Eden

by Bobbi Smith

  "That's very kind of you to offer. Thank you. I'll be there," he accepted.

  Eden went back in the office, and Camille was practically floating on air as she followed her.

  "Oh, you were so right, dear sister!" Camille told her in a hushed, excited voice. "The reverend is handsome! You didn't do him justice in your description of him last night. He's even better than I'd hoped. I can't wait to tell Mama that he's coming to dinner. In fact, I'm going home right now to let her know."

  "I thought you wanted to do some work here with the children. I thought you were going to volunteer to help out?"

  "Later." Camille dismissed her sister's suggestion without a thought. "Right now, I have to get things ready for tomorrow. Reverend Logan is coming to dinner! I'll see you at home tonight."

  Eden walked with her sister to the office door, then watched as she passed by Logan. As Eden had expected, Camille stopped to speak with him. The sound of her flirtatious laughter drifted down the hall to her, and Eden turned back into the room, her mood slightly annoyed as she returned to her work. As she did, she glanced down at her own plain gown and sighed.

  The day passed quickly. Eden received notes from both Veronica and Gabrielle letting her know that they were fine, but they would not be returning to volunteer at the Haven for a while for they didn't feel safe there anymore. The two women had been a great help to her and Jenny while Adrian was away, and Eden was disappointed by their decision. Her anger at the two Yankees grew and so did her desire for revenge.

  After the noon meal, Eden took some of the older children outside to work in the garden they kept in the backyard. Because of the shortages caused by the war and low funds, they had to raise as much of their own food as they could right there on the grounds. Eden also spent time working in the flower garden that bordered the rear of their property. Several seasons of neglect had transformed it into almost a wilderness, so she dedicated as much time as she could to taming the lush, overgrown plants and shrubs. Eden loved flowers, and the time she spent there was her favorite time of the day.

  Eden set the children to weeding while she cut some of the more fragrant blooms to take inside.

  Logan had finished his repairs to the door and was ready to leave for the day. He wasn't sure where Eden had gone. She wasn't in the office, and he didn't want to just disappear without telling her good-bye.

  The sound of children's voices outside drew him from the house. He went out the front door and made his way around through the side yard.

  "Is Miss Eden here?" he asked one of the boys.

  The boy pointed him in the right direction.

  Logan headed toward the back of the property to find her. The flowering bushes were tall, lush, and full. The heavenly scent of the blossoms filled the air. A narrow path wove its way among the shrubs and trees, and as he followed it, Logan almost felt as if he were in a maze. He came upon Eden as she was cutting a bouquet of flowers, and he paused. She hadn't heard his approach, so he took advantage of the moment to observe her.

  Logan had thought Eden was lovely from the first moment he'd seen her. Now, standing there among the blossoms she looked even more beautiful. Framed by nature's glory, she was radiant, the epitome of innocence and beauty.

  The fleeting thought that this was the Garden of Eden came to Logan, and he smiled.

  But the smile quickly faded. He grew irritated with himself for allowing his thoughts to stray that way. He knew little or nothing about Eden. True, she was dedicating her life to helping the children, and there certainly seemed to be no guile in her, but even so, the only thing he should concern himself with was finding those responsible for stealing the arms shipment. He was a man on a mission. He could afford no distractions. The stakes were too great.

  "Eden?" Logan said her name softly, not sure why he felt the need to lower his voice, except that the place seemed so serene he hated to disrupt it by talking.

  "Oh, Reverend Logan." She looked up in surprise.

  "I think when we're by ourselves you can just call me Logan," he told her with a conspiratorial smile.

  She grinned back. "Are you leaving now?"

  "Yes. My work on the door is finished, and I think it turned out rather well."

  "Thank you. Will we see you in the morning?"

  "I'll be here."

  "We'll be looking forward to it."

  Eden stood before him, holding the bouquet of fragrant blossoms in her arms, her eyes aglow as she gazed up at him.

