A Corner of Heaven

by Raine Cantrell

  Within minutes of being shown her place at a table beneath a window that offered a view of the city, Elizabeth made the acquaintance of the two women who would train her.

  Mrs. Thomas Galwey, slender and pale, projected a tragic air that was reenforced by the streak of pure white in her dark brown hair. She wore spectacles and her voice, the soft, melodious drawl of southern Virginia, reminded Elizabeth of home. Mrs. Candace Sawyer, with a lively pair of blue eyes and dimples she showed to advantage each time she smiled—which Elizabeth would come to learn was often—had a flighty nature that revealed itself in her speech. She would ask a question and before Elizabeth could form an answer, proceed to another subject.

  The work, just as Mrs. Marstand claimed, was not difficult. Presented with pen, inkwell and a stack of unsigned treasury notes, Elizabeth had to number them. Several women walked the large room, their sole job to remove finished piles of notes and replace them as needed. Numbered stacks were carried to the front where they were signed and dated. Elizabeth had a tally sheet that listed the beginning number she was to start with, and it was her responsibility to note at day’s end the number that would begin her next morning’s work.

  Writing consecutive numbers was not hard, but it was boring. She found herself listening to the gossip of the women around her. Most discussed with varying degrees of agitation the rising cost of flour. Last week it had been sixteen dollars a barrel, this week it was forty. Shoes and boots, she learned, when they could be had, were almost fifty dollars a pair. Salt, so indispensable, brought a loud chorus of groans that the price had fluctuated madly. One day it was seventy-five cents a pound, and the next day the city council had offered each person a pound at five cents. There were complaints that shirts cost twelve dollars and that the Negroes were better dressed than whites.

  On and on…

  Mrs. Galwey, when asked, began a discourse about the speculators, quartermasters and the commissaries, pointing out in her quiet way their underhanded dealings.

  All agreed there was little they could do, but by that time, it was announced the workday was done. Wishing Mrs. Galwey, who had unbent enough to suggest Elizabeth might use her name, Tilda, good-night, Elizabeth took her mantle and bonnet from the hook assigned to her and left the building alone. Mister Josh was waiting as were other wagons and carriages, although most of the women were escorted to several hotels nearby where they roomed.

  Reassured by Mister Josh that Nicole had been no more troublesome than any other child, Elizabeth let her thoughts drift to Colter. As Emily had pointed out last night, it was senseless for her to worry over what she couldn’t control, but she did hope that wherever he was, he would be safe.

  Conversation at supper was enlivened by her relating her first day of work. The only somber note was Nicole’s listlessness. Elizabeth took care to spend the time before bed playing with her, but Nicole kept asking when Colter would return.

  Sensing there was something wrong, Elizabeth sat on her daughter’s bed, stroking her hair. “Did something happen today, precious?”

  “I picked nuts with Rua an’ Mister Josh found me a tree.”

  “A tree?”

  “For the swing.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about it, Nicole. I thought that was what you wanted.” For a few moments, Elizabeth thought she was asleep and leaned over to place a last kiss on her forehead. But Nicole was still awake. Racking her mind, Elizabeth finally asked, “Did you do anything to make Mister Josh or Rutha yell at you?”

  “Oh, no, Mama. I didn’t. I didn’t.”

  Her small hand nestled into Elizabeth’s, leaving her mother at a loss to find out what was wrong. Nicole wasn’t frightened, she didn’t cling, not like those first nights…but what had disturbed her?

  “Honey, you know you can tell Mama if you were bad. Telling the truth is more important than worrying about being punished. You know that. Please, sweet, tell me or I’ll worry.”

  “I saw a man.”

  “Oh, dear Lord!”

  “I wasn’t bad.”

  “No. No, of course not, Nicole.” Urging herself to be calm, Elizabeth brushed the hair back from her child’s temple. “Did you tell Mister Josh?” Nicole shook her head. “Why not? He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Do Rutha or Miss Emily know about this?” She realized that it was a foolish question; they would have told her. Trying to keep panic locked inside so she would not frighten Nicole, Elizabeth cuddled her close. “Did the man talk to you?”

