to sing the words lightly and others joined in
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Grayson included. His voice was deep and rich and carried the melody far better than anyone else.

I was content to sit on the step, my back resting against the wooden rail. I wanted to forget what tomorrow’s train would bring, wanted to pretend that this was just a gathering of neighbors to celebrate the spring and summer months.

The impromptu party broke up just about the nine o’clock hour’s end. Amelia’s shoulders drooped, but at least she had forgotten her grief for a few hours. It was time the child went to bed, for tomorrow would bring with it our other sister. I sent her on up to the room, cautioning her to keep the door locked until Grayson and I joined her.

Grayson went to the stables behind the inn to check on the horses. I went with him; I wasn’t ready to return to that small room. I didn’t want to go to sleep, dreading what the dawn would bring.

He remained quiet as we entered the building that housed the horses. It was filled to the brim, every stall having some nag or another peering out the side at us as we walked by. Our mounts were near the back of the structure. General held court in the largest stall at the end, with Fran and Sally beside and across from him. They whickered at us, greeting us happily. I ran my hands over my mount and her sister, not looking at the man and his own beast.

“You doing alright?” He asked and for a moment I assumed it was the horse he was addressing. When I realized his question was directed at me, I paused and looked at him.

“I think so.”

“Your sister’ll be fine. She’ll have her family and the boy’s to get her through. Tough losing’ him that way, but she’ll pull through.”

I hadn’t been thinking of Rachel, but of us. I didn’t know which way to go anymore. Everything was so confused, so twisted, and I had no picture of my own place in things. How could I explain this to him? Would he even understand?

“I’m afraid.” I hadn’t intended the words to come out just then. I wrapped my arms around Fran’s neck, burying my face in her coat.

“Of what?” He pulled me from the horse’s side, turning me into his arms. He was so tall, his chin clearing the top of my head easily.

“Everything.” How did I express my nameless fears? I didn’t even know myself.

“Well, can you be more specific? Maybe I can help,” His tone held a small trace of laughter and I pulled back, tilting my head up to search his eyes. Nothing showed on his face, save a sweet compassion.

“What’s going to become of us? I mean, now that the fighting is over, my father’s dead, Gideon’s dead. You’re certainly under no obligation to help us, I
hate this.
I hate being so dependent on others, on men! Why can’t I just take my sisters and go
home?
Back to Maryland. I was born there, Rachel was born there, Amelia. John is buried there, my mother is buried there. And we are
here!
All because of some stupid war!” My voice had risen and the horses were starting to react. Grayson hurriedly pulled me out the back door into a small yard, which was empty. I couldn’t stop, just continued. “Now we have
nothing!
My sister is arriving tomorrow with the body of her dead husband, my other sister may be snatched by my uncle, and I...
and I...
I don’t know what will happen to me...
All because of this stupid, this
damned
war...
we have nothing...”

“Oh, Liv. I know it doesn’t seem so, but you’ll be fine.” His whispered words did little to console me. I marched away from him, rounding the corner of the hotel. I could hear him following behind me, but I didn’t want empty platitudes, false reassurances. Especially not from him.

Ever since finding the man, my life had been filled with nothing but uncertainty. I knew it wasn’t entirely fair of me to put all the blame at his feet
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but right then I didn’t care. “Will we? Can we go back to the way things were? Back in Maryland? Every day I did my chores, went to school, took care of Amelia. I didn’t have to wait hand and foot on my aunt and uncle then, didn’t have to watch their children get new clothes every season, while my own sisters went without! All because of this damned war...
Why can’t we just go home?” I cried then, for Rachel, for myself, for Maryland, my father, my brother
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all I had lost.

He rocked me, held me, and whispered into my hair. I didn’t hear what he said, didn’t care. I pulled from his arms, not wanting his touch. He was just a symbol of all I had lost. He was the men my father had fought, the men who had driven my sisters and me from our home, he was all of those things in that moment, and I
hated
him, too. “Don’t touch me now. I don’t want you to touch me ever again!”

He stepped back and I glanced at him again. My tears were no hindrance to my seeing the hurt on his face. Remorse flooded my chest and I started toward him, wanting to beg his forgiveness.

Pride stopped me though, and I watched as he turned from me and started back toward the hotel’s door. I followed, not speaking, not knowing how to apologize for my hasty outburst. I didn’t know what had driven me to say such a thing to him, not after all he had done for me. “Beg your pardon! I didn’t mean that as it sounded! I’m just...I’m just...
I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

I grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him to a stop. He continued walking, but his pace did slow enough for me to match. “Grayson, please.”

