by Sara Orwig
“Oh, great heavens!” she exclaimed, pushing him away.
“What’s wrong?” he frowned, holding her with his hands on her waist.
“Your wound!”
“You startled me. I thought I’d hurt you.”
She stood up and grabbed the counterpane to wrap it around her. He stretched on the bed and reached out, catching a handful of material to tug it away. The cover fell to the floor and she stood naked before him as his gaze roamed over her.
“Caleb,” she said, blushing. Every inch of flesh felt as if his fingers caressed her instead of merely his eyes looking at her.
“Yer a beautiful woman. I want to look at ye,” he said in a husky voice, his brogue surfacing. They gazed at each other and she wanted to fling herself back into his arms. Instead, she drew a deep breath and stepped backward, trying to take her gaze from the length of him. His broad shoulders and muscular chest made her want to feel her flesh against him again. She turned abruptly and went to get water and a cloth and clean rags to bandage his arm.
To her relief the wound wasn’t deep. “This isn’t as bad as the ones you received at Shiloh.”
He was silent, still nude, his hands playing over her and it was difficult to concentrate, to keep her gaze from drifting to his body. Suddenly she felt swamped by fear for his safety and she turned to look at him.
“I’m so scared when you’re gone,” she whispered.
She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him, struggling to control her emotions and unable to stop tears that spilled over her cheeks.
“Sophia,” he said, his voice filled with tenderness that made her ache more. “Don’t cry, lass. I’m fine.” She tried to turn away and wipe her eyes while he picked up a cloth to wipe away her tears, turning her face to him.
“I’m frightened for you. Look how badly you’ve already been hurt. I don’t want you in a war!”
He gazed at her solemnly. “And I don’t want you in a Union prison, and they do put women in prison. You don’t have to print a newspaper, but you know I have to fight. Would you want me to quit?”
She firmed her lips and drew a quivering breath. “Everything in me cries yes.”
“You mean what we feel for each other makes you want to say yes. Otherwise, you would want me to go, because you love your home and your family and your beliefs. I hate the war and I hate the killing, but I’ll fight. When it’s over, I’m putting my gun away.” Caleb thought about the guard he had encountered at the armory. Before Shiloh he would have stabbed the man and all of them would have been less likely to be discovered or identified, but now he couldn’t kill unless he or his men’s lives depended on it. He wiped her tears, running his hand over her golden hair, feeling desire stir again for her.
She bent her head to finish wrapping his arm, fastening the bandage in place.
“Sophia,” he said, his voice a rasp as he cupped her breasts, caressing her nipples with his thumbs, his pulse roaring. She moaned and closed her eyes. Her lips parted while her hands slid over his chest and down to his thighs, moving over him.
She slid her hand between his thighs to touch him, hearing him draw his breath. “Sophia—”
“I want to know you,” she whispered, her cheeks burning even while her hands played over him.
“I thought ye were prim—Lord, was I wrong!”
She raised her face, leaning forward to kiss him, pushing him down on the bed while she wriggled and shifted until she was on top of him. She felt his manhood throb with hardness as he kissed her.
She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I want you, Caleb.”
He groaned as he trailed kisses over her breast, starting fires again until he entered her slowly, filling her. “Caleb, please,” she urged.
“Put yer legs around me, Sophia,” he whispered in her ear, turning his head to kiss her as another giddy spiral started and she felt consumed by flames of love for him.
Spent, she lay in his arms and stroked him, marveling at him, blushing, yet amazed and reveling in recollection of everything he had done, every inch she had caressed. She couldn’t bear to think about parting and it hovered in her mind like dark storm clouds on a distant horizon.
Dawn lit the room. Caleb studied her asleep in his arms, her leg thrown over him, her long hair spread across his chest. He wanted her again, but he needed to get out of town before it became more dangerous.
