Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  Shannon didn’t want to eat cold vegetables from a can, but she was hungry. “Let’s save the soup for a fire,” she coaxed.

  “That leaves carrots, peaches, and green beans to share.”

  Shannon wrinkled her nose and brow. “Do the honors, sir.”

  When Shannon could stomach no more of their meal, she went to the creek to wash her hands and face. Blane joined her, squatting and splashing water on his face and neck. Sitting on the bedroll, Shannon unbraided her hair and began brushing it.

  Blane suggested, “Tell me about your family and home.”

  Shannon ceased her chore and stared ahead thoughtfully. She was glad he wanted to know about her, “Andrew Greenleaf was an unusual man to come from genteel aristocratic stock. He didn’t think or behave like most Southern landowners who possessed wealth and a matchless bloodline. In a way, he was selfish and rebellious. You Texans would call him a maverick or a renegade, but he was a clever and subtle one. I don’t think Papa ever realized that his wishes came first. There were times when I wondered if I knew him or understood him at all. He was one of those dreamers who felt that if people didn’t know certain things, they couldn’t be hurt or influenced by them. And yet, family honor and name were very important to him, sometimes too important,” she murmured, pushing aside those painful memories.

  “Papa could be tough, even merciless, if necessary. Most of the time, he was a good man, a strong one with a compelling personality. After Mama died, he was restless. That’s when he got mixed up with Simon Travers; he wanted someone to help him run the factor business. With memories of Mama haunting him at Greenleaf, he needed to get away from the plantation for long spells. He never believed in slavery, so we employed workers for the fields and in our home. Papa traveled up and down the coast and to Misssissippi and Louisiana, buying or bargaining for cotton crops. Until ’56, he spent a lot of time in your Texas. He had made…special friends there during the Mexican War. Then he began staying home more, letting Simon handle most of the firm’s affairs. I was hoping he would meet another special woman, but he never remarried. Losing his love was extremely hard on him—too hard.”

  Shannon began brushing her hair again as she talked. “Papa believed that a man was responsible for his own fate and good fortune. And he didn’t think a woman should have any say-so about business or politics. I was glad he took those trips so I could do whatever I pleased. When Papa was around, I had to be the perfect lady. I had to entertain neighbors like the Thorntons and their offensive son, James. For awhile I was terrified old man Thornton was going to convince Papa to hand me over to that snake. I would have run away from home before marrying him.”

  Blane chuckled but held silent. Shannon grinned. “When Papa was away, Temple looked after the plantation and family. He was the strong, quiet type, like you. He was a caring person. He was sensitive and gentle. Everybody liked Temple and enjoyed his company. He never wanted or tried to hurt anyone. The other men knew they could trust him. But he could be very sly. He and Papa teased each other pointedly, but they never argued. Temple would listen to Papa’s orders and pretend to obey them. As soon as Papa left home, Temple did what he knew was best for the family and our lands. If Papa ever caught on to Temple’s deceit, he never corrected it. My brother was special, full of life and love. He used to talk to me for hours about anything and everything. If I had a problem, Temple always had time and answers for me.”

  Shannon was quiet for a time. “I’m not sure I believe he and Papa are dead. It’s as if they’re away on a trip. I keep thinking and feeling I’ll see them again soon. Papa could be a hard man, but I loved him dearly. I remember him with Mama. I think he loved her more than life itself. Papa could be as gentle as Temple but as rascally as Corry. I couldn’t understand him after her death. He was as happy and content as when Mama had been alive. By accident, I learned why he had spent so much time in Texas, and why he stopped going. It took me a long time to understand how someone could love two people at the same time.” Shannon had decided to slowly start dropping hints about her past. Perhaps soon she would be able to relate everything.

  Blane didn’t take her statement as she had hoped. He argued, “No, Shannon, it isn’t possible to love two people at the same time, not in the way you mean. A man can be fascinated and charmed by his mistress, but he would never marry her. Desire and love are not the same. They can be partners, but desire can work alone. Perhaps your father used love to excuse his behavior to himself and his family. If he truly loved your mother, there would have been no room in his heart for another woman. If he loved the other woman, he couldn’t have been happy with your mother. You must accept it for what it was—a weakness, a flaw. Love is all consuming, Shannon; there isn’t enough of yourself left to share with another person.” He paused. “Tell me about your home.”

