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Tamsyn bit her tongue.
General Steele held Waxman’s arm. The steady tick in his jaw caught her attention.
George nodded and General Steele relaxed his hold on Waxman’s arm.
“Captain Waxman, if you can conduct yourself accordingly, you are welcome to take your seat so this meal may continue.” General Grant pointed to a seat next to himself.
“The rebel whore has no place here.” Waxman huffed and tried to reach around Tamsyn. “Come along, Tabitha.”
“No.” Tamsyn pressed the girl behind her.
General Steele narrowed his eyes at her.
“You would deny me the company of my escort?” Waxman took a step closer and reached around Tamsyn, taking Tabitha by the arm. “Come along, Tabitha.”
“Tamsyn, please.” Tabitha’s sob caught the men’s attention. She clutched Tamsyn’s skirt.
Tamsyn took a step toward Waxman. “You will release the child.” Her fists clenched at her sides.
“Or what?” Waxman sneered.
“I’ll bring charges of rape,” she whispered.
The sneer disappeared from his face when he realized her whisper carried to everyone in the room. He released Tabitha and took a large step back.
“Those charges are false!”
“Are they?” Tamsyn’s eyes narrowed.
Waxman sputtered another denial.
She grasped Tabitha by the hand and dropped her voice low, offering the soldier a bone-chilling smile. “If you go near Tabby or her family again, I’ll plunge a knife into your cold heart myself.”
She brushed past Waxman. “If you will excuse us gentleman.” Tamsyn drew Tabitha along behind her, and headed toward the door. “I thank you for your gracious invitation, but I do think it best for Tabitha and I to take our leave.”
She hurried through the foyer and out into the cool evening air. She pulled her thin shawl around her shoulders.
“Tamsyn, where are we going?” Tabitha sniffled, gathered her skirts and followed Tamsyn down the steps.
“Home.” Tamsyn looked around and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark.
“But he will follow us.” Tabitha’s voice trembled.
“No, he will not.” General Steele’s voice floated from the doorway. “George, do you have your horse?”
Both men sauntered down the steps. She’d only half expected General Steele to follow. The appearance of the other man shocked her.
“Come along, ladies.” George offered his elbow gently to Tabitha. He smiled and nodded to Tamsyn. “The mighty Union officers will escort you home.”
General Steele led them to where the horses were tethered. Tamsyn recognized his mare by the markings on her head. She nickered at her owner’s approach. George lifted Tabitha onto his own horse with care before he swung up and settled in behind her.
General Steele pulled his mare free from the post and crooked his finger at Tamsyn. Tamsyn bit her lip and took a deep breath before she approached him. The anger lines etched into his face concerned her.
She kept her chin up.
“Do not put yourself in a situation like that again,” General Steele ordered. His voice was soft and his hands encircled her waist.
“General, he assaulted her. I couldn’t just—”
“I know.” He lifted her onto his mare. “Do not put yourself in a situation like that again. Come to me and follow the chain of command.” He swung into the saddle behind her.
“Will he follow us?” Tabitha’s voice betrayed her fear.
“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” George answered. Charm oozed from the man who held Tabitha on the horse before him. Tamsyn lost their conversation when General Steele slowed his horse and put space between them.
She worried over the steady tick in his jaw and reached up to smooth her fingers over the muscle.
“Please don’t be angry with me. If I embarrassed you, I apologize. But I could not allow his abuse of her to go further.”
He smiled. “You have grit.”
His compliment made her smile in return.
“How old are you, Tamsyn?”
His question caught her by surprise. “Twenty-eight.” She recalled her last birthday passed without notice. Ben didn’t like to celebrate birthdays. Pointless frivolity. No one needs to celebrate getting older.
“And you?” She turned his question back on him.
“Thirty-six.” His breath warm against her ear. The mare picked her own casual pace in the dark. “Where did you learn the ballad you sang the other night?”
Her face flushed hot. She hadn’t known anyone could hear her. “My Mama sang it when I was a child.” Tamsyn remembered her mother’s clear voice singing the song at dinner parties.
“James, the girl says we must take the left fork,” George called back at the split in the main road. Tamsyn’s cabin was down the right fork.
“Can you carry her home, George?” General Steele asked. “Have a word with her mother.”
George nodded and urged his horse into a canter, fading into the dark.
“General, shouldn’t we go with them? Or Tabitha come home with me? Won’t he be looking for her?”
“First, please, call me James.”
“All right, James, shouldn’t we go with them?”
His laughter vibrated against her back.
“What’s so funny?”
“I like the way my name rolls off your tongue,” he replied. They neared her cabin. Its shadow outlined in the dark. “And no, George will take care of Tabitha. I don’t think Waxman will bother her anymore. It’s you I’m concerned about.”
She bit her lip and dared to ask. “Why?”
“You embarrassed him pretty damn good.” He swung down, off the horse. “You threatened to plunge a knife into his…” He paused and tilted his head. The soft voices of Davis and Knowles drifted out of the cabin into the night air. He reached up and gripped her waist to help her slid down the horse.
