Surrender to the Fury (17 page)

Savannah hadn’t left Brand’s side, not even to change her damp clothes. She merely stood quietly, waiting for Nick’s anger to explode, as she knew it must.

“How did this happen, Savannah?” Nick asked quietly after he had done what he could for Brand. “Why didn’t Aimee return with you? Where is she now?”

“I—I don’t rightly know, Captain. Brand wasn’t feelin’ well when we left Tall Oaks, but by then it was too late to turn back.”

“Too late!” Nick hissed between clenched teeth. “What kind of mother would endanger the life of her son? I thought Aimee loved her child. Go
change, Savannah. When you return, I want a full explanation.”

Savannah stood her ground. “I promised Aimee I’d look after Brand.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll see to Brand. Besides, if you get sick, you’ll be useless to the lad. By the looks of you, you’ve ridden hours through the rain.”

Brand woke up once while Savannah was gone. His eyes fell on Nick and he tried to smile but failed. “I’m glad we came back, Captain. I didn’t really want to leave.”

Nick smoothed the dark hair back from the searing heat of the boy’s forehead. “I know, son. I’m glad you returned. You’ll have to get well, though, if you expect to ride Scout again.”

His lids lowered sleepily, then flew up, his eyes troubled. “Where’s Mama? She knows how to make me well when I’m sick.”

“She’s not here right now. But don’t fret, she’ll be here before you know it.”

Satisfied, Brand drifted off.

Sergeant Jones entered the room. “Is there anything I can do, sir? I have children of my own; perhaps I can soothe the little lad.”

“Sit with the boy, Jones, while I question Savannah. If he awakens, spoon some more of this medicine down his throat. I’ll return shortly.”

Nick found Savannah in the kitchen. “Very well, Savannah, out with it. Why did Aimee decide to leave, and where is she?”

“I tried to talk her outta it, Captain, I purely did. But you know how stubborn she can be.”

He did indeed know. “Does Aimee care so little for her son?”

“Aimee is a good mother,” Savannah said defensively.
“If she wasn’t desperate, she wouldn’t have left.”

“Desperate?” Nick’s insides tightened. “In what way? She wasn’t being mistreated.” Savannah’s lips tightened, and she refused to divulge any more information. “You may as well spit it out; I know you’ve got something to say.”

“I know all about you, Yank! You’re de man what ruined my chile. And now you’s forcin’ her to bed with you or go to prison.”

Nick blanched. Put that way, he sounded like a despicable bastard. But it wasn’t that way at all. “I have deep feelings for Aimee, Savannah. I hoped she’d changed her opinion of me.”

“Harumph, that ain’t likely. Not as long as you’s here threatenin’ those she loves.”

Nick looked puzzled. “I’ve threatened no one that I know of.”

“She’s worried that you might—” Suddenly she realized what she was about to divulge and stopped in midsentence. “I ain’t sayin’ no more.”

“Is Aimee worried that I might suddenly realize that Brand is my son? Is that why I’m a threat to her? Does she think I’ll take Brand away from her?”

Savannah sent him a startled glance, then looked away, refusing to answer or acknowledge Nick’s questions. “Look at me, Savannah! I’m right, aren’t I?”

“It ain’t my place to say what’s right or ain’t right. If you’re done with me, I’ll go to Brand now.”

“Not quite, Savannah. Where is Aimee now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did she send Brand back to Tall Oaks?”

“She knew you’d take good care of him for her.”

That admission sent his heart soaring. Aimee thought enough of him to entrust him with the care of her son. “Where is Aimee going?”

“Somewhere behind Confederate lines,” she said after a long pause.

“Does she have a mount?”

“No. No mount, no food, just plain guts. Which is more than you got, Yank. If you love my chile, why didn’t you tell her how you feel instead of beddin’ her and makin’ her feel like a whore?” Lifting her grizzled head at a defiant angle, she brushed past Nick with a twitch of her ragged skirt.

Nick stared after her, his thoughts in a turmoil. Love? Was love the confusing emotion that had been turning him inside out ever since he had arrived at Tall Oaks and found Aimee again? He told Savannah that he cared for Aimee, but in his heart he knew those feelings went deeper and were more firmly entrenched than he had been willing to admit. But how could he love a woman who repeatedly told him she hated him? Though in the many weeks he’d been at Tall Oaks, he had done little to make Aimee love him. She responded to his touch in a way that gave him hope, but he astutely realized he was spinning dreams. Imagining Aimee in love with him was a fantasy that had no place in real life. He was a Yankee, and she hated everything he stood for. And if Brand was truly his son, as he suspected, she had another reason for hating him. He’d planted his seed in her and abandoned her.

