Sam got to his feet, pushed the chair aside, hooked his thumbs in his belt, and smiled. “Well, if you don’t love her, you sure do think about her a lot.”
“And just what in hell makes you think that? You so damned smart you see inside other people’s minds?”
“No.” He walked toward the door. “But I sure hear folks when they talk in their sleep, ‘specially when they’re calling names.”
And he walked out, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Thirty
Kitty was reluctant to take a furlough from her work at the hospital. There were so many hundreds of wounded soldiers who needed care, and doctors and nurses were in short number. Nathan kept urging her to go away for a while, so they could get to know each other all over again and regain some of the closeness they had lost. He also pointed out how weary she looked, how he feared for her health and well-being. When she repeatedly resisted, he went to one of the doctors in her unit and insisted that he grant Kitty the furlough that she did not want.
“I wish you hadn’t done that, Nathan,” she said when he came for her in the carriage. “I don’t like you meddling in my business this way.”
He shrugged. “Katherine, you always were a stubborn young woman. You just can’t see how you’re wearing yourself out. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re showing signs of age all because of the long hours you work in that hospital. And you know I don’t feel that a woman belongs in such a place.”
“You’re still bossy,” she pointed out. “You refuse to believe that a woman might have some other purpose in this life besides pleasing a man, having his babies, and sitting at home sewing and cooking.”
“You’re forgetting that I love you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek as the carriage bounced along the rutted road.
“And if I’m selfish, then so be it. I want you all to myself—as my wife.”
She frowned. In the past weeks ever since their reunion, they had talked about marriage, but something deep within told her that the time was not right. Not now. Not in the middle of the war. Still, she reminded herself that Nathan was her true love and they were pledged to each other. Maybe he was right. Going home—as Nathan’s wife—to wait for his return seemed more and more appealing to her: had she not seen too much suffering and dying, and endured such nightmares herself?
He told her that he had been able to find a room for her at the hotel in Richmond where he was staying during his furlough. “Prices are so high and the hotels are so crowded, what with families flocking in either to seek shelter from the foraging Yankees or to visit kin at the Chimborazo. I hear coffee is selling for a dollar fifty a pound now and tea for fifteen dollars. Writing paper is even selling for fifteen cents a sheet. Some of the men are even writing home on shreds of wallpaper or wrapping paper—anything they can find. And tobacco! If you can find it, it’s too high for an ordinary soldier.”
“I wonder if things are any better at home.”
“I don’t know, Katherine.” He sounded worried. “I want us to go there as soon as possible and find out. We can read the papers, but we won’t know the whole story until we go there ourselves.”
Kitty had only one other muslin dress besides the one she wore and both were hopelessly bloodstained. Nathan insisted that he take her shopping right away. “There’s a ball in the hotel tonight and I intend to have the most beautiful girl in all of Richmond on my arm.”
“I can’t let you buy a dress for me, Nathan. It seems like old times, though, doesn’t it?” she remembered sadly. “The first time you ever came calling, you invited me to a party and I didn’t have a dress to wear.”
He patted her knee, smiling. “One day, my love, you shall be the best-dressed woman in all of Wayne County. Your clothes will come from the finest fashion houses in Europe, designed just for you. Every woman around will look up to you—your style, your position, your beauty. For now, I want to buy a dress for you to wear tonight, a special night for both of us. I plan to present you to all my friends in Richmond and announce that soon we’ll be married. Soon we can put the past behind us.”
She glanced at him curiously. There were times when Nathan would stare at her moodily, lapsing into a deep silence, and she would wonder if he was remembering Luke Tate and Travis Coltrane, perhaps conjuring up an image of her in their arms. Was this the reason he talked of marriage as though it was something that had to take place quickly? Did he, perhaps, think that once they were legally wed, her body would belong to him and him alone and he could forget about the other men in her life? If so, then it would be a mistake. Nathan was a proud man, and it would take much for him ever to forget. She doubted that he ever would.
