by Connie Mason
“What you want to leave for, honey?” she asked. “We ain’t been mistreated, and Brand is eatin’ more than he can hold. If we go to Atlanta, we’ll starve along with everyone else livin’ there.”
“I have to get away from Captain Drummond, Savannah,” Aimee persisted. “You can’t begin to understand how much I hate that man.”
Savannah slanted Aimee an oblique look. “I understand more dan you give me credit for, chile.”
Aimee panicked. “What do you mean?”
“I done figured out why you fear Captain Drummond. He’s de gambler, ain’t he? He’s Brand’s papa. And you been sleepin’ with him.”
“My God, Savannah, he—he forced me!” Her voice was quivering, her eyes wild as she dug her fingers cruelly into Savannah’s shoulders. “Please don’t tell him about Brand. If Nick found out, I could lose my son. And I’m only sleeping with him because he’ll send me to prison if I refuse.”
Savannah fixed her with a reproachful glare. “Are you sure dat’s how it is, chile? I ain’t condemnin’ you, but I think you oughta tell Captain Drummond he’s Brand’s papa. I’m think’ he’d be mighty pleased.”
“If you love me, Savannah, you’ll not mention this again.”
“If dat’s de way you want it, honey, then course I won’t say nothin’. But I think you’re makin’ a big mistake.”
Nick read the latest dispatch from headquarters, then burned it immediately afterward. Colonel Brooks suspected a strong Reb buildup across Peach Tree Creek, and Nick was ordered to take a patrol behind enemy lines for a closer look. He’d be away from Tall Oaks for two or three nights. Though Nick was eager to perform his duty, leaving Aimee for so long gave him an uncomfortable feeling. Even though Lieutenant Dill would be in charge at Tall Oaks, he knew Aimee wouldn’t hesitate to flee at the first opportunity. He fully intended not to give her that chance. Aimee had quickly become an obsession with him. Not a night went by that he could trust himself to pass her bedroom door without entering and making love to her. And though she protested vigorously, her body told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She was just too damn stubborn to admit it. She had never forgiven him for taking her virginity, and when he had arrived at Tall Oaks to claim her home in the name of the Union, her hatred had intensified.
That night was no different from previous ones as far as Aimee was concerned. Once the household was asleep, Nick quietly entered her room. She couldn’t have latched the door against him even if she’d wanted to, for he locked her in every night after she put Brand to bed. That was the rule he had laid down when he allowed her the run of the house, and it meant that he could come and go from her room as he pleased.
Aimee was sound asleep. Nick was later than usual, having remained in the study until nearly midnight formulating plans with Lieutenant Dill for Union infiltration into enemy territory. After Dill sought his bed, Nick allowed sufficient time for him to fall asleep before going to Aimee. He realized that both Dill and Savannah must know what was going on, but keeping away from Aimee would be more difficult than cutting off his right arm.
The room was dark but for a ray of moonlight that fell across Aimee’s face. His mouth curved in a smile, briefly detracting from the brooding expression he normally wore. A strand of black hair flopped carelessly over his forehead, giving him a curiously boyish look. But there was nothing boyish in the predatory expression in his green eyes. Aimee had called them devil’s eyes on more than one occasion, and at the moment, he felt like a devil.
He stared at her with appreciation, marveling at her beauty. His hunger for her was enormous, a savage beast that ruled him utterly. He undressed and slid into bed beside her. She felt his breath against her cheek and sighed, coming slowly awake. He was naked, hot and hard, and she felt his arousal. Attuned by now to his need, Aimee moved against him in a provocative manner, forgetting for a moment that this was the man she hated. What she had always perceived as hatred had grown to an obsession as powerful on her part as it was on his.
“I don’t ever want this to end, Aimee. Love me, sweetheart, love me like there’s no tomorrow. I go on a dangerous mission tomorrow, and only God knows what fate has in store for me.”
Aimee’s attention sharpened. “You’re leaving tomorrow? For how long?”
“I’m not certain. Two or three days. Will you miss me?”
Aimee’s mind seized on his words. “Who are you leaving in charge?”
