Through the Storm (16 page)

He took her hand and kissed her palm. “No explanations are necessary,” he assured her quietly. “Even queens need to be held now and again.”

She dropped her eyes for a moment and then smiled. “You’ve earned a reward tonight, Major.”

“Have I now?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes.”

Crooking a finger, she beckoned him down. When he complied, she raised herself on her toes, kissed him softly, then slowly drew away.

“That’s not nearly a large enough boon, Your Majesty.”

Feigning offense, she put a hand on her hip. “You dare ask your queen for more?”

He slid a finger slowly over her lips and replied huskily, “I dare.” Then, using the same slow finger, traced the satiny edge of her jaw and the soft skin beneath her chin. “I dare, because my queen needs solace, gentleness, and only I can make her come alive again,” he whispered in a tone ripe with heat and promise. “Let me banish your dragons for at least this one night.” He gently lifted her chin to search her shadowed eyes. “May I?”

Heart beating fast, she nodded, and her eyes closed as he brushed his lips across her own. The searingly sweet contact made her melt and lose touch with everything but him.

“You’re so lovely,” he whispered in a voice as soft as the wind rustling the trees.

Her lips parted and he nibbled her bottom lip. Sensations began to rise, as faint as the light from a distant star at first, but with each passionate draw upon her lips they grew stronger. He slid a hand to the nape of her neck and deepened both the kiss and their embrace—inviting her, bewitching her with his lulling power. She had no defense against him. Only being held by him in this thrilling way mattered. Her emotions had been drained by events at the hospital, but his fiery kisses were making her feel again, just as he’d promised.

When his hand began to roam ever so gently over the back of her dress, the heat in his palms seeped through to her skin, warming the new woman blossoming within. He lowered his kisses to her jaw and throat, and her soft gasp of pleasure mingled with the whispers of the trees. Hands as gentle as the night mapped her waist and shoulders, then slid over the buds of her breasts, making them tighten with flaring arousal.

She was indeed feeling. His kisses and caresses were opening the window on a previously unknown world, a world ruled by sensation. No man had ever cupped her breasts or filled his strong hands with her hips. Her hands had never journeyed over a man’s powerful back or up his arms as they held her close. Standing with him under the black velvet sky filled her with a recklessness and daring she thought she’d left behind in her youth. She wanted to touch him and be touched in return; she wanted to be shown what passion was really all about. Employing some of the tricks she’d heard about from Bridget, Sable slid the tip of her tongue over the warm corner of his mouth and shuddered pleasurably as his tongue mimicked the move. She kissed him fully, sensually, wanting him to be as affected as she was by this interlude under the stars.

Sensations flared as he lowered his head and tenderly nipped her breast through the thin gingham dress. Her
head fell back, and she arched against the strong arm bracing her as he treated the other nipple to the same thrilling caress. Moans slid from her lips and heat welled inside her as the play intensified. The silent suckling set off sharp shards of response so vivid and lush, she thought her whole body would melt.

“Does this please Your Majesty?” he asked huskily, while his fingers toyed with the pebble-hard points.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.” Her nipples were pleased, ripe and full. Her lips were kiss swollen, and desire had given birth to a soft, rhythmic pulsing between her thighs. She didn’t want it to stop—any of it. Not the way his mouth teased her breasts, or the dangerous sensation of his warm hands sliding possessively over her hips. His heated kisses were making her lose sight of who and where she was, but she didn’t care. Life was too short.

Raimond wanted nothing more than to strip away the ugly gown and explore her fully. The sweet fire he tasted in her lips had him as hard as he’d ever been. Passion spurred him to woo her, touch her, lay her down on the wooden platform and let the night wind join him as he spread kisses over every bared inch of her golden skin. Her full breasts burned his palms, and her sweet sighs of pleasure as he suckled her again made him want to take her to the heights. But he had to get her back to the hospital. Maybe next time, he would free her to his glowing eyes and sensuous touches, and show her the path to
le petit morte
. “We need to get back before Araminta sends out a search party…”

The words had to be the most disappointing ones Sable had heard all day, but she knew he was right. Duty took precedence over her wish to remain in his arms.

