Surrender to the Fury (26 page)

“Nick gave me money, Savannah. One of us can hitch the old horse to the wagon and go to Atlanta. I hope there’s still food to be bought in the city.”

“I’ll go,” Savannah offered. “You already proved it ain’t safe to go traipsin’ over the countryside by yourself.”

“It’s not safe for you, either.”

“I’m an old colored woman; no one’s likely to bother me. I’ll leave tomorrow mornin’.”

That settled, Aimee began slicing fatback. Brand came down a short time later, famished as usual. He made a face at the mush but managed to wolf down his portion before Aimee shooed him outside to play. It was nearly noon before Nick stirred himself and came downstairs. Aimee was nearly beside herself with excitement. There was nothing stopping her now from telling Nick about Brand. Savannah astutely sensed her mood and left the kitchen, offering to do some hunting. She took the shotgun from the corner and promptly left.

“I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” Nick said, sliding into place at the oak table. “Or fall asleep so quickly last night.”

“You needed the rest.”

“I’m fully awake now and ready to listen to what we never got around to discussing last night.”

Aimee dished out his portion of mush and fatback and took a seat across from him.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I’ve already eaten,” Aimee insisted. She had allowed herself a bite or two of mush but little else.

“Why don’t I believe you? You’re far too thin to have been eating regularly. Here.” He shoved half his portion into a saucer and placed it in front of her. “I’m not very hungry this morning.”

Aimee picked at the mush, not really tasting it. She had far more important things on her mind. “Nick, about Brand …”

Nick searched her face. She had his full attention now. “What about Brand, Aimee? Is he my son?”

“Mama, Nick, someone’s coming up the driveway!” Brand burst through the door into the kitchen.

“Oh, God,” Nick said, leaping to his feet. “Not again.”

“What did you see, son?” Aimee said. Were the Yanks coming again to burn her house?

“They’re Yanks, Mama. But that’s not all; there’s a carriage, too.”

Aimee and Nick exchanged glances. “Perhaps they’ve come for you from Atlanta,” Aimee suggested.

“Perhaps, but I’m not taking any chances. I must be getting careless. I left my weapon upstairs.”

“I’ll get it,” Aimee offered, realizing she could make the trip upstairs and back much faster than Nick. She turned and raced from the room.

Nick walked through the house to the front door, stepping out on the porch just as the group of six Union soldiers escorting a rather grand carriage halted before the steps. Nick knew immediately
he’d have no need for his weapon, for these men were from his own company, including Sergeant Jones. Then the door to the carriage was flung open and a vivacious redhead appeared in the opening. She spied Nick standing on the porch, and a wide smile spread over her lovely features.

“Nick! Thank God you’re all right!”

Daintily raising her skirts to reveal a pair of well-turned ankles, she held out her hand. Two privates leaped forward to help her alight. His mouth gaping, too stunned to move, Nick watched in a daze as the woman glided toward him.

“Regina! What are you doing here?”

While the men stood by grinning foolishly, Regina Blakewell reached Nick and flung her arms around his neck. Nick had no recourse but to embrace her in order to keep them both upright.

“I accompanied Father to Atlanta and just recently learned you were wounded. When Father found out you were at Tall Oaks plantation and that you were to be brought to the hospital in Atlanta, I offered to come along and see to your welfare. I’m quite knowledgeable about nursing, you know. I’ve performed many hours of volunteer work at the hospital in Washington.”

Aimee chose that unfortunate moment to burst from the house, Nick’s gun in hand, ready to defend her home and family.

Nick did not see her. To Aimee it appeared that Nick was too involved with embracing the curvaceous redhead to pay heed to anyone or anything. He was holding her so tenderly, gazing at her with such dazed passion, that she felt as though she was intruding upon a very private moment. It
wasn’t until Sergeant Jones cleared his throat that the couple remembered that they weren’t alone. Abruptly Nick pulled away, carefully removing Regina’s arms from around his neck.

“You shouldn’t have come, Regina. There was no need.”

“No need? Of course there was a need. You’re my fiancé; we’re going to be married when this wretched war is over.”

