A Corner of Heaven

by Raine Cantrell

  “Other than a bruised ego reminding him he isn’t as spry as he likes to believe, he’s fine.” Emily patted Elizabeth’s hand in both thanks and reassurance. “I’ll get that hot water so you can hurry and see Nicole.”

  “She wasn’t—”

  “Nicole isn’t…”

  Emily looked from one to the other as they both spoke at the same time. She forced herself to meet Elizabeth’s pleading gaze, even as her words sought to calm Colter. “All I can see are minor scratches. What I can’t see, I can’t tell you about, dears. Only time will reveal the answer.”

  Colter bit back an angry retort, afraid that Elizabeth would panic. But she merely nodded and once again rested her head on his shoulder. He brushed past Emily and carried Elizabeth into the bedroom where he set her on the bed.

  Colter forced himself to remove her clothes with a gentleness he hoped would soothe her. Elizabeth’s docility didn’t fool him. He sensed she was reliving every moment of terror.

  Wrapping her in the quilt, he retrieved the decanter of brandy and a glass from the parlor and poured a small bit for her to sip. She pulled away when the liquor stung her lip, and Colter didn’t try to force her to drink more. He didn’t have any himself. The little that was left wouldn’t remove his feelings of guilt. He paced until Emily, followed by Josh, came with hot water and clean cloths. When they tried to talk to Elizabeth, he cut them off and ushered them out of the room.

  Elizabeth sat unseeing, offering no resistance as Colter tenderly bathed her face and then lowered the quilt to expose her shoulders. He had turned to rinse the cloth and wring it out when he caught sight of his face in the mirror, quickly forcing his expression of pain and fury to disappear. Her skin was marred by an already darkening bruise, and before he washed it, his lips offered the healing balm of his kiss.

  Over and over, he repeated his actions, masking his reaction to every slight scratch, each scrape, offering no words, just his silent, gentle kisses until he knelt before her, drying her feet. The quilt had shifted so that one leg was bare, and he rested his bowed head against it, praying to find the right words to say. His fingertips skimmed the outline of purpling flesh on her rib cage, and his throat closed, just as his mind refused to find words.

  Elizabeth roused herself and with one hand brushed his hair. The tender ministrations, his silent declarations of love, flooded her heart. She knew in the ensuing moments that, even if he never asked her to break vows she had made before God and man, she would break them. And rejoice while doing so. Colter’s love was a gift that she could no longer deny. He was her strength. For she sensed, as she focused her gaze fully on him, that Colter was flaying himself over what had happened. By making himself this vulnerable, and allowing her to see him so, he made her strong.

  The moments were few before he accepted that no words would come and helped her into her night rail and wrapper. Neither spoke, but there was a shared serenity in their looks, a sense of their willingness to wait. Their child needed them now. Later there would be time for talk and for love.

  Colter once again lifted her into his arms and, when she protested, said, “I need to hold you. Don’t deny me this.”

  And silently she whispered to herself, I can deny you nothing, love, nothing.

  Three lamps lit Nicole’s room. Rutha rose from her place by the bed as they entered. Neither of them noticed when she left them; Colter placed Elizabeth on one side of Nicole and himself on the other.

  Colter’s heart filled to overflowing when Elizabeth joined her hand with his across their child’s body and raised his to her lips. Her light kiss and look seemed both to beg support and offer him courage before she turned to Nicole.

  “We both came to make sure that you feel safe, precious.”

  “Did you slay him?” Nicole asked Colter, her eyes wide, her small mouth quivering before she pressed her lips together. Her little hand crept out from beneath the quilt to touch Colter’s arm.

  Squeezing Elizabeth’s hand to still the betraying tremble of his own, Colter shifted so that Nicole nestled closer to his body. He had to swallow several times before he could trust himself to speak without venting the coil of emotions that rocked him. She was his princess and he her promised knight, who had vowed to slay all her dragons. He longed to tell her, yes, he had slain the creature that would be the subject of his daughter’s night terrors.

