The Will of Time Page 10

  "Brant Douglas?" the soldier asked, not dismounting.

  "Yes."

  "I'm here with your orders. You are to report tomorrow by noon. You may join your regiment just north of here by three miles."

  "Are we to march north, then?"

  "Can't say, sir. Just had orders to give you that message, direct from General Doubleday," the man said, throwing Brant a cocky salute. He turned his horse and blended into the trees.

  Brant remained still, mentally digesting the not unexpected orders. He knew he had been fortunate to obtain leave at all. Still, life was comfortable here, hidden away from reality in Walnut Grove. Brant walked toward the garden, to think by the fountain. He knew, even if it was hard to admit, that the real reason he was happy here was because of Leah.

  Settling on the bench, he considered the possibility that he might never return to this house. If he survived the next few battles and the war ended, he'd need to travel north to his family's farm. Though a few free servants had been kept on there after his parents' death, and his brother Cameron was now in charge of the estate, there was no certainty about the condition of the property. The war could have claimed it by now, Brant knew. There was another fact he had to face: Margaret would be there, now mistress of the house. His stomach tightened.

  The cherub atop the fountain seemed to be crying, displaying its own misery. Brant envied the little angel that could release its emotions. He himself could not cry, hadn't for a long time, but he sure had released his emotions in front of Leah the other night. More than released, he'd exploded with anger. Leah had no way of knowing that his stored-up feelings weren't all directed toward her, and Brant hoped he hadn't completely destroyed their friendship. She was good company, for a woman, and though he had no need of marrying now that BlueBell Ridge belonged to Cameron, he'd still like to maintain his fragile relationship with the young widow. And just who was he fooling? He desired her-- her beauty that was fragile and yet unbreakable. She was hiding so much from him, even her true identity, but he'd trade that knowledge for a chance to be with her.

  Approaching voices snapped Brant out of his self-pity. The women were not yet visible, still on the path leading to the garden. Brant listened but heard mainly a one-sided conversation.

  "Where will you go once the war's over, Leah?" MaryKatherine was chatting to her cousin, her voice upbeat but soft. Brant thought MaryKatherine always sounded as if she were speaking to small children.

  "Oh, I don't know. Someday I hope to get home again."

  "Of course you do! I'm certain Baltimore will be much more pleasant by then, don't you? There won't be as many unattached gentlemen, though. I wonder if you and I will ever find husbands."

  Leia hoped the girl didn't expect an answer to that. Although MaryKatherine was attractive in a Sally Field sort of way, Leia knew from her history lessons how many eligible men were dying even as they spoke.

  "Leah, do you want to have children some day?" MaryKatherine whispered this indelicate question.

  "If I met the right man to father them, I think so. Maybe one or two."

  "Oh, I want scads and scads of them. I want them running all through the house, the one I'll help my husband build. He'll be strong, a leader, and love to play with his children. But most of all he'll love me."

  Brant had overheard the conversation, and could imagine MaryKatherine's gray eyes lighting up with the thought of small children. Leah, he could not be sure about. He wondered for a second why she and Jonathan had not had a baby in their three years together.

  The feminine talk ended abruptly when the girls rounded the bend in the path and they stood directly in front of Brant.

  He stood in greeting.

  "Good evening, Brant," MaryKatherine said and cast her eyes down.

  "Good evening, ladies," he said, amused that MaryKatherine appeared embarrassed. "You two shall be the first to know...I leave tomorrow to rejoin the troops."

  "Goodness! Is that who the visitor was?" MaryKatherine looked startled and put a dainty hand to her forehead. Everything she did reminded Leia of Melanie from Gone With The Wind..

  "I'm afraid so. Would you like to sit?"

  "No, thank you. I'm going back up to the house to tell Aunt Martha the bad news. Perhaps Hettie will prepare a special breakfast before you go?" She hurried off, lifting her skirts two inches in order to go quickly.

  Brant turned to face Leah, glimpsing the cherub's head behind her.

  "I hope you go safely," she said, and turned as if to follow MaryKatherine.

  "Wait. Please." He stepped forward to take her arm and spun her around. "I want to apologize for breaking your bottles. I lost control of my temper. It was not all about you, and I feel very bad about that. I wasn't really offering you anything, so I shouldn't have been angered when you didn't agree without hesitation."

  "I accept your apology," she said, slowly circling the fountain, almost pacing.

  Brant followed. The last strains of light were filtering around the garden, and he noticed that her hair shimmered like the flow from the fountain.

  "After all, it was only glass. Replaceable, unlike people. Unlike you. Now Brant, tell me something about yourself before you leave," she said, leaning close to his face.

  "Such as what? My brother Torin is already back with the troops, fighting Rebs and helping abolish slavery. And here I am...comfortable and safe in your company...living off of the hospitality of the McGarland family." He relaxed, seeing she didn't seem angry with him.

  Leia nodded. "I understand that you feel that way. But give me something really personal to remember about you, Brant."

  "Well, I can tell you that I'm not confident that I'll be returning this time," he said. "Please come here, Leah." He patted the bench seat beside him.