Aimee stood absolutely still, too stunned to move, too hurt to speak. How could Nick have made love to her with such passion if he had a fiancée waiting for him up North? How could he not have told her? Was he only pretending to care for her in order to take her son from her once she admitted he was Brand’s father? Her first impression of him had been correct. He was a cheat and a scoundrel. A man who could leave a woman broke and pregnant without a thought to her welfare.

A total bastard.

A Yankee.

The man didn’t deserve a son like Brand. Thank God she hadn’t told him the truth yet.

Suddenly Regina noticed Aimee standing behind Nick, and her blue eyes widened as she took careful note of her threadbare dress and painfully thin figure. It was obvious from her contemptuous expression that she thought Aimee unworthy of her attention.

“Is that the widow who has been caring for you? Papa said a woman had taken you from the field hospital. I wondered why she had been allowed to do so. I must admit I was worried that your affections had tuned from me, but now that I’ve seen
her, I realize I had nothing to worry about.” She turned her brilliant blue gaze back to Nick. “You look wonderful for a man so close to death.”

Nick turned slowly, fearing the damage Regina might have done to the fragile relationship blossoming between him and Aimee. He groaned when he noted the bleak expression in her amber eyes. Why hadn’t he told Aimee he was engaged to Regina? he wondered regretfully. At first, before Aimee had come to mean so much to him, he saw no need to reveal his private life. And later, he hoped to be able to tell Regina in person that their engagement was a mistake. It was Aimee he loved, always Aimee. But now, Regina showing up was the worst possible thing that could happen at the worst possible time.

“Aimee.” His green eyes dimmed with remorse. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Regina asked. Her narrow gaze slid over Aimee, then back to Nick. “Is there something between you and this—this dismal creature that I should know about?”

Aimee bristled indignantly. At one time she had dressed every bit as fashionably as Nick’s fiancée. “Nothing that matters.” Her flippant remark made Nick wince.

“Perhaps we should go inside,” Nick suggested, “where we can speak in private.”

Without waiting for a reply, he led the way into the kitchen. Suddenly weary, he sank down heavily into the nearest chair. Aimee and Regina stood over him, glaring at each other.

“Aimee, this is Regina Blakewell. She is—was—my fiancée.”

R
egina bristled indignantly. “This is the first I’ve heard of a broken engagement.”

“I intended to write, Regina, though I would have preferred to tell you in person. Truth to tell, I had no idea where you were. You accompany your father on all his assignments, and I had no idea how a letter could reach you.”

“You are breaking our engagement for this—this person?” She thrust a hand in Aimee’s direction, obviously unimpressed by what she saw.

“Definitely not,” Aimee interjected. “There has never been any indication of love or marriage between Nick and myself. We met five years ago. I hated him then and I hate him now.”

Regina’s brow cleared immediately. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought. Evidently Nick wasn’t enamored of the woman.

Nick sucked in his breath and let it out slowly in a long, painful sigh.

“Then I see no problem,” Regina proclaimed. “Are you ready to leave, darling? Father is waiting anxiously in Atlanta for us. I wouldn’t be remiss in saying there’s a promotion waiting for you.”

Suddenly Savannah burst through the back
door, the shotgun in one hand, two rabbits in another. “Who are dem Yanks, honey? What do dey want?”

“It’s all right, Savannah,” Aimee said quietly. “They’ve come for Nick.”

“Where’s Brand?”

“He’s with Sergeant Jones,” Nick answered. “No harm will come to him.”

“Who’s dat?” Savannah asked, motioning toward Regina with the gun.

“Don’t point that thing at me,” Regina warned indignantly.

“The lady is Nick’s financée,” Aimee said before Nick had a chance to reply.

Savannah regarded Nick with the intensity of her black eyes. “I declare, if dat don’t beat all.” Realizing she was intruding, she said, “I’d best skin dese rabbits.” Then she turned and stomped out the door, but not before sending Nick a look that left no doubt about her opinion of him.

Reluctantly Nick realized he had no choice but to leave Tall Oaks with Regina and the escort sent on his behalf. It was a miracle that he had been allowed to remain this long. He knew he still had many long weeks of recuperation before he was fit enough to return to duty, and he desperately wished he could have stayed at Tall Oaks with Aimee and Brand while he regained his strength. Regina’s arrival had been completely unexpected and unwelcomed. Nick knew by the stubborn set of Aimee’s chin and her unrelenting stance that she had been hurt, and he couldn’t blame her. He should have told her about Regina and explained that once he found Aimee again, he had no intention
of marrying the general’s spoiled daughter. Aimee and his son were all that mattered now.