“Please what? Please don’t touch you? Not a problem, if that’s what you want.” His voice still held a tinge of hurt and my heart tightened. “Didn’t know my touch was so offensive.”

“It’s not! I didn’t mean it that way! I mean, I like it when you touch me!” It occurred to me then what I had said, and I stopped walking, still grasping his sleeve. A man passing on the street must have heard me too, for he chuckled at Grayson and said a quick
lucky you
as he passed. I was thankful it was dark and that Grayson and the man couldn’t see the flames licking my cheeks.

“Glad to know.” Grayson laughed as he said the words, pulling me against his chest. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me right there in front of the hotel’s entrance before setting me aside. “Because if you want me to touch you again
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you’re going to have to ask.”

That evening brought with it a whole host of problems. Awkwardness filled me every time I looked at the man. Me touch him? Me ask him to touch me? I knew I couldn’t do it. We settled into our pallets on the hard floor, me being careful to keep a good dozen inches between our bodies. Amelia was long asleep, curled on the mattress above us, a slight snore emanating from her mouth.

“Livy.”

At his whisper I turned to face him. Enough light passed through the window that I could see the outline of his eyes, his mouth. “Yes?”

“You want me to touch you yet?” He flashed a smile at me, the dim light turning it nearly blue, before turning to face away from me.

I lay there with my mouth open for several moments before I could reason what the man had said. He was teasing me, of that I was sure. The only question was what would my reaction be? I thought for a moment. “No thank you. Good night.”

I kept my voice coolly polite, the same tone I would have used if we had met at church social and he asked me to go for a walk with him. I snuggled into my lone pillow, a smile on my lips as I heard his beleaguered sigh.

I awoke later to find myself on his side of the blankets, draped across his chest. The night had turned cold and he emanated comforting warmth. He was on his back, his own blanket near around his waist. He snored softly and I grinned. It was such a masculine sound. His arm was hooked around my own waist, keeping me against him.

So much for my having to ask for him to touch me. I gingerly removed his arm, and rose to close the window.

A sound wafted up from the street and I looked down, trying to identify its producer. Matthew Lofton sat below our window, playing his harmonica, a long mournful tune.

As I lay back down, his mournful sounds flooded my heart and my tears wetted my pillow. It was a long time before I fell asleep.

I awoke the next morning early, my thoughts filled with pictures of Rachel and what I imagined the last few days had held for her. She had been so happy that day in Jessup’s barn so few days ago. And now this.

Here I thought I was confused and would never be right again, but what must my sister be feeling? Grayson was done up and gone, and I woke Amelia and we began to dress.

I held within me a new resolve, one I had arrived at as I listened to Matthew’s grieving song last night. I would question myself less and seek to learn more of that around me. Taking charge of my life was my goal, and I intended to meet that.

I was luckier than many women my age, now free to decide what happened to me. I had no man controlling my behavior now. Yes, I was with Grayson, but now I was with him by choice, not by the fear that had driven me thus far. I didn’t know exactly how I felt about the man, but I wanted the opportunity to find out. To do that, I needed time, time to be with him. I was determined to take that time, no matter what. But how was I to go about it? How was I to measure
his
feelings for me?

“Olivia?”

“Yes?” I turned to my youngest sister. She sat on the edge of the bed lacing up the too-tight boots. Her face held none of the animation I was used to seeing.

“What do I say? I mean, to Rachel?”

“I don’t know. Whatever feels right.”

“But what if I don’t have anything right to say?”

“Then simply say you are sorry, and that you love her. That’s all any of us can say really.” I motioned for the child to turn around and then I began taming her coppery hair into some semblance of a braid. I wished once again that my own hair contained the same touches of red and gold that hers did. “Rachel will just be glad we’re there.”

Someone knocked on the door and I knew it was either Grayson or Matthew. Amelia opened it, allowing Grayson to enter.

He took one look at me, braiding my sister’s hair when my own was in complete disarray and frowned. “Hurry, ladies. I want you in the eating house in fifteen minutes. Don’t dawdle.”

After delivering his terse edict, he hurried through the door again, without giving us any explanation. I finished dressing, tying the laces on my own shoes. They were so horribly old and worn with holes on both.

As the dining establishment was several blocks from the hotel I decided not to pin up my long hair completely. It would take too long. Instead, I pulled each side up and pinned it, letting the remainder fall. It waved and stopped near my waist. My head felt so much lighter, freed from the weight of the habitual bun I favored. Amelia fidgeted, hungry as always, though her face was drawn and her eyes reddened.

We arrived at the eating house just shy of the quarter hour Grayson had ordered. I was flustered and breathless, both from the early morning chill and the brisk walk.

