The Forgotten Debutante (Cotillion Ball)

by Becky Lower

  Well, if she couldn’t limit her involvement, she could at least limit her reaction to him. She recalled how he’d tasted as they’d kissed: of the stolen apples he’d taken from her horse. Her reaction to him now was merely because he had been the first boy to ever kiss her. Nothing more than that. She glanced his way again.

  The impudent boy was now a man and not someone to toy with. Still, he had been responsible for her two-month-long incarceration, and he needed to suffer for it as much as she had. Since they were to work together, she’d have to be on guard against her feelings for him, maybe even torment him a bit. She could tell he was still attracted to her. Hadn’t he called her pretty only a few minutes ago?

  Yes, she’d toy with his affections for a while. The idea pleased her. It would be quite some time before he got a second kiss from her.

  Even as she pondered how to torment him, she was aware she was counting on there being a second one.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The long day finally was at an end, and Saffron was back in the safety of her brother’s home and with his family at the dinner table. She had no idea how she’d made it through working beside Zeke for four, long hours. Hours in which she would have sworn she hadn’t breathed. But she had, and she would tomorrow, too. She would endure working with him for as long as it took to locate and move his brothers’ remains so he could return to the farm.

  Then, the missing thread, the reason they’d collided in time three years ago, would be found and neatly tied up, and she could get on with her life. The reason she’d become a volunteer at the Sanitary Commission and opened a folder on each of the Boone brothers in the first place was to wrap up the story. And to wrap up the blasted war, which had affected her life for years. The war had stolen her childhood, just as it had Zeke’s. She would ignore the sparks filling the room each time he brushed her arm or laughed. He didn’t need to be privy to how her body responded to him. Best to keep such information to herself.

  Now that the war had finished, she needed to catch up on her life. To dance, to have some fun, to live life as fully as her sisters had before the war interfered.

  It didn’t matter if she was as clumsy at a waltz as she was at anything else. She longed to dance. In the arms of a man who could lead her through the steps with strength and grace, so she wouldn’t step on his toes. Someone with strong, broad shoulders leading to a narrow waist. She wondered if Zeke even could dance. After all, there aren’t a lot of ballrooms in the country.

  Or had he been to a lot of dances? Maybe not in fancy ballrooms, but surely there were country dances. She had no idea what his life on the farm had been. Maybe his younger sisters had female friends who dropped by, hoping to entice him. Good Lord, maybe he was married already! She hadn’t even asked.

  Well, she would tomorrow. As she delicately carved the roast beef on her plate, she strategized what she would say to him so the subject would come up in normal conversation. She certainly couldn’t have him assume she was interested in his life. That their kiss on that fateful day had meant anything at all. That she had wondered frequently about him as she compiled what information she could on his brothers and their fate.

  “Saffy, you’re a million miles away,” Grace spoke to her softly. “Whatever has your mind buzzing?”

  Saffron shook her head to clear away the vision of green eyes and attacked her roast beef with a vengeance. She stabbed a piece with her fork and chewed the succulent meat for a moment, giving herself time to come up with an appropriate response.

  “It’s nothing, Grace. Today was a busy one, with a new recruit to train. I’m a little tired.”

  Halwyn glanced her way. “The new recruit is a good-looking young man, as well, Grace. Saffy neglected to say anything about his appearance.”

  Grace’s head swiveled back to Saffron. “So tell me about him.”

  God’s teeth. Grace could be as relentless as her own mother was.

  “There’s nothing much to tell. His name is Ezekiel Boone. Zeke for short. His brothers fought at Chancellorsville, so he’ll be invaluable to the effort. It takes a lot, though, to explain the system we’ve set up and to get him trained.”

  “Well, then, you must head to bed right after dinner if this young man has worn you out so.”

  “He hasn’t worn me out. I’m merely a bit tired.” If Grace only could see into her mind, she’d be shocked at why Saffron was so exhausted. Having to act as if nothing about Zeke bothered her all day was the most demanding thing she’d done since she’d been in DC.

  She followed Grace’s advice and headed to her bedroom soon after dinner. However sound her intentions about falling into a dream-like state immediately upon closing her bedroom door, she could not control the memories that came flooding back when she was alone.

  Her first encounter with a man, her first real kiss, wasn’t supposed to have happened on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. They should have met at a dance, and he should have been so enchanted by her he’d have come round the next day and taken tea with her and Mother. Then, they’d have met up again at another ball and continued to get to know each other. A kiss signaled the start of a relationship, not the end. The blasted war had turned everything upside down.

  But now, thanks again to the war, Zeke was back in her life for a few days, just as she’d hoped for all those years ago. Just breezed in as if he belonged. As if he’d never been absent all those years. He was a newer, larger version of the boy she’d helped out. His sun-streaked hair, his tanned skin, his broad shoulders, all attested to an outdoor life working the farm. And if his current looks were a result of his manual labor, then she was all for it. She’d cast furtive glances his way whenever he hadn’t been aware of her, and she appreciated the man he had become. No doubt about it. Ezekiel Boone had turned into one handsome fellow.