Her hands held tight to his shoulders. Heat pulsed off of his body and he held her there.
When she looked up, his face hovered just a moment over her own before he captured her lips with his.
Her eyes closed and she melted against him. His hands crushed her against his body, and he deepened the kiss.
His tongue teased her lips before it plunged into her mouth.
Her body shuddered and her nails dug into his shoulders. Moisture dampened her thighs and sent a shock into her mind.
Tamsyn broke the kiss on a gasp.
She slipped inside the cabin. James ran his hand through his hair and dropped onto the steps. What the hell am I doing?
Over the last four years there’d been many captives. A few were female. Never before did he sit guard through the night over them. He rubbed his hands over his face. Maybe Knowles is right.
Perhaps he wasn’t thinking straight. He should send one of his other guards to take his position on the front porch and find his own cot. In his own tent. Back at camp.
He leaned against the rail and looked up at the clear night sky. The smell of rose water still in the air around him.
Not a chance.
Chapter Nine
Monday, April 17, 1865
She leaned back on her heels, resting her arms. She’d spent most of the day planting the first of their crops. Even rows that would soon sprout green against the rich black soil would hold cabbage, lettuce, carrots, and onions. It was still early for the tomatoes.
“It looks good, Tam,” Davis called from the porch. While she’d tended the garden, he’d worked most of the afternoon cleaning the rifle.
She smiled her thanks and wiped sweat from her forehead. Heavy moisture slipped down her face with the trail of mud her fingers left.
It’s not supposed to be this hot in April.
Sounds of Elizabeth skipping across the yard in front of the porch brought Tamsyn a feeling of contentment. Her daughter seemed much happier these days. She turned back to the rows before her.
The only thing missing was the General…
James.
He’d kept his distance after the kiss they’d shared. He joined them each night just after dark, spending only a few moments inside, offering polite conversation while he teased Elizabeth. After, he’d retreat to his post on the front porch, often with Davis following. He’d be gone before she awakened the next morning.
She frowned and yanked a rogue weed. He invaded her dreams at night. The last dream remained vivid in her memory. He’d sat with her beneath an oak tree. My oak tree.
A towering old oak in front of her home in Tennessee.
His hand slid up her leg…
“Davis can you keep an eye on Elizabeth?” She pushed herself off the ground, her back stiff.
“Sure, Tam. Where you off to?”
“Down to the creek to cool off.”
“You okay?” He glanced up from the rifle.
“Yeah, just a little overheated. I’ll start supper when I get back. Did you skin the rabbit you caught?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I won’t be gone long.” She hurried around the side of the house. A large creek ran along the edge of the property, just beyond a thin line of trees. Despite the heat of the day the water would still be cold. But she was desperate to wipe away the sweat and dirt. And perhaps cool off the heat that seemed to ripple across her from the inside whenever James Steele crossed her mind.
Ben never made me feel like this. She stripped out of her dress and dropped it onto a large rock. She left her thin white underskirts on.
They could use a good washing too. She touched the water with her toes and shivered.
Damn, that’s cold.
She held her breath and forged into the waist high frigid water. Her teeth rattled but she continued to wade to the water’s highest point and began to splash the cold water on her face and arms.
“Well, this is a nice surprise.”
She froze. His voice slid over her. She turned and found James Steele’s head above the water, floating toward her. His eyes glinted over the water.
Her white skirts floated up and around her knees and she tried to press them down again. Deep laughter rippled over the creek and the cold water soaked further up the skirts.
His gaze swept over her body and she looked down. Water soaked, the white underclothes clung tight and near invisible. She wrapped her arms around her body in an effort to cover herself.
“It’s only fair, I suppose.”
Water dripped off his body when he stood. Her eyes widened. Waist deep for her the water hit James mid-thigh. Her eyes followed the line of his lean body. Thin from the lack of food on the campaign he’d retained the muscular cut of a man accustomed the physical activity.
Her gaze dropped and rested on the flesh between his legs.
“The water is cold.”
She gasped.
“I’m so sorry.” She spun away from him. Heat burned from her face and crept across her body.
“Even thin, you have wonderful curves,” James said. He moved forward in the water. “And your knickers don’t hide much.”
“These are not knickers.”
His arms wrapped around her waist. “I know.” He kissed the curve of her neck, his lips cold but his breath hot on her skin.
She shivered.
“The way the cloth wraps around your hips. I imagine you would look quite nice in a pair of knickers.”
“This isn’t proper.”
“Tamsyn, there isn’t anything proper about this entire situation. War, death, captives. I found it all meaningless, I questioned why I endured it all. Why I survived it all. Until ten days ago.”
She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. “What happened ten days ago?”
“I met you.”
His hand cupped her breast and his thumb caressed her nipple through the cotton fabric. Lightning coursed through her body and settled between her thighs.
