The Colonel's Lady (29 page)

27

With the cabin door ajar, Roxanna could hear the spring peepers, something she’d always considered a happy sound, heralding humid days and honeysuckle-scented nights and summer’s return. But today hadn’t been full of fine things, just military discipline and endless drills that bespoke Liam McLinn and the coming confrontation in the middle ground. Cass hadn’t returned after the court-martial that morning, sending an orderly to tell her she was no longer needed, as he’d be busy with maneuvers.

Strangely, the dismissal had wounded her to the very core, and she felt herself sliding further toward melancholy. She knew he was trying to avoid her. Since he’d told her about her father, she sensed his deep distress and sorrow in their every exchange, perfunctory as they were. Yet his remorse failed to cool her turbulent feelings. They trailed after her, destroying the sweetness they’d once shared, reinforcing the fact that she was naught but a bitter spinster, after all. Heavy-hearted, she escaped to her garden in the tepid sunshine under guard, the wide, empty river yet another reminder of her predicament.

Now at day’s end, she sat and listened to the thwack of a bat on the parade ground as some of the men played base-ball, her fingers almost frantically working her yarn as she knitted more socks. Supper was over and she’d hardly eaten a bite, aware of the Redstone women’s eyes on her as she pushed her cornbread and beans around her plate. But it was Bella she worried about, sharp eyed and sharper tongued. It was only a matter of time before Bella began poking around, asking questions she couldn’t answer.

“Miz Roxanna, can I come in?” Dovie stood in the doorway, her growing bulk half hidden beneath her hands.

“Yes—please,” she said, forcing lightness into her tone. “I’m tired of knitting and would love some company.”

Dovie looked about shyly. Most of the time Roxanna came to visit her. “Johnny’s playin’ ball on the common, and I’m restless as can be. Since we can’t walk out with the Indian threat on, I figured I’d talk to you.”

Roxanna got up. “Would you like a cup of tea? I have some raspberry leaves if you need them.”

“I ain’t feelin’ poorly no longer. But sassafras would suit me fine.” Drawing nearer the hearth, she began working the edge of her apron a bit nervously, eyeing Roxanna as she hung a kettle from the crane.

Roxanna tried to smile, spying a shard from the thistle cup beneath one of the hearth’s dog irons. The sight tore at her, and she worked to keep her tone light. “I think motherhood suits you.”

Truly, Dovie looked lovely. Her new dress was becomingly cut, and her face held a luminousness Roxanna hadn’t noticed, eclipsing the hardness of before. “This baby’s got a mind of its own, let me tell you. But I ain’t here to talk about me, Miz Roxanna.”

The telling words nearly made Roxanna drop the tin of tea. Someone was whispering about her and Cass, then. What else could it be?

Setting two cups on the table, she said casually, “Not me, surely?”

Dovie perched on the edge of her chair. “I ain’t one for fancy talk, so I’ll just say it simple. Me and the other women noticed you ain’t been yourself lately. I know you’re still missin’ your pa and all, so I’ve been prayin’ for you.”

Roxanna added sassafras roots to the kettle through a haze of tears. “I appreciate your prayers, Dovie, more than you know.”

“Well, there’s a man who’s wantin’ to meet you. He’s a friend of Johnny’s. One of the regulars.” Roxanna looked at her in surprise, and she hurried on. “Now I know he ain’t an officer or anything—”

“Rank doesn’t matter to me, Dovie.”

She nodded. “That’s what I thought you’d say. His name’s Graham. Graham Greer.”

Graham.
Roxanna liked the sound of it, feeling flattered in the wake of being deceived by Cass. She poured steaming water into the waiting cups. “He’s the man who married you, am I right?”

Dovie nodded. “He’s not been here long but comes from Fairfax County, same as you. He has a farm there but joined the army after his wife died last year. He’s a believer too. And he says he’s goin’ to ask Colonel McLinn about holdin’ Sabbath services.”

Truly? The mere mention buoyed her spirits. She’d often wished for a preacher since coming to Kentucke, thinking the fort needed a civilizing—
saving—
influence. Contemplating it, she passed Dovie the cup.

“Right now he’s busy helpin’ out in the infirmary. There’s a passel of men down with a fever and Dr. Clary’s tied up.”

They sipped their tea in silence, Roxanna wondering if Dovie was happy with Johnny but reluctant to ask her outright. It wasn’t easy living in a garrison with little privacy and less cleanliness. Roxanna craved the comforts of the stone house like she’d been born to it, and even now her thoughts turned traitorously to the hill.

“Miz Roxanna, I don’t know how to ask you this, but there’s a rumor goin’ round . . .” She shifted in her chair, and a rare tinge of pink touched her cheeks. “It’s about you and the colonel. The colonel, anyway. Some folks are sayin’ he’s . . .”

Ashamed to look at her, Roxanna fastened her eyes on her cup.

“He’s smitten with you. Graham told me real quiet-like that he’s a bit afraid of Colonel McLinn and don’t want no trouble where he’s concerned.”

Taking a swallow of tea, Roxanna tried to collect her scattered thoughts. “Dovie, you know what happened to my father.” She paused, the loss keener now than it had ever been. Somehow knowing the whole truth only made it doubly difficult. “Before he died, he asked Ca—Colonel McLinn to look after me. Any attention he pays me is simply out of respect for my father.”