  She wondered if he’d noticed how she’d filled out in the intervening years as well. How her body now had curves that were missing three years ago. Her nipples sprang to life under her hand, and she closed her eyes, pretending it was Zeke’s hand on her breast and not hers. Her fingers teased the sensitive tips for a few moments, until she cried out in frustration.

  Saffron opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  “Damn, blasted war anyway.” The ceiling had no response.

  Handsome or not, Zeke was not the man for her. There was no way he could be, even if the war had changed everything. He had obligations to his family upstate, and she would eventually return home to her family’s brownstone in New York City and take up her rightful place in society. Their paths should never have crossed, even once. Now they’d crossed twice. She’d cried buckets for him when she was fifteen. For what he’d been through, for their short, star-crossed time together.

  She’d be damned if she’d do it again. Even as she admonished herself, a single teardrop escaped her eye and slid down the side of her face and into her ear. She didn’t even try to brush it away.

  • • •

  Zeke stared at the ceiling in his small room in the boarding house, following the crack extending from one side to the other. He could not have slept even if he’d just plowed an entire field. His body hummed with frustration, his insides still knotted up, as they’d been all day. Saffron Fitzpatrick was back in his life, where she never should have been in the first place. The war had brought them together once again. Full circle. Sleep was not something he was interested in right now. What he needed to do was to roll back every moment of his day, to embed everything in his mind and store it away in his memory for him to take out and relive on blustery winter nights on the farm. She’d changed since their first meeting, become more of a woman. But she’d been pretty damn spectacular at their first acquaintance, as well.

  Over the years, he’d reminisced about Saffron, more than he’d ever admit to. Daily, hourly, at first. Then, his memory of their encounter began to taper off to weekly, monthly, or whenever someone brought up the subject of his time on the battlefield. But to see her again, a
s a grown woman instead of a coltish young lady, and to have the good fortune to work alongside her, was a bit of kismet he hadn’t been prepared for.

  He’d stolen glances at her when she wasn’t aware of it, and noticed how shapely she’d become. He’d found reasons to touch her, for a brief collision of their fingers, so he could feel his heart speeding up, especially when he’d noticed the blush on her cheeks caused by the contact.

  Once he had returned home from the war, Naomi Witherspoon had come calling at the farmstead. She had been Ben’s intended but latched onto Zeke, since he was the only one remaining of the band of brothers. Zeke could muster up no feelings for her and blamed it on the shock and horror he’d experienced in battle. Naomi had wandered off when she sensed his indifference, and quickly married someone else. In reality, his indifference toward Naomi was because she didn’t have yellow-blonde hair and lips tasting of peaches. Or enticing curves and a lovely laugh.

  Saffron was a different story. He didn’t even need to try to muster up feelings for Saffron. Quite the opposite. They sprang from his core the moment he was introduced to her. Again. He now had the opportunity to work beside her, if only for a couple of days. To get acquainted with this impetuous person even more. His problem now had become not how to find feelings for a woman, but how to keep them under control.

  Even as he assessed his feelings, he tried to talk himself out of investing more time with her. After all, it was a fool’s journey, and he’d only end up heartbroken again. He was a farmer’s son. She had been born to wealth and privilege. He had dirt under his fingernails and manure on his boots. She had lace handkerchiefs and satin slippers. If he allowed his feelings to deepen, he’d only be setting himself up for a fall. Her father would never agree to allow a poor farmer into the family, even if she approved of him. No, it was best to stay away. Avoid the situation altogether. Consider their reunion a strange coincidence that never should have happened even once, much less twice. How the Fates must be laughing at him.

  How he would accomplish his mission while he was sitting beside her would be the challenge. His body tingled when her eyes slid down his frame, and his manhood had been hard as a boulder all day from being in her presence. How could he continue working with her for weeks? Maybe longer? He could not be in perpetual arousal for months without doing some lasting harm to his manhood; he was certain of it.

  Instead of continuing to stare at the ceiling, Zeke rose and began to pace.

  “Damn, blasted war, anyway. Things will never be the same.” His utterances as he strode around the room bounced off the walls with no answers forthcoming. He gazed out at the gloomy darkness and opened the window. Rain was coming; he could smell it on the wind.

  In true farmer fashion, he could predict the weather with a fair degree of accuracy. And predicting the weather beat guessing the outcome of his current set of circumstances. Yes, the Civil War had changed the lives of most Americans, and it was up to each one of the survivors to create a new order, a new normal. Where Saffron fit into his new order, he had no clue.

  Could a wealthy Manhattanite and a poor, upstate dirt farmer ever have a future together? Before the war, Zeke would have said a definite no. He still doubted it, but now there was a smidgen of hope sprinkled in—hope he could change the natural order of things. But he’d keep his feelings for her to himself, at least until he could determine if she reciprocated them. If he were to announce to Halwyn that he had served in the military, fought in the battles they were working on, he’d be hired full time and could work alongside Saffron daily. Then, he could see where this collision of their two worlds would lead. It would be taking a huge chance if the military decided to press him on his service, but Saffron might be worth the gamble. If she were at all interested.