“Sophia,” he whispered, kissing her lightly, trailing kisses to her throat, aching with desire. He pushed away the sheet to look at the curve of her hip. Her breast was pressed against him. His gaze drifted up and met hers. She shifted, raising her face to his as he rolled over her and kissed her and he forgot time, wanting to lose himself in her softness.
Hours later she moved away. “I need to dress; someone might come to call. You can’t go now because it’s daylight. You know it’ll be dangerous to leave town.”
He grinned and nodded, placing his hands behind his head and watching her. “It’s so difficult to stay, but I will,” he teased.
She blushed. “Caleb—”
“I like to look at you.”
“I won’t ever get dressed at this rate. Soon Mazie will discover you’re here.”
He frowned and sat up. “Dammit, I forgot about Mazie and Henry.”
“So?”
He turned to her, scowling. “I’m not compromising your reputation! I’ll move to the other bedroom until Mazie is gone.”
He gathered his things while she watched him. I’m already compromised. More than compromised. Her gaze roamed over his lean, hard body. Her pulse began to race as she studied him. I love you, Caleb O’Brien. You’ve possessed my body and you have my heart. It’s yours and it always will be. “I’m not a marrying man …” She remembered him saying and felt a stab of hurt. She turned away. He saw too much when he looked at her.
He yanked on his trousers and carried his things to the door. “Sophia, tell her I rode in last night because I was injured.”
“You can’t hide much from Mazie or Henry. Get one of John’s shirts. I’ll wash yours.”
He frowned and glanced into the hallway, and then he was gone. She gazed after him, wishing she could keep Caleb with her forever, knowing that he would go and someday he wouldn’t come back to her.
Half an hour later she entered the kitchen to find him seated at the table talking to Mazie when Henry entered.
“Mornin’, Major,” Henry said. “I saw your horse.” Henry placed a stack of wood beside the stove. “Folks talking about soldiers riding in town last night and taking guns from the Yankee men.”
“What are they saying?” the major asked.
Sophia sat at the table and Mazie place a plate of grits and a sliced fresh peach from the tree in the backyard. Henry straightened up and frowned, running his hand over his head.
“Well, sir, word’s out it was you. I think Yankee soldiers heard you stayed at this house.”
Caleb glanced at Sophia, his forehead creased in a frown. “They’ll come question you about me.”
She felt a numbing fear for his safety. He should have gone before dawn. A loud knock sounded at the front door, and Sophia jumped. Panic enveloped her. “Hide somewhere.”
Caleb stood and picked up his revolver. “Where’s my shirt? It has blood on the sleeve.”
“I put it in the backyard in the washtub.”
He picked up a gun belt and strapped it around his hips, jamming his hat on his head. “I’ll go out to the carriage house. Send Henry if I need to get out of here.”
She nodded and hurried to answer the front door while Caleb strode across the yard. He stood in the shadowed carriage house, sunlight slanting through a high window. In minutes he heard footsteps and voices and he drew his revolver.
“Sir? Major?” Henry’s soft voice called.
“I’m here,” Caleb said, stepping out, his Colt in hand. He gazed at Henry and Fortune and relaxed.
“Here he is, sir,” Henry said an
d turned back toward the house.
Caleb leaned against the rough wall of the carriage house. “You gave me a hell of a scare.”
“You need to be scared. I can’t keep calling here. Right now no one has mentioned we have the same name. They know you’re a Major O’Brien and they know you stayed here when you were injured. Someone will come question Sophia about you today.”
“I want her left out of this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come back to raid,” Fortune said solemnly. “A guard at the armory gave a good description of you. One of the saloon owners was in the crowd and he said you stayed here after the battle at Pittsburg Landing. Why did you let the guard live to give a description, Cal?”
“I had enough killing at Shiloh to last me forever. I’ll go back to war, and I’ll kill if I have to, but not otherwise.”
“I came to warn you.” Fortune’s gaze was cool, his voice harsh. “You should get out of Memphis and stay out for your sake and hers.”