Raimond touched his lips to hers and slid a parting caress over her curves. “There will be other nights…I promise.”

“I will hold you to that promise,” she whispered softly.

They climbed down the rope ladder and retraced their steps to the hospital. When they were almost there, he pulled her back into the shadows and took a moment to give her a dazzling, knee-melting kiss of farewell. As he slowly broke the seal of their lips, it took her a few moments to find herself in the foggy state of desire left in the wake of the kiss, and only then could she open her eyes. She looked up at him standing there so handsome and tall and said, “You could have any woman in this camp. Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one I desire.”

Early the next morning, Sable received a visit from Avery Cole. She knew him fairly well by now, but not since the first night they’d met had she seen him look so visibly upset. She ushered him outside onto the hospital’s porch so their conversation wouldn’t disturb the men in the ward. “Whatever is the matter, Avery?”

“There’s a man asking after a green-eyed slave woman named Sable Fontaine.”

Sable felt her heart go cold. “What does he look like?”

Avery described a man who could only be Henry Morse.

Sable’s chin rose. “It sounds like the man I was supposed to be sold to. Is he still here?”

“Yep. Says he’s going to the head army man to get help locating you.”

“Well, I’m not going back, so he might as well go on home.”

Avery shook his head. “He didn’t look the type to give up easy. I heard he wasn’t real respectful when asking after you, so as far as I know, no one told him anything.”

Sable was grateful for that. “Was he alone?”

“They said he had a woman with him. His wife?”

Sable shrugged. She hoped the woman would turn out
to be Mavis. Sable wanted to give her the news about Andrew.

“I’ve good news too, though. Me and the family are going North. Salome’s been helping one of the missionary societies distribute clothing, and the missionary has found a church in Rhode Island to sponsor us. We leave in the next few days.”

Sable inwardly flinched at the prospect of yet another loss, but she replied sincerely, “That is good news.”

Avery seemed to be speaking from the heart when he said, “Sable, Salome and I will never forget you. Salome’s going to have a baby next spring. If it’s a girl, we already plan to name her Sable, after you.”

Sable had tears in her eyes.

Avery had wet eyes too. “You take care of yourself, now. And remember, that man can’t take you back unless you want to go. You’re free.”

Sable nodded and watched as another person she had feelings for turned away and walked out of her life.

Later that morning, as Sable sat at the bedside of a soldier who wanted a letter written, she looked up to see Henry Morse stride in. At his side was Major Borden, the new commanding officer. He’d been nothing but rude and uncivil in his dealings with the Blacks around him, and how on earth he’d ever been assigned to a command in the United States Colored Troops was anyone’s guess. Sable had yet to hear a kind word from his lips. The army command had relegated his new unit to rebuilding roads and guarding railroads. Although Sable didn’t want to see his men thrust back into the war, she and everyone else wished him someplace else.

As the two men wove their way among the cots, Sable had no doubt about whom they’d come to see. Avery’s warning had been a timely one. Morse’s triumphant eyes held her own, and Sable heard Mahti’s warning echo inside:
He will be the jackal and you the antelope until his death
.

Major Borden stopped beside Sable and asked Morse, “Is she the one?”

Morse smiled down at Sable. “Sure is, Major.”

“Then she’s all yours. Last thing we need around here is a murderess.”

Sable’s eyes widened. Murderess! A buzz went through the fifteen men in the ward.

“Who is it I’ve supposedly murdered, Mr. Morse?”

“Your daddy, Carson Fontaine, and I’m taking you back.”

Sable shook her head. “No, you aren’t. I didn’t murder Carson Fontaine and you know it.”

“We’ll let the authorities decide. Gather up your things and let’s go.”

Sable didn’t move.

Dr. Gaddis happened into the ward. He looked over at the two men grouped around Sable, saw the anger in her face, and asked, “What’s going on here?”

Borden replied, “Just a contraband going back to be questioned about a murder.”

Gaddis came closer. “Murder?” Wide-eyed, he looked first at Sable and then at Borden. “You must be joking. I don’t believe Miss Fontaine is capable of such an act.”

“Thank you, Dr. Gaddis.”

“Does he have a warrant for her arrest?” the doctor asked the major.

