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Authors: Kaylea Cross

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BOOK: The Vacant Chair
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“Yes, but the war’s over.” She fought a wave of panic. Denial screamed in her head.

Justin shook his head and looked at her. “They’re making us serve the whole enlistment.” His eyes were weary, sad. “Grant’s sending us out tonight.”

Tonight? She shot off the bed and paced, rubbed her hands up and down her chilled arms because she didn’t know what else to do besides start screaming.
Oh God, oh God, oh God

“Bree,” he said softly.

She shook her head, kept moving. She didn’t want to hear any more. Couldn’t look at him for fear she’d crumple into a ball and howl like a madwoman. This war had cost them both so much. She’d lost a husband she’d loved with everything she had, her father, her home. She’d endured the horrors of the hospitals to lend comfort where she could, and finally met Justin. For almost an entire year she’d prayed for him to return safely to her. She’d agonized about his safety, worn herself out worrying about him. Half starved herself to be close to her brother. Traveled hundreds of miles through snow and rain and mud for the chance to see Justin.

And what of his sacrifices? He’d held his dying brother in his arms, lost friends, and in all ways that mattered, had lost his mother as well.

They’d borne all of that. And now he was being sent to a different front? One he hadn’t signed on for?

“Angel, look at me.”

She stopped with her back to him and closed her eyes. Counted to ten, forced her choppy breathing under control. He was disheartened enough. She could hear it in the husky timbre of his voice. He didn’t need her adding to his misery with her own. As soon as she trusted herself not to break down, she faced him. The torment in his eyes almost did her in.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Justin came to her, took hold of her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

Despite her vow, her eyes filled.
He
was sorry? None of this was his fault. She was devastated for him. Terrified for him. Fighting Indians in the middle of nowhere? The Union cavalry couldn’t possibly be prepared for that. So why would the army send them? She wrapped her arms around his back and absorbed his heavy sigh. Her tears dripped onto his uniform coat. A sob shuddered through her. “No.
No
.”

“God.” His arms tightened protectively. “Bree…”

She forced herself to calm down, took another shaky breath. “H-how long?”

“Until the three years are up.”

She lost it. Completely lost control. To have him home safe and sound after everything they’d endured, only to have him torn away for
this,
was an unspeakable cruelty.
Why?
she wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair. Why him? How could she bear this?

“Ah, damn. I know,” he said against the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

She couldn’t speak, only cried harder. He held her through the torrent, murmuring soft things, stroking her back until she lifted her head with a soggy sniff. A few more hours together. That’s all they had left. She wiped her face. “S-sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re entitled.” He let out a ragged sigh and steered her over to the bed, where they sat next to each other again and stared into the flames burning low in the fireplace. “This is going to kill the boys,” he said finally.

“They don’t know yet?”

“No. They still think they’re going home.”

Oh, God, this was so awful.

“You can imagine what this is going to do to the brigade’s morale.”

It would destroy it. “Isn’t there something that can be done?”

“I wish there were. I’ve already tried everything I know of.”

Brianna didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to make it worse for him—she’d already broken down and added to his burden. She hated feeling so helpless. “Is there anything I can do?”

His smile was so sad it almost broke her heart. “No, but damn, I hate having to leave you again.”

Of course he would be thinking of her instead of himself, even though he was being sent to the frontier to fight an unknown, savage enemy. She slid her arms around him and urged him to lie down beside her. Curled up against his side, she searched for words of comfort. He needed to see her strong right now, and she needed to prove he didn’t have to worry about her while he was away. Her fingers smoothed his silky hair. “We’ve weathered the storm this far. We can make it through anything now.”

A wry smile touched his lips. “Spoken like a brave cavalry wife.”

“Well, that’s what I am. And I can take care of myself. You concentrate on coming home safely, and that’s all.”

He kissed her temple. “Yes, ma’am.”

She’d run out of words now. Had nothing left to say that might help or comfort either of them, and his introspective silence said the same for him. They probably had less than eight hours together.

She wasn’t going to waste another moment of it.

Coming up on one elbow, she cupped the side of his face. He met her gaze, his eyes delving into hers. His warm scent reached out to her, a mix of soap and spices. Leaning down, she pressed him onto his back and kissed him. He allowed her to take the lead, though she could feel the coiled tension in his body, ready to unleash his need on her.

Her tongue touched his, gliding over it in a silky caress. She drew it out, keeping control until she had him breathing hard, his hands buried in her hair. Satisfied that he was now thinking of nothing but burying himself inside her, she undressed them both and kissed his naked chest, the rigid muscles in his belly, lower to rub her cheek against the scalding-hot length of his erection.

