The second and third time he sought her out, she smiled. Once, he stood with her a full five minutes talking about Ginger, her spry little beagle. She laughed when Ginger ignored his command to sit.
Amazingly, he laughed too.
Those few encounters had brought him to this moment. To finally behave like a gentleman instead of a war-torn, washed-up soldier.
He just wished he didn’t feel more nervous than he ever had in battle. Maybe it was because he’d never feared death, but he did fear her rejection.
When a couple walking down the street gazed at him curiously, the man going as far as to stop and size him up, Devin knew he no longer had a choice. He needed to knock on Miss Van Fleet’s door or he’d cause talk, standing outside her door like he was. He couldn’t do that. The clerk at the mercantile had already looked at him strangely when he asked for directions to this very house.
Spurred on by that thought, he rested his left arm across the middle of his lower back, stood at attention, and rapped twice on her door with his right hand.
It opened before a full minute passed.
“Captain Monroe,” she said in that quiet, melodic voice of hers. “Hello!”
He bowed formally from his waist. “Miss Van Fleet. Good afternoon.”
Her eyes widened. She belatedly gave a little curtsy. Pressed her hand to her sternum. “What a nice surprise.”
He smiled. Then realized something important had just happened. She didn’t step backward to allow him entrance. Instead, she was looking at him curiously.
She didn’t understand he’d come calling. How could that be? His aunt had given him specific instructions about the correct time to call on a young lady when he wrote to her for advice. Had she been mistaken?
His palms grew damp.
“Miss Van Fleet, I was just in the area—” No, he wasn’t going to lie. Looking at her directly in the eye so he could view every nuance that passed over her expression, he cleared his throat. “The truth is I wasn’t just in the area. The truth is I’ve come calling …”
Her eyes widened again, and her lips formed a perfect O. Yet she still didn’t move.
This visit was not going according to plan. He should have done some reconnaissance. He should have asked more questions about courting from the men he counted as friends, no matter how much he feared their ridicule. Perhaps his aunt’s directives had been antiquated. The men, once they finished laughing at his ignorance, would have gladly advised him about the appropriate way to behave.
But since it was too late for that, he had to make do with standing on her doorstep, sweating as the November sun beat on his back, and fumbling for the right words to say.
Miss Van Fleet was staring at him closely. “Calling …?” she prodded.
He realized then that he’d stopped speaking midsentence. “Yes. Calling.” He cleared his throat. “For you.”
All at once, amusement entered her expression. She smiled. Stepping back, she opened the door farther. “Captain Monroe, as I said before, this is such a nice surprise. Won’t you please come in?”
Barely stopping himself from thanking her for allowing him entrance, Devin entered her home with a profound sense of accomplishment. While she took a moment to rearrange the skirts of her dark rose-colored gown, he took the liberty of closing the front door. As it clicked shut with a healthy snap, he looked around with interest.
The entryway was very small. Almost immediately upon them was a sitting room with two well-made chairs upholstered in light-blue velvet.
As Julianne guided him inside, he noticed a small desk, a matching sofa, and two other tables, each next to the padded chairs. A fine-looking lamp with a glass globe was near one of the chairs. As was a book … and spectacles.
She wore glasses.
“Would you like to sit with me?” she asked. “I had just come in here. I was reading.” She sat down in one of the chairs.
“So I see.” Holding his hat in his hands, he sat down in the space she gestured to, the chair across from hers. “You wear glasses.”
She tensed before nodding. “I do. Well, I do to read. You have uncovered my secret, Captain.” She smiled, but it was obvious she was embarrassed.
He wasn’t sure why. Growing tired of his ignorance, he decided to take the topic on. “Forgive me. I know a lot about ordering men about, but far too little about polite conversation. Were those spectacles something I wasn’t supposed to mention? I promise I don’t think they are a detraction. Quite the opposite.”
“My mother used to ask me never to mention such things, but that was a lifetime ago.” Rubbing her temples, she shook her head. “To be honest, I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to hide my imperfection anymore or not. We all have far too many other worries about now, I fear.”
“At the risk of sounding boorish, I have to admit I am rather relieved you wear glasses. I kind of like knowing you are not completely perfect.”
Her eyes widened once more. “I am certainly not that.”
Just so she wouldn’t think he was full of himself, he winked. “Neither am I.”
Something new flickered in her eyes before she firmly tamped it down, and she stood. “Forgive me my rag manners. May I offer you some refreshment? Bula, my day maid, is in the kitchen.”
He was too afraid he would either spill tea on her furniture or ask for the wrong thing. “No, thank you.”
“No? Well, all right.” She sat back down. Folded her hands in her lap. Thirty seconds passed. Forty.
He started to wish he would have swallowed his pride and at least asked Ethan Kelly for advice. He was a man who always knew the right thing to say and do, at least in the company of women. Kelly’s advice would have come in very handy right about then.
6
As Julianne sat composedly across from him, her pretty blue eyes patiently awaiting his next comment or question, Devin’s uneasiness increased.