  “I arrived too late to chase him down, Nicole,” he finally answered. “But I wanted to hurt him for hurting you and your mother.”

  “He’s awful bad. An’ Mister Josh an’ Dobie gots scared. Mama hit him. An’ then I think Dobie gots mad.”

  “Yes, he was bad and you’re right to believe that Dobie was mad. Mama was brave. But they all love you, princess. Just like Rutha and Miss Emily. But you remember that no one loves you more than Mama and me. And when you love someone, you want them to be safe where no one can harm them,” he whispered just as his voice broke. Colter brushed a kiss across her temple, breathing in the sweet scent that belonged to her, feeling a loosening of the band that held his heart. He fought a burning sensation in his eyes when Nicole’s lips touched his cheek.

  “I don’t have a papa to love. So can I love you?”

  Colter’s eyes closed to hide the rush of tears that he rapidly blinked away. “All you want,” he managed to say past the lump in his throat.

  “You mustn’t be so sad, Mister Colonel. I’m the bad one. I runned after the pretty swans an’ didn’t come to Mama when she called. I didn’t know the bad man was there. He wouldn’t let me scream. But I kicked him, real hard. Dobie told me to.”

  “When did Dobie tell you that, love?” Elizabeth asked, forcing the words out. She wished to bury these past hours but knew Nicole had to talk about it if she was ever to forget it.

  “We ’tended. Dobie says it’s the goodest game.”

  “Tended?” Colter asked, dragging his gaze from Nicole’s face to look at Elizabeth.

  “Nicole loves to play pretend,” she explained, feeling a sense of healing as they talked. “I have much to thank Dobie for.”

  “We both do,” Colter said, once more turning his attention to his daughter.

  “You’re a very brave princess and Mama is proud of you,” Elizabeth whispered, but her eyes met Colter’s, filled with anger that their child had to suffer any fear.

  Nicole wiggled about, freeing her other hand and bringing theirs to cover hers. “Rua gave me tea, Mama,” she said with a yawn. Her eyelids fluttered once, twice and then closed.

  “Sleep, precious. Sleep with the sweetest of dreams.”

  To muffle the sob she couldn’t contain, Elizabeth bit her puffed lip and heard Colter repeat her words.

  Colter’s throat closed again. Among the warring emotions he felt, pride for his child’s courage overcame his own feelings of inadequacy and failure. He spent a long time gazing at her sleeping face before he looked at Elizabeth with a new tenderness in his eyes.

  “With all my heart I thank you for giving me the gift of this beautiful child. No soldier in the field could match her spirit and courage.”

  In that moment, when she saw the adoration for her and their child, Elizabeth stripped away the last trace of betrayal from the past.

  “No, Colter, I am the one who was given the gift of having Nicole as a living reminder of your love for me.”

  They stayed and watched until Colter knew that Nicole’s sleep was peaceful. Only then did he once more insist on carrying Elizabeth downstairs to the parlor.

  At her demand, he set her on her feet. A small fire was already burning in the fireplace, adding its warmth to the balmy night. Colter opened his tunic buttons, suddenly realizing it was the first time in three days he had done so.

  “Colter, Rutha fixed you a tray,” she said, calling his attention to the linen-draped tray on the sideboard.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in bed, Elizabeth?”

  “Oh, I will be,” she answered, hiding a small secret s
mile as she fixed a plate of cold ham, biscuits and slices of hard winter pears for him. “Would you like a glass of cider?”

  Bemused, he didn’t answer her.

  “Colter?” She turned to find his expression puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

  “I might ask you the same,” he returned, coming to her side.

  “You haven’t eaten, have you?” He shook his head. “I thought as much. And it’s likely you haven’t had a rest or a chance to bathe. I wouldn’t be surprised to find fresh hot water in the bedroom along with clean linens for you.”

  “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised, either.”

  “Good. Then you won’t waste time arguing.” She turned back to the plate she was arranging, her breaths shallow until he moved away. “You needn’t worry so, Colter. I simply want the pleasure of taking care of you for a little while. A return of—”

  “Don’t,” he intoned in a mock-stern voice, “say favor, little fox. I’d never believe it.”