“Bree.” His voice was low, almost a growl.

She looked up at him, parting her lips to let the tip of her tongue flick at the tender underside of his cock. Justin stared down at her with smoldering eyes, his jaw clenched. She knew how much he loved this. Tasting him lightly, she hummed in enjoyment before opening her lips to take him deep into her mouth. He hissed and grabbed her hair with a choked moan, arching in ecstasy. She swirled her tongue leisurely around the swollen head, savoring the bursting heat and salty flavor of him.

“Right there,” he murmured. His long fingers tightened in her hair with a delicious tug, holding her in place. “So good, angel.”

In answer, Brianna sucked him deeper until he was helpless beneath her. His muscles drew rigid with strain, and an agonized moan tore from him. Knowing he was close, she reluctantly released him with one last luxurious pull of her mouth, a lascivious swirl of her tongue. She crawled back up his body to take his mouth, and straddled him. His hands cupped her breasts and teased her aching nipples while his tongue slid against hers. Breaking the kiss to stare into his eyes, she finally eased down and took him inside her body. Her head tipped back at the feel of him stretching and filling her. Justin’s deep groan reverberated in the air around them.

He held her hips while she rode him slow and sweet, and stared up at her with desperate longing. His throat moved as he swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “Love me, Bree.”

Bittersweet pain filled her chest. “Always and forever,” she whispered and leaned down to seal their mouths together, riding him a little faster.

His tormented growl echoed inside her heart. Loving him this way was so much stronger than words. The melding of breath and flesh, experiencing each gasp and sigh, each muted sound of pleasure as she gave herself to him, body and soul. He reached a hand between them to stroke over her slick flesh where their bodies joined, and in seconds the first wave of her orgasm rolled through her. Justin peaked moments later with a massive shudder and a harsh shout. The whole time she stared into his eyes, their love shining bright as the sun through the gloom of their sadness.

Held in the protection of his arms afterward, she searched for something that would lighten his burden. Forcing a smile, she passed a hand over his stubbled cheek. “Well, there’s one good thing about this.”

One coal-black brow arched upward. “What’s that?”

“Just imagine the homecoming you’ll get next time.”

He gave a gruff chuckle against her temple and held her tight against his heart.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Fort Leavenworth, KS

June 5
th
, 1865

 

In light of their unexpected orders, Justin had known keeping morale up would be hard, but even he would never have guessed how miserable the men were out here. They’d lost some of them to desertion after stopping at St. Louis, and taking the precaution of mooring away from the dock hadn’t done a damned thing to stave off would-be deserters. Several troopers were so incensed by their forced service that they’d actually attacked the officers put in charge of keeping them on board the transport steamers and thrown them into the river. Most of those who’d jumped in and swam to shore were never seen again, and the remainder of the wretched men had steamed onward when the ship pulled out.

Making landfall, they rode to Fort Leavenworth, a speck of civilization in a dusty sea of prairie. Everyone was thoroughly demoralized, knowing that beyond the perimeter of the fort, postings on an endless plain awaited them, along with the threat of attacks from hostile natives. Several of the high-ranking officers had given speeches to try and boost the mood of the command.

A wasted effort. Any headway they’d gained had been crushed when the powers in Washington announced the regiments would be split up from one another to serve in different commands. To Justin, it was the final insult in this whole debacle. Truly it was a wonder they hadn’t had a full-out armed mutiny on their hands yet.

He pulled off his hat to wipe his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. It came away coated with grime. It was as dusty out here as it had been that day at Cold Harbor, he reflected, glancing behind him to where Williams sulked in his saddle. His wife was expecting their first child any day, and he wasn’t going to be there. Justin wasn’t happy either. Brianna had chosen to go home to Lexington. Morgan’s regiment had been mustered out at the end of the war, so at least she had her brother there while she was again forced to endure this long separation. Justin had sent Boy-o to Greenbriar as a surprise to her, because the loyal horse had done his duty and shouldn’t have to serve this latest term of service just because Justin wasn’t as fortunate. He hoped the gesture would make Brianna smile.

His new mount was a flighty thing, but for now he had no choice but to work with it. If it didn’t shape up in a week or two though, he’d have to find another one. He couldn’t fight anything with a horse that wouldn’t stay put, let alone a tribe of incensed Indians. He got the feeling the horse hated this duty as much as he did. The gelding always had its ears back when anyone came close. He wasn’t sure if the crop marks scarring its rump had come before the bad attitude, or after.