  “No. He watched.”

  “Mister Josh didn’t see him?”

  Again Nicole shook her head, clinging tightly to her mother’s hand. “He’d say I was ’tending again.”

  “Tending? Pretending that you saw someone? Yes,” she answered herself before Nicole could, “of course he would think that. Well, my darling, you are not to worry. Mama will explain this to Mister Josh and Rutha. And I promise you they will keep watch to see if the man comes back. You know they love you and wouldn’t let anyone hurt you while Mama isn’t here.”

  It was a long while before she could bring herself to leave her daughter. She spoke to Rutha and Josh alone, unwilling to alarm Emily, once again stressing to them her own nagging fear. They both promised to keep a closer watch on Nicole, and Josh said he would make sure no deserter was camping close by.

  Elizabeth had to be satisfied with their assurances, but as she lay in bed that night, clutching Colter’s shirt to her cheek, she knew she would have to find a way to better protect her child. Colter might not return for months, and while she knew she would tell him about this, he couldn’t be depended upon to ensure their safety.

  Thanksgiving was two weeks away and Mrs. Marstand mentioned they would be paid before the week’s end. Thanks to Colter’s generosity in filling their larder, she wouldn’t immediately need to buy foodstuffs. But she decided what her money could buy.

  A gun. Josh had a ball-and-powder hunting rifle, but Elizabeth wanted a handgun. She had never used a weapon, but she could learn. Alma was not going to take her daughter. And no matter who believed her, she was sure that the woman had somehow found them.

  The wind picked up, its wail almost mournful, and her sleep was restless, haunted by the past.

  Outside, the man watching the house settled a thick wool blanket around his shoulders and leaned against a tree trunk, hoping there wouldn’t be snow before morning. He waited, keeping his vigil as he had been ordered.

  And another unseen presence watched him.

  Chapter Ten

  There were no more sightings of the mysterious man in the next few days. Elizabeth, still nagged by instinct to be cautious, harried Josh and Rutha to be cautious, as well.

  Work had settled into a boring routine. Since she did not encourage questions about herself, she found her note numbering edged over the three-thousand mark within the first week of working as a “treasury girl,” a name the women coined for themselves.

  The following Monday she made the acquaintance of Mrs. Hugh Morgan. Jenna, the woman was quick to suggest as she was shown the seat next to hers.

  Elizabeth noticed the other women’s shocked reaction to Jenna before she realized that the violet-eyed young woman with thick, upswept auburn hair, spoke with a harsh intonation that declared her a Yankee.

  Whispered protests were followed by chairs scraping as, one after another, women rose and went en masse to register complaints.

  Elizabeth felt torn. She had Colter’s request to consider, along with the fact that she had met the woman’s husband and found him to be the kindest of Colter’s young men. Surely, she argued with herself, it would be unfair to judge Jenna Morgan by an accident of birth.

  Mrs. Marstand approached them. “Elizabeth, I fear it will take some time explaining and time for the others to reconcile themselves to having Mrs. Morgan work with us. I hope I may count upon you—”

  “Yes,” she interrupted quickly, embarrassed for the other woman to hear herself discussed in such a manner. With a conso
ling pat on her shoulder, Mrs. Marstand left them.

  “I warned Hugh he should find me a position where I could work alone. I write a fine hand and often helped my father with business. Hugh was the one who insisted that I would enjoy being with other women. Just like a man to believe such nonsense.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine once they get to know you, Mrs.—”

  “Jenna, please. And may I call you Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth decided by the close of the day that Jenna Morgan wielded an arrogant manner to hide a sensitive nature. Compassion overruled caution when Jenna, near to tears, revealed that she had ruined several notes and would be penalized her first day, perhaps costing her the position. Discarding her own work, Elizabeth managed to rework the numbers with careful strokes, blotting her own sequence in the process. The thought that Jenna may have taken work from a Southern woman in need disappeared the moment Jenna confessed that she had lost her child. Elizabeth saw the young woman’s hunger for friendship and her loneliness for her husband when Jenna related the details of her illness before and after the birth of her child. The debts were so staggering her family and Hugh could not hope to pay them alone, and so she had to work.

