Shattered Moments (8 page)

The house sighed and breathed like a living thing as it settled for the night around the sleeping family.  Finn heard Mr. Mallory coming to bed about a half hour ago, his heavy footsteps finally dying away, replaced by gentle snoring and the occasional creaking of the bed frame as he shifted his bulk.  He hardly ever came to bed before midnight, so it was probably going on one o’clock.  Finn was physically tired, but his mind refused to settle as he once again went over the details for his upcoming journey.  Nothing was ever put in writing, so he had to make sure to remember everything, including the contingency plan that always had to be in place before every mission. 

He would leave tomorrow after breakfast and
make his way to Georgia on foot.  It would be faster to go on horseback, but the Mallorys didn’t have a horse to spare, and a man on foot wasn’t as noticeable to others, which was always an advantage.  It was much easier to lose himself in a crowd, or hitch a ride with some unsuspecting farmer who was only too happy to talk and divulge important information without even realizing it.  Finn’s contact would meet him at the
Pig and Rooster Tavern
near the Savannah harbor.  Finn knew him only as John, but that probably wasn’t even his real name.  It was always best to know as little as possible so as not to unwittingly betray a compatriot.  John would have a copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets in his possession as a signal to Finn.  Finn chuckled to himself; not many men in the colonies devoted their time to reading Shakespeare, much less sonnets, which is why it was the perfect choice.

Finn hoped that he would get at least a few hours of sleep as he would spend most of the following day walking and needed his rest.  He was about to close his eyes and try breathing evenly, as his father-in-law suggested
as a sure-fire method for battling nerves, but a strange, mewling sound had him sitting up in bed and fully alert.  The sound came from Diana’s cot, so Finn got out of bed and went to investigate.  She was sitting up, her chubby arms reaching out to him in a silent plea to be picked up, which he gladly did.  Finn held the child close to his heart and stroked her hair gently, but she continued to fuss, letting out a desperate squeal as he tried to lower her back into the cradle.

“All right, all right, I understand,” he whispered to her, “you don’t want to go back to bed.  Let’s go outside then, so you don’t wake everyone up.”  Finn wrapped Diana in a blanket and made his way downstairs on silent feet, letting himself out of the house and settling on a bench beneath a leafy maple.  Abbie often sat there during the af
ternoon, letting Diana play at her feet as she sewed in natural daylight.

Finn held Diana close as she peered at him in the darkness, her eyes full of wonder at being outside at night.  She might have been frightened by something and woken up, but now she seemed perfectly content, just leaning her head against Finn’s heart and listening to the steady rhythm.  Finn had to admit that he was kind of glad Diana had woken up.  He rarely got to spend any time alone
with her, not for lack of trying, but for lack of opportunity. 

It seemed that someone was always plucking her from his arms and taking her away.  In a house full of women
, it was difficult for a man to be with his daughter.  Abbie was overly protective, as any new mother probably was, and Mrs. Mallory doted on her beautiful granddaughter and liked to carry Diana on her hip as she went about her chores.  Sarah and Annie were at an age where they wanted to mother the child and play with her all the time, and Mr. Mallory liked to sit Diana on his lap in the evening and sing to her as she listened with rapt attention.  Finn was glad that his child was so loved and cared for, but sometimes he longed for a few quiet moments alone with her.  He loved the feel of her small body against his own and the wonderful smell that only she had.

It was strange how this one little girl was such a mixture of all the people around him, yet uniquely his own.  She had his eyes, which Finn was secretly proud of, and Abbie’s smile.  Her hair was dark with some lighter chestnut strands, so much like his mother’s, and she looked remarkably like Mrs. Mallory when she was displeased with something and wrinkled her nose in distaste.  There was even something of his father in the way
Diana cocked her head to the side and stilled when something caught her attention.  It would be fascinating to see what their next child would be like, and whom it would resemble. 

