Seven Swans Bride

by Donna Dalton

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Protect me. You said you wouldn’t let them take me from you. What did you mean by that?”

  Just her luck he remembered the only nugget that would be better off remaining obscure. She rose and gathered the basin of bloody water and rags she’d used to clean his wound. The answer to his question required some time to formulate.

  “I need to empty this basin and pour some fresh water to clean your jacket,” she said. “It has a rather nasty blood stain on the collar.” Oddly the sight of his blood hadn’t made her squeamish. She had been too concerned with cleaning his wound and getting him back to rights.

  “Abigail. You’re avoiding my question.”

  “I know.” She set the basin on the bureau and moved to the window. A quick thrust opened the window, and cold air rushed in to greet her. She welcomed the reviving slap. The heat of being around Evander had lulled her into a dreamy state. She had to be practical.

  She turned to look at him. He looked so vulnerable lying on the bed with his skull swathed in white. She wanted to tell him the truth—wanted to open up to him. But seeing disgust for her on his face would be akin to a shoving a knife in her heart.

  A half-truth would have to suffice. “If they had killed you, getting home would become much more difficult, if not impossible.”

  “While true, that’s not the real reason you said it.”

  Having his head bashed had not diluted his shrewdness. Not by a smidgen. She picked up the basin and tossed the bloodied water out the window. She had always gone full tilt at life—always gave one hundred percent of herself. It was no surprise that she’d fallen for the captivating officer in a matter of days. But would he consider that a good thing or bad?

  “Tell me, Abigail.” He pushed up on his elbows. “I won’t stop until you give me an answer.”

  A mule couldn’t be more hard-headed. She pitched the empty basin onto the bureau and rushed to his side. “Stop, Evander. You’re going to hurt yourself. Please lie down.” She gently pushed on his shoulders, but met steely resistance.

  “Only if you answer my question. No more evasive tactics.”

  “Fine. Lie back and I’ll answer you.”

  He did as she asked. His gaze held hers—steady and probing. She pulled in a calming breath and pushed the words out. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you because...I have come to care for you.”

  There. She said it. She studied his face, watching for signs of horror or disgust. None came. The creases around his eyes softened. His lips parted. He seemed—relieved. Hope fluttered in her chest.

  “I hoped that would be your answer.”

  “You did?”

  He gathered her hand, his thumb running over her fingers and leaving a trail of heat. “I have developed feelings for you too, Abigail. Feelings I can’t explain or stop. It would be quite awkward if you didn’t feel the same, considering the distance we still have to travel together.”

  “But it’s so sudden. Perhaps it’s just a consequence of being isolated and dependent on one another.”

  “It could be. But I’ve never felt this connected to anyone before. It’s as if I have known you for years instead of days.”

  That’s exactly how she felt. Penelope had gone on and on about finding a soul mate—the one man you are drawn to, the one man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Was Evander that man?

  She shook her head. “It’s all happening so fast. I just don’t know what to think.”

  “Then we’ll take it slow. Figure out what, if anything is between us.”

  “And then what?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

  What if that bridge was washed out? Their physical journey had encountered nothing but obstructions thus far. Why would their emotional journey be any different?

  A knock reverberated into the room. An interruption. How could she expect anything less? She crossed to the door and opened it.

  The desk clerk stood in the hallway. “Sorry to bother you, Miss Whitlock, but you asked me to check on the stage to Covington.”

  “Yes, what did you learn?”

  “It’s been delayed because of the snowstorm. Service should resume the day after tomorrow.”

  She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or delighted. Part of her worried that the delay would cause her to miss Penelope’s wedding. The other part, the part that enjoyed Evander’s kisses, shouted for joy at the opportunity to spend more time with him.

  Chapter Six

  Festive bunting and garlands of pine boughs decorated the window sills and the archway over the main entrance to the hotel dining hall. Small trees twined with red ribbons adorned the center of each linen-draped table. Even the supper meal had a Christmas overtone with roast turkey, ham, plum pudding, and eggnog.

  Father treasured his eggnog, especially when Cook added an extra jigger of bourbon. Said he could drink a cup every day of the year and not tire of it. But he saved the special treat just for Christmastime.

  Abigail sighed. She would do her best to make it home in time for both Father’s Christmas eggnog and Penelope’s wedding. Until then, she would enjoy this brief sojourn with Evander and try not to feel guilty about it.

  Evander set his fork on a plate scraped clean of every crumb and leaned back in his chair. “Mmm-mmm. Best plum pudding I believe I have ever tasted. The entire meal was delicious for that matter. A baby couldn’t sleep sounder than I will tonight.”

  Though a bandage still swathed his head, his eyes were clear as a crystal lake. His skin no longer appeared washed out. He looked hale as a corn-fed mule—was even stubborn as one. He had adamantly refused to have dinner in his room. Said after being abed all day, the walls were starting to close in on him. So she agreed he could come downstairs to eat, but only if he agreed to return immediately afterwards. She couldn’t afford to have her escort suffer a setback, at least that’s the reason she told herself for making the mandate.