“Captain Drummond, come quick!”

A greatly agitated Sergeant Jones stood in the
doorway, motioning to Nick. The man turned abruptly and sprinted up the stairs, Nick in hot pursuit. Nick’s heart pounded against his ribs in a wild tattoo, and the blood froze in his veins. Was it Brand? Had something happened to the lad?

He rushed into the bedroom prepared for the worst. Savannah was bent over the boy, making clucking sounds deep in her throat. She moved aside to make room for Nick as he dropped to his knees beside the bed.

“Oh, God, I thought …” His eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t ever recall weeping since he was a small child the size of Brand. This time, however, his tears were those of gratitude.

Brand’s face was covered in small red eruptions.

“It’s measles, sir; I’d recognize them anywhere,” Sergeant Jones said with a conviction that came from experience. “His whole body is covered with them. Give him a week or two and he’ll be right as rain.”

T
he weight of Aimee’s muddy skirt dragging along the wet earth slowed her down considerably. The misty rain continued, but it barely touched her beneath the dense canopy of tall trees. Her clothes and shoes were thoroughly soaked from her earlier dousing, and she felt the dampness clear to her bones. She shivered, wondering how much farther she had to travel before reaching Confederate lines.

But her discomfort was nothing compared to her concern for Brand. She worried about the illness that had prompted her to send him back to Tall Oaks. Though she hated to admit it, she knew Nick would care for Brand and see that he received proper medical attention. Parting from Brand had wrenched her heart dreadfully, but she had done what she thought was best. Brand’s well-being was Aimee’s paramount concern. She knew Nick wouldn’t harm Brand, that he would care for him and treat him kindly. Savannah would be on hand to make sure he did. Aimee knew that returning to Tall Oaks herself was out of the question.

Nick Drummond had treated her with callous
disdain from the day they first met, bedding her and leaving her with his child in her belly, and now she had become little more to him than his whore. It didn’t help any to realize that she was beginning to care for him when her heart told her she should hate him. The fact that he was a Yank soldier made him despicable in her eyes. If she lost her heart to him, she would hate herself even more than she hated Nick Drummond.

The day wore on as Aimee made her way through the woods. She deliberately avoided the road for fear of meeting another Yankee patrol, and if her estimation was correct, she figured she’d reach Confederate lines soon. When she grew tired, she hunkered down beneath a tree, wrapping her cloak around her and nodding off to sleep almost immediately. The sound of voices brought her abruptly out of a sound sleep.

“Will ya look at that!”

“Purty, ain’t she? What do ya reckon she’s doin’ out here?”

“Who cares? I never was one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

The light in the forest was so muted, all Aimee could see were two dim figures hovering over her. She sat up abruptly, clutching her cloak tightly around her. “Who are you?”

“We could ask ya the same, little lady,” a snickering voice replied.

Suddenly a breeze shifted the leaves of a nearby tree, and a shaft of waning daylight filtered through the branches. Aimee could clearly see two men leering down at her. The ragtag remnants of the uniform they wore were gray, and a thrill shot through her. She had reached Confederate lines!

“You’re Confederate soldiers!”

“Who said?” one of the men asked sullenly.

“Am I close to Confederate lines?” Aimee asked. “Thank God; I was afraid I’d wandered in the wrong direction.”

The men exchanged glances. The taller and younger of the two frowned and said, “We ain’t soldiers no more.”

A warning bell sounded in Aimee’s brain. “I—I don’t understand.”

“The South already done lost the war even though it ain’t official. We ain’t stickin’ around to see the end. There’s more than one way ta make a livin’, and we aim ta get our share of the spoils.”

“You’re deserters!”

“I reckon ya could say that. Me and Cullen been livin’ in these woods fer quite a spell, visitin’ farms and plantations occasionally when our supplies run low. Ain’t that right, Cullen?”

“Right as rain, Rolly,” Cullen agreed. “And we ain’t seen nothin’ like you in a long time.”

