by Connie Mason
“Who said?” one of the men asked sullenly.
“Am I close to Confederate lines?” Aimee asked. “Thank God; I was afraid I’d wandered in the wrong direction.”
The men exchanged glances. The taller and younger of the two frowned and said, “We ain’t soldiers no more.”
A warning bell sounded in Aimee’s brain. “I—I don’t understand.”
“The South already done lost the war even though it ain’t official. We ain’t stickin’ around to see the end. There’s more than one way ta make a livin’, and we aim ta get our share of the spoils.”
“You’re deserters!”
“I reckon ya could say that. Me and Cullen been livin’ in these woods fer quite a spell, visitin’ farms and plantations occasionally when our supplies run low. Ain’t that right, Cullen?”
“Right as rain, Rolly,” Cullen agreed. “And we ain’t seen nothin’ like you in a long time.”
Goose bumps skipped along Aimee’s flesh. She had dealt with deserters before, but it was easier with a gun in her hand. This time she had nothing with which to stop them from doing whatever they pleased with her. All she had was words, and her mind worked furiously as she sought a way to make them let her go unharmed.
“I’m a widow; my husband died defending the South.”
“So what?” This from Rolly, who was already picturing Aimee spread beneath him.
“Will you let me go on my way unmolested?”
“We ain’t gonna let her go, are we Rolly?” Cullen asked, rubbing his crotch in an obscene manner.
“Naw, we ain’t gonna let her go,” Rolly replied, grinning lewdly. “We’re gonna have us our own personal whore, that’s what we’re gonna do.”
“No!” Aimee cried, staggering to her feet. “You can’t do that! I’m a Reb just like you are. I’ve been held prisoner by the Yankees and finally managed to escape. Why would you hurt one of your own?”
“This ain’t our war, little lady,” Rolly sneered. “It don’t make me no difference who dies or who lives. The only people this war will benefit is all them rich plantation owners wantin’ to keep their slaves. I ain’t never owned a slave in my life.”
“Me neither,” said Cullen.
“So we figure we might as well get as much outta this war as possible,” continued Rolly.
“Can I have her first?” Cullen asked. “When you get through with them, they ain’t worth much.”
“Ain’t nobody havin’ her yet,” Rolly said. “That Yankee patrol we seen earlier is nearby, and I ain’t takin’ no chances of gettin’ caught. There might even be a Reb patrol in the area. We ain’t too popular these days with Rebs or Yanks.”
“Why don’t you just let me go?” Aimee asked. “I’ll probably be more trouble than I’m worth.”
Rolly laughed, a harsh sound deep in his throat that sent chills down her spine. “Not damn likely. I ain’t had a woman in quite a spell.”
“Not since that little darky we caught hidin’ in the woods,” Cullen recalled, licking his lips. “It’ll be a treat pokin’ a white woman.”
Aimee decided she wasn’t going to hang around to become a victim. Turning on her heel, she fled into the woods, hoping to lose herself amidst the trees and growing darkness. Gasping for breath, Aimee could hear Rolly and Cullen thrashing through the woods behind her. Panic-stricken, her legs trembling from exhaustion, she searched frantically for a hiding place from the two vile creatures chasing her. She nearly fainted from relief when she saw a huge fallen tree limb that appeared to be hollow. Dropping to her knees, she pushed and squeezed until she was completely encased in the dank, dark hollow space.
Forcing her mind from dwelling on the crawling, creeping creatures inhabiting the rotting limb, Aimee brought her harsh breathing under control. Lying still within the confining darkness was agony for her.
Minutes later Cullen and Rolly passed so close to the fallen limb, she could hear their footsteps. Aimee lay still long after they had passed, fearing to leave her hidden sanctuary lest the men return and find her.
Why had she ever left Nick? she wondered dismally. Whatever made her think she could forget him by leaving him? Why hadn’t she considered the possibility of encountering deserters and low-life scum who preyed on innocent people? Was it her fate to be ravished and killed in the prime of her life when her son still needed her? Aimee thanked God that she had sent Brand back to his father. If he had been captured by these desperate men, they might have killed him outright so as not to be bothered by him. Finally exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a fitful sleep.