He was different somehow. He stood in his uniform with military straightness, his pistol in its holster, his scabbard smartly slapping his polished high boots, the spurs gleaming brightly. Major Nathan Collins, C.S.A.—proud and, in a way, arrogant. She had seen the way he barked orders to soldiers when they were around and the way some of them snarled at him behind his back. He was obviously disliked by those under his command. And once she did ask him about it.
And he laughed.
“Everyone is out to get an officer, Katherine. Especially the Yankees. Just like we tell our soldiers: officers don’t live in heaven. Shoot them first. Aim to wound and not to kill because a wounded man is more of a problem to an army than a dead one—especially a wounded officer. No one is going to leave him behind.”
“But why do your men dislike you?” she persisted.
He frowned, obviously annoyed that she was pursuing the subject further. “Katherine, I have to command my men, not coddle them. They have to learn to do what I tell them to do, when I tell them to do it. If it means a whipping, putting them in stocks, tying them to a caisson—whatever—I will do it and they know it and they dislike me. But they respect me and that is more important.”
And she wondered.
When they arrived at the hotel, Kitty felt extremely tired. “Please, just send up the dress you’d like for me to wear. If I’m to attend a party tonight, then I must rest.” She could not remember when she had last slept, although she did recall that a young soldier, of perhaps only fifteen or sixteen, had been dying. In his delirium, he had thought Kitty was his mother and begged her not to leave him. And she hadn’t. He had lingered for two nights, and she had sat wearily by his bed, holding his hand, comforting him when he screamed out in agony. When Nathan had found her slumped over the dead boy’s bed, exhausted, he had gone to the officer in charge to demand that she be given a furlough.
“Very well,” Nathan agreed. “I’ll send up a bath and a servant to help you dress later.”
The moment she was alone, Kitty fell across the bed and was instantly asleep. Several hours later—though it seemed to her that she had slept only a few moments—she awoke to the sound of rapping at the door.
A black woman was outside the door; behind her were two more servants carrying a large tub. The procession began once again as buckets of hot water were brought in for her bath. Kitty insisted she could bathe herself, but the woman was firm. “Major Collins told me I got to bathe you myself, ‘cause you is too tired, and he wants you to feel good tonight. Ever’body talking about that party. He got you a fine dress, and I gonna fix you up pretty. You just leave it all to Maybelle.”
So for the first time in her life Kitty allowed herself to be bathed. She was washed and then powdered with something that had a delicate, subtle fragrance, like the magnolias back home when they bloomed in the summertime.
Maybelle brought in the clothes Nathan had purchased. There were silk drawers, a silk chemise, silk stockings, and shoes. The fit was perfect. Nathan knew her size just by looking at her—and holding her in his arms, she thought with a smile.
And then the woman brought in the dress, a mist of blue taffeta trimmed in delicate lace.
“You sho’ got nice breasts,” Maybelle said bluntly, helping her with the dress. “You don’t need no stays. Lo
ts of women would give anything for breasts like yours. You sho’ better make sho’ when you have the Major’s babies that you got somebody to suck them young’uns, or you won’t keep yo’ shape. You can be sho’ of that.”
Nathan’s babies. A warmth spread to her cheeks; but it was not a feeling brought on by desire. Actually, it dawned on her that she was embarrassed to think of having Nathan’s babies. And why she felt this, way, she did not know. It was only natural when you loved a man to want to have his children. Or so she had been taught.
When she was dressed, Maybelle grinned broadly. “The Major gonna have a fit when he sees you, Miss Katherine. You is one pretty woman. I dress a lots of women, but you is the purtiest I ever dressed. And the Major, he’s so handsome. You two gonna make the finest couple in all of Richmond tonight. I gonna sneak in from the kitchen and take a peek when the dancin’ starts, just so’s I can see the two of you together. I gonna ask the Major, too, if I can come back and be your own special maid.”