  Shannon didn’t refuse his words. She needed to give him more time to know her before adding Hawke to her father’s list of flaws and weaknesses. Would a bastard half-brother color his opinion of her? She let him change the subject. “Wait until you see Greenleaf, Blane. It’s beautiful. The entrance is half a mile from the house. There’s a five-feet high wall the color of sand and you have to ride under a huge arch. On either side of the arch, there is a hand-painted branch of magnolia leaves and over the top it says Greenleaf. Once you pass under the arch, the road is shaded by two rows of live oaks. Their branches bow and meet overhead to form a green tunnel, and gray moss hangs from them and sways in the breeze.” She closed her eyes and envisioned the sight. “Our yards are filled with magnolias, live oaks, roses, camellias, dogwoods, and countless azaleas. You should see it in the spring. It’s breathtaking. There’s a gazebo in the garden. I used to go there every morning to read or study. The house is huge, with four towering columns across the front. I won’t tell you any more; you’ll have to see it for yourself when we get there.”

  Blane couldn’t tell her that he had seen it several times before. She was right; it was elegant and beautiful. He had known after hearing her name that she was rich and polished. If not for the war, she could have had her choice of husbands, just as wealthy and refined. Why Hawke? Why Blane Stevens? Thornton had been mistaken; it wasn’t because she was a spoiled, moltenblooded vixen who craved “rogues.” “What about Corry?” Blane ventured. “You forgot him.”

  “Corry…How does one describe Corbett Greenleaf?” she asked herself mirthfully. “He’s a charmer, Blane. He’s funny and bright, but carefree and impulsive—like someone you might know,” she jested, then laughed. “As you might imagine, he and Papa came to verbal blows many times. He couldn’t stay quiet like Temple. No, Corry always shouted out his opinions. Papa used to take Corry with him on certain trips and make him work along the way. He thought it would take some of the wildness out of him. Papa never understood Corry. He had such a zest for life and adventure. He was a lot like you’ve described yourself. Maybe the Cavalry was what he needed. He has a smile that would warm the coldest day. You know, those kinds of smiles that use everything: eyes, lips, face, bearing. He’s irresistible. Every woman who meets him wants him and chases him.”

  Shannon looked over at Blane, who was paying close attention to her words. She was warmed and delighted by his interest, and she continued. “Corry is nothing like Papa or Temple. I think he has wanderlust in his blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a sailor. He loves to travel. He loves a challenge. Papa used to say he couldn’t sit still long enough for a fly to land on him. At social gatherings, Corry was always the center of attention. Both men and women liked him. Despite his ego and restive nature, Corry was a vulnerable person, and easygoing. But I doubt he revealed his true self to many people. That’s why he and I got along so well; he could be himself with me, and I could do the same with him. We used to hunt and fish and ride together. The autumn before the war started, Corry changed. He started pulling into himself. I know it had something to do with what happened on his last trip west with Papa.”

  “What happene
d on the trip?” Blane asked.

  “I don’t know. Corry and…Papa wouldn’t tell me. When they got home, they were hardly speaking. It wasn’t like Corry to keep secrets from me and Temple. Something was eating at him. If the war hadn’t begun, I think Corry would have left home that spring. If I hadn’t lost my bag, I would show you their pictures.”

  “Being a female, didn’t you ever scold Corry about his many conquests? Think of all the hearts he must have broken.”

  Shannon stared at him. “Corry never made promises to women. It wasn’t his fault if they chased him and wooed him. Do you hold yourself responsible for the broken hearts you’ve left behind?”

  Blane chuckled. “I try not to break any hearts,” he asserted.

  “Corry didn’t do so deliberately. Women found him appealing. They practically battled to see who would be on his arm at the next event. He went out with many girls, and he never misled them.”

  “How do you know what was said or done in private?” he teased.

  “I know Corry, and he never would have been cruel intentionally. But can you blame a man for accepting a woman who throws herself at him?”

