“He…he kissed me,” she blurted. The familiar heat burned her cheeks.
But Aunt Emmaline only smiled, and Sabrina watched her face transform into a reminder of the beauty she must have been as a young woman.
“Is…that all?”
Sabrina took a deep breath. This was harder than she had imagined it might be. “No. I—Aunt Emma, I kissed him back.”
Aunt Emma didn’t answer for a moment. Finally, she took Sabrina’s hand in hers until Sabrina met her eyes. “Sabrina, when I was young—younger than you, though not quite as featherheaded as Desi—there was a young man in my life. He kissed me one time—and I kissed him back. I’ve often wished through the years, that I’d allowed myself a second kiss. Things…might have worked out very differently if I had.”
“Aunt Emma—are you saying—”
The older woman squeezed Sabrina’s hand gently. “I’m saying follow your heart. He’s a lonely soul, your Jason. He’s searching for a place in the world. And this world is changing, dear. He may never find it without your help. I’ve often wondered why you brought home two Yankees. I’ve done a little digging of my own, as well. These boys are Georgia born and bred. Mrs. Davenport knows of their family, the McCains from over near Allen’s Ridge.”
Sabrina was quiet, wondering how much of the family history her aunt had uncovered.
“I…learned quite a bit, Sabrina,” she said gently. Apparently, though, she wasn’t going to share any details. “Mrs. Davenport is a font of information. Those men have been through hell, and not just the last years while the war has been raging.”
Sabrina nodded, her throat tight. What must Jason believe, after what he had told her? That she was keeping her distance because he’d opened his heart to her? Or, because he was, as he said, “a half breed”?
She had to go to him. Oh, for a few minutes of privacy! But Desi would be there to see to Eli. Maybe after lunch.
Aunt Emmaline smiled at her. “You need to sort this out, honey. Maybe—maybe we can move Eli downstairs today after lunch. Jason may need another day or two to recover, with his leg—if you don’t mind the stairs.”
Sabrina grinned. “I don’t mind, Aunt Emma. Thank you. Thank you for understanding.”
****
Jason watched while Sabrina and Desi helped Eli to his feet, his brother protesting the entire time. Their lunch had been a hasty affair, once Desi excitedly informed Eli that they were moving him downstairs. Now, Jason bit back a grin at the way Desi flitted around the room like a butterfly, chattering happily. Eli enjoyed the way she fussed over him by the look on his face. Well, why shouldn’t he? She was a beautiful girl. Maybe things would work out for them. She had seemed to have eyes only for Eli ever since they’d come here, and Desi was the kind of young woman who would flaunt convention, it seemed to him. Maybe she would find the courage to make a life with his brother. Not for the first time during this week, a pang of wistful longing washed through Jason. He wanted this damn war to be over with and from all appearances, it was nearing a close. At least, once that part of his life was over, he could get on to the next.
But what would that be? And where? He was Georgia born and bred, but…Georgia was not welcoming any longer—not to half-Cherokee soldiers who’d crossed over to fight for the Union. His Uncle Ian had done his part to raise him and Eli, but they’d heard nothing from him since Eli had left and followed Jason into Grant’s army over two years ago.
“Oh, here, Eli, now don’t hurt yourself—” Desi fluttered nearby, hovering close to the bed as Eli sat up with a groan. “Lean on me—”
Jason watched, fascinated, as his little brother grimaced in pain, and Desi fawned, patted, and made sympathetic noises. Finally, he could keep quiet no longer.
“Eli, stand up. For God’s sake, it’s not a broken leg, it’s a bullet wound in your shoulder.”
Eli’s smile faded quickly as he shot Jason a dark glance. “I’m gettin’ there.”
Jason saw Sabrina’s questioning expression, but she turned away quickly, helping Desi get Eli to his feet.
“Feel like a damn fool wrapped in this sheet,” Eli grumbled.
“Hold onto it, Mr. McCain, or you’ll be twice embarrassed,” Desi responded pertly.
Jason watched Sabrina’s brows knit in consternation at her sister’s familiarity.
That was the problem, he supposed. He and Sabrina, being the eldest, were expected to respect all the social mores and dictates, whereas Eli and Desi could be permitted a lapse in etiquette, being younger. The rules weren’t the same. And there would be many different social conventions once this blasted war was over. A new society would emerge, but where was there a place in it for people like Eli and him?
Jason listened as they made their way downstairs, laughing, talking spiritedly…it was a good, comforting sound. Eli’s and Desi’s voices became united in a happy harmony, and Sabrina’s comments stood out above all else to him, her laugh melodic to his ears.
He was alone. For the first time since he’d begun to recover, he had the chance to try what he’d been thinking of ever since that Rebel ball had cut through the flesh of his leg—trying to walk again.
He’d lost a lot of blood, and though he felt sure the Patricks had given him and Eli the lion’s share of their poor rations, his stomach had gnawed at his backbone constantly the last couple of days. He could wait, gain a little more strength, but it was hard to live with the questioning. What if he never walked again?