His mouth went dry as he attempted to think of something to say. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single thing of worth. He should have planned. He should have made notes. Made stratagems. Considered possible outcomes. Honestly, he never got out of bed without a detailed list of goals and possible outcomes. How could he have just taken a bath, put on clean clothes, and appeared on her porch without any more forethought?
She laughed.
He focused on her again. “Am I amusing you, miss?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
All thought drained from his head as he stared at her. “Have I just committed another faux pas I wasn’t aware of?”
She laughed harder. “No, Captain. I was just thinking that we are two peas in a pod, aren’t we? I’m so unused to having gentlemen callers. I have no idea what to say or do … while you are obviously out of your element as well.”
Though his cheeks and neck were no doubt turning bright red, he said, “I cannot deny my inexperience.”
“A man of worth like you?”
“Like me?”
“Well, yes. After we first spoke at the mercantile, I did a little bit of checking on you. It seems you have quite the reputation, sir.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You shouldn’t doubt it, sir. It seems just about everyone in these parts has heard of the illustrious Captain Monroe.”
“I’m surprised.”
“You shouldn’t be, Captain,” she said as her beagle meandered in and positioned herself under his right hand. “The stories shared describe a man of great bravery and honor.”
He rubbed the soft fur in between Ginger’s ears. “Such talk about a common captain seems excessive.”
“I would agree, except the stories were impressive. Your reputation has preceded you, sir.”
The last thing he wanted to talk about was himself. “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear, miss. It’s all in the past anyway.”
Gazing at him with a warm look, she continued. “So even though exaggerated tales bursting about your greatness on the battlef
ield abound, you have not gone courting much?”
“That is true. During the war I fear I was always otherwise occupied with survival. But I must confess that I’m surprised about your lack of callers. I expected to be one of many gentlemen here today.”
She shook her head. “That is not the case.” Quietly she added, “You could probably tell in our earlier encounters, but I have the dubious honor of being both shy and bookish.”
“It’s my reward, then.”
Her eyes lit up as she pursed her lips. “Captain, I’d love to know more about you. From where do you hail?”
“I grew up south of Dallas. When I got to my majority, I joined the Texas Rangers and served all over the state.”
“What about your family?”
“My family?” He drew a blank.
“Yes. Were you close to your parents? Do you have siblings? Did you ever shirk your chores?”
“Shirk my chores?” He couldn’t hide the incredulousness in his voice. When he spied the humor in her eyes, he laughed sheepishly. “Are you teasing me, Miss Van Fleet?”
“Only seeking to know you better.”
“In that case I should tell you I had a happy childhood. My father was the foreman of a large operation. I grew up learning to mind my mother and guide my two younger brothers, and wanting to do whatever my father asked me to do at the Diamond P Ranch.”
“You loved him very much.”
“I did. My world was small. I loved my parents, thought every child feasted on warm buttermilk biscuits every morning, and was sure the most powerful man in the state was Mr. Pennington, the owner of the ranch.” When her gaze softened even more, he felt himself relax against the cushions of the chair. “I don’t remember the last time I thought about those days. About how idyllic my childhood was.”
“You didn’t want to return to Dallas? Boerne seems awfully far away, both in size and consequence.”
“It is. But not only do I currently live near San Antonio, not here in Boerne, I have no reason to go back. My family …” He paused, surprised that after all this time, speaking of them still brought pain. “They are all gone.”
“All?”
He nodded. “My father signed up to fight even before Texas followed Jefferson Davis. My brothers, Colin and Will, perished at Antietam.”
“And your mother?”
“Yellow fever.”
“And Mr. Pennington?”
“You know what? I haven’t thought about him in years.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw, wondering how he could have forgotten about the fine man who had done so right by his family. “I hope he did survive. That would be a blessing.”
“I hope he survived for you too.”
Devin wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her compassion was unfamiliar and stirred him in ways he hadn’t expected. It also made him uncomfortable. “How about you?”
“Me? I have no exciting tales or experiences to regale you with.”
“You might be surprised by what I find interesting.”
She smiled, charming him. “Not all of us can be heroes, I’m afraid. I’ve lived all my life in Boerne,” she said, running her hand against the smooth grain of the table next to her.
“So you grew up around here.”
Her smile brightened. “I grew up in this very house.”
“Is that right?” He surveyed the room, looking a little bit harder for signs of other inhabitants. “Who lives with you now?”
“No one.”
He stilled. “No one. You lost everyone as well?” For some reason he didn’t want to think of her suffering the same losses he had.
“Oh, no, Captain Monroe.” Her pretty smile turned brittle. “My sister married, and then my mother moved in with her and her family. In Amarillo.”
Obviously there was a story there. But what kind of story was it? He debated, curious as to why she had stayed while everyone else left.
It seemed odd and vaguely alarming. Women of good breeding didn’t live by themselves. It was also too expensive for them to do so. Especially in these lean days after the war.
Was she that wealthy?