“Regina, please wait outside; I’d like to speak to Aimee in private.”

“There’s no need for private words, Nick,” Aimee said. Her voice was flat, her face devoid of all emotion. “We’ve already said all there is to say.”

“Please, Aimee. There is still something between us that needs clarifying.”

“I can’t imagine what it is.”

“You heard her, Nick, there’s nothing more to gain by remaining here,” Regina said, placing her hand possessively on Nick’s shoulder. “There will be proper doctors where you’re going who will supervise your recovery.”

Nick shrugged her hand away. “I asked you to wait in the carriage, Regina.” His voice was implacable, his green eyes cold and remorseless. Regina glared at Aimee, gave a careless shrug, and walked out the door.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Aimee said in an accusatory tone. “Do you enjoy hurting women?”

“I never meant to hurt anyone, Aimee. I realize it was remiss of me not to write Regina of my intention to break our engagement, but these are precarious times, and it isn’t always convenient to do what one wishes.”

“You could have told me you were engaged to be married.”

“Would it have made any difference? We were destined to be together, sweetheart; it’s as simple as that.”

“It isn’t simple at all, Nick,” Aimee returned shortly. “You’ve just proven that my original opinion
of you was correct. You’re a cheat, a liar, and a womanizer. The sooner you get out of my life, the better off I’ll be.”

Nick paled. “You don’t mean that.”

“Every word. I suggest you not keep your fiancée waiting.”

Nick rose painfully to his feet. “What about Brand?”

“What about him?”

“It’s time you admitted he’s my son.”

“I can’t admit something that’s not true.”

“Dammit to hell! I
know
Brand is my son. I can feel it in my gut. I want him, Aimee; I want to raise my son. I want him to know his real father. He’s at an impressionable age where he needs a man’s influence.”

“Perhaps one day I’ll remarry,” Aimee said, hoping to hurt Nick in the same way he had hurt her. “And Brand will have a father. But if I do marry, it will be to a man nothing like you.”

Nick leaped to his feet, groaning as shards of pain stabbed through his body. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he struggled to control his body’s weakness. Aimee’s first inclination was to rush to him and offer comfort, but she held her ground, refusing to fall victim to his wiles again. He was slick and practiced in the art of seduction; she had learned that the hard way. Not once in all these weeks had he mentioned a fiancée.

“You’re mine, Aimee; you were always mine,” Nick gasped as he fought the remorseless pain. “Since I never intended to marry Regina once I came to care about you, I saw no need to mention her.”

“Your lack of consideration appalls me. Please leave, Nick; your escort awaits.”

He grasped her arm before she could turn away, his grip strong despite his obvious physical limitations. “I won’t leave like this, Aimee.”

“You have no choice.”

“Damn you!”

“No, Nick, damn you! You never wanted me. I was just a means to an end. You’d do anything to get me to admit Brand is your son. Well, you can’t have him. Brand is mine. I’m sure Regina will give you several sons, so you don’t need mine.”

Nick shook his head sadly, wearily. Fatigue etched deep lines around his eyes and mouth, but Aimee hardened her heart.

“You’re mistaken if you think all I want is Brand. It’s true I’ve come to love the boy, but what I feel for you is—”

“Lust.”

She tried to shake free of his grip, but he was too strong for her. He pulled her closer, closer still, until their faces were inches apart. “Perhaps that was true at first, but lust has nothing to do with my feelings now. I have to leave whether I want to or not, but you’ve not seen the last of me. I’ll make Regina understand that marriage between us is out of the question.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Oh, Nick, why couldn’t you have confided in me? Why couldn’t you have loved me?

Then he was kissing her, his mouth slanting over hers in almost desperate need. He kissed her long and deep, trying to convey all that she had come to mean to him in that one last kiss. He forced his tongue past the barrier of her teeth, savoring
her taste, her scent, her warmth, stroking her back and hips, painfully aware of the fragile bones beneath her thinness. When he broke off the kiss, they were both panting. Aimee backed away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, but it didn’t help; the special essence that was Nick was etched upon her brain forever.