Grayson stood as we entered, as did his table companion. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning, Mr. Lofton, Grayson,” I felt my cheeks heat as I looked at Matthew. Why did he fluster me so? Grayson helped me into my seat, his fingers brushing my back and the long curtain of my hair. Amelia murmured her own, much less formal greeting as she sank into her chair and grabbed a fresh roll out of a basket on the table.

“Is everything arranged? Our tickets, I mean?” I accepted a roll when Matthew held the basket my way, though my stomach was so tight I doubted I could eat.

“We leave tomorrow on the eight a.m. train. Once we reach the last station on the route we’ll hire a wagon for the rest of the way,” Grayson said.

“And then?” What would happen once we arrived back home? Would my uncle immediately order Grayson arrested?

“My father has insisted on a private funeral. It will be held on our land, and my brother will be buried in the family cemetery. My uncle will be speaking. No one from town is invited. Your uncle needn’t know you’re there. You’ll be safe until you leave.” Matthew’s words were low and I strained to hear him. I found his answer only vaguely reassuring. What if someone saw us headed to Lofton’s farm? It did neighbor my uncle’s, after all.

“What about after? What will happen to us then?” Amelia’s voice broke and I patted her shoulder. It occurred to me then that Grayson and I had neglected to explain our plans to the child.

“You’ll be coming with me to Tennessee, of course.” Grayson told her, as if the subject had already been discussed. For my benefit or Matthew’s?

“But what about Fischer? Don’t you have to find him?” I could see the child hadn’t even considered that we might return with Grayson to his home. What had she thought we would do? Had she thought that far ahead?

“Once I get you all settled, if he’s not turned up by then, I’ll head out lookin’ for him again.”

His calm tone belied the worry I could see tightening his mouth. He never mentioned his brother but I knew then that he probably thought about him a great deal. And here I was delaying him yet again. I truly was a selfish person, wanting him for my own purpose. My own safety. I had given little thought to his needs, his home, and his brother. What the man must think of me. And now I have pressed myself and my sister onto him again.

“Did you see fighting? Which side?” Matthew demanded of him, his hands tightening into fists on the table.

“I was a physician, I didn’t see fighting¯all I saw was dying.” Grayson spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, unchallenging.

I waited for Matthew’s reaction, knowing that one word to whatever authority governed this city and Grayson would be hunted, imprisoned. Matthew stared at him for a moment before his hands relaxed.

I released the breath I had been holding. The rest of the meal passed in relative silence. No one wanted to talk about what the immediate future held. We paid for our meal and began the sixteen block walk to the train station to meet my sister.

Amelia walked slightly ahead, where I could see her, arms folded across her narrow chest. Matthew chose to walk behind, his limp slowly him only slightly. I sensed that all of us had heavy thoughts we did not want to share. Grayson held my hand tucked into the corner of his elbow, being courteous and solicitous. I couldn’t help but wonder at his purpose
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was it entirely for Matthew’s benefit?

We waited again, in the same station as yesterday. I wondered how many train stations a town this size might possess. Wouldn’t it make sense to have one on each side? Amelia settled quietly on a bench, speaking little. She hadn’t spoken much all morning, and it concerned me. I soon joined her on the seat, leaving Matthew and Grayson to speak together quietly.

“Livy? What does it mean? Now that the fighting is over?”

“I don’t know that it
is
over. We’ll probably have to wait and see on that. Before we know.” I felt certain it wasn’t thoughts of the war bothering her, and I waited for her to continue.

“But what does it
mean?
For us¯you, me, Rachel? Why are we going to Tennessee? Why aren’t we going home to Maryland? I don’t know if I want to go to Tennessee. We don’t know anybody there, ‘cept Grayson.”

“Our life in Maryland is over now. Father’s gone, the farm’s gone. There’s nothing left for us there.” I paused a moment, not sure how to word the rest. “Rachel might not be going with us to Tennessee. She might want to stay with Gideon’s family.”

“Do you think so?” Amelia began to kick her feet against the wood slat under the bench, shaking both me and her with a jarring rhythm.

“She’ll be taken care of. Mr. Lofton will see to that.” I looked over as a man ran by pursued by two tall men in Union uniforms. I wanted to be sure it wasn’t Grayson. They passed so close to him that he was knocked back several steps. I watched him for a moment before speaking again. “I’m not certain of what Tennessee will mean for you and me.”

“What? Where will we live?”

“I don’t know.” I decided on candor, letting her know what we faced. “We can’t depend on Grayson’s good-will for too much longer. It’s not right to bring such a burden.”

“But I don’t think Grayson would mind!”

I smiled at the child’s naïve words. “Still. We mustn’t take advantage of his generosity. He will have a long row to hoe himself. It wouldn’t be fitting, or proper, for us to press ourselves into his life.”

