Surrender to the Fury (16 page)

Aimee took up the reins and slapped the horse’s rump. Unaccustomed to being hitched to a wagon,
the horse balked, but through perseverance and raw determination, Aimee managed to make him move. An enormous cavern of blackness swallowed them as they rode down the long, oak-lined driveway, leading away from Nick Drummond and the almost fatal hold he had upon Aimee.

The going was slow. Too slow for Aimee’s liking, but the night was so dark, it was difficult even to follow the thin strip of road. What was even more frightening was the fact that she wasn’t even certain which direction to take. Tall Oaks lay northwest of Atlanta, so she headed southeast, or what she thought was southeast. Until the sun came up, she could only pray her sense of direction hadn’t failed her.

Brand woke up crying. Aimee left it to Savannah to soothe him, afraid to take her eyes off the strip of road she was following. He settled down quickly enough but continued to whimper in his sleep. Aimee was more worried than she’d let on to Savannah. Brand had suffered his share of childhood illnesses during his five years of life, and she was concerned now that something more serious might be involved. Perhaps he had caught something from one of the Yanks staying at Tall Oaks, she reasoned, and it would quickly pass.

The next time Brand awoke, Aimee handed the reins to Savannah and crawled into the wagon bed with him. She cried out in alarm when his tiny body convulsed with chills while still releasing enormous amounts of heat through his pores.

“What is it, honey?”

“You were right, Savannah, we should have never left Tall Oaks with Brand ill. He has a fever.”

“You want me to turn back?” Savannah asked hopefully.

“No, not now, not when we’ve come so far. Have you forgotten that we’ve drugged four men and stolen a horse? I’ll be sent to prison for sure. It would kill me to be separated from Brand.”

Shortly after dawn they met a Union patrol. Fortunately for Aimee, it wasn’t Captain Drummond’s patrol. Their wagon was stopped and Aimee was questioned closely about their destination. Batting her eyes in a helpless manner, Aimee blandly informed them she was taking her sick son to the next town to see a doctor. One look at Brand’s flushed face convinced the captain in charge to allow them to continue. He issued a well-meant warning before waving them on.

“I suggest you obtain a pass next time you wish to travel through Union territory. Spies are known to employ devious methods in order to smuggle messages through enemy lines. They wouldn’t hesitate to use a sick child. The next patrol you meet might not be so eager to let you proceed without written permission or proper identification.”

Aimee hoped no one could hear the wild pounding of her heart as the men rode away. A pass! Why hadn’t she thought of that? She could have easily forged some kind of official paper using Nick’s name.

“What we gonna do if we meet up with more Yankees?” Savannah asked anxiously. “You heard de captain; de next patrol might turn us back.”

“No one is going to turn me back,” Aimee said, her eyes blazing defiantly.

“We’s in Yankee territory.”

“I know.” She grew thoughtful. “The obvious solution is to travel by night until we cross into Confederate territory. And I know the perfect place to hide.”

“Where’s dat, chile?”

“The Pinder plantation. I understand that nothing remains of the grand house except charred ruins, but it’s the last place anyone would look for us. And it’s far enough off the main road to discourage searchers.”

Less than a hour later, Aimee guided the wagon down the dusty track leading to the Pinder plantation. Brand was fully awake now and complaining loudly of various aches and pains. He was flushed, his eyes were glazed, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

The Pinder house was in worse shape than Aimee had supposed. There wasn’t a wall standing that offered shelter or a hiding place for the wagon. Aimee’s hopes plummeted, until her gaze wandered beyond the charred hulk to the stable. She noted with glee that a large section of the structure stood virtually intact.

“Look, Savannah!” Aimee cried, pointing at the stable. “We can spend the day there, and no one will be the wiser. It will give us a chance to see to Brand and rest up before setting out again at dark.”

Once the wagon was concealed and the horse unhitched, they ate sparingly of the food they had brought along. Brand ate nothing, requesting only water. Aimee ventured out of the stable once to inspect the pump in the yard, grateful to find it still in working order. They used the cool water to bathe Brand, but it seemed to do his fever little
good. The heat of his body felt as if it would singe her fingertips. When darkness arrived, it was apparent to both Savannah and Aimee that they could not continue without endangering Brand’s life.

“What we gonna do, chile?” Savannah asked fearfully. “Brand needs his own bed to lie in, soothing broth to give him strength, and medicine to ease his fever.”