  “Then I won’t.” She glanced up and offered him a too bright smile. Colter stepped closer to the bedroom doorway. Water was steaming from the china basin, his razor and strop were neatly laid on linen and his clothes draped over the straight chair. “When did you manage to have this arranged?”

  “I didn’t. We all care a great deal about you. And each one tries to show you how much in his own way.” Elizabeth couldn’t meet his penetrating gaze.

  “That’s all this is?” he asked, his voice soft.

  “Yes.”

  Rubbing his unshaven jaw, Colter grinned. “Can’t deny I stink like a bluebelly and—”

  “No,” she cut in, looking directly at him, “you don’t stink. I’m not wrinkling up my nose, am I? I love being near you, for you are all that a man—”

  “Hold that thought, Elizabeth,” he whispered, ducking into the bedroom. Desire blazed in his eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Colter took his time. But when he finished shaving, he began to think of the news he had brought for her. How was he going to tell her what he had learned so far about James?

  Stripped of his uniform, he washed absently, still trying to marshal his emotions into order. Barefoot, he padded over to the bed, tossing aside his shirt and putting on his close-fitting breeches. He carefully brushed the bits of bark that had fallen from her hair and scooped them up with the pine needles that clung to the quilt.

  For a moment, he relived terrifying minutes when he first saw her and held her close, fear exploding through him. Fisting his hand around these reminders, he walked back and let them fall into the basin, watching as they floated. Harmless debris, that is all they were, all he must let them be.

  And to ensure that, he removed Elizabeth’s hairbrush from her dresser, taking it with him into the parlor.

  Elizabeth sat on the carpet before the fire, gilded in its light. Colter paused, studying her profile, his mind making a new memory to replace his earlier one of her. There was something serene in the delicate bones of her features as she contemplated the flames, and he had no wish to make his presence known.

  But she turned then, a shy smile tilting her lips. “Come, sit beside me,” she offered, gesturing to one side. “I have your food here.” But she averted her gaze from the sight of his bare chest. “I know you must be hungry.”

  Elizabeth felt her ears burn as she heard what she said. The room had seemed restful before he entered it; now it was charged with a current of awareness that made her tense.

  Seeking to put her at ease, Colter joined her on the floor, using the settee as a backrest and stretching out his long legs before him. He watched her come to her knees with a graceful move, placing the plate on his lap before she sat on his left, partially turned to the fire.

  “What did you eat, Elizabeth?”

  She turned quickly, almost losing her balance. “I didn’t eat.”

  “I thought as much. Well, you can’t expect me to finish this alone. You’ll have to help me.” Colter offered her a charming smile, meant to entice not to alarm. “Come, lean back here, and we’ll share.”

  Elizabeth gazed up at him, finding within the gold flecks of his dark green eyes a reflection of the flames. She gained no insight to his thoughts or his intent. His smile was fixed, and she couldn’t help but respond to it, just as she responded to the promise in his voice to share food. Her conscience had reemerged and she was unsure of what she would do if he asked more of her. Settling at his side, she noticed the hairbrush.

  “Why did you bring that out with you?”

  “Because there wasn’t time before to untangle your hair.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I doubt it, love, but you will allow me my pleasure, too.”

  She accepted a bit of ham from his hand, then shared a slice of winter pear.

  “If you want to talk to me, Elizabeth, I’m here for you.” Now, his mind supplied with a bitter lash of guilt.

  “Do you make that same offer to your soldiers under fire? To listen, I mean. I don’t know,” she continued in a rush, “if I want to talk about it, Colter. I feel guilty, at fault, and wonder how I’ll cope now that I’m sure Alma has found us.”

  “One thing you won’t do, love, is cope with this alone.” An idea began to form, but he wasn’t ready to discuss it with her. Nor was she ready to hear it. But he could lay the groundwork. “You’re isolated here and I worry about all of you. Dobie is good, but I can’t assign another man—”

  “How did you manage to have him here?”