  “Very tasty, indeed.” She covered a yawn. “I too shall sleep like a baby.”

  “Sounds as if you’re ready to retire right now.”

  “I assure you, it won’t be long before my head meets the pillow.”

  He rose from his chair and came around to assist her. “Then let’s go back to our rooms. We have to be up at dawn anyway to catch the morning stage.”

  Earlier that day, she had left the hotel to purchase stagecoach tickets. The stage had resumed service, but the journey would be much slower due to the snow. As long as she arrived in Covington by tomorrow night, she would deal with the long, tiring ride. She might even use the liniment Evander had given her, provided she could stomach the foul smell long enough to apply it.

  Laughter and the patter of small feet drifted into the dining hall. Abigail stopped in the doorway. Nearly a dozen children buzzed around a tall evergreen tree standing in the center of the lobby. The youngsters raced about, hanging handmade ornaments onto the branches. Their smiles and chirps of delight brushed her heart. She would have children one day—a whole flock of them, just like this happy, energetic bunch.

  The desk clerk rushed over to the doorway. “Please excuse the commotion, Miss Whitlock, Major Holt. The local orphanage comes over every year to decorate our tree. They should be done in a few minutes.”

  She smiled. “There’s no need to hurry. I am quite enjoying the spectacle. The children seem so cheerful and carefree. They must be well cared for.”

  “They are indeed. The hotel owner is a staunch supporter of the orphanage. Mr. Gibbs raises money all year long to benefit the children. On Christmas day, he places gifts under the tree for them. If you think they look happy now, you should see their faces then.”

  “I imagine it is a sight to behold,” Evander replied. He fished in his pocket and handed a roll of bills to the clerk. “Would you see that this contribution is added to the orphanage fund?”

  The clerk’s face beamed wit
h pleasure. “Why, thank you, Major Holt. I’m certain Mr. Gibbs will be very appreciative of your generosity.”

  Evander nodded. “Excuse me for one minute, Abigail.”

  He crossed to the tree and squatted next to a little girl. She was smaller than the rest of the children and had a gold star clutched in her hand. He spoke to her. Blonde curls bobbed in agreement. He rose with his arm cupped around her waist and lifted her high enough that she could place her star at the top of the tree. The little girl’s radiant smile lit the room.

  Abigail’s heart melted. She could easily see herself married to this wonderful man, having his children, living with him for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t be giving up her freedom. She would be gaining it and much, much more.

  When Evander returned to her side, she beamed up at him. “That was sweet of you, Evander.”

  “It seems I have a soft spot for little ladies with blonde hair.”

  Was that comment meant for her? She shook her head. “We should go up to our rooms before you start reciting poetry.”

  “God forbid that should happen. The only recitation I could deliver would be from a military manual. I suspect that would quickly put our tiny visitors into a deep slumber.”

  He rested his hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. Tingles rose up her spine. Would she always react this way to his merest touch? It was definitely something to look forward to discovering.

  They climbed the stairs, and Evander stopped at the door to her room. He dropped his hand, taking his warmth with him.

  “I hope you sleep better tonight than last night. That chair couldn’t have been very comfortable. You should have taken your own room.”

  “I wanted to make sure you didn’t require any help. You were still quite dazed from that head wound.” She’d read a book while he slept and when exhaustion claimed her, she’d curled in the wingback chair in front of the fireplace. It was almost as if they were back in the cabin. Almost.

  “I appreciate your sacrifice,” he said. “And to show my gratitude, I had something done for you.”

  “You did? What is it?”

  “Go inside your room. You’ll see.”

  She twisted her key in the lock and pushed the door open. Propped against the foot of the bed was her painting encased in a simple wood frame.

  “Oh, Evander, it’s lovely. When did you do this?”

  “While you were out purchasing our tickets, I went down to the clerk’s desk. He knew of a local craftsman who could put together a frame on short notice. It’s nothing fancy, but it will do until you can have a fancier one made.”

  “You got out of bed? Evander, you shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I wanted to make you happy.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, loving kiss. “Because you make me happy. Very happy.”

  All doubts slid away. He was indeed her soul mate, the one man she could give her heart to. If she was honest with herself, she already had—from the moment he gallantly put aside his misgivings and agreed to be her escort.

  ****

  The clack of iron wheels slowed, the noise becoming less deafening, less annoying. All around him, sleepy-eyed passengers began to stir. Evander remained still, reluctant to wake the beauty snuggled against him. Abigail’s head rested on his shoulder, her warm breaths fanning his neck.

  He closed his eyes and savored the pleasant sensation. A soft ache filled his heart. He wanted her by his side from now until they laid him in a pine coffin. She was everything he wanted in a wife—caring and supportive, with an inner strength that would sustain any hardship. After hours of searching his soul, he’d come to one undeniable decision. He couldn’t live without her. Not only did his body burn for her, it appeared his heart had gotten into the act as well.

  The train lurched to a stop, jarring him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes and wiggled his shoulder. “Abigail,” he called out softly. “It’s time to wake up.”

