Surrender to the Fury (29 page)

She hated him and his kind for the injustice done to the people of the South.

Savannah had no answer to Aimee’s furious comments. She knew Aimee was right, that it was only a matter of time before they starved to death. And the sad part was that she saw no solution. “I know, chile, I know.”

“I absolutely refuse to stand by and let my loved ones starve!” Aimee spat the words with such vehemence and determination that Savannah was momentarily taken aback.

“What you gonna do, chile?” Savannah was well aware of Aimee’s impetuous nature and had stood helplessly by while Aimee landed in precarious
fixes time and again. She hadn’t been able to stop Aimee the first time she plunged headlong into danger when she became a riverboat gambler, and she feared she’d have no say now in Aimee’s decision.

“I’m going to Atlanta.”

“What for? Ain’t nothin’ dere but burnt-out buildings and Yankees.”

“I’m going to find work.”

“Work! What kind of work? De last word we had from Atlanta was that it was a ghost town, except for de Yanks and a few—” She paused, looked over at Brand, then hissed in Aimee’s ear, “You know, dem places where women pleasure men. Besides, I ain’t certain dat old nag can get you to Atlanta.”

“He’ll get me there, Savannah. If not, I’ll walk. I won’t allow my son to starve. I won’t! Don’t try to dissuade me, for my mind is made up. I’ll leave when the weather clears. Atlanta rarely receives enough snow at one time to hinder traveling.”

“I don’t like it, chile.”

“I see no other solution, Savannah,” Though Aimee’s face was set and her resolve staunch, she felt a certain amount of fear. But she was prepared to do whatever was necessary in order to buy Brand and Savannah food and medicine.

A cold wind shifted debris in the deserted streets as Aimee entered Atlanta. The nag had gotten her here, but Aimee seriously doubted whether he would get her back to Tall Oaks. Since winter, he’d had to forage for food, and had not fared well. His ribs were touching his backbone, each one plainly defined on his skinny carcass.

Few civilians were on the streets, though it was only early afternoon. Aimee tried to ignore the men who ogled her curiously, but found it difficult to disregard the leers she was forced to endure. She had no idea that few women besides whores remained in Atlanta.

To Aimee’s disappointment, she found most of the stores abandoned by their owners. Shopkeepers who remained open for business turned her away with amused laughter when she informed them that she was looking for employment.

“Did Miss Mona turn you out?” one shopkeeper asked pointedly.

“Miss Mona?” Aimee repeated. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know a Miss Mona.”

When the man grinned at her as if he didn’t believe her, Aimee turned and walked away, a puzzled look on her face.

The next shopkeeper was more blunt. “Are you one of Miss Mona’s girls?”

“No, should I be?”

“That depends. You’re pretty enough, but not quite the type I’d expect to find in a—er—house of pleasure. But nowadays it’s the only job available for a female in Atlanta. More than one girl from a good family has ended up working for Miss Mona. Besides, all the civilians have been ordered out of Atlanta.”

Abruptly Aimee turned and made a hasty departure, aware now of the meaning behind the strange looks aimed at her by Yank soldiers on the street. They thought her a whore!

Deep in thought, Aimee led the nag down the street, fearing he’d collapse if she tried to mount him. She shivered as a cold draft crept beneath the
skirt and single petticoat of her threadbare dress, chilling her legs and backside. She led the nag directly toward Yankee headquarters, having asked directions from one of the soldiers she passed in the street. By now all her options were exhausted. Clearly there was no work available for her in Atlanta, and she had no alternative but to ask the Yankees for help. It went deeply against everything she stood for, but her pride was nothing in comparison to the life of her son. Brand needed food and medicine, and if the Yanks wouldn’t supply them, her family would perish.

Squaring her narrow shoulders, Aimee pushed open the door and stepped inside. She welcomed the rush of warmth that greeted her and stood motionless a moment, envying the soldiers who had nothing to do but sit before a fire toasting their backsides. Several moments passed before she was noticed by a corporal sitting at a desk, bent over a sheaf of papers.

“Can I help you, miss?”