  Blane laughed devilishly when Shannon turned red at her words. “Don’t laugh, or I’ll smack you,” she warned. “You men have the upper hand. You can do or say whatever you please, but women can’t. It isn’t fair for you to have so much freedom and fun. If a woman wants to do the same, she either has to pay the price or resist such impulses.”

  “Neither of your brothers married? How old are they?” he asked.

  “Temple…died when he was twenty-three. He was going to be wed in May of’61. When the Greenleafs sided with the Union in April, Mister Jamison canceled the wedding. Temple and Clarissa had planned to elope as soon as the conflicts were settled. What could Mister Jamison have done after the fact? I wrote her about Temple’s…death, but I don’t know for sure if she received my letter. I suppose I should call on her when we reach Savannah.”

  “And Corry?” he hinted quizzically.

  “Like me, he’s never met anyone who suited him. He was waiting for that one special person who comes along unexpectedly and steals your breath and thoughts. Besides, he was only twenty when the war started. That’s hardly a confirmed bachelor.”

  “Let’s see…That would make Corry twenty-three now. A nice age for getting married and settling down with a wife and child. Any woman should enjoy going to live at your Greenleaf. Corry is the heir now.” He paused. “What are you looking for in a man, Shannon?”

  “One who has all of the best qualities of my father and brothers, with none of their weaknesses or flaws. I like the strong, silent type who knows when to be gentle and funny. I want him to be brave and clever. I want him to be rich and famous and powerful. I want him to be perfect,” she jested, then winked at him. Thinking she was flattering him too much, she mischievously added, “And I do love dark eyes and hair against tawny skin, and white teeth. To be enchanting and appealing, he must be handsome and virile and utterly charming.”

  “What about whiskey-eyed wheat-heads?” he wailed playfully, annoyed by her words. Why must she remind him of Hawke! Damn her, she belonged to him! She couldn’t love and have both of them!

  “They’ll do, if I have no other choice,” she replied, laughing. She assumed Blane understood how she felt about him and knew she was teasing. When she noticed he wasn’t smiling, she ventured, “Take Blane Stevens for example; there’s a man who could enchant any woman. Who could resist those hazel eyes, that tawny hair, bronzed skin, and abundant charm? He’s fairly close to being perfect, if he would stop being so bossy and overprotective.”

  “I thought women liked men who took command of situations, who protected them from all harm, who knew how to please them. Have I been using the wrong approach and talents on you?”

  “I told you, Major Stevens, you’re almost perfect. Tell me more about you and your family,” she encouraged. “What about your other sister, besides Lucille? Where’s the new ranch?”

  “Eleanor Stevens met one of those charmers like Corry. He convinced her he was in love with her, seduced her, got her pregnant, then left. She hasn’t heard from him since. When I left for the war, Ellie was still praying for his return. That’s why I took this job for Lincoln, to travel around helping the Union while I search for the bastard who ruined my sister. When I locate him, I plan to kill him.”

  “Has she tried to contact him? What if there was a reason why he couldn’t return. If I were you, Blane, I would give him a chance to talk before I shot him. Sometimes there are very good reasons why two people can’t marry. Don’t be impulsive, or you may regret it. Are you so sure Ellie’s wrong about him returning?”

  “Yes, Shannon, I am. As of January of ’61, the charming rogue left my sister with a bastard son to make sure she remembers him. He’s never tried to reach her or to accept his responsibilities. Clayton and Jory contacted him twice, but the son-of-a-bitch denied even knowing her. When Jory warned him I was coming after him to haul him back to Texas to marry Ellie, he wrote back and insisted I try to do just that. He claimed he wasn’t to blame and Ellie would have to find someone else to force into marriage. By the time I located his home, he had taken off. I still haven’t found him. When I do, he’ll wish he had married her. I promised myself and my family I would keep him from ruining another girl’s life.”

  “That was years ago, Blane. What if he’s changed? What if he loves her and wants to marry her? He could have returned to Texas after you left. Please talk before you kill him.”

  “I got word from home while I was in Washington, meeting you of all people. Fate sometimes amazes me. When this war is over and I return home, I plan to find Ellie a good husband, one who deserves her and…her son. That ring you’re wearing, I bought it for her. A mother looks better wearing a wedding ring, doesn’t she?”