* * *
Meanwhile, back at Tall Oaks, Nick stared at Brand, so relieved to learn he had merely broken out with measles that he laughed aloud. He had imagined all sorts of terrible diseases the little tyke could have been infected with, and not once had he thought of so common a childhood ailment as measles. Of course, that wasn’t to say that the boy was out of danger. But with the proper care, Nick expected him to recover fully. It had frightened him badly when Savannah had returned to Tall Oaks with Brand, sick and burning with fever. Having concluded that Brand was his son, Nick feared he would lose him before he really had much of a chance to know him.
Nick raked his fingers through his black hair. His displeasure with Aimee was evident in his scowling features. He wanted to wring her neck for endangering the boy. At Tall Oaks he was safe, contented, and well fed. Didn’t Aimee know he’d never let anything happen to the lad? Furthermore, why had she left in the first place? He hadn’t mistreated her; he only wanted to love her, not earn her hatred. Unfortunately the fact that he was a Yankee was enough to earn her hatred. And it hadn’t helped any that he had left her over five years ago with his babe in her belly.
Dear God, he would never forgive himself for taking her virginity and then walking out on her after their one night of incredible rapture. Even though he had looked for her afterward, that thought did little now to comfort him. He had still abandoned her. And once he had found her again at Tall Oaks, he had earned her hatred once again by becoming a threat to her and her son—his son. By God, Brand was his son! He felt it in every pore of his large body. Someday, he vowed, he’d get Aimee to admit it.
“He’s gonna be all right, Captain, my baby is gonna be just fine,” Savannah said when she saw Nick standing beside Brand’s bed. “I just wish I could say de same about Aimee. Dat chile’s in big trouble; I can feel it in dese old bones.”
Nick’s attention sharpened. “What are you saying, Savannah? Do you know something I don’t?”
Savannah shook her head in vigorous denial. “I just know what dese old bones tell me.”
A worried frown furrowed Nick’s brow. “I fear you may be right, Savannah. A woman alone is at the mercy of deserters, raiders, and all kinds of desperate men. Aimee couldn’t have been thinking clearly when she left Tall Oaks.”
“No, sir, she surely wasn’t. Her thinkin’ ain’t been right ever since you showed up at de front door.” She flashed him a baleful look, filled with accusation.
Nick flushed, silently agreeing with Savannah. “I’ll find her, Savannah. Now that I know that Brand isn’t seriously ill, I can leave immediately. Will you be able to care for him if I leave?”
“Don’t you worry none about Brand; he’ll be just fine. It’s Aimee I’m worried about. I been tending her since she was a babe; she’s all I got left in de world.”
“I’ll find her, Savannah,” Nick said with conviction.
Turning on his heel, he left the room. He spent the rest of the day issuing instructions to Lieutenant Dill, then caught a few hours of much-needed sleep before leaving Tall Oaks at dawn the next morning. Since every man was needed to make up the patrols that probed deep into Reb territory, Nick chose to travel alone. He had no idea how close to Reb lines Aimee had traveled, and he thought it best not to endanger the lives of his men on a mission that was important only to him. Although he did promise the colonel he’d keep Aimee safely incarcerated, his pri
mary reason for finding her had to do more with her safety than with the colonel’s wishes. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.
Nick cursed the rain that had turned the road into a quagmire. Though it had stopped raining and the sun was shining brightly once again, thick mud and deep ruts hindered his progress. He thought of Aimee trudging through the mud without benefit of a horse, and he spurred his mount to greater speed. Thus far he had seen nothing to indicate that Aimee had traveled along this road. He considered the notion that she might have taken to the woods, but decided to follow the road until he neared Reb territory. Since he had been on patrols over this very same ground recently, he knew from experience just where those lines lay.
Around noon he met a Union patrol. He recognized the captain in charge immediately, and they greeted each other warmly. “Bruce Birch, what are you doing out here so close to Reb lines? I thought you were with General Sherman.”
“Good to see you, Nick,” Birch returned. “I’ve recently been reassigned. My duty now is to bring in Reb deserters. They’ve been plaguing the farmers hereabouts with their unprovoked raids and killings. Less than a week ago two deserters killed a farmer and raped his wife while their two small children looked on. I want those men, Nick, I want them bad.”