“I was waiting until dark to leave.”
Fortune rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think they’ll search the house. She wasn’t the only one to take in the wounded, so no particular attention has been given to her.”
“I don’t want to cause her trouble.”
“Sooner or later something will happen if you stay. Someone will see you, or you’ll encounter Union soldiers.” Fortune faced him. “I won’t come again, because it might jeopardize her safety, but I’ll keep watch. I can talk to Henry and see if she’s all right.”
“She told me about your bringing food. Thanks.”
“I think the shortages here will ease as our boats come downriver. If shopkeepers will cooperate. Right now we’re a bunch of damn Yankees they don’t want to associate with even if it means starving.”
Henry came out of the house and trotted across the yard. “Sir,” he said, looking from one to the other, finally focusing on Caleb, “there’s an officer coming up the front walk.”
“I walked here,” Fortune said. “I’ll go down the alley.”
“They didn’t waste any time checking on her.”
“Same one’s been here before,” Henry said, turning to go back to the house.
Caleb frowned, wanting to call to Henry. “He’s been here before.” He took Fortune’s arm. “You know why?”
“It was about the newspaper. We’ve called on everyone who had a paper. If they continue to print, they have to take a loyalty oath. She said her father died and she closed the paper.”
“Now this officer is back.” Caleb glanced at the house.
“I’ll go. I don’t want them to think about two O’Briens at the same house,” Fortune said.
Caleb watched him stride away down the alley. He ran to the house and stepped inside. “Mazie,” he whispered.
Her eyes became round. “Major O’Brien,” she whispered, “that Yankee man is here again.”
“Where are they?”
“In the parlor.”
Caleb pulled off his boots and tiptoed into the hallway.
Sophia made every effort to appear relaxed and be attentive, but all she could think about was the two O’Briens somewhere behind the house. She had sent Henry to warn them and she hoped they took it seriously. Caleb was unpredictable and too fearless for his own good, she thought unhappily. She sat in the rocker while Major Trevitt stood in front of the hearth, his hands behind his back and his feet spread apart.
“I’m glad I have a reason to come calling so soon,” he said, and she was thankful Caleb was outside out of earshot.
“I’m not publishing The River Weekly, so I don’t understand the reason for the call.”
He smiled and crossed the room to touch her chin. “It didn’t occur to you,” he said in a soft voice, “that I might be here solely to see you?”
“No, Major. Would you state your business,” she said, pushing his hand away.
He stood close enough that his knees pressed against hers and he looked amused. “Sophia, you’re a fiery little beauty and I’m intrigued.”
“Either state your business or leave my house.”
He laughed and leaned down, placing his hands on both arms of the rocker, his face inches from hers. “I told you, I don’t like force—I don’t need to use it. You’re an irresistible challenge, Sophia Merrick, and I intend to win you over until you come into my arms willingly.” His blue eyes were wide and clear, his white teeth even, and he was handsome, but all she could feel was burning anger at his taking advantage of her situation.
“Sir, I am irresistible only because I’m unchaperoned and you know you can make advances without an irate father challenging you, but don’t push. I’m known in this town and I have friends.”
“I won’t push,” he said, sliding his hand over her throat, and letting it drift down across her breast as he straightened up and moved away to sit down facing her on the settee. He tossed his hat down beside him and crossed his legs. “You had a Major O’Brien who stayed here after the battle near Pittsburg Landing.”
“Yes, I did. He’s been gone weeks now.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“I imagine he’s gone back to fighting,” she said, praying her voice sounded casual. “Major O’Brien could have gone home to New Orleans. I had several men here after that battle and when they left they said they were going home or back to their regiment.”
The floorboard in the hall squeaked. It was a slight sound; Major Trevitt never glanced around, but Sophia felt as if a cold wind had blown across her nape. She fought the urge to glance toward the hall, because if Caleb were listening, she didn’t want Major Trevitt to discover him.