They traveled a mile or two farther, and when a ribbon of blue stream appeared in the distance, he rode for it and called a halt. The men dismounted with weary groans and stretched their legs. Some pulled off their boots to dangle their feet in the water while the horses drank, others stripping down and wading in to find relief from the broiling sun. Justin squatted down on the bank and held the reins as his horse drank the cool water between its teeth with a loud sucking noise.

Williams sat next to him with a heavy sigh. “When do you figure they’ll send us out there?” He indicated the prairie with a jerk of his chin.

“In a few days, probably.”

The lieutenant shook his head. “I keep hoping this has all been a mistake.” He raised his brown gaze to Justin. “That someone will come to their senses and send us home.”

“You think the brass in Washington have senses?”

He laughed. “I suppose you’re right—”

Justin’s horse jerked its head and let out a shrill cry, its ears pressed back and the whites of its eyes showing.

Justin grabbed the reins tighter and leaped to his feet with Williams. “Easy,” he said in a low voice, searching the ground for whatever had frightened the knot-headed animal.

“Snake,” Williams blurted, backing away and pointing to a spot in the grass beside the horse.

The animal shrieked and reared up on its hind hooves. Justin dropped the reins in case it bolted and dragged him along with it. He hadn’t survived the damned war to be killed by a terrified horse.

The snake raised its head and a distinctive rattle sounded, coiled and ready to strike. Justin froze. One wrong move and he’d either get bitten or trampled by his horse.

He stared at the ugly diamond-shaped head and beady black eyes. His hand went to his sidearm. The snake’s black forked tongue darted out, a menacing hissing sound blending with the rattle.
Shit
. His horse was going to have a fit. Even as he thought it, a shrill whinny split the air.

“Don’t move, Major,” one of the men down the bank called, leveling his pistol at it.

“Christ, don’t shoot it,” he growled, knowing his horse would go berserk. “Just get the damn horse—”

His mount let out a scream and bucked wildly, its hooves scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the bank when its forelegs landed. Justin lunged backward to get the hell out of the way of the thrashing hooves. He wasn’t fast enough.

“Look out, sir!”

A hoof caught him in the shoulder and sent him flying. Pain fractured through him at the impact. He hit the ground hard and brought his arms up in a futile effort to shield himself from more blows.

Hands grabbed at the back of his uniform, trying to pull him clear. He looked over in time to see the snake strike. He jerked back in reflex, falling away from the friendly hands just as a shot rang out.

A blaze of pain exploded as the bullet struck and threw him headlong into the water.

 

****

 

Lexington, VA

June 9, 1865

 

The trip home to Kentucky passed in a gloomy blur. No matter how hard Brianna tried to keep a lid on her emotions, the sadness overwhelmed her in a black tide and sucked her under, far out into that dark sea.

Standing on the platform with a forced, bright smile as Justin’s train pulled away was somehow harder than seeing him off during the war. The thought of him out on the barren plains fighting against an enemy they had no experience with scared her to death. Her mind kept recalling each gruesome detail of every Indian attack she’d read about in the papers. Arrows. Scalpings. Mutilated bodies. How on earth was a cavalry brigade that had been trained to engage an enemy with conventional weapons and tactics supposed to fight such an unpredictable foe?

Justin hadn’t spoken to her about his feelings on the matter. He knew how upset she was and had carefully steered the conversation away when she’d tried to discuss it. He had to be afraid on some level though, for his men and for himself. Even without that further worry, he was going to have his hands full keeping the men’s spirits up. Every one of them had expected to go home and be discharged after the Grand Review.

At the train station, Morgan and Gavin were waiting for her. The instant she set foot on the platform, her brother pulled her into his arms. He murmured something about how Justin would be fine, that the time would pass quickly, but she couldn’t manage more than a forced half-smile in response. While he drove them home in a buggy, he and Gavin updated her on the state of affairs at Greenbriar. During everyone’s absence, Teela and Ray had once again kept the place running smoothly. Morgan had made steady progress in replenishing the breeding stock, and most of the taxes had been paid.

She listened halfheartedly as he detailed the finances, but her heart wasn’t in it. What did she care about ledgers and breeding stock when her husband was out there fighting for his life on the frontier?

Morgan stopped when he noticed her lack of interest.

She felt badly. “I’m sorry. I’m not in a very good frame of mind right now.”

Gavin squeezed her shoulder. “He knows. He’s babbling away to try and keep you from thinking about it.”

“Thanks, but it’s not going to help.”

Morgan glanced at her then back at the road as he drove the buggy through the town traffic, out to where the lush meadows dipped and swelled as far as the eye could see. “Got something at home that might cheer you up.”