One naked foot came out of the blanket and Finn enveloped it in his hand, marveling at how well it fit.  Diana wiggled her toes and let out a little giggle, then settled back into the crook of Finn’s arm. 
“Sing,” she commanded, and he began to sing a mournful song he’d learned from Mr. Mallory.  It was about a lost love and fading hope, but Diana loved it, and her eyelids began to flutter as they grew heavier and her breathing became deep and measured.  Finn continued to sing after she grew heavy in his arms, her mouth open in sleep, not wanting the moment to end, but it was time to take Diana back to her bed and try to get some sleep before setting off in a few hours. 

Susanna threw a
grateful smile at Sam as he cleared the table after breakfast and covered the leftover bread with a cloth to keep it from getting stale.  They could have it for breakfast tomorrow, perhaps with some cheese, so she could get a few extra minutes of sleep instead of cooking porridge.  Sam peered into the pot from last night’s stew, the bottom badly burned with pieces of potato and meat gristle stuck to the metal like an impenetrable suit of armor.

“Sorry I burnt it,” Susanna mumbled
apologetically.  “Ben was crying, and I forgot to stir the pot.”  She’d also forgotten to let it soak, so the pot would need some vigorous scrubbing to get it clean again.

“Nothing to worry about.  I’ll just take it down to the creek and wash it
out,” Sam offered, eager to help.

“No, it needs to soak
first.  Just pour some hot water into it and then fill this basin for me.  I need to wash Ben’s clouts and gown.  He goes through them so quickly.”  She was too tired to wash anything, not having slept well at all, but if she didn’t do it, Ben wouldn’t have enough clouts to last till noon.  Susanna sighed and rolled up her sleeves, ready to attack the smelly pile. 

“I’d offer to do it, but I promised Pa I would muck out the barn.  I would have done it
yesterday, but with all the excitement of Diana’s arrival I never got to it.  Best do it now.”  Sam reached for his boots, clearly reluctant to go.  He looked as tired as Susanna felt.

Susanna leveled her gaze at Sam.  He seemed awfully jumpy since coming back from his parents
’ house yesterday evening, and strangely upset about the arrival of their unexpected guest.  Susanna had heard of the part Diana played in Abbie’s rescue, so she was a little perplexed as to Sam’s reaction.  She supposed no one expected Diana to arrive with a child, especially Jonah’s child, and the situation this created was awkward, to say the least, but the family owed a debt of gratitude to Diana which couldn’t be denied, and this made things even more complicated.

Even if Jon
ah had relations with Diana, he certainly wasn’t the first or the last.  Diana’s bold move implied that she expected Jonah to marry her, but as of yet, no one knew how Jonah felt about any of this, or if he even knew of the child’s existence.  The Mallorys, of course, were less than pleased; finding out their son sired a child on a prostitute, and now might have to make an honest woman out of her simply out of obligation.  No one entertained the idea that the boy might have fallen in love, but it wasn’t unlikely, Susanna thought. 

Jonah held a soft spot in Susanna’s heart, for he reminded her of herself.  He was sensitive and shy, desperate to love and be loved, but not brave enough to put his heart at risk.  Maybe loving Diana had been easy since he wasn’t afraid of rejection.  She made him feel ten feet tall, and he in turn, might have made promises that he didn’t keep, but meant wholeheartedly at the time. 

Susanna smiled as she suddenly thought of Sam’s sister, Martha.  She would have a mouthful regarding this situation.  Martha always had a mouthful.  Sue had to admit that she admired her spirit.  Martha wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and often voiced that which everyone else was thinking, but too afraid to say.  She’d have to make sure to be there when Martha came over with baby Joe.  Her husband, Gil, was off with the Militia, so Martha liked to come over at least twice a week to visit her parents and siblings and give Joe a chance to play with his cousins.

“Sam, what will your parents do?”
Susanna asked, the dirty clouts steaming in the basin and filling the house with an unpleasant aroma.

“About what?”
 

“This
situation with Diana. Do you think Jonah was one of her clients, or they really had some type of relationship?”