Gathering her courage, Aimee said, “I’d like to see the officer in charge.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I’ve just arrived in Atlanta. But the life of a small child depends on my speaking with him.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but Major Tanner is a busy man. Haven’t you heard that all civilians were ordered out of Atlanta? I suggest you return to where you came from.”

“Not before I’ve seen your Major Tanner.” Her chin rose to a defiant angle and her amber eyes narrowed stubbornly. She eyed the closed door to the right of the desk, wondering if she could get past the corporal before being stopped. The two
other men in the room said nothing; they merely ogled her with more than a little curiosity.

She made up her mind instantly, dashing past the corporal and flinging open the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

The corporal was hard on her heels. “I’m sorry, sir. I tried to tell this young lady that you were too busy to see her without an appointment, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Major Tanner glared at Aimee, and she knew instinctively that she’d receive little help from the stern-looking officer. “Very well, Corporal Little, I’ll speak with her.”

Corporal Little nodded and closed the door behind him as he backed out of the room. Major Tanner turned icy blue eyes on Aimee, and she shivered in response.

“Well, young lady, this had better be important. Are you from Miss Mona’s? Or one of the other houses in town?”

Flustered, Aimee stammered, “I—I’m not—not from a house of pleasure. I live with my small son and companion in a slave cabin at Tall Oaks plantation not far from Atlanta. My home was burned by your soldiers on their sweep through Atlanta.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but what has that got to do with me?”

Aimee bristled angrily. “Because of you Yanks, my son is starving! He needs medicine, and there’s no money with which to purchase any.”

Major Tanner had the grace to flush. “If I tried to provide for every family that’s been burned out of their homes, there would be nothing left for my own men. And God knows they have little enough to see them through the winter. These are desperate
times; you’ll just have to survive the best you can. Now, as you can see, I’m busy. Be so good as to leave.”

“You don’t understand! Without proper food and medicine, my son will die. Do you want that on your conscience?”

Tanner looked up at her, and Aimee thought she saw a hint of compassion in his blue eyes. But it lasted only a moment as a curtain seemed to drop over his expression, deliberately blocking out all the horrors of war. “See Miss Mona if you need work. I’ll wager she’ll take you in if you explain your need. If you’re not so inclined, you’d best leave town immediately. It isn’t safe for civilians in Atlanta presently.”

Aimee’s lips tightened into a thin white line. “Where will I find Miss Mona?”

His expression did not soften as he said, “At the end of Peachtree Street. You can’t miss it; it’s the only house on the block left intact.”

Aimee stared at the fence surrounding Miss Mona’s large, rambling house on Peachtree Street. In fact, she couldn’t take her eyes off the fence. It seemed so commonplace and functional in a street where most houses had been destroyed beyond repair. The paint was worn thin in places, and some of the stakes were missing, but it looked so normal amidst chaos that Aimee forgot for a moment exactly why she was standing there staring at an insignificant little fence.

“Well, honey, are you going to come in or just stand out there in the cold all day staring at my fence?”

Aimee started violently, breaking off her contemplation
to look at the woman beckoning to her from the doorway of the house. She was tall and voluptuous, clad quite elegantly in green brocade. She had the most garish shade of orange hair Aimee had ever seen.

Aimee swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you Miss Mona?”

“In person, honey. It’s warmer in the house; would you care to join me?”

Aimee nodded in response, pushed open the gate, and started up the front walk. She hesitated briefly when she reached the door.

“Don’t be shy, honey. You’ve come this far; you might as well come all the way.”

“Yes,” Aimee said as she preceded Miss Mona inside. “Thank you.” She had indeed come this far, and Brand’s welfare was more important to her than her pride. Before she left Tall Oaks, she had made a vow to do whatever was necessary to obtain funds for food and medicine. She intended to keep that vow.

The household was just beginning to stir. As she passed the parlor, Aimee peeked in and saw young women in various degrees of undress talking and laughing with one another as if they hadn’t a care in the world. They returned Aimee’s stare but didn’t appear disturbed to see another woman being introduced into their midst.