“I don’t think whether it’s fitting or not matters, Liv. Not now anyway. I know you’ve let him kiss you. That’s not fitting, either, right?” She turned to me, stopped kicking her feet.

“All we did was kiss, and that was in a weak moment. I’m not condoning my behavior, Amelia Ann. I don’t want you to ever feel the license to repeat it; it isn’t something I am proud of. And it doesn’t mean that Grayson has a responsibility to us.” I stood, pulling her up by the hand. “We have no one to depend upon but you and me. I want you to remember that, not get raised expectations. Once we get to Tennessee, I will have to find employment. You might be on your own quite a bit, and I need to know I can trust you to behave with decorum.”

She nodded her agreement and I wondered if it was right to tell her such things. It painted a bleak portrait. One I wasn’t sure a twelve-year-old should see.

The time for Rachel’s arrival was slowly approaching and Amelia and I joined the gentlemen near the arrival platform. I half-hoped the train would be late. I didn’t want to face what this train would bring.

It wasn’t. The engine rolled into the station exactly on time. I started to shake, waiting and watching as each passenger disembarked, until finally, my sister descended the steps. She accepted a helping hand from the porter, and turned, looking over her shoulder at whomever walked behind her. I stood on the balls of my feet, straining to get a glimpse, but the person was too short.

It wasn’t until Rachel was completely off the steps that I realized it was a child, a very young child. He had pale hair, nearly white, and his skin was the pale of warmed cream. He was an intensely beautiful child, ethereal even. But what struck me was the total confusion written on the little face. I wasn’t aware I’d whispered the words until I felt them leave my mouth, “Who is that poor child?”

“Must be Elias, my uncle’s boy.” Matthew’s voice was terse as he continued, “But why does she have him? His mother had a large family up Chicago way.”

Rachel noticed our group, and the look on her face startled me. Such relief and surprise was reflected that I knew she hadn’t been told Amelia and I would be meeting her.

She lifted the child and nearly ran to me, sobbing my name and that of her husband. My heart broke then for what she had endured in just a scant amount of days. I wrapped my arms around her and the still silent boy, rocking and weeping right along with her.

I don’t know how long we stood there on the platform before Grayson and Matthew moved to separate us. The child still hadn’t made so much as a sound and I wondered if he could be deaf and mute. Grayson guided us to the bench Amelia and I had just recently vacated. He gently nudged me into the center and my sisters each followed on either side. He told me he and Matthew had to see to some arrangements and not to move until they returned. I nodded though I had paid little attention to his words. After he and Matthew departed I sat there murmuring reassurances and useless platitudes to my siblings.

“Liv, who is that man? The one with Matthew.” Rachel turned the child and I got my first close look at the boy. His eyes, as green as newly budded leaves, were sightless. And while on first glance it appeared his brows and lashes to be pale blond they were actually missing. In their place, arching over his eyes, were mere red patches of skin. I wondered then, as my stomach turned horribly, just how close this poor little one had come to being lost in the fire like the rest of his family. Heart-rending, for the child could be no more than three years of age.

“He’s the man with whom I’ve, we’ve, been traveling. His name is Grayson, and he is a good man.” I stumbled over the words, unsure how to describe my relationship with the man. “I think you’ll like him.”

“How did you meet him? I don’t recall seeing him before.” Rachel’s voice was curiously flat, devoid of emotion, and it worried me some.

“I found him; we met, near Uncle’s farm. He was ill, and I helped him,” Not nearly the complete tale but I wasn’t sure how much detail to give her. Why burden her with worry over Amelia and me so soon after her own difficulties?

“Oh.” Rachel turned away, seeming to lose interest. She ran her hand down the boy’s back, soothing him as he fidgeted.

“The child, Rachel. Can you tell me of him? He is a beautiful boy.” His head rested on her shoulder, his face pointed in my direction.

“His name is Elias. Gideon’s cousin. His parents were lost with Gideon. Elias was lucky, Gideon pulled him out. But the fire was so close; it seared his little eyes. We don’t know if it’s permanent.” She rocked, and the boy still made no sound
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though I knew he knew he was the object of our conversation. “He won’t talk. Hasn’t since they told him of his mama and papa. And his sisters.”

“Does he have no other family? No one to take him in?”

“They didn’t think they could handle the burden. Not now, with his eyes and all. I insisted he come with me. They didn’t protest too awful much.” Her mouth turned downward and I wondered just how stridently she had had to insist.

“But what will you do with him? Will he stay with Mr. Lofton?” I stroked his little brow and he pulled away, turning his head into her neck.