She sighed. Unless it was Justin, she didn’t want to know. 

For the rest of the trip, the two men kept the conversation light, but she paid only passing attention. When Greenbriar’s white rail fence came into view, snaking along the pastures until the house appeared, she should have been elated to be home with the war behind them. At best, the sight of the white two-story house filled her with wistful longing.

“Come on,” Morgan said, handing her down. “Let’s get you settled.”

As soon as they hit the front steps, the glossy black door swung open and Teela and her husband came rushing out to greet her. She hugged them both and went inside, hit by a jolt of unreality. This didn’t feel like home now. Not without Justin by her side.

Teela beamed at her. “My baby girl. I hear ya got yourself a good man. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Morgan gave the housekeeper a quelling look before turning back to Brianna. “Why don’t you go upstairs and change, honey. Then I’ll take you out to the stables for a tour.”

Although she’d rather have rested, she agreed. What else did she have to do to pass the time? She followed Teela upstairs and entered her old bedroom, struck by how surreal it felt to be standing there again. Even though her room had stayed the same, everything in her life had changed.

At Teela’s gentle urging, she changed clothes and pulled on a pair of boots before meeting Morgan and Gavin downstairs. They led her across the back lawn and through the garden filled with deep pink foxgloves and lemon yellow roses about to burst open. Clearing the black wrought-iron gate at the end of the garden path, they stepped through an arbor dripping with sweet-scented honeysuckle that led to the main paddock.

The white federal-style building that served as the stable sat under a canopy of two-hundred-year old oaks. New horses filled the closest three corrals. They raised their heads and pricked their ears up as the three of them approached. She stopped to pet one, a quarter horse with wide-spaced, gentle eyes. She ran a hand over its velvet muzzle, the earthy scent of horse taking her back to her earliest memories of being in the stable. It also made her think of the snowy day she’d ridden out to find Justin at his mother’s house.

“I’ll go find our new foreman so I can introduce you,” Morgan said.

“You hired a foreman?”

“Yeah. Knows his stuff. Came by here a couple weeks ago looking for a job.”

Probably a soldier returned from war needing work. She kept petting the horse. A minute later, she heard Morgan speaking with another man at the stable door, along with the clop of hooves. They were in shadow, but she could tell the foreman was a little shorter than her brother. He walked with a slight sway in his step, as though he were bowlegged.

“—be mighty glad to see her,” the man said, his accent pure Virginia and somehow familiar.

Morgan emerged into the sunlight. The foreman was a step or two behind him, the brim of his hat obscuring his face as he led the horse.

“I believe you know my sister, Brianna,” Morgan said.

What? She turned around. And then she stared, mouth falling open when the other man raised his head and a salt-and-pepper beard came into view. “Major Cahill?” The Confederate who’d assisted her and let Justin return to his command. And he was leading Boy-o.

The man grinned, tipped his hat. “Not a major anymore, Mrs. Thompson. Just plain Isaiah will do, or Cahill, whichever you prefer. How are you?”

She rushed over and threw her arms about him. “I don’t believe it—how did you end up here? With him?” She nodded toward Boy-o.

Isaiah patted her back and laughed. “A few weeks ago I promised a certain Yankee officer I’d see you home safely, and I since got a letter from him saying that meant here, in Lexington. Bein’ as there’s nothing left for me in Richmond and I needed a job, your brother was kind enough to offer me one. Seems your husband thought highly enough of my actions in Richmond that night to provide a glowing reference.” His dark eyes twinkled.

“I’m so glad.” She turned her attention to Boy-o and hugged his thick neck, laughing as the horse lipped at her hair. “And what about this shameless fellow? My husband and you came up with this surprise?”

“Yes, ma’am. We thought it would cheer you up some.”

She leaned her forehead against the horse’s glossy black coat, swallowing back tears. Was Justin all right out there? He had to be. She wouldn’t accept any other alternative. With effort, she put on a smile and faced Isaiah again. “What about your family?”

“We all live in town now.” Isaiah scratched the side of his face. “Not sure if I’ll ever be able to repay y’all for this, but I’m damn sure I know a thing or two about horses. I’ll do a good job for you.”

She smiled and looked at her brother. Morgan wore a satisfied grin, his arms folded across his chest. 

Isaiah cleared his throat. “Well now. I’d best be gettin’ back to work, afore the boss-man sends me packing for bein’ lazy.”

Morgan slapped the man’s shoulder. “You’ll have to do worse than this, I’m afraid.”

With a two-fingered salute, Isaiah ambled back into the stable with Boy-o in tow.

BOOK: The Vacant Chair
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