Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  Catherine’s laughter had ceased. “I hope you two weren’t too hot or cramped in there. The lieutenant was sleeping on the porch,” she lied for Shannon’s benefit, knowing she couldn’t fool Blane.

  “Actually, Blane makes a most comfortable bed. There wasn’t a problem until he let my cover slip to the floor.”

  “Shannon, you disappoint me. Surely you wouldn’t get angry over a silly accident?” the woman chided coolly.

  “Of course not. But that’s when it got too hot and cramped,” Shannon replied, her audacious gaze almost daring Blane to speak. Shannon’s meaning was clear to everyone. “I need another bath. Would you mind drawing more water, Blane?” she asked sweetly.

  “A quick bath, my fiery Flame, then we’re off,” he informed her, astonished and amused by her immodest conduct. “I think we both need one. Can you fetch the horses, Cathy, while my partner and I clean up? Your new admirer, Paul Barclay, might return later.”

  “I’ll help you get things ready,” Catherine offered, unwilling to leave them alone. What they did in the woods couldn’t be prevented, but she would not allow them to make love in her house. She had wanted to plant doubt and insecurity in Shannon’s mind this morning about her relationship with Blane and about Shannon’s greenness with men and the subject of sex. Clearly Blane was working his charms on the redhead, but she would give Shannon plenty of reasons to resist him. She had vowed to herself this would be the handsome rogue’s last chance to bed her and guarantee her loyalty. “You’ll need to eat before you leave.”

  “Thanks, Cathy, but we’ve got to rush.” Blane left the house to begin drawing and hauling the water for Shannon’s second bath.

  Catherine joined him at the well as he was preparing to wash the chimney’s deposits from his virile frame. Oddly, he had a surge of modesty and hesitation about stripping and bathing in front of this promiscuous woman. She reached to pull the cloth and soap from his grasp, wheedling seductively about helping him. When she began rubbing her body against his and stroking where a lady shouldn’t under these circumstances, Blane’s vexation mounted, though his passion and shaft did not. He read a matching and hazardous vexation in Cathy’s eyes.

  A rash idea came to mind and he foolishly used it to put an end to her annoying scene. “This ain’t how I planned for this visit to go, Cathy. I got stuck with that haughty bitch from Georgia. I can’t let her see us getting too close. She’s actually a Rebel spy. My mission is to unmask her and her contacts, but she’s a tough one. I’m trying to disarm her with my masculine charm, but I can’t move in on her too fast. She’ll get suspicious or jittery. As soon as I pull some facts from her, I’ll dispose of her and come back here for a proper visit—one we’ll both enjoy. Now get along before she sees us and you spoil all the progress I made last night. It won’t take long.”

  While Blane scrubbed by the well and Shannon scrubbed in the bedroom, Catherine headed for the concealed cave halfway up a nearby hill. The cave went deep into the hillside, with a fresh spring at its rear. She had staked the horses there to feed on hay and to rest, and she knew it would require at least twenty minutes to saddle and fetch them.

  Blane entered the bedroom and asked Shannon to wash the soot from his back. “Sorry, love, but I can’t reach it. Do you mind?”

  “Kneel beside the tub and don’t turn around,” Shannon told him. When he did, she moved to her knees to reach him. She soaped the cloth and washed until all traces of black were gone. Holding the cloth over her chest and sitting down, Shannon asked, “Would you please check my hair, then return the favor, partner?”

  “Delighted, Miss Greenleaf.” Blane continued to move the lathery cloth over her back and shoulders long after they were clean.

  Finally Shannon asked, “Am I that dirty? Isn’t it coming off?”

  “It’s gone, love. I was enjoying the exercise and view.”

  Shannon glanced over her shoulder. “You are a devilish beast.”

  He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “I know, love.” He left Shannon smiling and shaking her head.

  Taking a jar from the kitchen, Blane went to the yard, and caught a hen. Cutting off its head, he drained its blood into the glass container. Afterward, he concealed the jar and the dead hen from both women.

  Shannon completed her task and dressed in men’s clothes. She looked at the filthy water in the tub, then grinned. She would let Catherine empty it later. That would use up some of her excess energy!