  “That, Elizabeth,” he chided with a light tap on her nose, “I cannot tell you. I am not denying the Confederate forces of his valuable services.” He glanced away, chewing slowly, knowing that truth lay beneath his lie. Dobie was valuable, and the Confederacy would only waste his talents while he served out his sentence for repeated insubordination, but having Elizabeth know this wouldn’t serve to reassure her. He took her silence on the matter as acceptance.

  “To continue what I was saying, I worry. If you had close neighbors, or lived in the city, the attempt to take Nicole may not have been made. It is something to think about.” He felt her shiver and, while he regretted having caused it, knew playing on her fear would eventually help him ensure her and Nicole’s safety.

  He tried tempting her to eat more, but she refused and Colter set the plate aside. He thought again of his news. While it was inconclusive, it still offered him hope that he would have an answer soon about James’s fate. If Elizabeth felt out of control, what he had to tell her might give her back a small measure of security.

  “Love, you remember I promised to find out what I could about James?”

  “Don’t, Colter. Not now.” Elizabeth shuddered. Just his mention of James’s name when she was warring with her conscience jarred her.

  Colter sighed, letting the matter drop. Perhaps the timing was wrong. And it wasn’t as if he could say with certainty that James was dead or alive. He brushed a fleeting kiss over her hair and slammed the door on his own conscience.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned back against his shoulder, letting his warmth seep into her own chilled body. But the sights that waited for her behind closed lids were those of looming shadows and massive trees that shut her away from Nicole. Rigid, she jerked forward, panting as she stared unseeing at the fire, willing the flames to burn terror to ash.

  With a gentle touch, Colter urged her back against his chest. Her soft wool wrapper brushed against his flesh. He murmured meaningless sounds and as the minutes passed, felt her body soften as her breathing grew even. He rubbed his chin against her hair, feeling the prick of the pine needles and wanting them gone. Using one hand, he eased into the tangle and with long soothing strokes, kneaded the tension from her neck and scalp. Rewarded with her small sounds of pleasure, he continued.

  Elizabeth shifted closer to him and her hand brushed the blunt ridge of flesh rising from his breeches. She knew Colter wanted her and couldn’t prevent his desire from showing. But once again, h
er heart opened to his love, touched by his not pushing her to make a decision when she was still unsure. Her eyes drifted closed and the nightmare was held at bay as she was lulled by his soothing, gentle massage.

  Colter watched the delicate shadows created by the twin light-tipped lashes on her cheeks. He kissed her hair, so lightly that she didn’t stir, and then he picked up the brush.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, an intoxicating languor pervading her body.

  “I won’t, little fox. I just want to give you more pleasure.” He brushed her hair slowly, stopping to work through knotted tangles, whispering velvet apologies when he inadvertently hurt her. He was uncaring of time, for being near her offered his mind and body the peace they craved. And as her pleasurable murmurs grew and her hair became more softly curled and silky to his touch, he was given a sensual caress against his skin in payment.

  Setting aside the brush, he used his hands, his eyelids heavy as he watched the curled strands cling to his fingers like a lover’s teasing strokes. Her lavish appreciative murmurs of his name, whispered over and over as her body relaxed and grew heavy against his, added an exquisite coil of tension that fevered his blood.

  The flame heated the spice color of her hair so she appeared seductive, but the curled length fell against her creamy colored, almost virginally cut wrapper, making him think of her innocence.

  Elizabeth twisted in his arms, turning to face him. For a moment she stared up at the dark, masculine features that loomed above her. His lips were full, slightly parted, adding to the sensual flare of his nostrils. With her eyes holding his, she reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, longing to return each lavish sensation that embraced her. His eyes were already kindled with an insistent passion that bathed her senses with rapture. Colter’s lips brushed against hers with a delicacy both tender and enticing, and a ripple of desire misted through her. With a sweet gossamer touch, she returned his kiss, feeling her unwanted conscience raise its warnings.