Unwilling Warrior

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “May I be so bold as to ask to take a photograph of you?”

  “Now?”

  “Right now. We’re done with all the paying customers.” He smiled and took another drink from the tin cup.

  “But I look completely disheveled.” Valerie shook her head. “Look at my skirt!”

  “I’ll make sure my camera only captures you from the waist on up.”

  Valerie managed a little nod. What could it hurt?

  He grinned. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.”

  Benjamin moved the chair nearer to his wagon. “Sit here.” Placing his strong hands on her shoulders, he gently turned her just so. “I’ll try to capture my wagon in the background so this photograph will serve as a reminder of your outing today. Something to show your grandchildren one day.”

  “Grandchildren!” Valerie blinked.

  Emily raised a gloved hand to her mouth and laughed. “Mercy, Ben!”

  “Now, Em, don’t go twisting things.” He set his hands on his hips and narrowed his gaze at her. “I only meant the photograph will be a keepsake for future generations, that’s all.”

  Valerie hid the smile that touched her lips.

  Benjamin turned back to her. “Now, you’re going to have to stay still.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I need Valerie to hold still, Em, so stop your giggling.”

  “I can’t help it, Ben.”

  Valerie smoothed her skirts, adjusted her woolen cape, and straightened her bonnet. She tried to summon her most serious expression, but it wasn’t easy with Em laughing nearby.

  Meanwhile, Benjamin repositioned his camera. “Don’t move.”

  Valerie held her breath and willed every muscle not to quiver.

  Half a minute later, he appeared from beneath his camera’s black drape. “Got it.” He handed the plate to Mr. Culver, who ran it over to the other wagon for the developing process.

  “Well, I guess that’s it. Let’s get things put away and head back.”

  Emily glanced at her husband as he collected his equipment. “Ben, Clint and I are staying in our wagon tonight. Clint said we’ll just stay here at the camp.”

  He paused, looking from her to his partner. “Why’s that?”

  Clint sent him a quick look. “We just decided it’d be best.”

  Benjamin didn’t reply but stood there with hands on hips in tentative thought.

  Valerie sensed the reason for the Culvers’ camping in their wagon had something to do with limited resources.

  “You’re welcome to stay at my home.” She blurted out the offer before thinking better of it, although she doubted her father would mind. And there was another spare bedroom. “We have plenty of room.” Valerie glanced at Adalia, who replied with an enthused nod. Then she peered at her new friend and finally at Mr. Culver. “So, will you be my guests?”

  A long moment of consideration passed before Emily crossed the short distance between them and placed her arm around Valerie’s shoulders. “Thank you for your kind offer. We’d be honored.” Looking back, she added, “Right, Clint?”

  He replied with a half bow. Gratitude shone in his dark eyes. “Yes, thank you, Miss Fontaine.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled.” She smiled and turned her gaze to Benjamin, noticing his expression of appreciation for her offer.

  Once the gear was packed, they headed for their wagons. “I enjoyed m’self today,” Adalia said as Benjamin helped her up onto the bench.

  Valerie had already climbed aboard with his assistance and noticed Adalia’s cheeks were as pink as raspberries from the sun and crisp, winter air.

  “I must have written ten letters to fathers, mothers, and sweethearts for our brave soldiers.” She adjusted her skirts.

  Benjamin swung himself up onto the bench and picked up the reins. “Clint and Em are going to stop at a photographer’s in the city and drop off the plates. The proprietor has agreed to rent a corner of his studio to us. But after that, the Culvers will be along.”

  “In time for supper, I hope,” Adalia said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave a slap of the reins and they started off, jostling along the dirt pathway that led in and out of camp. “Thank you for coming along today. I know you ladies were a blessing to the soldiers.”

  “Perhaps, but ’twas us who got blessed,” Adalia said.

  Valerie agreed but noted Benjamin’s somber expression.

  “I just pray the Confederate Army realizes what it’s up against. The North is developing its weaponry and increasing the size of its navy. The South sadly lags behind. I fear the worst is yet to come.”

