Eden

by Bobbi Smith

  Danner spoke up. "Taylor here's been taking care of you. His pa was a doc, so he seems to know what he's doing."

  Braden glanced at the young soldier. "Thanks."

  Taylor nodded, glad that his patient was improving.

  "Any news?" Braden asked.

  "We haven't heard anything, sir. It looks like we're going to be trapped here awhile."

  In spite of his pain, his expression grew determined. "Not if I can help it. Once I get my strength back, we're going to find a way to get out of here."

  Danner didn't want to tell his lieutenant that their guards were mean and very well armed. He knew that if there was any way they could escape and save themselves, his lieutenant would find it. "Yes, sir."

  The effort to talk had cost Braden dearly. He closed his eyes and drew a ragged breath. As soon as he was able, he would start planning. They would escape. It wouldn't be easy, but they would do it.

  Camille sat before her dressing table mirror primping and putting the finishing touches on her hair. She'd been in her room working on her appearance since early that afternoon, for she wanted to look her absolute best tonight for the reverend. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this excited. Certainly it had been before the war began.

  Her sister had already returned home from the orphanage, so Camille knew Reverend Logan would be arriving soon. She'd left her bedroom door open, and she saw Eden walk past on her way downstairs.

  "How soon will he be here?" Camille called out.

  "Any time now," Eden answered, pausing for a moment in Canaille's bedroom doorway.

  "Good. I can't wait!" Camille smoothed one last errant curl into place, then stood up and turned to her sister. "Well, how do I look?"

  "You look beautiful, of course," Eden answered sincerely.

  Eden knew Camille was very conscious of her appearance and always took great pains to look her best-not that she had to work very hard at it. With her raven hair and green eyes, Camille was strikingly lovely. Tonight was no exception. She wore an emerald gown that set off her coloring, and she had pinned her hair up in an attractive style. Eden suddenly felt quite plain in her sedate, dark blue gown, wearing her hair down around her shoulders and held back only by a simple ribbon.

  "Good." Camille swept across the room to join her. "I'm all ready."

  They made their way down the hall and descended the staircase together.

  Francene heard her daughters' voices and came out of the dining room to speak to them. The sight of Eden and Camille coming down the staircase looking so pretty lightened Francene's heart. Life had been terribly harsh these past few years. Sometimes she almost forgot all the beauty, elegance, and joy that had once been theirs before the Yankees had come.

  "Is he here yet, Mama?" Camille asked eagerly, but in a quiet voice just in case Reverend Logan was already there, seated in the parlor.

  "No, dear, not yet." Francene smiled, understanding her younger daughter's excitement. Camille had already described the minister to her in glowing terms. Francene looked at Eden. She knew how busy she was at the Haven with Mr. Forrester off on one of his trips, and she was glad Eden had made the time to come home for dinner. "Let's sit in the parlor while we wait for him."

  They had just settled in when a knock came at the front door. Sarah, their servant and cook who'd stayed with the family through all the hard times, hurried to answer it.

  "Good evening, miss. I'm Logan Matthews, and I'm here to see Miss LeGrand," Logan told the servant.

  "Yes, sir. Please come in." She held the door wide for him to enter.

  Logan stepped into the front hall as Eden and her mother came out of the parlor with Camille close behind.

  "Logan, I am so glad you could join us," Eden said, moving forward to welcome him into their house.

  "Hello, Eden," he said in a low voice.

  He had meant to concentrate on his real reason for being there-finding out all he could about the activities of Adrian Forrester-but the sight of Eden wearing the simple yet flattering blue gown with her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders reminded him all too vividly of what it had felt like to hold her in his arms as they'd waltzed earlier that day. He smiled warmly in greeting as his gaze went over her.

  She smiled up at him. "I want you to meet my mother, Francene. And of course, you've already met Camille. Mother, this is Reverend Logan Matthews."

  "Reverend Matthews-" Francene began.

  "Please call me Logan," he insisted as he greeted them both in a courtly manner. "Camille, it's good to see you again."