Keen disappointment brought a frown to Nick’s face. He had hoped Aimee would admit to missing him just a little. “I intended to leave Lieutenant Dill in charge, but my second in command should accompany the patrol in the event I’m—er—incapacitated. Sergeant Jones will remain at Tall Oaks along with three enlisted men. Try to behave, sweetheart.”
Aimee held back a sly smile. Together she and Savannah should have no problem finding a way to get the key to her room from Sergeant Jones. Then suddenly her thoughts stopped as Nick’s hands and mouth set fire to her blood. Her body felt as if it were ready to hurl itself from some high mountain. She tried to retreat from the edge, but he held her tight against him, refusing to allow her a moment’s respite. When his fingers explored the slick crevice of her womanhood, he found her wet and ready.
“Touch me, sweetheart,” he gasped raggedly. “Please touch me.”
Hesitant at first, Aimee realized this was probably the last time she’d be so intimate with Nick, and so she succumbed to his erotic words. Her fingertips followed the rippling muscles of his waist and hip, down one thigh and up again. She stopped briefly to draw courage before brazenly curling her fingers around the throbbing staff of his manhood. She heard him gasp over the pounding of her heart. Her hand moved hesitantly in a purely instinctive motion.
He endured for several agonizing minutes before groaning, “Oh, God, enough!”
The next instant he was atop her, parting her thighs and thrusting inside. The end came much too swiftly, and when Aimee opened her eyes, she found Nick’s startling green gaze on her. There was something profound and sincere in his eyes, something she’d rather not confront. She had her own personal demons to battle without battling those that plagued Nick Drummond.
“Is Brand ready to leave?” Aimee whispered to Savannah as she helped carry out the supper dishes. Nick had left early that morning, and Aimee wanted to leave as soon as the men guarding her had retired for the night. Sergeant Jones had taken supper with them and was now in the parlor waiting for the coffee and cake Savannah had promised.
“He’s ready, chile, but I think you oughta think twice about this. Brand ain’t been feelin’ good all day, and I’m afeared he’s comin’ down with somethin’.”
“I can’t wait, Savannah; I have to leave Tall Oaks before Nick figures out that Brand is his son. I’m sure it’s just some upset; you know how children are. Do you have the laudanum to put in Sergeant Jones’s coffee? Thank God I remembered it being in Captain Drummond’s medicine chest It was easy to sneak into his room and take it after he left.”
“I got it right here,” Savannah said, pulling the small vial from her pocket.
“Give him a large dose; I want him to sleep all night. We’ll be halfway to Atlanta before the sergeant awakens and discovers us gone.”
“I hope you ain’t gonna be sorry for this,” Savannah said cryptically.
Chapter 8
Aimee’s plan did not go as expected. When she brought the laudanum-laced coffee into the parlor for Sergeant Jones, he inexplicably decided he had wasted enough time in the house and declined the coffee and cake. He bid her a hasty good night and left immediately.
“What was dat all about?” Savannah asked when Aimee returned to the kitchen with the untouched pot of coffee.
“Sergeant Jones suddenly decided he’d spent too much time over supper and not enough time on duty,” Aimee retorted. She was furious over the unexpected delay.
“If dat don’t beat all. Does dat mean we ain’t goin’ tonight?” She sounded almost pleased
at the unexpected turn of events.
“We’ll try again tomorrow night,” Aimee said, far from ready to give up. Staying in the same house with Nick Drummond was too dangerous for her peace of mind. “Only this time we’ll make certain Sergeant Jones drinks the coffee. Instead of inviting him to the house, we’ll take coffee and dessert out to the mess tent so he can share it with his men. Then all three Yank soldiers can join the good sergeant in a long, deep sleep.”
Savannah rolled her eyes, shocked by Aimee’s deviousness. Was she so anxious to escape Nick Drummond she’d use potent drugs without giving a thought to the consequences? Savannah couldn’t help but wonder just what Aimee wanted to escape from. Did Aimee really fear what Nick would do if he learned Brand was his son, or did she fear coming to grips with her own feelings for the man?
“What if Brand ain’t no better tomorrow?” Savannah asked.