Now was the perfect opportunity. No one to stop him, no one to see him if he failed—only the question to be answered.
Jason pushed himself upright, trying to ignore the pain in his arm. It would bear weight, but only the slightest bit. Still, that was something. Now, if only his leg would cooperate that little amount…He’d see to it that his determination carried him the rest of the way—even if it meant only a couple of steps.
He carefully put his legs over the edge of the bed, leaning forward on his right side to put pressure on his muscles. He would do this. He’d never been used to depending on anyone else. Never had anyone but himself. The thought came to him, unwelcome and unbidden, of soft laughter and the scent of lemon verbena, and the way his brother had leaned against Sabrina when he’d stood up.
But there was no one for him to hold onto. He leaned forward a little more and moved closer to the edge of the bed. He had to do it now. Sabrina might come back up once Eli was settled. Desi would, of course, be near Eli as much as possible. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he would have a moment or two of privacy with Sabrina.
He put his hand on the wall and steadied himself as his muscles strained, flexed, and then he stood. Pain ripped through his thigh, and sweat immediately beaded on his forehead and upper lip as he took a step forward, clasping the sheet around him.
****
Sabrina started back up the stairs, trying to think of what she might say to Jason. It would be the first opportunity she’d had to speak privately to him.
A sense of unease sat like lead in her stomach. Why? She wasn’t afraid of confrontation—the Good Lord knew she’d had enough of that over the last few years. There had been a sharp edge to Jason’s words when he’d spoken to Eli. She’d never heard that from him before. Even when he’d been in the most severe pain he’d never lashed out at anyone else.
She took the top step and gained the landing, squaring her shoulders before she entered the bedroom to her right. The door stood open, and her heart jumped, then plummeted as she walked in.
Jason stood beside the bed, his eyes closed, lips compressed. His labored breathing filled the otherwise silent room.
“Oh…”
At her gasp, Jason opened his eyes and started to take a step forward.
“No!” She ran the last few steps and lifted his arm over her neck, offering her support, whether he wanted to accept it or not.
The sheet fell at their feet, and Sabrina lowered herself to the bed, Jason sitting beside her just before his legs gav
e way completely.
“Do you have to be so hard headed?” She stood up, yanking the sheet from the floor and covering him as he lay back with a harsh groan. “Why wouldn’t you wait for help?
He gave her a lopsided grin. “I did it, didn’t I?”
She jumped to her feet. “Oh, yes! You did it. All by yourself. With no help from anyone. And you nearly undid those stitches and started the bleeding again.”
“Sabrina, I stood up!”
“Yes! And look what almost happened to—”
“But it didn’t, sweetheart. I’m fine. And I’m going to be able to walk.”
She gave him a questioning look. “Well, of course you will. I said you would. Remember?”
He reached to take her hand, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bed. “People tell you things sometimes that might not be…the whole truth. I know you wanted me to walk and yes, I know it was too soon to try. But when I took that bullet, Sabrina, I—” His eyes darkened somberly, and he looked down, remembering. “There was such an explosion of pain, and then, when I tried to stand—there was no feeling for a moment. It scared me. More than about anything else ever had.”
Sabrina was quiet a moment. How could that be? After his parents being killed, and after the past four years of war and bloodshed, how could anything else be worse? But he was counting on her to understand. She reached out and touched his cheek.
“You had to be strong for Eli,” she whispered as it came to her. “I know how that is. No time for your own pain or thought for yourself at a time like that. You had to take care of him.”
He gave her a slow smile. “He was hurt—got shot just before I did.” He hesitated a moment, then continued, picking his words carefully. “All I’ve ever had was myself. I had to take care of things since I was a kid. It’s hard to trust. Hard to believe—in anything.” He gave a short laugh. “I didn’t mean to push it. But I just had to know if I could do it.”
Sabrina reached to pour a cup of water from a pitcher on a nearby night table. “And now you know.”
He tilted his head back. “Still mad?”
“I should be.” But she couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from her lips, now that the worry was over. He had called her sweetheart! Sweetheart! Of course, it had just slipped out. He hadn’t meant to. But still…he had. She held the cup out to him and he took it, drinking deeply.
“Jason, have you thought…what you might do once the war ends? Will you go back to your uncle’s?”
He shook his head and handed her the cup. “No. I—well, it’s doubtful I’ll stay here in Georgia. Just pure chance I ended up here so close to—to where I grew up.”
“Will you go up north? Try to live there? Oh, I would hate to live where there is so much bad weather.”
“No.” He smiled, his dark eyes turning teasing. “You seem like the adventuresome type, but I can’t see you going north. Now, west, maybe. Arkansas, Texas, maybe even Indian Territory—”
“I’ve often wondered what it would be like—traveling to a new place and setting up a home from the very barest necessities.”
“Hard. Under the best of conditions.” His look turned speculative. “It would take someone who was really strong.”
Sabrina moistened her lips. “I’m…strong.”
“I know you are. My guardian angel.” He reached for her and laid a hand on her cheek. “I’d be lying if I told you I thought I’d survived on my own.”