  "So, you leave tomorrow, hmm?" she asked as she settled beside him.

  "It can not be delayed any longer," he told her. "We all have a duty."

  "I know. And Brant, I wanted to make sure I told you how much I've enjoyed your company these past few days. You've made an ordeal easier for me, Brant, both you and this place. At least, most of the time."

  He lifted her hand from her lap, turning it over and again caressing the wedding ring finger.

  "I wish you'd been visiting under better circumstances. I know how hurtful it is to lose someone you care for." He 'd fought to keep his painful memories hidden from the world...yet this somberly dressed woman with shining hair could call forth these feelings from him in an instant. Perhaps if they met again someday, he'd learn the secrets of her name.

  "Let's not start that again," she replied. "We don't have much time left, so let's talk about something pleasant."

  Brant saw a genuine smile turn up the corners of her mouth. "Fine. Am I forgiven for my temporary lapse of self-discipline and grace?"

  She nodded. "Sure. Just don't let it happen again." She winked at him, one eye closing for the briefest moment. It fascinated him, as it did when she teased him. "And, when and if you come across any pretty glass pieces in Pennsylvania, you must think of me."

  "I am in complete agreement, Leah Graham." He wasn't certain, but thought he saw her wince at that name. Considering the strange name card he'd found with an exceptional likeness of Leia on it, he thought that was appropriate.

  "Brant, one more try. Tell me about your family," Leia asked, hoping for a clue to the man's reserved personality. His stoic bearing was a facade, she was sure. She had glimpsed the caring man on the inside.

  "'There is not a great deal to tell, Leah. My parents are deceased now. They owned a large farming property called BlueBell Ridge in Pennsylvania. I was raised there. We had a dozen or so free servants to help with the work. The four of us children were also expected to do our part."

  "You had three brothers? You've only mentioned one, Torin."

  "Yes, there were two others." His face was grim.

  "Were? Are they dead?" She whispered this last question, as if in respect for them.

  "One
was killed in a mining accident. The other may as well be dead." His voice was even, steady, stoic. He turned to face her, revealing nothing more by his expression.

  "I'm sorry. Tell me about Blue Bell Ridge. What does the house look like?" She saw his jaw clench, but continued. "That's where you grew up, right?"

  "It is."

  "Not any happy memories?" Leia reached for his hand, squeezing the long fingers gently.

  He relaxed, breaking into a narrow smile. "Many of them. My parents were constantly doing things for us. It couldn't have been easy with four boys. Of course, as we grew older we helped with the work."

  "We had a part-time housekeeper, Grandfather and I. We made dinner together quite often. If it hadn't been for Mary Beth, I would never have learned how to boil water."

  "There wasn't time for us to help with food preparation. If we were not doing chores outside, we were helping each other so we could make time later for fun. That was, after our lessons were done and Mother had checked them."

  "I always wanted brothers and sisters to play with. Sara lived nearby, and Jason's family, but it wasn't the same as having built-in playmates."

  "Don't be so sure," he said, a smile twitching at his lips. "There were just as many bad times as good. We fought quite often. Too many males in one household."

  "Male egos got in the way?"

  He looked at her blankly, then grinned. "If that refers to pride, then the answer's yes. I remember one time, Torin wasn't allowed to go swimming in the pond with me and Cameron. Later that evening, our father sent us to the barn to check the latches. Torin started to taunt me about being a wet lady, or some such chatter."

  "Go on. I'm sure there's more," Leia said, smiling as she pictured the young boys.

  "Have you noticed I get a bit less, graceful, when I'm angry?"

  "Noticed? Are you kidding? There are still bits of glass in the cracks of the parlor floor." She tried to keep her voice light and teasing, so he'd continue this childhood snapshot.

  "That night in the barn, my flailing arms knocked a lantern over and started a small fire."

  "In a barn? Did it stay small? Were you hurt?"

  "Torin and I reacted quickly, not so much from fear of the flames as fear of our father. We beat it out with our coats."

  "Did your parents find out?"

  "Only when they noticed the condition of our coats a few hours later. We didn't sit down for a week."

  Leia moved closer to him and embraced him with a brief, but tight, hug.

  "What was that for?"

  "For being human. For having one flaw in that otherwise god-like persona."

  Brant couldn't resist a smile as he raised a dark eyebrow.

  "After all, if you were too perfect, I'd know for sure that I couldn't keep you."

  "It's very big," he said, taking both of her hands in his.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The house at Blue Bell. Five rooms. Wood floors and walls. Flat roof. Several real glass windows, too. I slept with Torin. Cameron and Cory slept in another room. Three of our paid servants slept in the smaller room next to mine. If they heard any noise from us, they had full authority to discipline us."

  "I like your parents," she said.

  "I wish you'd been able to meet them. I never expected to lose them so soon."

  She pulled one of his hands over her heart. "We never do. Brant, do you believe there's life after our death?"

  He looked over her head, obviously pondering that question, the back of his hand absently stroking her breast where she still held it captive.

  "Sometimes. Nothing for certain. I want to believe in Heaven. Do you?"

  "No specific beliefs here, either. But I was raised to believe in God, and Heaven and Hell." Not parallel worlds.