“Have you been in the area long?” Nick asked.
“Several days,” Birch allowed. “And we’re not leaving until those men are caught.”
“Have you seen a woman in the vicinity?” Nick asked hopefully. “A beautiful young woman with blond hair and soft light brown eyes?”
Birch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I can’t be sure it’s the same woman you’re looking for, but I did see a woman yesterday. Only she wasn’t alone. She had a servant and a sick child with her. Going to the doctor, she said. What’s she done?”
“She’s been in my custody for several weeks,” Nick said, carefully refraining from mentioning the fact that Aimee was a spy. “She left without my permission, and I’m anxious to find her. She sent her sick child and servant back to Tall Oaks, where I’m quartered, and went on alone.”
“Alone?” Birch repeated, shaking his head in obvious disapproval. “That was a foolish move on her part. There are dangerous men loose in the area.”
“I’ve got to find her, Bruce, before harm comes to her. Are you certain there are deserters in the area?”
Birch nodded. “We caught a glimpse of them yesterday, but they slipped away from us in the woods. I was just about to order the patrol into the woods again when I spied you.”
A sudden premonition seized Nick. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” Birch gave the order, and the patrol melted into the covering of thick trees. Birch and Nick rode side by side. “What’s this woman to you, Nick? I heard you were engaged to General Blakewell’s daughter.”
“It’s a long story, Bruce. Suffice it to say that Aimee and I have a rather complicated relationship. As for Regina Blakewell, I rather doubt we would suit one another.”
“So that’s the way it is,” Bruce said astutely. “Your Aimee must be some woman to make you give up the daughter of a general. I assume she’s a southerner.”
“Remind me to tell you the whole story after the war,” Nick said, unwilling to talk about Aimee while his feelings for her were still so raw. “All I want to do right now is find her.”
Aimee awoke with a sense of being slowly suffocated. She could see light ahead of her, and with a jolt of panic recalled that she had wedged herself into a fallen log to escape Cullen and Rolly the night before. Slowly inching forward toward the light, she stuck her head out of the log and peered cautiously in all directions. No one was in sight, so she emerged, attempting to get her bearings as she stood on wobbly legs.
Frowning in consternation, Aimee tried to recall in which direction Confederate lines lay. Deciding she was hopelessly lost, she resolutely trudged forward, keeping a sharp eye out for Cullen and Rolly. Having spent a miserable night in a hollow log, she had no intention of being caught again. Unfortunately, fate willed otherwise. She was still trying to find her way out of the woods when she was caught by the hair and tugged backward.
“Gotcha!” Cullen crowed, bringing Aimee to an abrupt halt.
Aimee screeched in pain, only to be silenced by Rolly’s grubby hand across her mouth. “Shut up, bitch! Do ya want the Yanks breathin’ down out necks?”
At that particular moment, Aimee would have welcomed Yankee soldiers.
“Move,” Rolly ordered, pushing her before him. “Did ya think ya could escape us?” Since it was full daylight, Aimee was able to get a good look at her captors.
Rolly, the younger man, was tall and lanky. He looked mean, with shifty eyes the color of slate. A blue-black stubble covered his chin; his hair clung to his neck in dirty strands, and his clothes were a ragged combination of gray and tan. Cullen looked to be about ten years older than his companion, yet obviously under the control of the younger man. Of medium height, Cullen was thin as a rail and wiry. His graying hair stood nearly straight up on his head, and he wore a scruffy beard. His clothing was as tattered as Rolly’s, and his worn boots were held together with strips of cloth.
Aimee’s mouth went dry. Somehow she had to persuade these despicable men to let her go. “Please don’t hurt me. Where is your conscience? I’m a Rebel the same as you. My husband died for the cause.”
Placing his filthy hand on her back, Rolly shoved her forward. “Shut up. Ya ain’t goin’ nowheres. Cullen and me are randy as goats. We had all night to think about ya.”
“You both smell like goats!” Aimee shouted back. She wasn’t going to make raping her easy. “You’re a disgrace to the good citizens of the South.”