  She advised him, “Don’t push her, Blane. Love comes along rarely. A woman can’t accept just any man in her life. Let her find the right man to replace him,” she urged. “Maybe you can’t love two people at the same time, but you can find new love, can’t you?”

  Blane studied Shannon’s expression. Her words struck him oddly. Maybe…Blane shook his head. Even if Hawke wasn’t between them, Corry was. How could he be so cruel to Ellie as to bring the sister of her traitorous lover into the family? How could Shannon deal with living with Ellie and little Corry? How could she deal with the truth about her brother? “How does a son replace a father, Shannon? There is no acceptable reason on earth for a man to deny his son his rightful name, to tag him a bastard. If you give life to a son, you owe him. What kind of man could reject his son, could be so cruel to him? Such a snake deserves to die.” He stared off at the horizon to break the somberness of his mood. “I’m tired. How about you?”

  “Exhausted, partner..” She yawned and reclined. Heaven help her, how could she ever explain Hawke after what Blane had told her?

  “I’ll check around before turning in. You go to sleep. Tomorrow’s another long, dusty day.” Blane vanished into the darkness. When he returned, Shannon was asleep, as he had hoped.

  He gazed down at her, praying silently, Lord, help me if I’m wrong about Shannon and me and this situation. Blane decided that the woman asleep before him couldn’t be a good enough actress to have hidden her knowledge of Corry’s treacherous actions during the spring of ’60 or her fear at hearing him vow lethal revenge. No, Corry hadn’t confided that secret. But could Shannon’s brother be persuaded to do the right thing by Ellie? From Shannon’s talk, it didn’t sound as if Corry had any reason not to marry his sister. If he could solve Ellie’s problem and restore her honor without killing Corry Greenleaf, he could have Shannon.

  Chapter Eight

  That next morning, it had been easy for them to sneak around the Rebel encampment. But as they traveled during the next two days, Shannon became aware of Blane’s curious mood. Since the night they had camped after leaving the Thomases, he had been quiet and
unresponsive. At times, he had even been edgy and terse. Throughout their lengthy rides, she had felt the tautness in his body. Whenever they had halted for breaks or sleep, he had avoided unnecessary contact and conversation. She could tell something was troubling him, but it seemed a different kind of mental turmoil than that which he had undergone before their intimacy.

  Was it she or he? Were fears of their getting too close worrying him? Shannon was annoyed and dismayed by his distance. The nights were getting cooler, and she craved his body heat and the comfort of his arms. Had she disappointed him the night they had made love? Perhaps their familiarity or intimacy threatened him. She remembered Corry telling her that men got nervous and sometimes nasty when a girl either started meaning too much to him or started getting too possessive. If that was the problem, she needed to be patient and understanding. But for how long?

  Another difficult day on the trail passed. Shannon was exhausted and irritated when they halted at dusk, for they hadn’t gone unnoticed all day. Around two, Blane had been forced to fight two men who had tried to steal their horse and supplies. He had fussed and resisted when she had wrapped his bruised and bloodied knuckles, perhaps because she had been the one to get the drop on the two men and deter them. Since the nettling incident, they had spoken little.

  Blane made camp near a deep gully through which ran a narrow stream. The banks were over five feet high and the water was only eight or nine inches deep. Blane felt it was safe to build a campfire.

  Shannon refrained from questioning him in his present foul mood. She watched him open the tin cans and warm the soup, but didn’t so much as glance at her. After handing her one, he swiftly consumed the other, then told her he would be gone for about an hour.

  Shannon watched him vanish into the woods, then sighed heavily. She walked to the edge of the bank and gazed down at the water. She smiled. If Blane had chosen this spot, then it would be safe, she assumed. Since he would be gone for awhile, why couldn’t she bathe quickly? Shannon made her way down the steep incline, then yanked off her clothes. Chilly air swept over her skin. She hurriedly wet her body, lathered herself, then rinsed off. She had no choice but to dry off with her dirty shirt. With the blanket wrapped around her, she washed her pants and shirt as thoroughly as possible. She flinched when she heard Blane’s laughter. “Stay where you are!” she shouted at him.