“We can talk in the study, honey,” Mona said as she led Aimee to a room down a short hallway from the parlor. Aimee followed her inside and perched nervously on the edge of a chair. Mona didn’t seat herself behind the desk; she merely balanced one hip against the edge and looked down
at Aimee. Her expression was neither critical nor censuring, merely curious.

“What’s your name?”

“Aimee Trevor.”

“Who sent you here?” Mona didn’t believe in beating around the bush.

“No one sent me. I was told you’d give me employment, so I came of my own free will.”

Mona studied Aimee through intelligent eyes neither green nor blue. More like the color of the sea during a storm. “You know, of course, that the women I employ must be willing to pleasure men, don’t you?”

A dull red crept up Aimee’s neck. “I’m aware of what goes on here.”

“Have you worked in a house of prostitution before?”

Aimee’s mouth worked noiselessly until she found the courage to answer. “No.”

“That’s what I thought. You don’t look the type. But you’re willing to do so now?”

“Yes.”

“Obviously my house wasn’t your first choice of work,” Mona observed dryly. “Would you like to tell me what brings you here?”

“I’m in desperate need of money,” Aimee confided. “My home was burned by Yanks, and my son and I are forced to live in slave quarters.”

“What about relatives?”

“We have none. My husband and his parents are dead, and mine have been gone many years. I believe there are some Trevors in France or England, but little good that does me now. I need money immediately to purchase food and medicine. Without them, we won’t survive the winter.”

“And you’re willing to sell yourself in order to buy food for your son.” It wasn’t a question but a comment.

“I’d do anything, even compromise my morals, to save my son from starvation.”

“You look as if you could use a good meal or two yourself,” Mona said, casting a critical eye over Aimee’s thin frame. “My customers like their women plump; they want no reminders of the war going on around them. And your clothes are in deplorable condition. It would probably take several days of grooming before you’re presentable enough to introduce to my clients.”

“Several days! I—I need money now. I could start immediately.

“You wouldn’t last the night,” Mona scoffed. “A half-starved waif like you wouldn’t have the stamina necessary for this kind of work. No, honey, if you want work, you’ll have to let me fatten you up a bit before you can begin. And find you clothes suitable for this profession. Look at your hair; it’s a mess. I have a tradition to uphold; the men who come here expect to find the best, and I’ve never failed them.”

Aimee wrung her hands. “What can I do? I need the money now.”

Mona’s expression softened. She was not nearly as heartless as one might expect from a woman of her calling. She had once been in the same position as Aimee, and wouldn’t have made it this far in life without a helping hand.

“I can loan you the money, honey, though I doubt you’d find food for sale anywhere in Atlanta.”

“But how do you survive if no food is available? All your girls look healthy and well fed.”

“Of course. The Federals see that I receive food and medicines necessary to keep my girls in good health. We’re essential to the well-being of their troops.”

Aimee flushed, embarrassed by Mona’s frank words but determined to persevere.

“Tell you what, honey. I’ll give you what food I can spare, and you can pay me from your first earnings.”

“You’d do that for me? How do you know you can trust me to return once I leave here?”

Mona’s steady gaze did not waver. “I just know. I’ll even loan you a horse to carry you back to your home. Your nag looked done in. You can leave in the morning. I’ll expect you back before dark. Is it a deal?”

Not only was Mona keenly perceptive when it came to judging character, but she was an excellent businesswoman. She saw Aimee’s potential, saw through her gauntness to the fragile beauty concealed beneath the unattractive dress she wore. Mona knew at a glance that Aimee Trevor possessed an innate beauty and vulnerability that men found endearing. She fully expected Aimee to become a favorite among her clients and earn more than enough money to compensate her for the loan.

Aimee swallowed several times before she could reply. She knew that once given, her word was inviolate. Just as she had once risked her honor on a game of cards and paid in a way that changed her life forever, she must be prepared now to compromise
her morals if she accepted Mona’s generous offer.

Her pride for the life of her son. There was no contest. It was a small thing to surrender when so much was at stake.

“It’s a deal, Miss Mona. If you provide me with provisions to last several weeks, I’ll take them to Tall Oaks and return immediately, fully prepared to fulfill my duty to you. You may take the cost out of my earnings.”