“Nope, he don’t need one. I’m authorizing her transfer to the civilian authorities.”

“Like hell you are,” snapped a new voice. Araminta marched over from her seat at a soldier’s bedside.

Morse stared at her as if she were a plant that had suddenly spoken. “This is not your concern, Auntie. I’d advise you to stay out of the affairs of your betters.”

Araminta blinked and snarled at the dark-eyed Morse, “My betters!”

Some of the men in the ward began to voice their disapproval. The tension was palpable.

Sable told Borden, “Why don’t we step outside, Major. The men are becoming upset.”

He inclined his head and gestured for her to lead the way. Araminta and the doctor started forward also, but Borden said, “Doctor, don’t you have patients to see?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then see to them.”

The doctor appeared reluctant, but Borden snapped, “That’s an order!”

Dr. Gaddis’s eyes brushed Sable’s before he strode away.

Borden then turned to Araminta. “I already warned you once, Auntie. This doesn’t concern you. Now get!”

“Oh, I’m going to get, all right,” she promised, her dark eyes flashing.

Araminta strode angrily out the door.

“Now, Mr. Morse,” Major Borden said, “you may take her, and good riddance.”

“No, he may not.”

Sable turned toward the familiar voice of Raimond LeVeq. Beside him stood an angry Andre Renaud and an even angrier Araminta.

Borden looked over at the tall dark-skinned major and snapped, “Don’t you people understand English? This has nothing to do with you.”

Raimond viewed his adversary coldly. “And you are…?”

The shorter major drew himself up importantly. “Major Claude Borden. United States Army.”

Raimond nodded in Morse’s direction. “And you?”

“Henry Morse, her owner. And I have the papers to prove it.”

Raimond didn’t even a glance at the sheaf of documents Morse waved in his hand. “This is Union territory, Mr. Morse. No one here is owned by anyone.”

Borden stood slack-jawed. “What are you called, soldier boy?”

“Major Raimond LeVeq. Contraband liaison. United States Army.”

Borden’s eyes popped in their sockets.

Raimond had dealt with men like Morse and Borden all his life, men who cared not a whit that he was educated, articulate, and could trace his family back from Haiti to the Moors of Spain. These were men who acted as if they’d been handed a document from God confirming their superiority based on the lack of color in their skin. Raimond took a perverse pleasure in cutting them down to size.

“So,” Raimond said smoothly. “Now that we have established our identities, what seems to be the problem?”

Sable thought Araminta looked more than pleased now that the red-faced Borden had been put in his place, but she was certain Morse hadn’t any idea whom he was up against.

Borden answered Raimond’s question by saying arrogantly, “I’ve given Mr. Morse here permission to take that contraband back to be questioned by the local sheriff.”

“On what grounds?”

“She’s a murderess.”

“That isn’t true, and Morse knows it.”

Borden chuckled. “Of course she’s going to lie. Most jigs would, but it don’t matter, she’s going.”

“By whose authority?”

“Mine.”

It became so still it seemed as if the world had suddenly stopped.

“You have no authority here.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, Major. This is my camp, and we do not return contrabands to their masters. Ever.”

“That girl killed her own daddy,” Borden accused, turning a mean eye on Sable.

“She says she didn’t.”

“So it’s her word against his?”

“Yes.”

“And you’d take her word against mine?” Morse demanded, amazed. “Since when is the word of a slave worth anything?”

“Since the day I arrived at this camp, Mr. Morse.”

Morse appeared outraged. Now he knew that Major LeVeq was unlike any Black man he’d ever encountered. He turned to Borden. “I can’t believe you’re going to allow this buck to have the final say. Is this how you Yankees run things?”

“Yes, it is,” Raimond offered before Borden could reply. “Unless I receive a message from General Sherman himself, Miss Fontaine stays. And unless you have other legitimate business to discuss, Mr. Morse, I suggest you leave the grounds.”

“This is not the end.”

“Yes, it is. Lieutenant Renaud, please escort Mr. Morse off Union property.”

Andre gestured forward with his rifle. Morse stopped before Sable and told her, “He can’t protect you forever.”

Andre prodded him in the spine with the rifle to hurry his exit.