“I should have heeded your warning, Savannah,” Aimee admitted. Guilt plagued her. She would never willingly endanger Brand’s life. “I never meant to place Brand’s life in danger. You must take him back to Tall Oaks at once.”

“Ain’t you coming with us?”

Aimee flushed. “I can’t, Savannah. I’d die in jail. No, you take Brand back. I trust you to care for him. And as much as I hate to admit it, Nick will see to Brand’s welfare. He’s become quite attached to the boy.”

“I can’t just leave you out here on your own,” Savannah protested. “What you gonna do?”

“Exactly what I intended in the first place. I’ll continue on to Confederate territory. I’ll come back to Tall Oaks when the blue-bellies leave. Go now, Savannah; get help for Brand. If you leave now, you’ll reach Tall Oaks before sundown.”

As if in challenge to her words, a roll of thunder reverberated through the countryside with ominous foreboding, followed by a brilliant flash of lightning.

“Not now, chile; it’s fixin’ to rain. Brand is sick enough without givin’ him a good soakin’.”

Shortly afterward a curtain of steady rain lashed the stable; a sufficient amount poured through
cracks and rotting timber to make the occupants cold and uncomfortable. Crawling under the wagon for protection from the elements, Aimee cuddled Brand, giving him the added heat of her body, meager though it was. The rest of the day and night crawled by with agonizing slowness. By first light the downpour had slowed to a steady drizzle, and Aimee placed Brand inside the wagon bed, covered him with blankets they had brought along, and kissed him good-bye.

“Aren’t you coming, Mama?” Brand asked when Savannah climbed into the wagon seat and took up the reins.

“I’ll come later, darling,” Aimee said, holding back tears. “Be a good boy for Savannah; she’ll take good care of you.”

“Captain Drummond’s going to be mad at you again,” Brand frowned, “and lock you in your room.”

“No, Brand, he’ll never lock me in my room again,” Aimee assured him. “I love you, darling.”

She kissed him one more time, frightened by the heat rising from his pores, then signaled to Savannah. Immediately the wagon jerked forward, the creak of the wheels filling Aimee’s heart with a desolation that nearly tore her apart. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, and the only thing that saved her from being utterly destroyed was the thought that she was doing what was best for Brand. Nick Drummond might be a damn Yankee, but she knew instinctively he wouldn’t let Brand suffer because of her mistakes.

It was still raining at dusk when Nick rode back to Tall Oaks. His mission was hugely successful.
He and his patrol had penetrated deep into Reb territory and had gotten a fairly accurate estimate of the strength of the enemy army Sherman would encounter in his march to Atlanta. Nick had sent one of his men to headquarters with the information and rode hell for leather back to Tall Oaks. He’d missed Aimee and Brand, missed them dreadfully. If that was a hint of what life would be without them, he didn’t like the feeling.

Drenched to the skin, Nick stabled his mount and approached the house, eager to see Aimee and Brand. His stomach rumbled from hunger and he wondered what delicious concoction Savannah had cooked up for supper. Perhaps another of those savory stews accompanied by biscuits and pie for dessert

A strange premonition seized Nick as he entered the house. Normally at least one lamp was left burning in the foyer as evening neared, but tonight the foyer was dark. When he noted the absence of cooking odors, an odd coldness seized him. Aimee! He knew she was gone even before he received Sergeant Jones’s report. How or why made little difference; her departure left an aching void in his heart.

“Sergeant Jones!” Nick bellowed the name at the top of his lungs. It echoed ominously through the house and into the yard beyond. Within minutes the guilt-stricken Jones was standing at attention before Nick.

He didn’t wait for Nick’s first question. “I know what you’re thinking, sir, but it wasn’t deliberate. I guarded the lady just like you said, but she tricked us.”

“One fragile lady tricked four burly soldiers?”
Nick repeated dully. His tone clearly conveyed his disbelief.

“Yes, sir, that’s just how it was. Mrs. Trevor drugged a pot of coffee she brought out for us two nights ago, and—and when we fell asleep, she and her servant hitched one of our horses to that dilapidated wagon and took off.”

Nick, spit out an oath that turned the air blue. “What kind of a drug did she use?”

“Must have been laudanum, sir. There was a good deal of it in the medicine chest in your quarters, but when I checked later, it was gone. I never suspected—that is, I didn’t think Mrs. Trevor was so eager to leave. She’s not been mistreated here.”