  This time, Logan didn't try to stop himself from touching her injured cheek. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

  "Not so very much," she answered, her voice soft. She was mesmerized by the concern she saw in his expression and the gentleness of his touch.

  He nodded and let his hand drop away, then said quietly, "Until tomorrow."

  With that, he was gone.

  Eden stood there, staring after Logan, feeling suddenly lost and alone without him and wishing she could think of a reason to call him back. The sounds of the children's voices forced her back to reality, but she knew she was already looking forward to his return in the morning. She smiled in anticipation.

  "What shall we do for fun today?" Eden asked the children the following afternoon when they'd finished their chores and were gathered in the dining room. "Whose turn is it to choose?"

  "The girls!" all the girls called out.

  As usual, the boys were less than enthused to be at the mercy of the opposite sex, and they let their displeasure be known by their grumbling.

  "I don't want to hear any more complaining, gentlemen. It is the ladies' turn to decide. So what would you like to do? Just raise your hands, and I'll call on you to hear your suggestions," Eden told the girls as Jenny and Logan looked on in amusement.

  "Miss Eden!"

  "Yes, Amanda?"

  "I think we should do needlepoint."

  The boys all groaned aloud.

  Eden tried not to smile.

  "That's a good suggestion. Anyone else have another idea?" She looked around and saw little Connie with her hand up. "Yes, Connie?"

  The young girl smiled shyly as she answered, "I think we should practice dancing, Miss Eden."

  The rest of the girls seemed to like that idea, while the boys looked suitably tortured at the prospect.

  "I think dancing sounds wonderful," Jenny put in, knowing it would be just the thing to quiet the boys down.

  "Very well," Eden agreed. "Boys, why don't you push the tables back so we have some room for a dance floor."

  The boys went to work clearing the area. The girls were so excited, they decided to help. Jenny made her way to the back corner of the room where the old piano that had been donated to the Haven was kept. The piano was in poor condition and had a few keys missing, but the children never noticed. When Jenny played, they generally just enjoyed the music-except for the boys when they were forced to dance.

  "Since this is ladies' day-girls, you may pick your own partner," Eden instructed, again trying not to grin when she saw the looks of pure misery on the boys' faces.

  The girls quickly scattered to grab their favorite available male.

  "Reverend Logan." Little Connie went straight to him and took his hand. She looked up at him adoringly. "I want you to dance with me first."

  "I'd be honored," he answered.

  Eden watched over the children as they paired up and went out onto the makeshift dance floor. The boys outnumbered the girls so, being the new boy, Mark ended up not being picked. He was looking delighted at the prospect of sitting this one out, so Eden decided to take him for herself.

  "Mark? Will you dance with me?" she invited.

  The boy was a bit stunned by Miss Eden's invitation. His expression became guarded as he tried to refuse her. "You don't want to dance with me, Miss Eden. Ask one of the others."

  "Oh, no. You're not getting out of it that easily," she challenged him. "Come on." She took his arm.

  "No, ma'am." Mark hesitated again, drawing ba
ck from her, scowling a bit and wanting to escape.

  "When a lady asks you to dance, Mark, you're not supposed to refuse her."

  He looked almost pained as he finally admitted to her, "But I can't dance, Miss Eden. I don't know how."

  He was shocked when Miss Eden laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but a laugh of pure delight.

  "None of us can dance, Mark. That's why we're doing this. It's all for fun and for practice so we can learn how. Come on. Don't be afraid. I'll show you what to do." She took his arm again and led him out among the others.

  Mark looked tense and self-conscious, but Eden kept talking to him, and he relaxed a bit.

  Logan had watched the exchange between the two of them with interest. He was amazed that a youth who had suffered through what Mark had, being orphaned and living hand-to-mouth on the streets, would be afraid of dancing with Eden. Logan had no more time to think about it, though, as the music began and little Connie demanded his full attention.

