In His Eyes: A Civil War Romance

by Stephenia H. McGee

  “You thought about what my hair would feel like?”

  He rubbed the tress between his fingers. “That and more.”

  Her eyes widened and she stared at him. “What have you come for?”

  A simple question that did not possess an equally simple answer. “I came to see you. I will ride out tomorrow.”

  He dropped her hair and took a step closer, the distance between them but a handbreadth. She turned her face up to him, and he remembered the feel of her in his arms earlier today. He had kissed ladies before, and while he had always found a thrill in it, none of them had ever stirred him the way she had. No woman had made him want to give up anything for her. And that terrified him, yet sent a thrill that coursed through his blood like lightning and made him ache to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers.

  If only for this night, could he forget what he’d said about them being wed in name only and make of her his wife in truth? Ella blinked up at him, desire and fear conflicting in her eyes.

  He ran a finger over her lips. “Do you want me, Ella, as I want you?”

  She swallowed hard, her green eyes alight. “I know not of what you speak.”

  He chuckled. “Do you not? Surely you are aware of the ways of men and women.”

  A dark cloud doused the fire in her eyes and she stepped back. “Aye, I’ve seen the ways of men.”

  The muscles in his jaw tightened and the bite in her tone clipped his desire. He frowned. “Did someone hurt you?”

  She shook her head and stepped away, wrapping her arms around her middle.

  “Ella…?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Three men tried, once, but they didn’t make it…all the way.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed and he growled. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s nothing. I was fine. Bushwhackers.” She barked a humorless laugh that made Westley’s teeth grind. “Lucky for me that cowboy came down the alley shooting at them and they scattered.”

  Westley stepped closer and gripped her shoulders. “Did he kill them?”

  She shook her head, soft tendrils of hair sweeping against her cheeks. “No, but he scared them away for me.”

  Some miscreants had attacked her and had tried to take from her what she would never give them. If he had been there, he would have likely gunned them down and watched them bleed. He never allowed his soldiers to abuse women, enemy or no, and most bushwhackers were the devil’s own spawn.

  “Westley!” Ella gasped. “You’re hurting my arms.”

  He blinked and dropped his hands, unaware that he had started to squeeze her. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. My anger seems to have gotten the better of me.”

  Her eyes softened, and he ran a hand through his hair. “The very thought of someone hurting you….”

  She laid a hand on his shirtsleeve. “Thank you. It’s been ages since I have known such protection.”

  He reached up and cupped her face. “Know that I would never take anything from you that you were not willing to give.”

  “Of course,” she said, even as relief flooded her eyes. Did she think that he would ever do such a thing?

  He stepped back. He had come to her room when she wore nothing but a dressing gown, his mind filled with things that were not at all in alignment with their agreement that their vows were spoken in name only.

  She took a step toward him, and then another. Her eyes burned with questions, but she slipped her hands up his shoulders and back behind his neck. “Westley.”

  His name came out more breath than word, and his lips came to hers. She yielded to him, and passion erupted within him. His hands explored the back of her head and tangled in the glory of her hair.

  Her fingers slid up the nape of his neck and grabbed at his short tresses, further stoking the passion straining for release. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the floor. She sucked in a breath, but did not remove her lips from his even as he turned her and laid her on the bed.

  He kissed her cheeks, then let his lips leave trails down her jaw and onto her neck, and when she shivered he lay next to her. He wanted to know her in every way a man could know a woman. Not just in her body, though he desperately wanted that now, but in her heart and mind. He wanted to explore every part of her, teaching her to trust him.

  “Westley…?”

  He tested the softness of the place where her neck met her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Do you love me?” Her voice trembled. “As…as I do you?”

  He paused, the words slamming into him. “You are my wife.”

  She chewed her lower lip, and he could feel what had just been soft and yielded to him start to harden. “Aye, but you did not answer my question.”

  “I feel a great stirring for you, Ella. You have…captivated me.”

  She released the breath held captive in her lungs, and he lowered his head to find that tender place once more, but her fingers slipped into his hair and gently eased him back.

  “I do not want to ask you to stop.” She drew a long breath and eased away from him. “But I am afraid I must.”

  Westley slowly rubbed her shoulder. “Do not say that you don’t want me as I do you. I will know it to be a lie.”

  The lamplight danced across her skin, flickering against it and tempting him to see more of her.

  She ran her hand down his jaw. “That I will not do. But I cannot perform an act of love without love.” She shook her head. “Vows or not.”

  “Ella, I….”

  She placed her fingers on his lips. “Don’t. Please don’t speak any words to me that do not so fill your heart and mind that they have no choice but to spring from your lips. If you hold any affection for me, do not say words that we will both regret come dawn.”