He urged her out of the creek and onto the dry bank. Turning her, his lips descended onto hers with an urgency she understood. His tongue swept inside her mouth and she mimicked his motions. Her lips danced against his. She nipped his bottom lip and darted her tongue across it.
Kissing she could handle.
He groaned against her lips and his hands slid down her backside. His fingers kneading her flesh. Her wet toes curled against the now-wet ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her hands found their way into his damp hair.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Heat radiated off of his naked skin and his fingers gripped her underthings. His hard length pressed against her stomach. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be.”
He opened his eyes and met her stare.
“Please, don’t be,” she repeated. Her hands slipped down his arms and she tugged him further up the bank where the new grass grew soft along the creek’s edge. She bit her bottom lip and the ache in her body, in her heart once again roared to life.
Lifting onto her toes she closed her eyes and kissed him again.
Her fingertips slid down his stomach.
He gripped her hands, stopping her. “No, you’re not a camp follower to be bedded on the riverbank.”
“Is there something unpleasant about me?” The question rolled across her lips. Sharp tears sprang to her eyes and she squeezed them closed. Her teeth ground together.
He released her. The air wrapped around her, cold in his absence while she waited for his answer.
“Tamsyn, look at me.”
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A treacherous tear escaped the corners of her eyes and trailed down her face.
“Look at me,” he ordered again and waved his hands over his body. It glistened, still damp, in the afternoon sun. He rested his hands on his hips while she glanced over him again.
She returned her gaze to his face. “What? What is it you want me to see?”
“Do I look like a man standing before an unpleasant woman?”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
He moved next to her and she opened her eyes again. “James…”
“Shh.” His body tensed and his eyes scanned the trees along the creek. The loud crunch of footsteps caught her attention.
His hands tightened around her and he dragged her into a thick bramble along the edge of the creek. Her toes sunk into thick, cold mud. He pressed his finger to his lips and they crouched behind the bushes.
Two soldiers emerged from the trees. They scanned the creek in front of them. She recognized Waxman.
“I told you she came this way. There are her clothes.” The younger soldier kicked at her dress with disgust.
“She can’t be far.” Waxman’s gaze searched over the brush where they hid.
Tamsyn froze, holding her breath, certain he’d spot them.
“Keep looking. I’m going to break the reb bitch when I find her.”
“I’d like to help you break that little piece.” The other soldier laughed and massaged his crotch.
“Steele should have strung her up by the neck the night we caught her.” Waxman growled. He stalked to the creek’s edge. “Bastard saw nothing but her blonde snatch.”
James curse under his breath as she fought the urge to vomit.
“Come on, let’s look closer to camp.” Waxman walked along the creek’s edge, eyes intent on the bank.
James held her still in the freezing mud while they waited until the soldiers disappeared from sight.
“Bastard.”
“Oh, God.” Tamsyn started for the trees. “Elizabeth.”
What the hell might Waxman be capable of?
“Tamsyn, wait.” James gripped her arm.
“No. I have to check on Elizabeth.”
“Your clothes,” he whispered and motioned to her clothing littered on the grass. He moved to pull on his gray trousers.
****
James raced through the thin line of trees to
ward the cabin and nearly collided with Tamsyn when she stopped just inside the clearing where the cabin sat.
Davis sat on the front porch in the rocker with Elizabeth curled under his arm. Her giggles carried across the yard while she listened to her uncle’s story. He touched Tamsyn’s back and urged her forward. Her wet hair dried in wispy curls around her shoulders.
When they started up the steps Davis’ gaze swept over them. Ah, shit. He knows.
“What’s wrong?” Davis asked.
“Did anyone stop by earlier?” James cleared his throat.
“No, General. Just me and Elizabeth here.” Davis shook his head. His eyes flickered between the two of them and scanned the trees behind them. “Were you expecting someone?”
James clenched his jaw. “No.” He slid his hand down Tamsyn’s arm and gripped her hand. “You’ll be safe. I’ll see to it.”
She swallowed hard, eyes wide with fear. He dipped his head and touched his lips to hers. “I promise.”
“General Steele!” Knowles ran across the yard. “General Grant is at camp. He waits for your immediate return.”
Damn. He’d forgotten General Grant was expected that afternoon.
“Mr. Hart, keep your sister and niece inside.” His tone resumed that of a commanding officer accustomed to obedience. He noticed the rifle leaning against the rail. “ And your weapon within arm’s reach.”
He squeezed Tamsyn’s hand before releasing it. And turned his gaze on Knowles. “I have discovered the snake in our camp.”
Knowles nodded. “Is it who you suspected?”
“Yes.” James scanned the trees. “No one in or out.”
Chapter Ten
James hurried through the camp. The men paid him no heed. He pushed his still wet hair away from his face and stepped inside the tent.
“General Grant, I apologize…”
“No need, James.” General Grant waved the apology aside. “Did you enjoy your swim?”
“Bath, sir,” James corrected.
“On to business then.” Grant paced the tent, his hands locked behind him.
James adjusted his uniform while he listened.
“Several of your men have approached me.”
James slowed his movements and remained silent.