  Hearing the news, Valerie began to tremble as a dark apprehension threatened to sweep her away. She’d had a similar feeling back at school—was it fear or just the realization that she had no control over many of life’s circumstances?

  “Are you cold, Valerie?” Benjamin asked.

  “I–I’m all r–right.”

  “Why, you’re shaking, dearie. Y’ must have caught a chill.” Adalia pressed in Valerie’s cape so it fit more snugly. “These wraps might be the height of fashion, but they sure can’t keep a girl warm like a thick wool coat.”

  Benjamin shrugged out of his overcoat. “Here, take mine.” He set the horses’ reins under one boot momentarily as he blanketed Valerie.

  “But then y–you’ll be c–cold.”

  “I’m used to a lot colder. Boston is freezing this time of year, and back home in Missouri, this weather would be considered downright balmy for January.”

  “Th–thank you.” A musky, manly scent filled her nostrils, and the heat from his body still lingered in the wool, warming her at once.

  “You mentioned Missouri. Tell me more about Jericho Junction.”

  Benjamin chuckled. “Not much more to tell.”

  “What does your home look like? How many rooms?”

  “Hmm, let’s see . . . ” He seemed to do a quick mental inventory. “Drawing room, kitchen, dining room downstairs, three bedrooms upstairs. My parents in one, us boys in another, and Sarah and Leah in the last but biggest bedroom.” There was a smile in his voice when he added, “My sisters were always favored over us boys. But now, since Leah got married and moved out, Sarah has that nice, big bedroom all to herself, the spoiled little thing.”

  “And Leah’s the sister who’s expecting a baby any day now?” Valerie recalled hearing the fact last night at the Elliots’. “How exciting for your family.”

  “I think it’s going to be a boy. Just a hunch, though.”

  Valerie watched him, noting the smile that touched his eyes at the mention of a nephew. “What does Leah’s husband do for a living?”

  “Blacksmithing, although Jonathan enlisted and went off to fight with the same regiment as Jake.”

  “But Jake was wounded and returned home.”

  “That’s right.” Benjamin chuckled.

  Valerie grinned, glad she’d remembered correctly. “Is Jericho Junction part of the Union or Confederate States?”

  “Union, although not officially. There are still a lot of staunch Confederates in the state. Our town and my family are true representations of that political split in philosophies—just like Missouri itself. My parents are Union supporters. Jake is a Confederate. Luke and I, however, tend to waver in our views because of our professions. In fact, I photographed Federal soldiers the night Luke held a big camp revival meeting—that was before he went missing.”

  Valerie tipped her head. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Does Colonel LaPorte know of your, um, wavering?”

  “Can’t say as I know whether he’s aware of it or not.” Benjamin said with an easy chuckle. “No doubt, if he found out, he’d intend to convert me.”

  “I’m sure. What about the Culvers?” Valerie continued. “I don’t get the feeling they lean toward one side or the other.”

  “We’re all of the view that God handmade each human soul regardless of whether they wear blue or gray
.”

  “Hmm . . . ” Valerie realized that she belonged somewhere in the middle too. “Mr. Culver seems quite refined,” she observed absently.

  “And I’m not?” Benjamin acted insulted. “For your information, little lady, I’m just as refined as Clint.”

  “I suppose that’s debatable.” Valerie enjoyed ribbing him.

  “I beg your pardon?” A note of mock defense entered his voice.

  “Beg all you want, but I suspect you’re more country boy than you know.”

  “Listen here, Miss Refinement, you’ve got mud caked on your dress clear up to your knees.”

  Valerie peered around his overcoat at her poor skirts. “I do, don’t I?” She shared a laugh with both Benjamin and Adalia.

  “Mud or no mud, I’m proud of you for what y’ did today, dearie. And I’m equally as proud of you, Mr. McCabe, and y’ friends Mr. and Mrs. Culver. You did a fine thing for The Cause by taking photographs of those men today. Pleased as punch, they were, to get their pictures took.”