  Westley swung off the bed and heard her gasp. What a callous cad! He clenched his fists. He had nearly let his desire run away with him under the excuse that this woman was legally his wife. But he had asked her to wed in name only. Now he had come to try to take something intimate from her without the decency of providing her the real relationship that must come first.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  Even in the dim light, he could see the pain that filled her eyes. Pain he had caused by his own selfish desires. He turned his head away. “You were right. I am naught but a devil. I must beg your forgiveness in attempting to violate the agreement we set forth.”

  “Westley, I….”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Better that neither of us say words we would regret in the morning.”

  She snapped her jaw closed, and as moisture glazed her eyes, he turned away. He could not stand to see the pain replace the warmth in her eyes, knowing he was the cause. “Goodnight, Ella.”

  She didn’t respond and he moved toward his own room. He paused and turned to look at her. “You have turned something within me, little dragon. With you near, I am a better man. A man quick to humor and teasing such as I have not been since I was a boy.” He flexed his fingers, tension so tight in his body he felt like a spring coiled too tightly. “I long to know everything about you.”

  She rose and came closer, searching out his face in the lamplight. “As I wish to know you. Is that not what draws two people together?”

  He chuckled. “I am most surely drawn to you. The very thought of being separated from you on the morrow has so driven me to madness that I flung aside all of my better judgment just to seek the warmth of you.”

  Ella came closer and slid her hand over his arm. “So then you do feel for me as I do you, and this bond between us can be more.” She turned her eyes up at him, further tempting him to take what she offered. It was what he so desired, yet knew he should not gain without first securing her trust.

  She’d wanted to know if he loved her, but he didn’t know if he truly understood what that meant. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I do not know if I can say the words you wish from me. I want to protect you, provide for you, and
do everything in my power to see that you live a happy life.”

  Her emerald eyes swam with emotions that threatened to unmoor them both. He must hold fast. “My beautiful, precious Ella. Know that I long for you, and that I will do everything in my power to care for you.”

  She bit her lip and turned her eyes away. “But you do not love me.”

  Did he? The chaplain had said that love was patient, kind, longsuffering, not puffed up, or envious. And Westley was none of the good things and all of the bad. He was prideful, arrogant, and rather impatient.

  How then, could he love as she wanted him to love, when he could provide her with none of those things?

  Pain flooded her eyes, pain he had caused. A good thing he returned to duty on the morrow. The less he was here to hurt her, the better. “I require but a bit of time.”

  She straightened her shoulders, and a determined look came into her eyes. “It is enough, husband. Come, make of me your wife in truth.”

  Westley clenched his hands, wanting nothing more in that moment than to give in. “You said you wished only to do so with a man who loves you.”

  “You are my husband.”

  Westley took a lock of her hair and twisted it in his fingers. “And as your husband, I wish to gain your trust by honoring your wish.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight, Ella.”

  She drew a deep breath and leaned into him. “Goodnight.”

  He turned from her and closed the door before he risked sweeping her into his arms and making himself a liar. Back in the coldness of the master’s chamber, he lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He could give her a home and a safe life for the child. He would hold her in the greatest regard and treat her with gentleness.

  But as something clawed deep within him seeking to break free, he wondered, would that be enough?

  Ella turned over on her back and watched the dawn chase away her sleepless night. Today would be trying, and she had spent several hours attempting to pray away the hurt that stuck to her soul like tar. He didn’t love her.

  He’d said some beautiful things. But the more she’d contemplated the conversation, the more she was sure he was trying to be gentle and kind. He’d only felt desire for her. While she could not deny she’d felt the same, she wanted something more. She wanted him to love away the empty places inside her and to return this feeling that seared her heart.

  Is it too much to ask for the man I am bound to for life to love me?

  Ella closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. On the other side of the door, she could hear Lee waking and Sibby singing softly to him. He would nurse, then sleep again for a few hours. And while he slept, the man for whom he’d been named would leave them.

  She swung her feet off the bed. She had survived this far on her own. She would do so now. Ella pulled on her simple tan day dress and tamed her long hair into a tight braid before twisting it into a sensible bun and securing it to the back of her head.

  She didn’t want to remember the way his fingers had felt against her scalp, but the memory pushed through. She washed her face in the basin. Her eyes were red, but there was nothing she could do about it. She straightened her collar and then turned to the dresser. She’d found something there she knew that Westley would need on his journey.

  She could hear him rise in the next room and listened to his footsteps move around for a few moments before fortifying herself for what lay ahead. She slipped out of her room and down the stairs, where she would wait for him in the foyer. She would not allow him to slip away unnoticed.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  Westley clomped down the stairs in his Yankee uniform without the aid of his cane. She watched him as he descended, from his polished boots to the shoulder boards on his shell jacket until his eyes locked onto hers.

  His expression was hard. Stone erased the gentle curve of his lips, and steel glinted in his eyes, replacing all the things she had glimpsed in their depths last night. He paused on the steps.

  “Miss….” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Mrs. Remington.”

  Her heart lurched. “Westley.”

  He came down the last remaining steps and hefted a haversack over his shoulder. “I have borrowed a horse from the Martins to take to the depot. Someone will return it to them. If for any reason something happens to the horse, please make sure that a replacement is found for them.”