  "I'm so glad you were able to join us tonight," Camille cooed as they moved into the parlor to visit for a few minutes until dinner was served. "Eden told us about all the wonderful things you've been doing for the orphans."

  "That's right, Logan. I have to thank you. What you did for Eden that day with the Yankees-why, you are a true hero," Francene said with heartfelt sincerity, her expression earnest as she took a seat beside him on the sofa.

  "I'm just glad I arrived in time to stop them." He looked up at Eden as she took a chair nearby. The thought of what might have happened to her and the children if he hadn't gotten there when he did still troubled him.

  "What you're doing for the children is wonderful, too." Francene added. "Not only the money you gave them, but volunteering to work with them. You're a very special man."

  "Thank you, but Eden and those at the Haven deserve all the credit. I'm just lending a helping hand."

  "Well, you are most appreciated," Eden told him. "I know you've won the children over. They adore you."

  "I just wish they'd never been orphaned. It's sad that any young child has to suffer as these children have."

  "That is so true," Francene agreed.

  "Mark seems to be doing fine, don't you think?" Logan asked.

  "He's quiet, but that's not unusual for someone who's just joined us. At least we did get him to laugh today with the dancing." Eden felt quite proud of that accomplishment.

  Logan smiled as he remembered the boy's reluctance to dance. "I think most boys that age react the same way at the thought of dancing."

  "Who's Mark?" Camille interrupted. Not that she really cared who Mark was, she just wanted the preacher's undivided attention on her as she sat down directly across from him.

  "Mark is the boy Reverend Logan brought to the home," Eden explained.

  "He was homeless, wasn't he?" Camille asked, looking at Logan.

  "Yes, I met him on the streets and brought him with me when I visited the Haven for the first time. Your sister was kind enough to find room for him there."

  Camille did not understand why Eden wasted time working at the orphanage. Their own lives were difficult enough without getting involved with anyone else's troubles, too. She realized she couldn't complain too much about it right now, though, for Eden's work at the Haven had brought the minister into her life, and she was definitely grateful for that.

  "It was kind of you to take care of a child of the streets that way." Francene was impressed.

  "This war is a terrible thing, and I want to help whenever I can. I want to try to make a difference in people's lives." Logan knew it wasn't a lie. He was definitely trying to make a difference in a life right now-his brother's.

  "Your work with the children makes a difference," Eden praised him.

  "You haven't met Adrian Forrester yet, have you?" Francene asked.

  "No, I haven't, but I hope he will approve of my work at the Haven when he returns."

  "Adrian will," Eden assured him. "He is always glad for any help we can get. You've been so generous already with your monetary donation, he'll be thrilled that you're sharing your time and talent with us as well."

  "He said he would be back sometime next week, didn't he, Eden?" her mother asked.

  "Yes. Logan will get to meet him then."

  And Logan couldn't wait. Forrester's absence had slowed his investigation, but it wouldn't be long now. What troubled Logan the most was
the knowledge that Braden had been wounded before being taken prisoner. Every day his brother passed in the prison camp had to be a pure hor ror for him. Logan had heard how terrible the conditions were in the Southern prisons.

  "Was there any news of the war today?" Francene asked.

  "I didn't hear anything," Eden responded.

  "Sometimes no news is good news when it comes to the fighting," Logan said.

  "I wish we'd heard that our men had sent the Yankees back to Washington at a dead run," Camille spoke up with very real venom. "I hate the Yankees for all they've done to us! Things have been so terrible. Why, the only good news we've had lately was what happened on the Bayou Belle."

  "What happened on the Bayou Belle?" Logan was instantly alert at her mention of the steamer, but he played innocent.

  "I guess the news didn't reach St. Louis," Eden remarked.

  "Some of our men stole a shipment of Union guns right out from under the Yankee guards," Camille boasted, interrupting her sister. "Then they burned the ship."

  At her unknowing reference to his brother, Logan tensed, but he managed to conceal his reaction. "I hadn't heard about it."