  All he could do was be the farmer he was and plant some seeds with her. Seeds of a friendship. Seeds of hope for a future together.

  He’d keep his own seeds of doubt at bay until he spent more time with her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Saffron hurried through breakfast the next morning, barely tasting the flaky biscuit she had slathered with butter. She walked the couple blocks from their DC townhouse to the imposing building where the Reburial Program was housed. The war did produce one side effect that pleased Saffron: The stringent rules of society had been relaxed at least a bit, and she could be by herself as she walked instead of having a blasted escort with her at all times. She supposed she should be grateful for small favors.

  Saffron hoped to get to the office before Zeke showed up. Despite her sense of urgency, she slowed her pace and enjoyed the scenery. The weather here was milder than New York City. She breathed in deeply as she stopped to take in the view and to listen to the birds as they swooped and dove over the reflecting pool, pausing on their way south for the winter.

  She also hoped to take a few moments to alleviate her jitters. The mere idea of spending another day with Zeke made her head ache and her heart pound. She sat on a bench, and pressed her fingers to her temples. What would she do if he touched her again? Admittedly, their physical contact had been minimal the previous day, merely their fingers innocently brushing up against each other as they shuffled papers and filed reports. But had they been innocent touches? Had he noticed her intake of breath as his fingers grazed hers? Had he sensed the heat creeping into her, as if his touch had set her on fire? Had he seen the sparks flying through the air between them?

  She had to get to the office first and become so engrossed in her work that, if and when he did show up, she’d acknowledge him with a mere nod of her head. She’d keep her eyes downcast and not stare in fascination as she had done yesterday. There had to be a way to work with him and not let her feelings get in the way. Feelings she was certain were one-sided. For months after he’d disappeared into the Bronx woods, she searched for him around every bend and in every dark corner, certain he’d come back for her. But eventually she had stopped expecting to see him.

  Yet all it took was one day with him in such close proximity and her mind was mush, her knees were weak, and her soul cried out. She needed to get herself under control and treat him as she did the other men in the office. As someone of no consequence.

  She raced into the small room to which she’d been assigned, and stopped in front of the desk. Zeke was already in place and searching through a file. He glanced up from the papers and greeted her with a lazy grin.

  “Good morning. I see you slept in. I started working without you.”

  Her mouth went dry. If he was going to be nonchalant, by God, so was she, even if she had to grit her teeth to do so.

  “I’m not late; you’re early.”

  “I was eager to get back to work. To spend more time together. You helped me get home to take care of my family when I needed a hand. I’m going to be forever in your debt, Saffron. I’m hoping we can become the best of friends.”

  “Oh.” She whispered her response and ran her hand over her gown once again as she fell into a seat next to the desk. Friends? All he wished for was for them to be friends? She tossed her hair over her shoulder. If friendship was all he wanted, it would be all she wanted, too. “Well, all right then, friend. I found out some information last night that should interest you.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her. “What?”

  “The program is far ahead of where we assumed we’d be, thanks in part to the work we’ve all been doing on our own for the past few years. So they are ready to send workers into the field to retrieve and identify the first of the bodies.”

  Zeke jumped to his feet and began to pace around the small room. She ran for the seat behind the desk, which had been hers alone before he arrived. She had to reclaim her territory. And she had to sit. It made her dizzy to follow his movements, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  “Where are they headed first? Can I go? And you? Are you going to make the trip, since you have all the records?”

  She grinned at him. “Such an impudent man you’v
e become. But I guess I should have expected it, considering what a brash boy you were. Yes, we’re both going to Manassas next week if you want to stay a bit longer. If we can prove our record-keeping works in finding the bodies there, we’ll launch into a full-scale retrieval next spring. But we have a ton of work to get done before we go, so we’d best get started.”

  Zeke finally sat across from her, all the energy drained from his body. “Manassas? Not Chancellorsville? Why?”

  “It’s the closest battlefield to DC, and will be a good test for our system. I guess if you want to be on hand to retrieve your brothers’ bodies, you’ll have to stick around until spring now.”

  He gazed at her from across the desk, his green eyes glittering. He ran a hand over his chin, but the movement did little to hide his wide smile. “Appears so, although your brother did say the only long-term hires for the program were to be former military, and a few women, for secretarial duties.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem for you. Simply tell Halwyn of your service, and he’ll hire you.”

  “Perhaps I will. I’ll send a letter home to Daddy telling him not to expect me back for a couple of months. Or maybe I could make a trip home over Christmas. I sure hope I can find something to occupy my time until winter breaks.”

  She presented him with her most haughty stare, which she had perfected by working on it for weeks in the mirror. “I’m certain you’ll come up with something. Now, what were you working on when I came in?”

  • • •

  Zeke had no idea what he’d been working on when Saffron appeared in the room. He’d noticed remnants of her scent in the room when he’d first entered, and had taken the time to inhale her fragrance. He’d grabbed and opened the first available folder when her footsteps echoed in the hallway. But even if he’d spent some time with the folder’s contents he wouldn’t have been able to tell her what he’d been reading. She had the ability to turn his mind to pig slop with a mere glance.