Goose bumps skipped along Aimee’s flesh. She had dealt with deserters before, but it was easier with a gun in her hand. This time she had nothing with which to stop them from doing whatever they pleased with her. All she had was words, and her mind worked furiously as she sought a way to make them let her go unharmed.

“I’m a widow; my husband died defending the South.”

“So what?” This from Rolly, who was already picturing Aimee spread beneath him.

“Will you let me go on my way unmolested?”

“We ain’t gonna let her go, are we Rolly?” Cullen
asked, rubbing his crotch in an obscene manner.

“Naw, we ain’t gonna let her go,” Rolly replied, grinning lewdly. “We’re gonna have us our own personal whore, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“No!” Aimee cried, staggering to her feet. “You can’t do that! I’m a Reb just like you are. I’ve been held prisoner by the Yankees and finally managed to escape. Why would you hurt one of your own?”

“This ain’t our war, little lady,” Rolly sneered. “It don’t make me no difference who dies or who lives. The only people this war will benefit is all them rich plantation owners wantin’ to keep their slaves. I ain’t never owned a slave in my life.”

“Me neither,” said Cullen.

“So we figure we might as well get as much outta this war as possible,” continued Rolly.

“Can I have her first?” Cullen asked. “When you get through with them, they ain’t worth much.”

“Ain’t nobody havin’ her yet,” Rolly said. “That Yankee patrol we seen earlier is nearby, and I ain’t takin’ no chances of gettin’ caught. There might even be a Reb patrol in the area. We ain’t too popular these days with Rebs or Yanks.”

“Why don’t you just let me go?” Aimee asked. “I’ll probably be more trouble than I’m worth.”

Rolly laughed, a harsh sound deep in his throat that sent chills down her spine. “Not damn likely. I ain’t had a woman in quite a spell.”

“Not since that little darky we caught hidin’ in the woods,” Cullen recalled, licking his lips. “It’ll be a treat pokin’ a white woman.”

Aimee decided she wasn’t going to hang around
to become a victim. Turning on her heel, she fled into the woods, hoping to lose herself amidst the trees and growing darkness. Gasping for breath, Aimee could hear Rolly and Cullen thrashing through the woods behind her. Panic-stricken, her legs trembling from exhaustion, she searched frantically for a hiding place from the two vile creatures chasing her. She nearly fainted from relief when she saw a huge fallen tree limb that appeared to be hollow. Dropping to her knees, she pushed and squeezed until she was completely encased in the dank, dark hollow space.

Forcing her mind from dwelling on the crawling, creeping creatures inhabiting the rotting limb, Aimee brought her harsh breathing under control. Lying still within the confining darkness was agony for her.

Minutes later Cullen and Rolly passed so close to the fallen limb, she could hear their footsteps. Aimee lay still long after they had passed, fearing to leave her hidden sanctuary lest the men return and find her.

Why had she ever left Nick? she wondered dismally. Whatever made her think she could forget him by leaving him? Why hadn’t she considered the possibility of encountering deserters and low-life scum who preyed on innocent people? Was it her fate to be ravished and killed in the prime of her life when her son still needed her? Aimee thanked God that she had sent Brand back to his father. If he had been captured by these desperate men, they might have killed him outright so as not to be bothered by him. Finally exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a fitful sleep.

*     *     *

Meanwhile, back at Tall Oaks, Nick stared at Brand, so relieved to learn he had merely broken out with measles that he laughed aloud. He had imagined all sorts of terrible diseases the little tyke could have been infected with, and not once had he thought of so common a childhood ailment as measles. Of course, that wasn’t to say that the boy was out of danger. But with the proper care, Nick expected him to recover fully. It had frightened him badly when Savannah had returned to Tall Oaks with Brand, sick and burning with fever. Having concluded that Brand was his son, Nick feared he would lose him before he really had much of a chance to know him.

Nick raked his fingers through his black hair. His displeasure with Aimee was evident in his scowling features. He wanted to wring her neck for endangering the boy. At Tall Oaks he was safe, contented, and well fed. Didn’t Aimee know he’d never let anything happen to the lad? Furthermore, why had she left in the first place? He hadn’t mistreated her; he only wanted to love her, not earn her hatred. Unfortunately the fact that he was a Yankee was enough to earn her hatred. And it hadn’t helped any that he had left her over five years ago with his babe in her belly.