by Rita Hestand
“Lieutenant, there is an officer’s commission waiting for you if you succeed.
Understand?”
“Yes, sir. I guess I do. But wounded? Romancing a woman?” Jesse wished he could get out of the assignment but the adamant way his commander talked, he couldn’t object much more without a problem.
“It’s a perfect cover. She’s a woman. She’ll have to take you in. You’ll be given further orders as we near her campgrounds. She’s a squatter on an old farm property and works from there. At least this is the information we have at the moment. But she moves from time to time so you will have to get word to us. All this will be explained later. Just relax. In four days, you will meet the Black Widow. We can’t anticipate how long it will take you to gain her trust, but we aren’t that worried about the time as you will keep her busy until you arrest her anyway.”
“Does she have a name?” Jesse asked. “I mean a real name?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” The general smiled. “Don’t worry, son. I have all the confidence in the world that you can handle this.”
Jesse wasn’t convinced. “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“That’s even better. No jealousy to worry over. You are perfect for the job. Now that I’ve met you, I am certain of it. Just perfect. Don’t look so discouraged. Most men would jump at the chance to romance her and bring her in. She’s very beautiful.”
“Well, of course sir, but….”
The general smiled confidently. “It’s much easier to get involved when you’re not already involved, Lieutenant. I almost envy you. She’s so lovely.”
Jesse tried to relax, but he already didn’t like his assignment.
“Despite your reluctance, I like your style, Lieutenant. You are perfect for the job. Yes, sir, you’ll do just fine.”
Jesse walked out of the tent in a daze. How had it happened? How had he managed to get an assignment with the most beautiful woman in the world, and how was he supposed to bring her in? It didn’t make sense. How could he do something like that? How could he hurt her so?
***
“Maggie, we better get out of here. They’ll be comin’ back to bury their dead. I told you before, we got just a few minutes after they quit firin’ to get this done,”
Old Crazy Harry muttered as he scrambled through another dead soldier’s clothes. The old black man looked up then continued to rummage through each pocket. When he dug out some money, he bit into it and found it real. He stuck it in his coat. Pulling a watch out, he put that in his pocket, too. Then he glanced at Maggie again.
“I done showed you everything I knowed about robbin’ the dead, and was happy to do it fer ya, but you done lost your mind, girl.” Harry shook his head at her. “I told you, you can’t get involved with any of these men. They are all soldiers, rebels in fact.”
“Harry, I don’t think this one is dead.” She eyed the slight movement of the wounded man’s chest.
“Girl, what you thinkin’? You better get your head on straight because they gonna be movin’ this way any time now. I’m outta here. You wanna stay, you’ll be caught, ‘cause I ain’t hangin’ around fer it. You’re gonna have to get out of here, too.”
“I hear ya, only, Harry, he’s still breathing,” Maggie cried out as she stared down at the rebel lying in the tall weeds. His shirt had been ripped open by a bullet. Powder marks blackened his skin near his bleeding shoulder wound. Her first thought was that he'd been killed at close range, then she thought she saw him draw breath. She stared at the massive, bulging muscles. When he moaned, she squatted to feel his heart, her hand caressing his big chest as ripples of awareness shot through her. Awareness that both shocked and pleased her. She smiled. Her reactions startled even her.
She’d lost her mind. The routine was simple. Wait until the army was gone, then go through the pockets of the dead to take anything of use or worth selling.
It never amounted to much, but it helped keep her alive. No one had ever caught them. Old Crazy Harry had been the only friend she had on the mountain, a crafty thief who had survived through the war so far. But even he was skeptical of helping a dying reb. Maggie couldn’t take her eyes from this soldier, young and handsome, and not dead.
The soldier’s eyes opened to slits and he looked at her. “Are you an angel?” he managed to mutter.
Maggie nearly laughed. “No honey, I’m no angel.” Her hand remained on his chest. His heartbeat quickened for a moment.