The house, while not terribly large, was finely appointed and well cared for. Her gown, while not all that fancy, was of obvious quality. She looked fresh and well rested. Healthy.
But if she was that wealthy, why wasn’t she living in one of the bigger cities? A beauty such as hers would always attract a following. She could have had her choice of suitors.
A new wariness entered her eyes. “It’s good you were a soldier, Captain, and not a poker player.”
“Is my expression that transparent?”
“I’m afraid so. I can practically see the wheels turning in your brain. You are wondering about my circumstances.”
He didn’t bother to deny it. “Yes. Even though it is none of my business, I must admit I am curious.”
“You deserve an explanation. But, before I give it, I want to thank you for this.”
“For what?”
She waved a hand in the air, somehow managing to encircle the entire room. “For being so attentive and gentlemanly. For calling on me. It has been flattering.”
He wanted to smile, to say she was finding worth in something that shouldn’t be out of the ordinary for her.
He certainly couldn’t relay that he’d waited his whole life to come calling on her. He didn’t know much about courting, but he knew enough to sense that such … well, enthusiastic devotion was unseemly.
He made do with reassuring her. That was something he knew how to do. Not all men who fought were gifted soldiers. The majority were clumsy in battle and unsure of themselves. Or lonely. Or afraid. He’d spent more hours than he could count reassuring men of their worth. “Miss Van Fleet, though I don’t have a great deal of experience with women, I am no stranger to life. I can’t imagine taking exception with anything you could tell me.”
“I hope that is indeed the case, but I have my doubts.”
Instead of responding, he leaned back against his chair and folded his hands on his lap. And waited.
Looking pained, she started speaking. “During the height of the war, around ’63 or so, my circumstances were far different from what they are now. I was hungry, so very cold, and out of options.”
He was stunned.
“Were you alone?”
“Almost. My grandmother lived with me.”
“What of your parents?”
“My father had already died in the war. My sister married days before her husband left to fight. Weeks later, she discovered she was with child. It was a difficult pregnancy. That’s when my mother went to live with her.”
“Leaving you responsible for yourself, the house, and your grandmother.”
“Yes.” She swallowed. “It was very … challenging.”
“I imagine so.”
“My grandmother was ill. In fact, she was wasting away because we had so little food. I asked my mother for help, but for one reason or another she never had funds to spare. That was when I knew I had to do whatever I could.” Looking more agitated, she averted her eyes. “One reason I was alone, I’m afraid, is that I hadn’t quite grown into my looks. That, along with my shyness and bookish nature, made me something of an oddity on the marriage market. I didn’t take.”
“Men don’t always see what is right in front of them.”
Instead of smiling, she cleared her throat. “Eventually I did grow into my features, and I learned to keep my glasses hidden. That seemed to help.” She took a breath. “Anyway, when some of the young women I knew confided they were going to travel to San Antonio to attend an officers’ ball in the hopes of making a match, I thought maybe I would do that too.”
“So you did?”
She nodded. “I … well, I couldn’t think of any other option. A friend offered to stay with my grandmother. I put on my best dress, went with those girls, and made sure I outshone them all.”
“And did it work?”
E
yes still shadowed, she nodded again. “At first my social graces weren’t much different from what they’d always been. I fumbled through conversations and stumbled through dances. But then I met a man who seemed different. He didn’t seem to care that I loved books or that I didn’t know how to flirt or be especially charming. He didn’t even seem to care that I wasn’t wealthy. He wasn’t very handsome, but I didn’t mind. I was sure I had met the perfect man for me.”
“Ah.” She’d been married. He relaxed. That was her secret? He hadn’t known she was a widow, but the mystery officer asking for her hand made perfect sense. She was exactly the type of woman he would have wanted to marry quickly, and many, many men had done the same thing.
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about that, Miss—or should I say Mrs. Van Fleet? Women need protectors and men need to protect. I’m sure your husband was thankful to have someone to think about when he was far away from home, and you needed someone. All I can say is he was a lucky man.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she shook her head. “No, I’m afraid it wasn’t quite like that, Captain. This man called on me several times. He was everything proper and very wealthy. Each time he visited he brought gifts for both me and my grandmother. I was sure I was in love.” Her hands clenched. She cleared her throat once more. “I thought he was going to propose, you see.”
His mouth went dry. What was she about to tell him? “He did not?”
“Oh, no. He admitted he was already married.”
Devin was shocked by what an officer had done to her. “What a scoundrel. I’m sure you were devastated.”
“Yes, I was. I was ruined, you see …”
He shook his head. “Miss Van Fleet—”
“This is very hard. I need to finish, please.” Gazing at a point just beyond him, she said quietly, “One evening he said he was joining his regiment the very next morning. Still thinking he was going to ask me to be his wife before his departure, I let him … spend the night. It wasn’t until the next morning I learned he was married, and that he wasn’t going to his regiment for a week. I was upset and desperate, and this man, this colonel … well, he knew it. He did make me an offer, but it wasn’t to be his wife.”
Love Held Captive Page 5