Kitty did feel embarrassed then with so much fussing over her. She thanked Maybelle, then asked her to leave, saying she wanted a few moments alone before going downstairs.
She stared at her face in the mirror. There was no color in her cheeks. Nathan was right. She was tired. She pinched the flesh, watching the soft redness appear.
Then, slowly, her gaze moved down to her breasts, very exposed in the low bodice. An average-sized dress would not hold her large bosom, she realized proudly.
And then the memories came flooding back like the flash floods in the North Carolina mountains when the snows melt. It was vivid now, somewhere in the hills of Tennessee, moonlight spilling down on two naked bodies lying on a bed of grass and moss. Travis had stared at her breasts hungrily, murmuring, “Christ, woman, I’ve never seen such beauty! You drive a man wild, do you realize that?”
She had been unable to speak, her chest rising and falling nervously as she breathed heavily in anticipation of the ecstasy that was sure to come.
He had traced a line about her breasts with his fingertip—first one, then the other, squeezing the nipples between thumb and forefinger until they were taut and firm. And then he had bent down, tongue slipping from his lips to touch each rosy tip in turn. Kitty had moaned as a convulsion of desire spread through her body in a giant wave. Why didn’t he go on and take her? She could feel the pulsating throb of his manhood against her naked thighs knew he wanted to enter her and know the sweetness of release. But he seemed to enjoy touching her this way, teasing her into a quivering mass of sobbing flesh, begging to be taken again and again.
Lips parting, he sucked one breast inside his mouth, as much as he could hold. Kitty’s toes had arched downward with spasms of joy moving through her legs. His tongue moved around and around teasingly, the warm moisture causing her back to arch, strain to get even closer, give him more of her to devour and consume. His hand moved downward, touching where the flames were already burning…the fire spreading upward seeking to consume her whole body.
“Take me…please…” she had begged shamelessly. “Travis, take me. Oh, why do you torture me so?” Her nails dug into the flesh of his back and shoulders, pressing him closer as she sobbed his name over and over again.
He had moved ever so slightly as his lips moved to her other breast, deliberately letting his swollen organ tease the flesh of her inner thighs, thrusting gently, probing, letting her know that soon, very soon, she would have all of him. But not yet. Oh, no, not yet. He would make her dizzy, make her beg and whimper and plead. He was not like other men, believing a woman was only to give herself to a man and never take from him. Once they had talked at length about it, and he told her that he felt a woman should enjoy sexual pleasure as much as a man did, and she surprised herself when she finally agreed. Sex was not the unpleasant chore her mother had said it would be once she was married. Certainly it was forbidden before, but Kitty was not so certain about that anymore, either.
That had been the night Travis laughed and rolled over on his back, holding out his arms to her as he said, “Tonight, princess, you shall make love to me and give me pleasure.”
She had stared at that teasing smile in the moonlight “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, bewildered.
And he had showed her, grabbing one leg to pull it over his stomach until she was straddling his body. Then he guided her down onto him, hands clasping her buttocks firmly as he began to rock gently up and down, to and fro, rhythmically, Falling forward onto his powerful chest, Kitty felt his arms go about her back, holding her even tighter against him.
And like the crashing explosion of the artillerist-fired canister gun, they came together, and the roaring in Kitty’s ears and the pounding of her heart were like the great thundering guns of war.
She had cried out loud in her passion, and he had gently cradled her head against his shoulders to muffle the sound in the still night. And they had lain together for a long, long time, neither of them speaking.
Kitty shook herself. She was warm all over, a gnawing hunger creeping up into her loins. Goodness, what was wrong? Was she sick? She had found once again the man she truly belonged to—Nathan—and they were going to be married. So why was she wasting her time thinking about a man who never had the right to touch her in the first place? Why was she remembering the way he made her enjoy it?