  "Well, it was quite the talk around New Orleans," Camille went on, glad that she finally had his attention. "I still can't believe Eden and Mother were on board and saw it all."

  Eden and her mother had been on the Bayou Belle!

  The revelation caught Logan by surprise. Their names hadn't been on the list that Larry had given him, and neither woman had been mentioned by those he had managed to locate and speak with before coming to the Haven. He looked at Eden. "You were actually on the steamer during the attack?"

  Camille was irritated that he was paying attention to her sister again. She didn't give Eden time to answer as she told him, "Yes, they were, and I am so glad I didn't make the trip with them. Why, it must have been just terrifying."

  Francene spoke up, telling Logan how she and Eden had been on their way to visit a sick relative upriver when the Rebels took control of the Bayou Belle and seized the shipment. "I was most afraid."

  Logan's mind was racing as he considered the possibility that they had had a connection to the raid. If Forrester was one of the key men in the group behind it, had Eden-and her mother-been on the steamer working for him? The suspicion ate at him.

  "It was frightening," Eden agreed, "but I have to admit I was glad the guns weren't going to end up in Union hands. We thought the raiders were just going to take the guns and go, but then there was the shooting." Eden paused, paling a little as she remembered what had happened. "I always thought I hated the Yankees, too, but when that guard was shot-"

  "You saw someone shot and killed?" He was shocked that she'd witnessed his brother being wounded.

  "A Yankee guard was shot, but he wasn't killed, thank heaven," Eden went on. "He was wounded when he tried to stop them. I still can't believe he thought he could do it all by himself. The other men were bound, but somehow he managed to get loose. It was crazy for him to even try. He was only one man against so many.

  To Logan, that sounded just like Braden. His brother took his responsibilities seriously, and he would never have given up the arms without a fight.

  "Well, I still can't believe what you did." Camille said to her sister disparagingly.

  Logan looked over at Eden, wondering what Camille was talking about.

  "Eden was so brave," Francene told him. "She tried to help the wounded Yankee."

  "Weren't you putting yourself in danger?" Logan asked.

  "It didn't matter. I had to do something. I couldn't just let him bleed to death."

  His suspicions about Eden's involvement suddenly faded. She had helped Braden.

  "What happened to him?" he asked, trying not to sound too intense.

  "I don't know. All of us passengers and most of the crew were forced to go ashore on the west bank. The raiders took the guards and some of the crew with them when they left. We weren't rescued until the following morning, and we didn't find out what had happened to the Bayou Belle itself until several days later when we heard that they'd found what was left of it abandoned upriver. It had been burned."

  "It's a miracle no one was killed and that you got away safely," he said.

  "We're very thankful everything turned out the way it did," Eden said. "I still worry about what happened to the guard, though. There were no bodies found anywhere near where the steamer was located, so I guess he lived through it.

  "Don't be ridiculous, Eden." Camille countered. "Who cares what happened to him? He was a Yankee. Do you think for one minute any Northern woman would waste her time worrying about a wounded Rebel soldier?"

  Eden looked over at her. "I would hope so."

  "We are all God's children," Logan put in, fighting to keep the anger he was feeling over Camille's words from reflecting in his tone.

  "Well, you're wrong, Eden, and I am tired of talking about the war," Camille pouted. "Let's talk about something else-something pleasant." She turned her gaze to the reverend and smiled sweetly. "Reverend Logan, is your family here in town with you? Did your wife and children come along on the trip, or did you travel alone?"

  "I'm not married. I made the trip alone."

  Camille's spirits soared to even greater heights. Logan was a bachelor! She was delighted.

  "Will you be staying with us here in New Orleans for very long?" Francene asked.

  "As I told Eden, I'll be staying until the Lord calls me to move on."

  "That's wonderful."

  Sarah interrupted them to announce that dinner was ready, and they made their way into the dining room.

  "Logan, would you do the honor of leading us in saying grace?" Francene invited.