“I couldn’t say.  Jonah never gave any indication that he was interested.  He introduced us in New York, but I’d never
seen them together after that first time.  I thought that to him Diana was simply a messenger, but then, you never know with Jonah.  He holds his cards close to the chest when it comes to private matters.  Funny, he used to be so chatty when he was a boy; you couldn’t shut him up, but now he’d rather listen than talk.”  Sam shrugged as he pulled on his right boot.  “Of course, Jonah does tend to fear girls. Diana is so approachable that it would have made it easier for him than taking a chance of rejection by some virginal maiden.”  Sam giggled.  “Poor Jonah finally lies with a woman, and now he’ll have to pay for it for the rest of his days.”

“Don’t joke about it, Sam.  Jonah will be in for a shock when he returns.”

“I know.  Actually, what I find strange is that she kept the child at all,” Sam mused as he pulled on his other boot and rose to leave.

“Why?”

“Women of Diana’s profession know how to avoid pregnancy, and when the inevitable happens and they do get with child, they know ways to get rid of it.  Having a child is not usually an option unless they can marry the father and leave it all behind.”

“Isn’t that why she’s here?  To marry the father?” Susanna asked, suddenly feeling apprehensive.
  “Sam, how well did you know her in New York?”

“She was good at ferreting out information and passing it on to the right people.  I saw her from time to time,” Sam replied, inching toward the door.

“Did you ever…?

Sam wrapped his arms around Susanna, kissing her softly to stop her questions.  “I love you, Sue.  Now, I hear the barn calling.”  He disappeared into the balmy
morning, leaving Susanna with more questions than answers.

Sam was relieved to get out of the house and away from Susanna’s questions.  They’d never really discussed his past, and he felt no desire to share stories of his sexual conquests with her.  It would only upset her and make her question his love for her.  All those women had come long before he met her, and had been nothing more than a pleasant diversion, as he had been for them.  No words of love had been spoken or promises made.  He’d liked Diana.  She was witty and fun, and wonderfully adventurous in bed, but that was all it had been for him. 

Had his little brother really fallen for her, or had she tricked him into something?  Jonah could be so
gullible sometimes, but that was one of the traits that made him so dear.  He was so earnest and devoted to the people he loved, and if he’d promised Diana anything, he would fulfill that promise, no matter what their parents thought, especially since now there was a child.   He was a sweet, little mite, and so like Ben.  He deserved better than a life belowstairs at a brothel, but Sam had seen the look on his father’s face and the way his mother avoided meeting Diana’s challenging stare.  They weren’t pleased, and who could blame them?  Bringing home a British bride had been a shock enough, but to marry a whore was another matter altogether.  Poor Jonah better stay away until his parents got used to the idea of having Diana for a daughter-in-law, or there’d be hell to pay. 

Sam had to admit that s
eeing Diana had been something of a shock after all this time, and he was glad that Susanna hadn’t been there to witness his reaction.  She would doubtlessly read something into it and assume that he had feelings for her, when in truth what he felt was surprise tinged with pity.  The pretty vivacious girl looked drawn and weary, her face gaunt, and the pretty blush replaced by a grayish pallor and smudges of fatigue under the eyes.  No doubt she’d had a hard time of it this past year, and coming to the Mallorys had been a last resort.  It would have taken courage for any girl to show up on someone’s doorstep with a baby, but for a girl who earned her living whoring, it was downright brazen.  Sam tried not to stare at the child in Diana’s arms, but his eyes kept straying to the shock of dark hair and the clear gray eyes that were so like his and Jonah’s.  There was no doubt the baby was a Mallory, but which Mallory?

Sam was so caught up in his thoughts that he only noticed her as he got closer to the barn.  She was leaning against the st
ile, a light-colored shawl carelessly thrown across her thin shoulders.  At first, he thought it might have been Abbie, since the spot was a favorite of hers, but he immediately realized it wasn’t since the woman’s hair was hanging down her back, the auburn curls caressed by the gentle breeze as they framed her face, which was turned up to the heavens, watching the clouds scuttling across the summer sky and casting shadows on her face as they obscured the sun.

“I needed some air,” she said by way of explanation, her
gaze sliding over him and settling on his face.