She looked down. “But we weren’t really talking about me, were we? We were talking about what you would do.”
“Yeah. Too much talk right now, I’m thinking.” His fingers moved around to the back of her neck, pulling her nearer. He tried to close the space between them, but Sabrina’s hands splayed across his chest.
“Why, Mr. McCain,” she said breathlessly, “I’d almost think you were angling for another kiss.”
“Damn straight,” he growled, finally lying back into the bed as he urged her down the last remaining inches, her lips coming atop his as gently as summer rain.
She savored the way his fingers wound in her hair, then caressed her neck, his tongue playing along her lips and teeth, tasting her, inviting her to sample him as well.
She was lost in his kiss as it turned from its gentle beginnings to a hotter, wilder joining that filled her with an urgent need she’d never experienced.
“Jason…” she whispered, lifting her mouth from his.
He put a finger to her lips. “Listen—”
Every muscle in his body strained as if waiting to hear something, and a moment later, Sabrina heard it as well. Horses, riding fast and hard.
“Eli!” He fought to rise from the bed, but Sabrina pushed him back down.
“No! I’ll see to Eli. I’ll see no harm comes to him. You stay here, Jason, out of sight.” She turned to hurry for the door, then whirled around to face him again. “For pity’s sake, please don’t try to get up again! Try, just try—to trust someone to handle this—”
Then, she bolted from the room.
****
Jason could hear Sabrina’s light steps on the stairs, muffled voices from the lower part of the house raised in anxious anticipation. The front door hadn’t been opened yet, but he could make out voices outside, and the restive movement of the horses.
Never had he felt more at odds with himself and the world around him. He was just as Georgian as any of his Confederate countrymen; though, since the Removal, with his obvious Cherokee blood, he had been disenfranchised from his home even before his birth. The people his father had thought of as friends had become murderers and land thieves. His own uncle had given him and Eli a thin welcome and a relieved goodbye.
Being here with Sabrina had made him realize all he’d missed; all that might have been his to own had his parents lived—a warm, loving home with family. And now that he understood what had vanished from his life so early, he found he wanted it above everything else.
He wanted Sabrina above everything else.
A wry smile twisted his lips. That was just the way his luck seemed to be running lately. Now that he’d figured out what he wanted, he was probably not going to live to be able to claim it. And even if he let her know his feelings, what did that mean? She was a gentle-born woman. Would she even consider him, being half-Indian as he was? The look in her eyes said she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Would she allow it to happen? It may not matter, if the riders outside were Confederates, he thought grimly.
Downstairs, the door was opened and there was a low hum of voices. Aunt Emmaline’s rose above the other in a fervent burst.
“Thank God it is over!”
Over? That could only mean one thing. As the door shut once more and the voices became more indistinguishable, Eli’s exuberant shout punctuated Jason’s musings. The sound of the hoofbeats rippled and became indistinct in the distance. The war was over.
Hurried footsteps sounded on the stairs, and in moments, Sabrina appeared in the doorway, her smile radiant. “Did you hear? The war is over!” She ran to him and knelt at his bedside. “It’s finally over.”
He reached out and touched a strand of golden hair. Right now, he was happier to see her again than to hear the news of the war’s end. He’d never been unsure of himself with ladies of the night—but when it came to courting a true lady such as Sabrina Patrick, he found himself at a loss for the right words. Or, maybe it was the fear of rejection that stopped him. Lust was a very different matter than love. He truly had nothing to offer Sabrina but his heart—and that was a scarred and twisted prize, especially unworthy of her.
“Yes. I heard.” His voice sounded withdrawn, even to his own ears.
But Sabrina wouldn’t allow it. She reached to place both hands on his cheeks. His lost eyes found hers and he was once more brought into the wonder of her smile.
“You should be happy, Jason,” she chided softly. “Why aren’t you? No more fighting, no more death and bloodshed. Maybe we’ll be able to put a decent meal
on the table eventually. Why…the next time you—you pass this way…” Her voice trembled brokenly and then trailed away.
His thumb caught the tear that slipped down her cheek. His heart ripped in two at the sound of her soft sob.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she drew back. “I should be happy, too, to see an end to it.”
Jason watched her struggle to try and maintain her composure. “But you’re not?”
“Yes. I mean, of course, but…” Finally she gave up and let the tears come, her blue eyes glistening like halo-shrouded stars. “Jason, I can’t be happy when I think of you leaving here and that I might never see you again.”
A spark of hope lit inside him, though he knew it was probably wrong for both of them. He was a half-breed. No land. No title. Nothing to offer her.
“Sabrina—”
“And I—I’ve got something to tell you.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I do. You think you only have yourself to depend on. Oh, I know it’s been that way for you ever since you can remember. And you’ve had to be strong for Eli, too. But sometimes, you get to be too tough for your own good and you start to lose hope and love and decency that you’ve held dear in your soul because you begin to think all there is, is strength and being invincible.”
Jason had to admit, she had him pegged.
“You start to take on the blame for everything and share none of the glory, none of the goodness.”
“Now, hold on—”
Jason's Angel Page 3