  Logan did, and as he prayed over the meal, he truly was thankful. He had learned valuable information tonight.

  "Thank you so much for dinner. It was wonderful to meet you," Logan told Francene as they stood in the entry hall.

  "It was wonderful to meet you, too. Please come visit us again, Logan."

  "I will."

  "Oh, good," Camille said sweetly, priding herself on her acting abilities. She was more than a little irritated by the way the evening had gone, but she wasn't going to show it in front of him. "I hope to see you at the Haven."

  "I'll be there."

  "Good night, Mother." Eden gave her a kiss on the cheek as she prepared to return to the orphanage.

  "You be careful, now," Francene cautioned.

  "I'll see her safely there, ma'am," Logan promised.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Camille's expression turned ugly.

  "Camille, dear, what is it?" her mother asked. She'd thought the evening had been a pleasant diversion, and she couldn't imagine why her daughter would be so angry.

  "Oh, Mother-Logan is so handsome and intelligent, and tonight he all but ignored me!"

  Francene realized Camille had been flirting with the minister, but she hadn't thought the man had been anything but a gentleman. "Nonsense, child. Logan is different from other men. You must remember he's a minister-a man of God."

  "But he's still a man!" she pouted. "Didn't I look pretty enough tonight?"

  "You look absolutely lovely, but Logan isn't in New Orleans because he wants a social life or, for that matter, because he's looking for a wife. He came here to work with the orphaned children."

  "I suppose." Camille's expression turned from angry to pouty as she began to try to figure out a way to win his attention-and ultimately his heart.

  "I feel quite blessed to know him," Francene went on, thinking again of how he'd rescued Eden. "And I'm certainly thankful that he saved your sister."

  At the thought of Eden, jealousy stung Cam ille. Logan had paid more attention to Eden that evening. "He is a wonderful man," she agreed.

  Camille went upstairs to her room for the night, her thoughts on the handsome minister.

  The night was dark and warm and sultry. A canopy of stars twinkled high above the
m as Logan and Eden made their way back to the Haven. Logan had offered to accompany her once he'd learned that she would be spending the night there. He had tied his horse to the back of her small buggy for the trip.

  "Do you have to stay overnight at the Haven very often?" Logan asked casually, wondering how often Forrester went out of town and trying to see if there was any pattern to his absences.

  "No. Adrian doesn't go away very oftenmaybe a few days every other month, so I don't mind. I know my mother worries when I'm there, but I can't leave Miss Jenny alone with all the children. If anything happened to them, I'd never forgive myself. Besides, after the other day, I've made up my mind that I won't ever be caught defenseless again."

  He cast her a sidelong glance. "What do you mean?"

  "Mother and I both agreed I should take one of my father's pistols and keep it at the Haven, just in case anything like that happens again."

  "Do you know how to use one?"

  "Papa taught me before he left for the war. He didn't like the idea of Mother, Camille, and me being here unprotected, so he made sure I learned how to load and fire."

  "Your father's a wise man."

  His words surprised her. As a minister, she would have thought that he abhorred violence of any kind. "You approve?"

  "There is no sin or dishonor in protecting yourself."

  Eden had worried that he would disapprove of her arming herself. She felt better now, knowing that he didn't condemn her for having the gun, and she relaxed a little more as they made the ride together.

  They fell silent as they drew near the Haven. When they reached the building, Logan stopped the buggy and jumped down to tether his own horse there.

  "Is there a carriage house around back?" Logan asked as he climbed back up beside Eden.

  "Yes."

  At her direction, Logan guided her horse and buggy around to the rear of the building. He reined in, climbed down, and tied up the horse, then returned to the side of the conveyance to help Eden descend.

  Eden was grateful for Logan's aid. She leaned forward and rested her hands on his broad shoulders for support as he took her by the waist and lifted her easily to the ground. Eden brushed against him as he set her on her feet. The contact was electric, startling them both. They stood mo tionless for a moment, staring at each other in the quiet of the night.