“He was with you much longer than the others.”
“His wounds were worse. Doctor Perkins didn’t expect him to survive.”
“I’ve talked to Doctor Perkins. He said Major O’Brien could have gone sooner than he did. Why did he stay?”
She rubbed her fingers together, weighing how best to answer him. “For a time I continued my father’s paper. The day Major O’Brien planned to leave Memphis, I received word that my brother Amos had been killed in the East. I suspect the major pitied me and stayed longer than he needed to. He helped with two issues of the paper before I shut down the press.”
“Of course,” Trevitt said softly, “I would stay if I had a chance. The two of you here all alone—I can’t imagine that didn’t compromise you with townsfolk.”
“They know my family’s standards and mine,” she said with a lift of her chin, praying Caleb couldn’t hear the conversation. “I was aiding wounded men, and Southerners are gentlemen.”
He chuckled. “No offense, Miss Merrick. I haven’t heard a breath of scandal about you. You haven’t seen Major O’Brien since he left?”
“No, Major, I haven’t.”
“Would you tell me if you had?”
She shrugged. “I see no reason not to tell you. Is there one?”
“We think O’Brien is still in this area. Rebels raided the armory last night and stole weapons and ammunition. We have a description of a man, and it sounds like your Major O’Brien.” Trevitt studied her. “But enough about him for the moment. There’ll be a dance Saturday night at the hotel. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to escort you to it.”
“Sir, I have no inclination to attend any party with a Union officer. If we’ve finished discussing Major O’Brien, I need to get back to my tasks.”
Major Trevitt stood up and moved toward the door. When she didn’t get up, he gave her a languid smile. “Afraid to walk to the door with me, Miss Merrick?”
“You gave me just cause last time,” she snapped and stood up.
“It’s the first time in my acquaintance, I’ve had a woman fear me. And the first I’ve had one so completely reject me,” he added softly, still smiling at her.
Feeling angry with Trevitt, she was frightened what Caleb might do if he overheard their conversation. “I don’t fear you, Major. And I regre
t you feel a challenge. I find it difficult to imagine every woman you encounter eager for your attention.”
He laughed. “Perhaps not, but often I’m not interested either. It’s the first time I’ve been interested, that I’ve encountered such a cold reception. If you had a sweetheart, I would understand your response, but you say there’s none.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ve asked a few townspeople and they’ve said the same. You have Memphis friends and those who don’t particularly like the Merricks. You haven’t won the endearment of the tavern owners with your father’s stand against them.”
“My father was a man of principles.” She halted out of arm’s reach and Major Trevitt looked amused. His gaze roamed over her boldly, studying her breasts before glancing up.
“I could show you excitement, Sophia, and make your life easier.”
She held her anger in check. “I must get back to my washing,” she said.
“Still afraid to come too close.” Suddenly he stepped near, his arm sweeping around her as he yanked her to him and kissed her. His mouth was bruising and she pushed against him. She hated his mouth on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, yet she was terrified to make noise. If Caleb heard her protest or heard her cry out, he would attack Trevitt.
Major Trevitt released her, looking down at her. “I’ll win.”
“Find a woman who is attracted to you!” she said softly, wanting to avoid her words carrying to the back of the house.
She hurried to throw open the front door and step onto the porch. He put on his hat, turning to look at her. “You’re a beautiful woman, Sophia.”
“Goodbye, Major Trevitt.”
He left, striding down the walk and mounting his horse to ride away. She stepped into the house and closed the door. With a revolver in his hand, Caleb stood in the parlor doorway, his eyes stormy with rage. He motioned to her.
“Come here, Sophia.”
Chapter 12
She stepped into the parlor and Caleb closed the door, placing the revolver on a table. He turned around, holding her upper arms. “I wanted to come in here and pound the man through the floor,” he said, his Irish brogue becoming apparent as he rolled the words off his tongue.