  “I will.”

  He shifted his weight. “And do not let Sibby take advantage of you. She has a good heart, but you must take care not to let her attempt to browbeat you.”

  “I shall do my best.”

  “On the dressing table in my room I left you a list of names and account information. Should you need funds, contact those men and give them the information.” He reached up and squeezed her shoulder. “If anything happens and you need me, send for Colonel Larson. He has promised that any letter you write will be posted to me, and that if you are ever in dire need, that a telegraph will be delivered to my outpost.”

  Ella pulled her lower lip through her teeth. “Will you write to me?”

  His eyes softened. “Would you like me to?”

  “Aye, Westley, you know I would.” Even if he would never feel for her as she did him, she would need to know how he fared. “I want to know that you are safe.”

  He dropped his hand. “It is time I go.”

  Ella lifted the small object she’d brought down with her. “I found this in your mother’s dresser. I think you should take it with you.”

  He took the little book from her and ran his fingers over the cover. “My mother used to read this to me when I was a child, telling me all the rules God had for us.”

  Ella tilted her head. “It’s more than just rules, Westley.”

  He turned his lips up in that way she knew meant he was amused with her words. She clutched his arm and stepped closer, peering up into his face. “You know that, right? He is the way of salvation and healing.”

  Westley’s eyes grew wary. “I am glad you believe as strongly as my mother did. But I—”

  “You were the one whose prayers were answered. You saw the miracle that happened, yet you still doubt?”

  His eyes became troubled. “I do not doubt. I know that he is real, and that sometimes he answers when he wants to.” He cupped her cheek. “And I am so glad he decided to see your pain and, for once, do something about it.”

  She turned her face into his hand. “Promise me you will read it.”

  He stepped back. “Why?”

  “Because I want you to see him as I do. He is warmth and light and goodness. Only he can take what is dark in us and begin to wash it away.”

  Westley’s jaw twitched.

  “Please? For me?”

  He inhaled slowly. “For you. Though I make no other promise.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. She knew she shouldn’t do such things, but she needed to hold him this once before he took his leave. His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head.

  Then he stiffened and pulled away. “I must go.”

  “Please, be safe.”

  He pushed his kepi on his head and opened the door. “I will endeavor to do my best. Try not to get yourself into any trouble.”

  Ella wrinkled her nose. “What trouble could I possibly get into?”

  He chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “I will send word when I reach Kansas.”

  She followed him out onto the porch, the cheery sunshine and twittering birds in stark contrast with the shadows in her heart. He swung up in the saddle, then turned the horse and galloped down the drive.

  And in a matter of moments, he disappeared from her life just as quickly as he had first dropped into it.

  St. Joseph, Missouri

  Westley ran his sleeve over his forehead, his blue uniform already damp with sweat, and the day had not even reached noon. He smiled to himself as he tapped his kepi against
his leg to free it from some of the dust before placing it back on his head. Good thing Ella couldn’t smell him now. After miles of rail and horse travel and nearly a week without a chance to bathe, his uniform had taken on a rather unpleasant smell. She would surely wrinkle her nose in that adorable way she had and….

  He clenched his jaw. Here he was thinking about her again. He shouldered his haversack and stepped into the booming town at the westernmost point of the rail line. He would stay here for a few days until he met up with the company heading out to Fort Aubrey, Kansas.

  Westley maneuvered his way into the busy flow of people, horses, and wagons clamoring in the streets. The army was sending him to an outpost to protect western travelers from Indian attack. From what he had been told, he could look forward to a small wooden fortification and a collection of tents positioned around protecting a bit of water and marking the line for the Santa Fe Trail.

  And that’s what he had given up Ella for? A post in the wilderness to fend Indians off of wagon trains? He was a fool. One thing that his time alone had done for him was give him time to think. And read. And oddly enough, pray.

  It was the thinking part he had tried his best to avoid. Thinking had only caused a chafing that he could not get rid of, no matter how he tried to distract his thoughts. Ever they returned to Ella. This feeling he had, this inability to put her from his mind, both scared and thrilled him.

  He stepped around a wagon loaded with supplies and up onto a wooden walkway. This inability to control one’s own thoughts must be what caused men to take leave of their senses and act a fool for a woman. This deep devotion he felt for her could not be erased by her absence. If anything, the last days had taught him that separation from her only made it worse.

  And that being the case, he had only one choice. He’d promised himself he would decide once he arrived at this port to the western world, but truth be told he’d decided days ago. He would send a telegram back to Colonel Larson in Greenville and ask that the man send Ella a message.

  Dust drifted in the air and settled on him, the sounds of braying mules, shouting men, and rumbling wagons creating a clamor of noise and a disjointed atmosphere of hope, fervor, and competition. He had to duck beneath two men carrying some kind of beam and leap back out of the way before an elderly man with a handcart ran him over.