Tears were stinging her eyes, and she dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief. Maybe she was even thinking about a dead man. But was Travis dead? And if he was alive, what difference did it make? They would never meet again. That part of her life was over forever. It should never have happened. When she married Nathan, they would know the same joy and ecstasy that she had shared with Travis.
And besides, she reminded herself, the times with Travis had only happened because they were in the midst of war with death hovering all about, They had to take what pleasures they could where they found them. There was no need to feel shame and guilt—unless she dwelled upon the pleasurable memories as she was doing right then while Nathan waited for her downstairs.
Opening the door, Kitty could hear the violin, a banjo, and drums.
Someone was playing a piano. The sound of the music had a persuasive urgency, and the beat was pulse-stirring. Over it, there was the murmur of a crowd, and she realized the party had already begun. How long had she been woolgathering over Travis? How was she going to explain her dawdling to Nathan?
Walking to the landing above the big staircase, she felt suddenly conscious that something was awaiting her that she had no power to control. Something was pulling, beckoning, She walked to the stairhead, placed a hand on the balustrade, and with her other hand held her skirt up so she would not trip.
And then she was aware that the music had stopped as she descended, and people were standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at her. She noted envious stares from the women, admiration from the men.
She heard Nathan’s voice ring out above the silence, the words a bit slurred as she realized he had obviously been drinking; but he sounded proud, almost defiant. “My future wife! Isn’t she beautiful? I am so proud to present to you the most beautiful woman in all of Richmond, the flower of North Carolina—Miss Katherine Wright.”
And there was an answering ripple of applause, the murmur of agreement from a few men brave enough to do so in front of their wives and sweethearts.
Nathan moved to the foot of the stairs and waited for her with his hand held out. The violin came alive in a lovely, sweeping arpeggio and then steadied itself into a moving minuet. Nathan led her forward, his thick voice whispering over and over again, “Katherine, Katherine, my own sweet, lovely bride-to-be…lovely, wonderful…”
Kitty was conscious of the outrageously deep cut of her dress, the beauty of her naked shoulders, and the swell of her bosom. Proud, at the moment, she was very proud.
The minuet ended. Then music began again and men were stepping up to dance with her, but Nathan refused to allow them the privilege. “Mine…�
�� He sounded drunk, Kitty realized with a start. “All mine and I refuse to share her with any of you.”
A few of the men arched their eyebrows; others glared angrily.
Nathan was not being a gentleman. People were beginning to stand along the walls and whisper among themselves, staring reproachfully in the couple’s direction.
“Nathan, what is the matter with you?” Kitty hissed at him in disgust. “You…you’re intoxicated.”
“Intoxicated with the beauty of you.” He laughed as he stumbled against her.
“Nathan, you’re making a fool of yourself—and me.”
“It’s hot in here.” He grabbed her hand suddenly and led her toward one of the open doors leading to the veranda of the hotel. The murmur of those staring grew louder as they moved across the floor, beneath the crystal chandeliers, past the raised stand where the musicians played, beyond the potted plants, and out into the Virginia summer night.
Nathan leaned against the marble railing, swaying momentarily, then he whipped around to look at her with bleary eyes. “Katherine, you don’t know how much I love you,” he moaned. “I thought I’d memorized everything about you—the way your hair dances with fire when the light shines on it and your eyes, so blue they’re almost purple, and how they flash with red sparkles when you’re angry. And your eyelashes…”
He reached out to touch her, but she jerked her head back. “Your eyelashes look as though they’re dusted with pure flakes of gold. When you walked down those steps tonight, it was like I’d never really seen you before, never known you were so beautiful. God, you were glowing. You looked the way I hope you look when I finally get to make love to you the way I want to…”
Perhaps the words would have meant everything had his speech not been slurred, his breath thick with the odor of drink. He reached out, grabbed her, hands mashing against her breasts as he swung her around to pin her against the railing. “I can’t wait to have you lying beside me, naked, my hands all over you…like this…”
Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 Page 40