  “Shannon, you coming?” Blane’s voice called out.

  “Shortly,” she responded as she braided her hair.

  Blane glanced at Catherine. “Don’t mention what you told me. With her being from Georgia, it would cause her to worry too much. I want to keep her real calm, so I can finish this business with her. I can’t believe he would burn Atlanta.” Blane shook his head in frustration.

  “Captain Barclay said he was destroying everything in his path. He plans to reach Savannah within two months; that’ll cut off another major port. Paul admitted that the Shenandoah Valley’s a lost cause, and Grant’s winning the Wilderness Campaign by leaps and bounds. Those foolish Rebs keep fighting and dreaming and dying. If the South doesn’t yield soon, there won’t be anything left to conquer or rebuild.”

  A lengthy silence passed between them. “Blane, can’t you stay longer? We could sneak visits to the cave to tend the horses. I want you. Just another day or two?” the brunette entreated.

  Blane responded, “Sorry, Cathy. Shannon and I have to be in Charlotte by Thursday; then we’re to head for Richmond. After I make those two stops, I won’t need her help anymore. I’ll file my report and hightail it back to you.”

  Shannon paused in the doorway, wondering if she should interrupt. She bumped the door aside to announce her entrance. Both people looked over at her. Blane smiled. Catherine grimaced.

  They ate quickly and silently. Shannon thanked Catherine for her hospitality, then dismissed herself to wait with the horses while Blane said his farewell in private. He jointed her and mounted. Catherine wished them success in Charlotte, then, as she watched their departure, they vanished into the trees, heading westward.

  After riding for an hour, Shannon asked Blane, “Where are we going? The sun’s to our left, not at our backs.”

  “South to Fayetteville. If you’re wondering about Cathy’s words, I did tell her we were heading west to Charlotte. She concealed us, but I have a curious feeling that she’s playing both sides these days. I caught her going through your bag when you left it on the table.”

  Shannon expressed surprise. “There’s nothing in there but some clothes. And I didn’t tell her anything,” she added proudly. “She gave me a bad feeling from the start. You think she’ll send them after us?”

  “Without a doubt, especially after she discovers I played her for a fool this morning,” he remarked, then described his confrontation with Cathy. “You know what they say about a scorned woman. She’ll guess the truth eventually, when I don’t return. Let’s hope I can spread the word in time for others to avoid her, just in case she’s willing to hurt someone to spite me. Besides, she’ll want to punish you. If the price is suitable—which it will be if Travers gets to her—she’ll sell us out.”

  “She had better hope it isn’t Major Clifford. He has this lust for whipping. He’ll make her sorry she works for either side—if the bastard is still alive.” Shannon blushed and frowned. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m getting as cold and cruel as they are.”

  “Either it’s the war, or the company,” he murmured.

  “Probably the bad company,” she announced with a touch of renewed humor.

  When they halted shortly thereafter near an old, dilapidated hut, Blane told Shannon to splint and bind his right leg.

  “Why?” she asked curiously.

  “We’re nearing heavy Rebel lines. I’ve got to appear wounded or they’ll never let us pass. Until we reach Fayetteville, we say we’re heading for home south of town. Then we te
ll everyone we’re heading for home near Wilmington. Now, let’s get our disguises on.”

  Shannon watched Blane rip his pants leg, then pour blood from a jar over the ragged area. He took his knife and hacked free two boards from the hut to use as splints. He placed one on each side of his right leg. “Ready, love.”

  Shannon was staring at the blood, which either rolled down his leg and pants or stuck in clots along the way. Blane shook her. She looked at him and swallowed hard. The blood smelled, and the sight of it turned her stomach. She couldn’t understand why, not after being a nurse recently under terrible conditions. “Where did you get blood?”

  “From Cathy’s hen house. But I made sure she didn’t catch me. You all right?” Blane asked, noting her pale face and trembling form.

  Shannon forced a tight smile. She wrapped the leg as Blane had requested, then watched him dribble more swiftly coagulating blood on it. She was baffled when he lay down and rolled in the dust. When he stood, he made tears in his garments, then dirtied his face and hands.