  She lifted her head. Hooded blue eyes drifted up to meet his. His loins tightened at the dazed, lover-like expression sketched on her face. Waiting months to have her was going to be pure torture.

  She blinked the sleep from her eyes and pushed upright, glancing around the busy railcar as she moved. “Have we arrived?”

  “Yes,” he replied, ignoring the disappointment that flooded him. “We just pulled into the Louisville depot.”

  “Good. Between the saddle and this hard bench, my body is one giant bruise.” She grimaced and arched her back in an easy cat-like stretch.

  His mind filled with a sudden shocking vision of her naked, arching beneath him, his hands drifting along the curve of those smooth, limber muscles. He forced a dry swallow and shoved the image away.

  She glanced out the window, her expression brightening. “It appears to be near dawn.”

  “It is.” He stood and moved into the aisle. “Provided there’s a buggy available at the livery, we should be able to make it to Seven Swans by noon, just in time for your sister’s wedding.”

  She picked up her satchel and rose. “We? I thought you would want to continue on with the train. Aren’t you due in Leavenworth at the end of the month?”

  “I am. But I promised I would see you safely home. And I always keep my word.”

  Blue eyes tunneled into him. “You have honored your word, Evander. You brought me to Louisville, safe and sound. And in time to attend my sister’s wedding. I shall always be indebted to you for that.”

  She stood so close he could feel her heat, smell that flowery scent he would take with him to the grave.

  “Pardon me, officer.”

  Passengers were lining up behind them. Evander motioned for Abigail to precede him down the aisle. Once on the platform, he pointed to a pair of benches. “Let’s sit over there for a moment. There’s something I want to ask you.”

  She joined him on the bench. Her pretty lips were turned down; her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  He reached out and lifted her chin. “What is it, Abigail? Why so sad all of the sudden? You should be rejoicing that you made it home for the wedding.”

  “I am happy.” A tear slid free. “But sad, too.”

  “What makes you sad?”

  Her bottom lip quivered. He wanted to take it in his mouth and kiss away her misery. But that would only distract her from answering. He needed to hear her reply.

  “Once you see me to my doorstep, then what? Will you leave? Go on to Leavenworth and never look back?” Her gaze flicked to his mouth, and her lips parted. “I thought there was something between us. Something more, something deeper...perhaps I was wrong.”

  He swiped the tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You weren’t wrong. There is something between us, something strong and undeniable. After I see you home, I intend to go to my commander in Leavenworth and ask for a leave of absence.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I want to return to Louisville, find a place to stay, and begin courting you properly, just as you deserve.”

  The clouds disappeared from her eyes. “Y-You want to court me? I don’t quite know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll agree to see me. That’s all I ask.”

  She cocked her head to one side and studied him with a direct gaze, weighing her options this time instead of rushing to a decision as she was inclined to do in the past. He couldn’t decide if that made him pleased at her change in behavior or concerned because she had to ponder an answer.

  After a few agonizing moments, she tipped her lips into a smile that rivaled the sun. “Yes, Major Holt. I give you my consent to come a courting.”

  He let go the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Good. Now that we have all that straightened out, I’ll go retrieve our luggage so we can be on our way. You have a wedding to attend after all.”

  He rose and made his way to the back of the train. His step was lighter than it had been in years. Provided he didn’t hit any blockades, Abigai
l should be his wife by springtime. He would have his military career and a wife to share it with. His life would be complete.

  A young boy stood at the edge of the platform with a stack of newspapers tucked under his arm. He liked to keep abreast of the current affairs, and it had been days since he’d read a paper. He handed the boy a coin.

  As he unfurled the paper, the front page headlines jumped out at him. Comanche attacks on Kansas border increase. Ninth Cavalry suffers major losses. His stomach sank quicker than the USS Hatteras in Galveston Harbor. The Ninth was his newly assigned regiment—those were his men being decimated. He couldn’t ask for a leave of absence. The army, his country, needed him. His plan to court Abigail would have to be postponed—indefinitely. Would she wait for him?

  Chapter Seven

  The buggy crested the rise and the familiar three story brick mansion with its seven stately columns came into view. Abigail’s fatigue evaporated like mist in the morning sunshine. She was home.

  Evander let go a whistle. “So this is Seven Swans. Quite a place.”

  “It has been in our family for years. My great grandfather modeled the house after his English bride’s Devonshire villa to help her adjust to her new life in America.”

  “Whew. That was a considerable wedding present.”

  She’d be happy with a one-room cabin as long as the man she loved lived in it with her.

  Evander pulled the horse to a stop in the deserted driveway. She glanced at the sun sitting midway in the sky. Where were all the wedding guests? They should have arrived by now. She shrugged. Perhaps father had ordered the servants to move the arriving carriages around back to avoid a bottleneck.

  The creak of the buggy springs broke into her thoughts. Evander stood on the ground, his hand held out to assist her. She rose and slid her hand into his. His firm grip cradled her heart. She savored the sensation, holding on to it to remember during the long, lonely nights ahead until he could return—if he returned. He’d told her about the Indian attacks. Worry for his safety sat heavy on her chest. He had to return. He had to.