  They practiced the quadrille and then the schottische, changing partners after each dance. Sometimes things went smoothly, and sometimes everyone ended up laughing at their own missteps and the missteps of others. Eventually the boys began to have fun, too, though they were less than wont to admit it.

  Eden always enjoyed herself when they danced. She especially liked watching the bigger boys dancing with the youngest girls. It brought out the gentleness in them that they tried so hard to hide. She was pleased that Mark had not fought her too strongly in her effort to get him on the floor. He'd proven rather adept once he'd learned the basic steps, and he was now quite sought after by the girls.

  "All right," Jenny announced. "It's time for a waltz."

  Eden was wondering who she should choose to dance with next, but before she could decide, Logan appeared at her side.

  "I was hoping you'd do me the honor of choosing me to be your partner for this waltz, Miss Eden," he said, giving her a courtly bow.

  She was surprised and delighted by his request. She smiled up at him as she curtsied before him. "Reverend Logan, I would love to share this dance with you."

  Around them, the children mimicked their behavior, bowing and curtsying.

  As the slower melody began, Logan swept Eden into his arms. A shock of awareness shot through him at the touch of her body against his, and it startled him. He'd known she was beautiful. He'd known he was attracted to her, but he'd had no idea that holding her this way would prove so disconcerting. He began the waltz, guiding her expertly around the room. With every step he took, Logan was reminded of just how perfectly she fit against him. Gliding about the dance floor, they moved as if they were one.

  Eden was surprised to discover that Logan was such an accomplished dancer. She'd thought that since he was a minister he probably didn't have too much dancing experience, but she realized now that she'd been wrong. Following his lead, she allowed him to swirl her gracefully about the floor, and she found she was loving every minute of being in his arms. It had been one thing when he'd helped her to stand the other day; it was another thing altogether to be held close to him as they moved in perfect unison. She lifted her gaze to look up at him.

  Logan happened to glance down just then to find Eden staring up at him. It was a timeless moment for them both as their gazes met and locked, and it seemed as if the rest of the world had faded away. There were only the two of them-alone, caught up in the sensuous rhythm of their dance.

  As Eden looked up at Logan, a revelation came to her. In that moment, for the first time, she saw him not as a minister, but simply as a man. She had always thought him attractive, but now as they danced together, every fiber of her being was aware of him-of the warm touch of his hand at her waist, the strength of him as he guided her flawlessly to the music. There was power and grace in his every move, and she instinctively followed him, reveling in the sensual awakening he was stirring within her.

  And then Eden heard the laughter of the children around her.

  Jarred from her reverie, Eden reminded herself who Logan was and why they were dancing together.

  She tore her gaze away from him and looked down to hide the slight blush that stained her cheeks. She scolded herself for her reaction to him. She told herself that this was Logan-Reverend Logan. He was here to help the children and the Haven. Yet she had to admit that there was something about this man who had come into her life so unexpectedly that touched her in ways she'd never been touched before.

  When at last Jenny stopped playing, Eden and Logan stood facing each other, marveling at the intimacy they'd just shared.

  "Thank you for the dance," Logan said, and he meant it. He found he was sorry he had to let her go. If they'd been anywhere else, he would have paid the musicians to continue playing waltzes for the rest of the day and night. He wanted to keep her in his arms.

  Eden smiled up at him, trying to make light of what had passed between them, wondering if she'd imagined it, but realizing that she hadn't. She felt almost bereft at no longer being held in his arms. "No-thank you, sir. You were a most worthy partner. I'm sure the children learned a lot just watching us."

  "It was my pleasure," he answered.

  "I'm just glad your religion doesn't prohibit you from dancing," she said, her eyes shining.

  "So am I," he replied, giving her a wicked grin, and then he was gone, drawn away by another of the little girls.

  A short time later, the time for dancing came to an end, and the children went off to see to their chores before dinner.

  "I'm leaving now, but I'll see you later tonight," Logan told Eden when he sought her out in the office.