  Shocked by the woman’s emotional outpouring, Elizabeth prayed that Jenna would not expect her to return such intimate confidences. On the contrary, Jenna’s mood seemed to lighten, and Elizabeth fell in with her wish to discuss the war and what was happening in Richmond. She was disappointed that Jenna could shed no light on where Colter and Hugh had gone, thinking herself clever in her roundabout questioning.

  As she told Emily that night, one of her fears had been groundless. “Jenna mentioned that she knew I could not fully understand all she had been through since I was not married.”

  “There, Elizabeth, just as I hoped. And it will be good for you to have a young woman your own age to help pass the time.”

  “We’ll see.” But Elizabeth knew she would encourage the friendship, since Jenna innocently gossiped about Colter and she was hungry to learn what she could.

  By the end of Elizabeth’s second week of work and Jenna’s first, Elizabeth was settled in her decision to befriend Jenna. She became angry that the other women continued to shun Jenna and aligned herself with Jenna, even if she understood the motives that prompted such action.

  It appeared that Jenna rewarded her loyalty with added tales of several social occasions that she, Hugh and Colter had attended, often singing Colter’s praises. She also informed Elizabeth that Colter never fixed his attentions on any one woman, though it was not for their lack of trying.

  Jenna’s frequent mistakes with her notes continued, causing an incident that Elizabeth could not put out of her mind.

  “I assure you, Mrs. Marstand,” Jenna protested, voice quavering in light of the woman’s accusatory tone, “I was given short count.”

  “But that is impossible. It has never, do you hear, never happened before.”

  “Surely, Mrs. Marstand,” Elizabeth interrupted, “you are aware of the circumstances that exist? Won’t you allow for the possibility of it happening?”

  “Well…well, yes,” the woman stuttered, quite taken aback at the thought. She then quickly rallied. “Mrs. Morgan, we are all aware that your sympathies may be divided, but those of a treasury girl cannot be. We must make every effort to protect our treasury from having counterfeited notes fall into enemy hands. It is no secret that the gold reserves are dwindling and have been since long before our declaration of fighting for states’ rights. But this condition exists for Yankees as well. If I accept your word that you were short counted, I must accept the implication that another woman here is guilty of a gross violation of trust. However, I will have the matter looked into and see that it is not repeated.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jenna conceded meekly as the woman went off in a huff.

  Elizabeth could have sworn that she saw a brief flash of triumph in Jenna’s eyes before a sweep of her light-tipped lashes hid them from view. The incident raised suspicions in Elizabeth’s mind. The more she thought about it, the more she felt it didn’t make sense. What could Jenna think to accomplish by taking a few notes? There had been twenty uncorrectable mistakes to date. Twenty? Elizabeth frowned. When had she begun to keep a mental tally of the ruined notes? She certainly had lost count of the many she had shown Jenna how to fix. Why keep account of the supposedly ruined ones?

  Supposedly? Well, it was true. She had not seen the notes.

  With a slight shake of her head, Elizabeth refused to believe it. Jenna was simply afraid to be penalized two dollars. Likely, she was upset by being treated as if her place of birth had somehow stigmatized her beyond redemption. There was also the threat of losing her position.

  Resolving to keep watch for her own peace of mind, Elizabeth decided she would tell Emily about this and hope that the older woman would confirm her conclusions.

  The stress had built to a headache by the time Josh came to get her. Halfway home, an icy rain began to fall. Shaking from the chill, Elizabeth forgot Jenna and her desire to talk to Emily.

  If she hadn’t, the shock of finding Colter waiting would have driven it from her mind.

  Their initial greeting was a silent exchange of glances. Colter rushed to help Josh stable the mules while Rutha fussed over Elizabeth. She couldn’t make a single protest. The chill had seeped into her bones and her lips felt numb.