“As long as he’s not any sicker, we’re leaving.” Aimee’s face was grim, her voice desperate. “I pray he’s just coming down with a cold. I have to leave, Savannah, for Brand’s sake as well as for mine.”
Rather than appearing disloyal, Savannah didn’t dispute Aimee. But in her heart she hoped Captain Drummond would return. Remaining with a known quantity was far better than facing the unknown. She recalled how it had been before Captain Drummond pulled them from the brink of starvation. It wasn’t herself, but Brand she was thinking about. He had a full life ahead of him and didn’t deserve to starve to death, which was what would have happened had they tried to survive on their own in a strange place. At least at Tall Oaks they had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.
Brand seemed somewhat improved the next day, instilling Aimee with hope that their venture would succeed. Their meager belongings were packed in pillowcases and concealed in the wagon with a packet of food and a jug of water. Once the Yankees drank the laudanum-laced coffee and fell asleep, Aimee intended to hitch a horse to the wagon and ride away from Tall Oaks and not return until the blue-bellies left her home. The once magnificent plantation house might be falling down around her, but at least it was hers—or it was until the damn Yanks had arrived.
The day crawled by with annoying slowness. Aimee was nearly beside herself with worry. She feared that Nick would arrive home before expected and that Brand, who still wasn’t himself, would become too ill to travel. She watched him closely all day. Besides being listless and lacking appetite, he was slightly flushed and cranky. But since there were still no symptoms of a serious illness, Aimee saw no reason to cancel her plans. With amazing composure she carried a pot of coffee and a luscious cake out to the mess tent when she knew the men would be eating their supper.
The soldiers’ enthusiastic welcome and appropriate gratitude was nearly her undoing. Guilt swept over he when she thought of how she was going to drug these unsuspecting men. But she quickly overcame her initial reluctance when she considered that men just like these had invaded her home and deprived Beau of the full life he was meant to lead. One Yank in particular had a hold on her senses that both frightened and dismayed her. She had no choice, she must leave, using any method available in an effort to keep Nick from learning about Brand and destroying her life.
An hour later, Aimee snuffed out the only lamp left burning in the house and turned to Savannah. “Do you think they’re asleep yet?”
“If dey ain’t, dey ain’t human. I mixed enough laudanum for ten men in de coffeepot. De’ll sleep like babes till mornin’.”
“You get Brand and put him in the wagon while I make sure. Nothing must go wrong. I’ll meet you in the stable.”
Aimee needn’t have worried. The laudanum had done its work. Two men were slumped over the table where they had fallen into a deep sleep, one man lay across the bed, and Sergeant Jones was stretched out on the floor next to the door, as if he knew what had happened and was trying to summon help. After making certain the men were sleeping peacefully, Aimee hurried away, eager to put as much distance as possible between herself and Nick Drummond.
Since there was little need for stealth, Aimee and Savannah quickly and silently hitched a horse belonging to one of the cavalrymen to the wagon. She hated to have stealing added to her list of crimes, but if she didn’t take the horse, she’d be forced to hitch the old mule to the wagon. Brand didn’t awaken when Savannah laid him on the blankets she had placed in the bed of the wagon.
“Brand feels mighty feverish, honey,” Savannah said. Her misgivings over this reckless venture grew more pronounced by the minute.
Aimee gnawed her lower lip as she anxiously gazed at Brand. He did look flushed. And his sleep seemed more drugged than peaceful. “It’s too late now to change my mind, Savannah. Once we’re safely behind Confederate lines, we’ll find a doctor.”
Aimee took up the reins and slapped the horse’s rump. Unaccustomed to being hitched to a wagon, the horse balked, but through perseverance and raw determination, Aimee managed to make him move. An enormous cavern of blackness swallowed them as they rode down the long, oak-lined driveway, leading away from Nick Drummond and the almost fatal hold he had upon Aimee.
The going was slow. Too slow for Aimee’s liking, but the night was so dark, it was difficult even to follow the thin strip of road. What was even more frightening was the fact that she wasn’t even certain which direction to take. Tall Oaks lay northwest of Atlanta, so she headed southeast, or what she thought was southeast. Until the sun came up, she could only pray her sense of direction hadn’t failed her.