Dovie nodded, looking more satisfied than Roxanna felt. “That explains it, sure enough.”

“Naw it don’t.” Bella’s voice seemed to boom from the open doorway, holding a challenge if Roxanna ever heard one. She wanted to wince but made herself turn and greet her with what little composure she had left.

Bella drew up a stool and sat, arms crossed. “It ain’t got nothin’ to do with your pa and you know it. And I know it. And anyone with half a head knows it.”

“Bella, please.” The tears burning Roxanna’s eyes reinforced her plea.

Dovie suddenly stood, her tea unfinished. “I’d best be goin’, ” she murmured. “Lately the baby’s been makin’ me awful tired . . .”

Cradling her warm cup and breathing in the sweet scent of sassafras, Roxanna heard Dovie shut the door as she went out. Across from her, Bella’s countenance softened, but it did nothing to ease the sting of her harsh words, or the frank ones she uttered next.

“That man is in love with you, Roxanna Rowan. Why don’t you see it?” Roxanna said nothing, eyes averted, as Bella continued in hushed tones. “Hank says he ain’t had a drop of liquor since you left the other night.”

Hearing it brought a warm rush of surprise.
Not a drop?
Those were her exact words to Cass. Yet she’d lost the game, not he. She hardly expected him to honor her request, particularly in light of his confession. If he’d ever needed reason to drink, ’twas now. With forced calm, she simply said, “Colonel McLinn is a complicated man.”

“And
you
,” Bella replied, “is a complicated woman.” She opened her mouth to say more, and Roxanna tensed.

Don’t ask me about Saturday night, Bella. I don’t want to lie to you.

“You look sorta flushed. You ain’t comin’ down with that fever, I hope.” Bella reached out a hand and palmed her forehead, coming away with a
tsk
. “If you get sick again, the colonel will be beside hisself, for sure.”

“I’m not sick,” Roxanna said, though she felt it.

Bella’s sharp eyes remained on her face. “I guess Dovie told you ’bout Graham.”

Roxanna nodded. “I think she’s trying to do a little matchmaking.”

“Law, least we agree ’bout that. You need to be married and have you a husband and a lap baby and all the rest. But you can forget ’bout Graham. He’s still grievin’, and he ain’t the caliber of the colonel nohow. It’s McLinn who needs to wed you and bed you and give you that baby—”

“Bella!”

“
And
,” she said with vehemence, “it’s
you
who needs to open your eyes to the truth and let ’im.” A slow, satisfied smile settled over Bella’s face. “There ain’t a problem with either one of you that a whole lot of lovin’ can’t cure.”

Roxanna took a measured breath and tried to steady her voice. “Colonel McLinn is far above my humble station. He has never declared his love for me and he never will. I’m merely a distraction in a fort full of men. Besides, the army is going to war in the middle ground soon, as you well know. That’s hardly conducive to marrying and having babies.”

“Oh, but it is,” Bella breathed. “The stone house is beggin’ for a weddin’ and honeymoon. It would be a fine send-off for a soldier, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Roxanna said with sudden spark. Setting her cup aside, she looked Bella straight in the eye, finding anger far preferable to tears. “I want you to put down any such nonsense. And if you hear the like, try to stop it. Colonel McLinn is under tremendous strain preparing for this campaign. I’ll not add to it and neither should you.”

All the levity left Bella’s face. Roxanna looked away, hardly believing she was defending Cass.

Folding her arms, Bella drawled quietly, “McLinn ain’t the onliest one under strain. You won’t hardly eat or talk here lately. What’s come over you?”

Feeling all thumbs, Roxanna got up and began putting the tea things away, afraid Bella would notice the missing thistle cup. “’Tis the same as it’s ever been. I’m homeless and husbandless. My family—what little I have left—is an ocean away. I have but my scrivener’s pay, and I can’t leave this place. The British and Indians are nearly at our door. Can you blame me for not being hungry or talkative?”

With a sage look, Bella’s eyes swept over her. “Naw, but I think your trouble goes deeper.”

With that, she got up and went out. Roxanna nearly went after her to apologize for speaking so harshly, but weariness stopped her at the door. Daylight was dwindling, and she looked past the men playing ball to the house on the hill.

Oh, Lord, You ask too much of me. Please provide a way of escape. I cannot bear the burden of being here any longer.

“Miss Rowan?”

Roxanna exited blockhouse headquarters and stepped into the path of a sturdy-looking man in fatigue dress. She had seen him before but hadn’t paid him any particular mind. Now she looked at him—truly looked at him—for the first time, a tremor of self-consciousness sweeping through her.

“The name’s Greer, Miss Rowan. Graham Greer. I was hoping to see the colonel.”

She tried to smile, remembering Dovie’s plea. “Colonel McLinn is outside fort walls on maneuvers with his men.” Truly, she’d hardly seen him the last fortnight or so. She studiously avoided him—and he seemed to be avoiding her, though she knew the coming campaign consumed all his energies. When he was within fort walls, he was always surrounded by his officers.

His hazel eyes registered uncertainty. “Since tomorrow is the Sabbath, I thought I might hold a service, see if anyone wants to come.”

Her beleaguered heart warmed to the unexpected words. She stepped out from under the cool eave into the spring sunlight. “A Sabbath service sounds fine.”