“I’m getting’ out of here and if you know what’s best, so will you,” Old Crazy Harry told her. “This was just a bunch of skirmishers. The rebs will be out to bury their own. We gotta move.”
Grateful for his knowledge and craft of stealing from the dead, Maggie easily forgave Crazy Harry for not wanting to linger. At his age he couldn’t afford to get caught. He’d probably die in jail.
“He’s alive. What if no one shows up for him, or worse still, the federals get to him first. We can't just leave him here…can we?” Maggie protested. “I need help.
He’s too big. I can’t lift him alone. You got to help me, Harry.”
“Lawdy, Miss Maggie, you done lost your mind. If he’s alive, let them take care of him.” Harry stuffed his pockets and moved quickly to the next soldier as he spoke. “Besides, the Federals catch him in your place, they’ll have you for supper.”
“Help me get him up there, please,” she pleaded. Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she tried to pick the soldier up herself.
Old Crazy Harry stared at the man, then at her. The big man didn’t budge despite her determined efforts. “They’ll kick you out of that place. You been livin’
around here nigh on to two years now. Wasn’t for the Federals, you’d have been hauled off by the Confederates to jail and you knows it. Everything is going fine, and you want to mess it up with this man. You gonna ruin it all for a reb? A white man at that.”
“It ain’t like that, Harry, but I can’t leave him to die!”
“Damnation girl, I’m not blind. I know what’s goin’ on.” Old Crazy Harry shook his head and bent to carry the man to her cabin just so she’d hush up, she reckoned. “I want no part of this.”
The soldier squirmed and fought in delirium, so she hit him on the head with the butt of her gun.
Harry stared at her in disbelief. “You tryin’ to kill him? That don’t make no sense. I ain’t never gonna do this again, you hear me, girl? Never.”
“Just help me get him to my place is all I ask. We gotta hurry, you said.” She checked the stranger, and he moaned softly, but did not open his eyes.
“I must be crazy, too! Look, you send him on his way once you heal him. You hear? Or you are gonna have some trouble, girl. I knew somethin’ like this would happen sooner or later. You stuck up here on a mountain, by yourself, with no family. You was bound to latch on to someone in all this time, but why didn’t you get yourself a black man?”
Maggie put her hands on her hips and stared at Harry. “Well, there ain't many black men fightin' for the South, not like the Yankees got.”
“I done seen it in your eyes. You got eyes for this one.” Harry grunted.
“I just want to help him. But thanks, Harry, and you keep quiet you hear?” she warned him.
“I don’t want no trouble. I didn’t see nothin’,” Harry exclaimed as he toted the soldier to her cabin in the woods. “No, sir, I didn’t see nothin’.”
“Thanks, Harry, I owe you,” she whispered as the big black man hauled the soldier into her shack.
He laid him on her bed and looked at her. “It’s your neck. I warned you. But, I reckon everyone is entitled to some companionship. A body gets lonely in these hills.”
“I don’t.” She stopped. She didn’t rightly know why she needed to save the wounded man. “I can’t help it, Harry. There’s somethin’ about him….”
“You’re crazier than me. Yes, sir, you are.” Harry moved to the door. “I didn’t see nothin’.”
> She winked, and he was gone. Harry could get through the woods faster than anyone. He’d be fine despite the number of Confederate troops swarming the area lately. She’d learned long ago to hide out when the Confederates came up the mountain then come home when they left. She had a special old cave she would hide out in when they got too close. No one knew about the cave except an ornery old bear, and Maggie knew when he was about by the droppings outside.
Alone in the cabin with the soldier, she stared at him in disbelief. Handsome as sin, and probably twice as much trouble, but something inside her turned to mush just looking at him.
Was it some kind of magic or something? Whatever caused it, Lord, she was attracted to him. That had never happened to her. Maybe she was loco. He was a well-built man, towering several inches above her, with lots of thick black hair and tanned skin.