  Valerie voiced her agreement and then wondered how long Benjamin would stay in New Orleans. His search for Luke and his quest to photograph the war would surely take him away soon. The thought of his leaving saddened her. She felt safe whenever he was near—and she felt something else too.

  She only hoped she’d have a chance to fully discover what that something could be.

  Nine

  Night had fallen by the time they returned to the city. As they neared the house, Adalia insisted on being let off at the servants’ door since not a single light shone from any of the windows.

  “It looks so desolate,” Valerie remarked, thinking their home never appeared empty when Mama was alive. Even if they were gone for the day, Mama somehow made sure the home fires always burned brightly when they arrived home.

  “Oh, that Chastean,” the maid grumbled. “She should have lit the lamps. What will the neighbors say, our residence being all cold and dark this way?”

  Benjamin jumped down and helped Adalia from the wagon. “Can I be of some assistance?”

  “No, sir. There’s just some things a good housekeeper has to do herself. Give me a few minutes before you come in.”

  “Of course.”

  Valerie pressed her gloved hand over her lips to keep from smiling as Adalia muttered all the way to the side door.

  Benjamin climbed back up into the wagon. “Should we wait here?”

  Valerie pondered his question but decided against taking a houseguest through the servants’ entrance. “May I ride with you as far as the stables? Willie can see to your horses and wagon, and then you and I can use the garden entrance.”

  “I won’t argue that idea.”

  A light drizzle began to fall, growing steadier by the second. Benjamin steered his team around the brick house. As he pulled up to the stables, the huge, wooden door slid open and Willie stepped out. He held a lantern in his hand and lifted it high, illuminating the horses and wagon.

  “Miz Valerie! Missah McCabe! I been waitin’ on you.” Hanging his lamp on a nail, the loyal attendant rushed over to take the horses’ reins.

  Benjamin hopped down and helped Valerie from the wagon. She handed him his overcoat, deciding she didn’t need it anymore, as Willie led the team into the barn. She gathered her cloak more tightly around her neck just as a sudden, hard rain began to fall.

  Grabbing hold of her elbow, Benjamin propelled her toward the shelter of the overhang. Warm air emanated from the barn’s entrance, mixing the pungent odors of straw, wet animals, musty wood, and leather.

  “So, how soaked would you like to get?” Humor filled his voice. “We could make a run for it, or we could stay here for a few minutes and see if this downpour abates.”

  “This is New Orleans in January. It might be days before the rain abates.”

  “We’ll make a run for it, then?”

  Valerie nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  Benjamin put his overcoat around her again.

  “What about you?” she said. “You’ll be soaked to the skin.”

  “I won’t melt.” Wearing a grin, Benjamin held out his hand.

  She took it, feeling his fingers curl around hers protectively. And in that moment, Valerie imagined that this was how it felt to be loved and cherished.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Together they dashed through the yard, past the fruit trees, and one hundred feet beyond. They ran alongside Mama’s flowerbeds and favorite herb garden, and Valerie squealed when her foot landed in a rapidly growing puddle between two of the walk stones. Then they reached the solarium, pushing open the French doors and hurrying inside.

  “Oh, my goodness!” The sprint left Valerie breathless. “I believe those were the largest raindrops I’ve ever encountered.” She removed her bonnet and peeled off her wraps, shaking them off onto the tiled floor before slinging them over a wrought-iron plant rack. “Are you all right?”

  “No worse for wear.” Benjamin raked his hand through his wet blond hair before removing his frock. After giving it a good shake, he reached around Valerie and set it alongside the others.

  In that very moment, she realized his close proximity and how dwarfed she felt beneath the long shadow of his muscular frame. She could smell the wet linen of his shirt, the soaked wool of his gray waistcoat and trousers. She felt paralyzed, yet all she could do was stare up into his face. Its angles and planes were barely visible beneath the faraway glow of the gas street lamp.

  Suddenly Benjamin reached out and traced the side of her face with the back of his fingers, but he said not a word. The intense expression on his face, the look in his eyes, let Valerie know his intentions. Her heart beat hard in her chest.