“No, not mistreated,” Nick concurred. What he didn’t say was that he was forcing her to his bed with threats of prison if she didn’t comply. Though he liked to think she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, it was highly unlikely she really felt that way. He wore a blue uniform and he was the enemy. “I assume you searched for her.”

“Yes, sir, me and two men went out the next day but saw nary a sign of the wagon or its occupants. It just don’t make sense. How could she have disappeared into thin air? Traveling by night isn’t easy, and they couldn’t have made very good time, yet the roads were deserted but for several patrols in the area.”

“They have to be headed for Confederate territory,” Nick mused thoughtfully. “Pick two men to accompany me tomorrow. I’ll leave at first light and search for them myself. I gave my word to Colonel Brooks that if he placed Mrs. Trevor in my custody instead of sending her to prison, I’d accept full responsibility for her actions. When I find
the little witch, I’ll personally wring her neck. She doesn’t realize the danger that exists for a woman and child alone.”

“Deserters have been seen in the area, Captain. They’re mean and desperate enough to attempt anything. That wagon and horse will look mighty tempting to men with no means of transportation. And the lady is beautiful enough to bewitch a saint.”

“Don’t I know,” Nick muttered beneath his breath. Aloud he said, “I’ll find her, Sergeant.” His mouth was set in grim lines; his eyes looked bleak. If it was the last thing he did, he’d find Aimee and bring her back to Tall Oaks. Then somehow he’d force her to admit that Brand was his son.

Nick had thought quite a bit about Brand lately. The first time he’d seen the lad, Nick was reminded of someone; he’d finally figured out who—himself at the same age. Aimee told him Brand was four years old, but he seriously doubted that. Brand was too big and too smart for a four-year-old. He figured the boy’s age was closer to five than four. If that was so, then Brand was his son.

When Aimee admitted she had been a virgin the night he took her five years ago, the pieces all fell neatly into place. If he hadn’t been so damn hot to be inside her, he would have realized he had taken a virgin, but at the time he was so consumed with lust, he didn’t feel the slight resistance to his penetration. Nor did he stick around long enough the next morning to inspect the sheets. He simply thought he had bedded a professional gambler who didn’t mind paying gambling debts with her body. Time and maturity had altered that opinion.

Nick took time to bathe and change before joining the men in the mess tent. He was walking across the yard in the drizzle when he noticed a wagon approaching in the distance. He frowned as he watched its slow progress from the avenue of tall oaks lining the driveway. When he recognized Savannah driving, his heart thudded painfully in his chest. Where was Aimee? Why were they returning? Had something happened?

By now others had noticed the wagon and stood around gaping. Jones and Dill joined Nick as he walked down the gravel drive. Nick grabbed the harness when they drew abreast.

“Thank the good Lord,” Savannah said as she all but collapsed in the seat. She was drenched to the skin and shivering, ill clad in ragged remnants.

“What happened, Savannah? Where’s Aimee?” Worry overrode Nick’s anger. Something disastrous must have happened to bring Savannah back alone.

“Look, Captain, in the wagon bed!” Dill had heard a noise coming from the back of the wagon and moved to investigate. He threw aside a blanket and discovered Brand lying beneath the covering. He was soaked to the skin and shivering violently.

Nick moved quickly to Dill’s side, praying he wouldn’t find two dead bodies. What he saw filled him with fear. Brand looked so ill, Nick thought him beyond help. A glad cry escaped his throat when he noticed the steady rise and fall of his tiny chest.

“For God’s sake, what happened?”

“He’s sick,” Savannah wailed. “My baby’s sick.” Having dismounted from the wagon with the help
of one of the men standing nearby, she now hovered over Brand, moaning and wringing her hands. “You gotta help him, Captain.”

With more gentleness than he knew he possessed, Nick picked up the small boy and started briskly for the house. “We have to get him out of the rain, Savannah.” Intense heat pouring from Brand penetrated the thick material of Nick’s uniform, and he feared for the boy’s life.

Once Brand was tucked snugly in bed, Nick rummaged through his medicine chest and carefully spooned a concoction made especially for fevers down the lad’s throat. Throughout the war, Nick had learned that traveling without a doctor meant he had to be prepared to treat many minor ailments. Before being assigned to Tall Oaks, he had stocked his medicine chest with every kind of medication that one of the doctors at headquarters had suggested. He thanked God he had the foresight to do so, for the medicine might save Brand’s life.