  Hot coffee liberally dosed with brandy warmed her, but it was Colter’s embrace that turned the winter night into summer after he sent Rutha to tend to her husband.

  His kiss stole her breath and replaced it with his own. “You taste like heaven,” he whispered against her lips, his tongue gliding against hers to relearn the hot, silken textures of her mouth.

  Spirals of intense pleasure flooded her with yearning, making her ache with desire. “I missed you…missed you so,” she murmured, peppering kisses across his chin before his lips found hers once more and offered a taste of sweet promise.

  Elizabeth stood with her back to the fire in the small parlor, her bare toes first curling into the carpet, then stretching to lift her closer to him. Colter’s arm caught around her hips, raising her up and into his body so tightly a feather couldn’t have fit between them.

  Again and again, their lips met and parted, half words and fragmented phrases interspersed between ever-deepening kisses until they were both breathless.

  “When did you come?”

  “An hour ago, no more.”

  “How long can you stay?” she managed.

  Her wide eyes pleaded as eloquently as her soft, shaken voice. Colter smoothed the loose tendrils of hair from her face. He wanted to lie but couldn’t. “A few hours. I’m stealing them as is.”

  Fear made her jerk her head back, her hands framing his beard-stubbled cheeks, holding him still, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Will you court trouble by doing so?”

  “No. Lord, no,” he ground out with intensity. “The trouble comes from not being able to hold you, not seeing you. Please, love, don’t think. Don’t do anything more than give me your mouth.” His lips brushed hers, willing her to lose reason, wanting to drag her into the thunder and fire that churned within him.

  With surprising strength she held him at bay. “Colter, think. You can’t risk—”

  “I can. I will. I need you, Elizabeth. I need your warmth and your love, not war. I’ve had enough of war.”

  She fought off a shiver of apprehension. Helpless to argue, she gave him what he claimed he wanted. Her warmth. Her unspoken love. Her mouth.

  And he took all he could, savoring these moments to stave off the growing darkness within his soul.

  Her heart ached. The wildness that had overtaken them led to a danger point she could not cross. She sensed that Colter was aware of this, too. His kisses became soft touches, as if unwilling to part from her tender offerings. Slowly, so slowly, she listened to his breathing become deeper, steadier, and it helped her to still the pounding of her
heart, the coil of tension unfurling inside her.

  He cradled her head to his chest, one hand working the pins free until her hair tumbled down in a thick mass. Elizabeth tilted her head to one side to see his face. She was arrested by the sensual line of his mouth and his eyes, indolently watching her. A roguish grin flirted with his lips, but without a word, he granted her the tranquillity of being held without further demand.

  Her fingers teased the ragged edge of his sideburn, lingering, without thought to arousing him, to trace the shape of his ear. He drew her fingertips down to place a gentle kiss upon them, then settled her hand on his chest.

  “You’d tempt a devil to breach heaven’s gate, love, with your touch. I’m not a saint, Elizabeth, I’ve never claimed to be, but knowing that you wait here makes this a corner of heaven for me.”

  Her lashes lifted, revealing eyes bright with the start of tears that she attempted to blink away. Meeting Colter’s gaze, she encountered a hungry look that flushed her cheeks with color. For a few moments more, she held on to the sweet delirium his words offered; they did have something special to cherish even if they could not claim it. Colter embodied both anguish and ecstasy. Anguish for being the man she loved but did not marry, and ecstasy for making her flower again with the ardent passion he openly displayed.

  Safety lay in distance. But both her will and her flesh were weak. She did not want to leave the heat and security that being held by him offered.

  Colter contemplated her beautiful upturned face, knowing full well the battle raging within her, tempted despite his unspoken vow of patience to persuade her that denial was not the better part of valor. The thought of seducing Elizabeth rose to tantalize him.

  As if she sensed the turn of his thoughts, Elizabeth found her will strengthened and she managed to break away. “Have you eaten?” she asked, taking several steps toward the door. It was just now dawning on her that no one, not even Nicole, had come to disturb them.