  In one fluid move, he gathered her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. Unhurriedly, his lips moved across hers, and his embrace pressed her closer to his body. She responded to the passion building between them. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she kissed him with a fervor she’d never realized she possessed.

  He pulled away slightly. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” He whispered the words against her mouth.

  “I–I don’t know.” Did he really expect an intelligent reply? She couldn’t think straight at the moment.

  He kissed her once again. But then all too soon, he gently pushed her away. “Valerie, no more. We have to stop.”

  “But why?”

  With a soft chuckle, he allowed her to sag against him as he rested his jaw against her temple.

  “I know better, that’s why. I shouldn’t have taken such liberties, and I apologize.”

  “Please don’t. It wasn’t as if you stole a kiss. I freely gave it.” She peered up into his face. “And please don’t think badly of me, but I–I rather enjoyed it.”

  “Yes, I gathered as much.” He sounded amused. “Regardless, it’s not right.”

  Valerie laid her head against his shoulder. She watched the rain stream down the windows of the solarium. “I’ve had beaus before, but I never felt for them what I feel for you right now . . . and I’ve only known you two days.”

  Stepping back, Benjamin took both of her hands in his. He wore a soft expression as he reached one hand up and caressed her cheek. “But the truth of the matter is we both need to pray about this, about us. I made a mistake once before because I didn’t seek God’s wisdom and plan for my life. I’d hate for us to make the same mistake.”

  “It certainly didn’t feel like it was a mistake.”

  “No, it didn’t.” His voice sounded heavy. “But let’s give things between us a chance so we can find out for sure. Let’s follow the Lord and do this the right way, so we have His blessing. And so we’ll always know deep down that we made the right choice.”

  “You’re right, and I agree.”

  “Good, ’cause I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world.”

  Valerie lifted her gaze to his, thinking Benjamin McCabe had to be the most tender and sincere man she�
�d ever met. “That Gwyneth Merriweather is awfully dim-witted to let you escape.”

  His grin said he found the remark amusing. “Let’s see if you feel that way after some time passes.”

  Valerie wasn’t daunted by the challenge. But before she could say anything more, an acrid wisp of cigar smoke tickled her nostrils. A chill crept over her when she sensed another presence. Was it her father?

  She felt Benjamin tense, and he slowly released her. Then, looking toward the doorway, Valerie spied the shadowy figure of a man stepping into the solarium.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my dear Valerie and the transient photographer, having a tryst out here in the dark.”

  “James!” Insult coupled with humiliation heated her blood. “What—! Did you—?”

  “Oh, yes, Valerie honey.” He produced a wicked-sounding chuckle. “I heard you throw yourself at this man in the most shameful way.” Stuffing the cigar into his mouth, he gave it a puff, and the tobacco’s tip glowed fiery red. “But don’t worry . . . I won’t tell your father.”

  Valerie shook with anger. “How dare you enter my home uninvited. Get out!”

  “Not before I give this miscreant a piece of my mind.” He turned to Benjamin. “This photographer, as he refers to himself, rolls into town and takes advantage of my intended. I’ll not stand for it.”

  “I am not your intended, and the only miscreant in this room is you, James Ladden.” Valerie’s body shook with anger. “Now, leave here at once!”

  Benjamin set a placating hand on her shoulder. But it did little good to quell her anger.

  She lifted her chin. “You’re just jealous, James, because I didn’t welcome your advances.”

  James lunged at her so suddenly that Benjamin barely had time to shove Valerie behind him. “Don’t you dare raise a hand to her, Ladden!” A razor-sharp warning edged his tone.

  James slowly lowered his arm. “I’ll not stand for such insults!” His voice increased in decibels with each word.

  Holding on to Benjamin’s sleeve, Valerie trembled in a rage tinged with fear.

  “Listen, Ladden, you’re the one who snuck in here. I suggest you leave immediately.”

  “You suggest?” James let out a curse such as Valerie had never heard before. Her ears burned and her face flamed.