Aimee stumbled through the woods, prodded ruthlessly by Rolly, until her legs felt like wooden poles. When they entered a small clearing, Rolly called a halt. “This should be far enough.” He flung Aimee to the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs.
“Go ahead, Cullen,” Rolly sneered, sending Aimee a baleful glare, “stick it in her. Ya might have ta slap her around some, but don’t take too long, I’m fair ta burstin’ myself.”
“Bastards!” Aimee gritted from between clenched teeth.
“Who ya callin’ bastard?” Rolly growled. Deliberately he bent, flipped her dress up, and ran his hand down her thigh. “Did ya ever see such purty white skin, Cullen?”
Saliva dripped down from one corner of Cullen’s gaping mouth. He swallowed several times before he was able to speak. “Never in my borned days.” He rubbed his crotch, staring at Aimee.
“Are ya gonna do it or are ya gonna stand there starin’?” Rolly asked disgustedly.
Cullen crouched beside Aimee, shoving her legs apart as he fumbled with the fastening on his trousers. Aimee managed one shriek before Cullen clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Do you hear that?” Nick halted beneath a large maple tree, instantly alert.
“Sounded like an animal,” Birch said.
“Or a woman,” Nick argued.
“By God, do you suppose …”
Nick didn’t wait around for Birch’s answer as he spurred his mount. Scout leaped forward, attuned to his master’s slightest command. Intuition told Nick that Aimee was nearby, and that she needed him. Keen instinct pointed him in the direction of the sound. But the going was slow, too slow to suit Nick. The forest was thick and dense. Finally, in desperation, he dismounted, tethered Scout to a nearby bush, and continued on foot. Birch was close behind him. They burst into a small clearing to a scene straight from hell.
Cullen had managed to pull down his trousers but was having difficulty holding Aimee. She was fighting furiously. Rolly hovered over them, laughing at Cullen’s efforts to tame her. Seeing Cullen’s thick, dirty fingers touching Aimee’s tender flesh made Nick wild with rage. He let out a trumpeting roar and lunged forward. Rolly reacted instantly, but Cullen was too consumed with lust even to notice.
Gathering his wits, Nick
flew into action. He leaped at Cullen, knocking him aside. His eyes wide with shock, Cullen went sailing off Aimee. She sat up immediately, pulling down her dress.
“What the hell!” said Rolly, who reacted by drawing his gun from his holster and aiming at Nick. Suddenly Birch burst into the clearing, drew his weapon, and fired at Rolly. The gun flew out of Rolly’s hand, the impact of the bullet shattering his wrist. Birch hadn’t intended to kill the traitor; he wanted him to hang for his crimes.
Cullen merely sat on the ground, his pants still down, staring at Nick in confusion. But Nick had no time for Cullen; he went straight to Aimee and helped her to her feet. She was sobbing—her body shaking—and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Nick uttered a violent curse when he saw the scratches on her arms and face. By now Birch’s men, having heard the shot, were emerging from the woods into the clearing, taking charge of the deserters. Nick noticed none of it.
“It’s all right, Aimee, they can’t hurt you anymore,” Nick crooned as he cradled Aimee in his arms. “Shhh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you’re safe now.”
The intimate scene drew the attention of more than one man, and Birch immediately ordered his patrol back to the road with their prisoners. Reluctantly they melted away, leaving Birch, Nick, and Aimee behind in the clearing.
“Is she all right?” Birch asked. His voice was filled with concern for the beautiful woman Nick held so tenderly in his arms.
“I think so.” Actually, Nick wasn’t so sure Aimee hadn’t already been ravished. He had no idea how long she had been held by the deserters or what they had done to her while she was in their custody. But he did know she was in no condition right now for further questions. Besides, he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of Birch.
“Will you be all right if I leave you now? I want to get those bastards back to headquarters as soon as possible.”
“We’ll be fine,” Nick assured him. “I’ll be taking Aimee back to her son at Tall Oaks as soon as she’s able to travel.”
Birch nodded, aware that Nick was perfectly capable of protecting himself and Aimee if the need arose. “I’ll be off then. Look me up after the war, Nick, if I don’t see you sooner.” He turned, walking back through the woods to where he had tethered his mount.