“It’s warm out this morning,” Sam replied noncommittally.

“Yes, it’s much balmier than New York, but I like it.  It smells different too.  Where are you going, Sam?”

“I was just on my way to muck out the barn,” he answered as he came nearer.  “Should have done it
yesterday.”

“I’ll come with you,” she announced unexpectedly, throwing Sam for a loop.

“If you want, but it’s hot and smelly in there, not the best place to get some fresh air.”

“I’ll gladly give up air in favor of your company,” she replied with her usual coyness, slipping her arm through Sam’s as she peeled herself away from the stile and joined him.  Sam tried not to stiffen, but her presence made him nervous.  This was all just too strange.  He was glad when the
y finally reached the barn and he was able to disentangle himself from her, as he picked up a pitchfork and went to work.  The air was close with the smell of manure and soiled straw, but at least the stalls were empty since the girls let the cows and goats out to pasture after milking them this morning.  Sam tried not to breathe too deeply as he cleaned out the first stall and threw down some fresh straw, eager to be done as quickly as possible.

Diana made herself comfortable on a bale of hay
, reclining on her elbows as she watched Sam work.  He wasn’t sure what to say to her, so he tried not to meet her gaze which never left his face, her eyes demanding that he stop what he was doing and look back at her.

“Why did you keep him?”
Sam blurted out.  He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the question kept coming back to him, making him wonder about Diana’s intentions.

“Every
woman wants a child by the man she loves,” she replied quietly, making Sam feel ashamed of himself.

“So you love Jonah?
  How well do you even know him?”

“Well enough,” she replied, still watching him intently.

“Well enough to truly love him?”  Sam knew he was being mean, but he had to figure out what she was after.

“I love Nat’s father,” she
replied defensively.  “Do you not think me capable of love, Sam?  I do have a heart, you know.” 

Sam felt suddenly guilty.  He had no idea what had driven Diana into prostitution, but she was a lovely girl, and he was being unnecessarily cruel.  “I’m
sorry; I didn’t mean to imply anything.  I just thought that because we also…”  He didn’t finish the sentence, knowing she got his meaning. 

  Diana slid off the hay and walked over to him,
standing close enough that he could smell her hair and see the sheen of perspiration on her creamy breasts.  “Do you ever think about it?” she asked, her voice breathless as she inched just a little closer.

“At times.”  He hadn’t thought of her in a long while, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  She obviously wanted him to say that he did.

“I think about it too,” she whispered, suddenly cupping his balls through the fabric of his breeches.  He wanted to shove her hand away, but his treacherous body was already reacting to her, his cock straining against the fabric, begging for her body to envelop it like it used to.  It’d been months since the last time he’d made love to Susanna, and he was hungry and eager for release.  That moment of hesitation cost him dearly as Diana pulled the laces of her bodice, loosening it and baring her breasts to him as she arched her back, bringing them closer to his mouth. 

“Sam,” she breathed, “how I missed you.”

Sam tore his eyes from her breasts as he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away from his throbbing cock.  “You came here with my brother’s child, and now you’re trying to get me to fuck you?  Once a whore always a whore,” he spat out and strode from the barn, angry and frustrated.  He wished he could go home and slake his sexual frustration with Susanna, but she wasn’t receptive right now, and his sudden ardor would just alarm her and make her wonder what he’d been up to while he should have been mucking out the barn. 

Sam
strutted into the woods where he leaned against a stout tree and gazed up at the sky.  He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Bible verses and boring chores, but all he could think of was the desire coursing through his veins and the sight of Diana with her bare breasts just begging to be kissed.  Images of her as she had been in New York raced through his fevered brain as he slid his hand down his breeches and went to work.  He was panting by the time he finally came, sliding down the length of the tree, his heart pounding wildly.  He’d wanted her, he couldn’t deny it, and he felt like the lowest of scum for nearly betraying Susanna.  If only Diana would leave.  He couldn’t allow her to ensnare Jonah; she’d never be true to him, and Sam would never be at peace if she were that near.