She washed his wound and examined it. She'd have to remove the bullet if she wanted him to heal, but her hands trembled too much to do it without hurting him. Just having him here was enough of a problem. Maybe if she waited, she wouldn't have to get the bullet out. She'd wait, at least till she could steady herself. For now, she covered him with a blanket, and went about her regular routine of making stew and cleaning what she could of her cabin, but her eyes kept straying to the man on the bed. If the Federals caught her, she’d be in a world of trouble. But they seldom came to her cabin any longer. They depended on her getting word to them. If she didn’t, they’d be after her.
Harry was right. She shouldn’t have brought the wounded rebel to her place.
As nightfall came, the man began to shake and shiver, almost violently. Maggie stared at him long and hard, uncertain what to do. She didn’t want him dying on her. She’d seen her mama comfort her husband by getting into bed with him, stark naked, and holding him. Could she dare?
She moved closer and watched him. His whole body shook. Sweat peppered his face. Fear ran down her spine. He couldn’t die. Not now. She had to warm him.
Her supply of wood had run low, but she couldn’t make it much warmer without breaking out in a sweat herself. It was still very warm outside. Moving the blanket up around him and tucking it in, she frowned when he still shivered.
His eyes opened briefly. They were a deep blue, compelling.
She stared at him for a long time. Fear and the desire to keep him alive drove her. She needed this man, not as a man, but as someone who could fill the loneliness in her heart. Missing her mama, missing her family, she had been alone far too long. Why did this one man pull at her heart strings like no other?
Maybe it wasn’t right. He was white after all, but the feelings he stirred told her
differently. How could he stir feelings inside her like this? Was it some kind of black magic?
There was no answer for why she chose him to latch on to, but she sensed he craved solace, too. She unbuttoned her dress and let it slide to the floor. She watched him to make sure he wasn’t looking at her. Staring at him, she moved the covers off him and inched herself into the bed so that she lay next to him.
She’d never done anything so bold in her life, but somehow this didn’t seem the time for judging her actions. He needed her body for warmth; she needed him for comfort that she had lacked for so long.
“God, I don’t want him to die!” she cried aloud. “Please don’t let him die.”
He moaned, and his lips brushed her shoulder. A spark darted to the most womanly part of her. Warmth stole over her. Goose bumps covered her from the imagined kiss. Instinctively, she slowly slid her body over him, careful to only lean against his left side, resting her head under his chin; she hugged him to her.
She lay very still, for a moment, then ran her hands up and down his body. She unbuttoned his uniform as it was abrasive to her skin. Realizing his shirt had to be agitating him, she removed it. Feeling the slick heat of his chest, she held him to her.
“Don’t die. I’m here for you, and you for me. That is enough. You’ll never know I did this. It’s just, I can’t explain it, I’m just…so lonely.”
Gradually, he stopped shaking as their shared heat enveloped them. She relaxed against him and studied his lips. Nice lips, full but not too full. The urge to touch hers to his was too much, and she kissed him. As his breathing became almost normal again, holding him to her, warming him with her body, she began to relax and to feel. Her breasts tingled when she moved against him. More sparks went through her. She settled closer, seeking a comfort she couldn’t name.
The soldier brought a human element into her life that had never been there before. Her lips crept over his body, slowly at first, then almost in a frenzy, marveling at how taut his muscles were, how smooth. She kissed him down to his belt buckle where a line of hair began, and then stopped. She liked kissing him very much.
“I’m sorry. I have no right, but you feel so good, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before,” she muttered. Sliding up his body, Maggie braced her arms on either side of his broad shoulders, her lips hovered above his. She couldn’t stop herself. She had to feel those lips on hers once more, and she kissed him with a heat she didn’t understand. She imagined what it might be like if he kissed her back.