  "We're looking forward to having you join us," Eden said. She had given him directions to her home earlier in the day.

  As he left the Haven, Logan realized he truly was looking forward to the evening to come. Thoughts of their waltz and the way Eden had felt in his arms stayed with him until he finally forced himself to put the remembrances aside. He cautioned himself yet again not to even think about getting involved with Eden in any way. There was a very good possibility that the men he was after were somehow connected with Forrester, and he couldn't let any personal concern for Eden interfere with his mission. Beautiful woman that she was, he had no time for any kind of romantic dalliance. He had to find a way to save Braden.

  Eden remained at the Haven with the children until they had all come down and settled in for the evening meal. Once she was certain all would be quiet, she left them with Jenny and went home for dinner.

  The day before, Eden had been upset by her sister's brazenness in asking Logan to dinner, but now Eden found she was glad that he had accepted the invitation. She was looking forward to spending the evening with him. Logan truly was a gentleman and, she added in her thoughts, a very fine dancer.

  As Eden made the trip home, she found herself wondering when she would get a response to the letter she'd sent to Adrian's contact. She had hoped she would hear something quickly, but she knew that wasn't always possible. Still, Eden held on to her anger and her need to make sure those Yankees never tried to harm another Southern lady.

  He wasn't dead.

  Braden knew that because the pain was there, taunting him at the edges of his consciousness.

  He didn't want to come fully awake. He wanted to lose himself in the pain-free darkness again, for he knew what true awareness would bring.

  But the outside world would not be denied.

  Braden's inner world lightened, and with the light came the agony. He struggled to avoid it. He stirred, trying to escape, but it enveloped him. Even that simple movement evoked agony, so he lay still. His jaw locked against the excruciating torment that radiated through him as he opened his eyes to see his surroundings clearly for the first time in days.

  Sunlight.

  He could see that it was day, and he was lying in a tent. There was a Union soldier sitting nearby, but the man was turned so he couldn't see his face. He knew it wasn't Danner, though, for Danner was a
big man and this one was much smaller.

  "What happened?" Braden asked, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

  "You're awake!" Taylor was startled by the invalid's words and rushed to kneel beside him. The private touched his patient's forehead to discover with great relief that the lieutenant's fever had actually broken and the look in his dark eyes was clear and sane.

  Taylor couldn't believe his patient was better. The hours of nursing him had seemed endless, and there had been a few times when Taylor had worried that he truly might not make it, but there had been no giving up in trying to save him. That wasn't in Taylor's nature.

  "Who are you?" Braden stared up at his caregiver, realizing he wasn't much more than a boy. He was certain he'd never seen him before.

  "I'm Private Taylor. You've had a high fever, but it's finally broken."

  "How long-?"

  "It's been a few days, but it looks like you're going to make it now."

  Braden gave a weak nod as his eyes drifted shut.

  Once Taylor was sure that the lieutenant was just resting and had not lost consciousness again, Taylor stood and hurried from the shelter to find Danner and give him the good news.

  Danner was sitting around a small campfire with a few of the other prisoners when he looked up and saw Taylor heading his way. He couldn't read the private's expression, and he worried that the lieutenant had taken a turn for the worse.

  "Something wrong?" Danner asked as he got quickly to his feet to go meet him.

  Only when Taylor smiled did he realize the news wasn't bad.

  "He's awake. The fever's broken."

  The two hurried back to Braden's side.

  "Lieutenant?" Danner said quietly as he knelt down next to the makeshift bed.

  Braden recognized his friend's voice and opened his eyes.

  "You are better," Danner said with relief.

  "Better than what?" Braden managed. "Dead might feel better than this." He tried to shift positions, seeking some bit of comfort, but there was none to be found on the hard pallet.

  "Rest easy, Lieutenant," Taylor cautioned. "Don't move around too much. You don't want to go opening up that wound again."