  “Now to disguise a beautiful, flaming-haired temptress. We’ll have a little more time to use your pass before news gets around about us. If Clifford made it out of that cellar, he might be reluctant to say how and why he got put there. It’s my guess he wouldn’t involve the army. I’d bet he’d wait for Travers, then put that scum on our trail. And if Travers didn’t bring his own cohorts, Clifford would probably loan him those three who met us at the entrance to the camp. I wouldn’t be surprised if Thornton joined them. And now we have Cathy craving our blood as well. We do have this way of making lots of enemies, don’t we?”

  Bewildered and alarmed, Shannon couldn’t move as he made rips in her shirt and pants. He shoved her to the ground and rolled her in the dust. Using his hands, he made certain her pale face and neck were almost as dark as his tanned complexion. When he poured blood on her left arm above the elbow, she yanked free and shouted, “What the blazes are you doing, Blane? Have you gone mad? I’m filthy.”

  He chuckled as he bandaged her arm, then dampened the white cloth with bright red liquid. “If we didn’t fool ’em into searching in the wrong direction, Blue Eyes, they could be closing in on us right now. We can’t be certain Clifford didn’t report us. If they make it to Cathy’s, she’ll blow it for us. Thing is, they’ll be seeking a handsome rogue and a beautiful enchantress. Who would recognize us now, love? Except for this flaming hair.” He lifted his knife and seized her braid.

  Shannon whirled on her seat, placed her feet on his abdomen, and kicked him with all her might. The action sent Blane toppling backward as she screamed at him. “Oh, no, you won’t! Touch my hair and I’ll cut off your hand, you crazy bastard!” Shannon had come to her knees. She was breathing rapidly as she glared at him with fiery blue eyes.

  Blane rubbed his stomach and declared, “You pack a mean blow, Flame. I was only kidding. You can hide it under your hat. Just don’t let it down to fly in the wind. It’s as enchanting as you are.”

  Blane dirtied and bloodied another bandage, then tied it around his head.

  Shannon stared at the man sitting on the ground, then at herself. “Look at me, Blane. I’m a mess again. How could you?” she wailed hoarsely as unshed tears stung her eyes.

  Blane had to admit she looked pathetic. “It’s to save our lives, Shannon. You can rest and bathe in Wilmington.”

  “Wilmington?” she echoed incredulously.

  “We have to stay in these disguises until we reach the next safe house. Wilmington is where many of the blockade runners operate. That’s where they sneak in supplies and weapons. That’s where foreign money gets in to prolong this stupid war. We have work there, so stop complaining. If you don’t like my methods, choose your own.” Eleanor’s gold band on Shannon’s finger reflected the brilliant sunlight and harshly reminded him of painful demands. “Why should I worry about you? I’m sure a Greenleaf can safely charm her way through the gates of hell.”

  Blane stood and hobbled over to his horse. Using brute strength, he lifted himself into his saddle. “I don’t plan to get ensnared or delayed by your troubles with Clifford or Thornton or Travers. We’ve got a war to fight, Blue Eyes. You coming or not?” he asked coldly.

  Shannon didn’t know what to make of his quicksilver moods. She gathered the medical supplies and stored them. She wouldn’t argue. Considering her recent luck, he was probably right again! She packed her things and mounted. “Anything else, sir?” she inquired sullenly.

  “From here on, I’m Corry Greenleaf, your newly found brother. I was fighting with General Lee northeast of Petersburg when I was wounded. You were nursing in the hospital in Fredericksburg where I was taken. Since my injury won’t heal any time soon, we decided to head home to check on our parents and plantation. You got that?”

  “What if we meet someone who knows my family or Corry? Anyway, you’re more like Temple.” She wondered if Blane was getting peeved by her determination to locate Corry, for he had spoken her brother’s name so coldly and sarcastically. She had been patient and cooperative. She was not solely responsible for their troubles!

  “Keep your eyes and ears open. If you recognize someone, call me Steven; then we’ll use our husband/wife routine. Understand?”

  No, she did not. “How can we ask about Corry if you’re pretending to be him?” she persisted in concern.

  “Didn’t you tell me he was at Andersonville Prison?”