When she woke the next morning, she rose up and saw him still sleeping. She kissed his lips again, enjoying the sensation it evoked. His response made her tingle all over. Her hands splayed against him and moved over him in total wonder. When her fingertips touched his nipple, she sighed heavily. It became erect and hardened beneath her touch. Butterflies fluttered through her, as though her touch had done that. She marveled at it. She put her lips to the small nub and drew against it. Kissing a man was new to her, but she liked it. Ashamed of her wanton feelings, she got up and dressed and went about her chores, but her heart was still with the soldier lying in her bed. Through the night she had somehow grown attached to him beyond ordinary feeling. Distracting herself, she tended her stew. As the day grew, she tried to feed him, but it didn’t work. He slept peacefully though, and contentment filled her that she had met his needs, and her own.
She felt herself flush when she thought of how she’d touched and kissed him, and wondered what it might be like if he were awake. Kissing him once more, she smiled. “At least you’re alive.”
She touched his cheek, so soft with stubble already growing back. “I don’t understand myself, or why I brought you here. I don’t know why I kissed you, but I’m very glad I did. I think I’m in love with you, and I’ve only met you. How can that be? Is it my loneliness that drives me toward you? I never slept with a man before. Not like that, skin against skin. But now, I’ve got to do the decent thing and get you well and send you on your way. I can never let you know what happened between us.” She glanced at him, touching him tenderly. “We gave each other what we needed, that’s all it was.”
She’d helped many soldiers as they lay dying, bandaged them, gave them water, even patched a few up and sent them on their way, but she’d never brought
one home with her. Never slept with them or touched and kissed them as she had him. Perhaps he was an angel. For her heart had reached out to him with almost a blackened despair.
“I had you if only for a little while, and you’ll probably never know how much it meant to me to be as close as we just were, to have someone to love. Thank you.”
She raised her eyes. “And thank you, God, for the moments. Amen.”
Chapter Two
Jesse opened his eyes and slowly took in the run-down condition of the place, the cracks in the roof, and the dirt floor. The dim light didn’t do much to make it look homey. The well-worn bed he rested on creaked as he moved, and his body seemed to sink into the mattress. Beyond where he lay, a plain, wooden table, a wood stove in the center of the room, not much else. Despite such meager furnishings, no words could describe the vision of a woman stirring a pot above the fireplace. Angel or seductress, he wasn’t sure. He sniffed, and she turned around.
His heart gave a quick lurch. It was her
! Two things ran in his mind as he got a glimpse of her—deadly and provocative.
“Well, you’re still alive.” She smiled stiffly as she looked at him from across the room.
She was small and fine boned, with hair enough for three women. She wore a tattered dress that barely covered the essentials, so thin it left little to Jesse’s imagination. One curvy, gorgeous leg peeked out from the slit in her skirt. She didn’t bother trying to hide it though. She acted as though she wasn’t even aware of her own beauty. Nor did she cover the dark shadows of her nipples that pushed hard against the dress and left nothing to the imagination.
She was so young and beautiful and almost shy.
Jesse’s eyes focused on the leg first, and he felt himself grow warm. Dear God, he’d found the Black Widow, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d have known that body anywhere. Being trapped in a secluded cabin, deep in the forest and hills of Arkansas with a woman that defied imagination could be a living hell.
He shifted restlessly on the bed. He’d barely opened his eyes, and he wanted her already. That would never do. He had to harden himself against her. His shoulder and arm ached but he ignored the pain. He had to take her in.
“Where am I?” The pounding in his head made him grab it. He didn’t
remember hitting his head. He remembered the ambush, loading his gun, and shooting himself, but that was it.
“Your safe for the time being,” she answered, coming closer, eyeing him from under a veil of thick, curly dark lashes.
“What happened?” He started to get up. His shoulder shot pains through his chest. He grunted and lay back down.
“You were wounded, Lieutenant. I found you in the woods not far from here.”
She checked his head for a fever with the back of her hand. When she leaned over, ample cleavage tested the strength of her tattered dress, and Jesse cleared his throat. How was he supposed to control his body when hers called out to him every time she moved? Sinfully provocative and yet somehow innocent, she played with his mind.