Brand woke up crying. Aimee left it to Savannah to soothe him, afraid to take her eyes off the strip of road she was following. He settled down quickly enough but continued to whimper in his sleep. Aimee was more worried than she’d let on to Savannah. Brand had suffered his share of childhood illnesses during his five years of life, and she was concerned now that something more serious might be involved. Perhaps he had caught something from one of the Yanks staying at Tall Oaks, she reasoned, and it would quickly pass.
The next time Brand awoke, Aimee handed the reins to Savannah and crawled into the wagon bed with him. She cried out in alarm when his tiny body convulsed with chills while still releasing enormous amounts of heat through his pores.
“What is it, honey?”
“You were right, Savannah, we should have never left Tall Oaks with Brand ill. He has a fever.”
“You want me to turn back?” Savannah asked hopefully.
“No, not now, not when we’ve come so far. Have you forgotten that we’ve drugged four men and stolen a horse? I’ll be sent to prison for sure. It would kill me to be separated from Brand.”
Shortly after dawn they met a Union patrol. Fortunately for Aimee, it wasn’t Captain Drummond’s patrol. Their wagon was stopped and Aimee was questioned closely about their destination. Batting her eyes in a helpless manner, Aimee blandly informed them she was taking her sick son to the next town to see a doctor. One look at Brand’s flushed face convinced the captain in charge to allow them to continue. He issued a well-meant warning before waving them on.
“I suggest you obtain a pass next time you wish to travel through Union territory. Spies are known to employ devious methods in order to smuggle messages through enemy lines. They wouldn’t hesitate to use a sick child. The next patrol you meet might not be so eager to let you proceed without written permission or proper identification.”
Aimee hoped no one could hear the wild pounding of her heart as the men rode away. A pass! Why hadn’t she thought of that? She could have easily forged some kind of official paper using Nick’s name.
“What we gonna do if we meet up with more Yankees?” Savannah asked anxiously. “You heard de captain; de next patrol might turn us back.”
“No one is going to turn me back,” Aimee said, her eyes blazing defiantly.
“We’s in Yankee territory.”
“I know.” She grew thoughtful. “The obvious solution is to travel by night until we cross into Confederate territory. And I know the perfect p
lace to hide.”
“Where’s dat, chile?”
“The Pinder plantation. I understand that nothing remains of the grand house except charred ruins, but it’s the last place anyone would look for us. And it’s far enough off the main road to discourage searchers.”
Less than a hour later, Aimee guided the wagon down the dusty track leading to the Pinder plantation. Brand was fully awake now and complaining loudly of various aches and pains. He was flushed, his eyes were glazed, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
The Pinder house was in worse shape than Aimee had supposed. There wasn’t a wall standing that offered shelter or a hiding place for the wagon. Aimee’s hopes plummeted, until her gaze wandered beyond the charred hulk to the stable. She noted with glee that a large section of the structure stood virtually intact.
“Look, Savannah!” Aimee cried, pointing at the stable. “We can spend the day there, and no one will be the wiser. It will give us a chance to see to Brand and rest up before setting out again at dark.”
Once the wagon was concealed and the horse unhitched, they ate sparingly of the food they had brought along. Brand ate nothing, requesting only water. Aimee ventured out of the stable once to inspect the pump in the yard, grateful to find it still in working order. They used the cool water to bathe Brand, but it seemed to do his fever little good. The heat of his body felt as if it would singe her fingertips. When darkness arrived, it was apparent to both Savannah and Aimee that they could not continue without endangering Brand’s life.
“What we gonna do, chile?” Savannah asked fearfully. “Brand needs his own bed to lie in, soothing broth to give him strength, and medicine to ease his fever.”
“I should have heeded your warning, Savannah,” Aimee admitted. Guilt plagued her. She would never willingly endanger Brand’s life. “I never meant to place Brand’s life in danger. You must take him back to Tall Oaks at once.”
“Ain’t you coming with us?”