  “I said that a man told me he might be. He also hinted about an escape. Why are you being so hateful this morning?”

  “Andersonville is several hundred miles from here, so forget about Corry for now. If he escaped, it’s possible we’ll locate him along the way. Nothing would suit me better. As for my behavior and mood, they were inspired by a childish brat who should have learned some lessons about precaution and danger by now. If you didn’t sleep well last night, blame your lecherous Rebel friends of genteel birth.”

  “Go to hell, Stevens! I’m tired of you picking on me all the time! It’s not my fault if you got stuck with me. If you have a just grievance against me, then get it out in the open so we can settle it. If not, then stop plaguing me, or complain to Lincoln, but leave me alone! From my viewpoint, you’re the only childish brat around. You aren’t the only one who’ll be enormously delighted to end our disagreeable association! I have enough on my mind without being harassed by you at least five times a day. What makes you the authority and expert on every matter? It seems to me that I’ve proven my mettle and wits by now. If you have a different opinion, that’s too bad! Forget it! You aren’t worth the time and effort it takes to try to please you!”

  Shannon gritted her teeth, then snapped her reins over her horse’s flank. The animal raced off at a rapid gallop. She heard Blane shouting after her, but she ignored him. She knew why he was calling her; the sun was at her back. She didn’t care. She had to get away from the temperamental rogue who was causing havoc with her emotions—emotions that had been in a state of turbulence for too long without the tranquil break her sanity demanded.

  Shannon kneed the animal to run faster. Suddenly a shot thundered nearby. Her horse cried out loudly, then stumbled. Another shot was fired and pain filled her head. The animal staggered and his forelegs buckled. One more shot ran in the silence. Her horse fell sideways to send her rolling from his back. She was gasping for breath as she touched her forehead, then brought red-tipped fingers before her eyes. This time, she knew it was her own blood. Two names streaked across her mind: Travers and Clifford. Her gun was missing. She tried to reach for the knife in her boot, but her head was spinning like a whirlwind. Her vision gradually blackened as she went limp on the dry grass.

  Chapter Six

  “Dadburn you, Pete! You dun shot tha hoss too!”

  “Hellfire, Horace! Me gunsight is off agin. Let’s see whut he’s a’carryin’. Leastwise some vittles er weapons.”

  After hearing three gunshots, Blane halted his pursuit and listened intently, knowing that
if he rashly charged into a blind situation, he might get both of them killed or captured. He told himself to be quick yet careful and silent. Fear and panic shot through him as forcefully and swiftly as currents of lightning.

  As the two men headed for the fallen body to rob it, Blane dismounted and left Dan, his horse, a safe distance away. He gingerly crept toward the sounds of the gunshots and voices, his movements hampered by the false splint. He dared not rush blindly to Shannon’s aid, but his nerves were taut with dread. When he peered through the bushes to see two shabbily clad ruffians approaching Shannon’s motionless figure, his rage nearly cost him his rigid control. His disguise would be of no use to him now. He jerked his knife from its sheath and sliced through the carefully wrapped bandage; then, tossing aside the splints, he quickly surveyed the situation.

  When Pete snatched off Shannon’s hat and rolled her over, he gasped in shock. “We dun shot a gal, Horace. Look, a purty’un.”

  Horace dropped to his knees by Shannon’s waist. His gaze raced over her face and figure. “Hell, Pete! We’s in big trouble. Is she dead?”

  Pete placed his ear to her chest, then flashed his friend a smile that revealed the absence of several teeth. He shoved stringy, grimy hair from his face. “Nope. What’cha think we oughtta do with her?”

  “Look at this hair, red as a sunset. Skin white as milk.”

  Horace and Pete laid aside their guns to examine their victim closely, and as they did, the Texan sprang from his hiding place. His pistol butt came down heavily on Pete’s head. As Horace turned his body, Blane’s foot kicked upward, sending a forceful blow to the man’s chin. When Horace struck the ground, Blane lunged over him and began punching his face. Blane didn’t halt until the man’s head was bloody and his own knuckles throbbed. He looked at Pete, dissatisfied with his one blow. With his booted toe, he kicked the downed man twice.