  "And?"

  She now looked over his shoulder. "Now, I believe in a lot more than I used to." He nodded and they sat, side by side, in silence for several minutes. Hands still clasped, Leia relaxed and tried to enjoy the last peaceful time they'd have in the foreseeable future.

  "And you, Leah? What of your siblings?"

  She scurried through her halls of short-term memory, searching the banks for something to say. Not wanting to be caught in a lie, she shook her head and remained silent. Although she had shared many intimate feelings with this man, she was still completely misleading him as to who she really was.

  "Come along, Leah, don't be secretive."

  "I am not being secretive."

  "Then why is it that I know nothing about you save that your parents and husband have passed on?" His increasingly suspicious tone of voice grated on Leia's nerves. She wondered if war always lent a mistrusting nature to men.

  "There's nothing more to tell! And if you want to talk about being secretive, let's discuss whatever it was you so carefully buried in the cellar the other night." She spoke each word carefully, hoping her words sounded as scathing as his had sounded.

  "What are you accusing me of doing?" His voice vibrated with tension, a sign she had achieved the effect she had strived for.

  "Just of not being completely honest with me, but yet, expecting complete honesty from me." She stood and walked around the little garden, a small circle on flagstones, then toward the path that led back to the front of the house.

  "Don't leave, please. Leah...I may not be back. Let's not part with words of anger."

  She stopped, turning to look at him. He was staring back at her, the muscles of his face tight and sculpted. He held up one of his large hands, both an invitation and a peace offering.

  "Oh Brant, why are you so damned charming?"

  His eyes widened at her choice of words, but she didn't care. She joined him on the bench again, smoothing her skirts as she sat. "I don't know how I could let myself be so manipulated by a man! Though, I have to admit, a good-looking one," she added, intending to pay him another compliment.

  "Manipulated? You? Oh, I beg to differ with you, Mrs. Graham. Or whatever your name is.. I happen to be aware that you are not the grieving widow you'd like us to believe."

  Leia's eyes were now the ones to widen, and she looked at him with alarm. Her stomach tightened, blood pumping into her face and neck.

  "What do you mean?" She tried to speak with a casual air, but her voice came out scratchy and scared.

  "So, is your real name Leia McGarland? Are you related, or did you marry into the family?"

  His words bit into Leia's ears, which were roaring already with the pounding of her fear-ridden blood flow. Pandora's box had flown open.

  "What kind of spy are you anyway? Who manufactured the material your identification card is encased with? Was it made in Washington? Have you given out information about my activities to the other side? Did you pick up any tips from Daniel? Tell me the truth."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, pulling her hand away from his arresting grasp. She had lifted the hem of her gown to flee the garden inquisition.

  "Leah, come back here!"

  She ignored his demand, breaking into the best run she could manage in Civil-War-Wear. Her knees were scratched by the crinoline of her hoop. The differences in their apparel gave Brant the edge, and he caught up to her in the thick tree cover in front of the house. Her grabbed her apron strings, pulling just enough to wreck her balance.

  "Why are you running from me?"

  She was breathing heavily, but Brant was in complete control. She cursed the corset that constricted her breathing capacity. As afraid as she was at the moment, she noticed the absence of anger from his voice. He stopped her with a swooping grab that toppled her into the grass. The lawn was damp and sweet-smelling under Leia's nose.

  She felt his arms lifting her, wrapping around her from behind. He pulled her directly back against his chest and secured his arms under her ribs. She kicked at his shins.

  "Please, be still. I won't hurt you," he said. "Leah, or whoever you are, please trust me. There's something special between us. Trust me. You know you can. I d
on't believe you'd betray me. I just want to know the truth."

  She stopped squirming and stood still. Brant took one hand and smoothed the hair from her forehead. She assumed it had been tickling his face as he held her captive. With his hand on her shoulder, he waited. She remained quiet.

  "That's good, calm. Breathe deeply, Leah. I don't want you to faint under the strain of a tight corset. Take a slow, deep breath," he instructed, his voice barely a whisper. The chirps of crickets had begun in the trees around them. "I can hear your heart pounding with fear. Are you afraid?" The hand that wasn't holding her in place moved. He laid it on her left breast, over her heart. "I can feel it."

  "Brant..."

  "Hush, Leah. I won't hurt you." His right hand tightened around her torso, his knees pushed firmly into the back of her knees. He molded his fingers around her breast, as if he were actually searching for her heart.

  She felt his lips touch the back of her neck, which she knew was damp with perspiration. Leia couldn't move. She was frozen with fear and desire. His hand pulled back and she felt him undoing buttons on the back of her dress. Three tiny buttons, undone; the fourth ripped gently from its fabric. He paused, she presumed, to see if she would protest.

  She couldn't. Her heart was still racing. This man could ruin her life while she was trapped here, but she had never wanted anything more than for him to reach inside her dress. He did, struggling underneath the chemise and pushing aside the bodice. His calloused fingers finally found the soft skin of her breast.

  She felt the touch of his skin on hers and gasped at the sensation. Warmth began to build inside her, her nipples grew taut and strained to be free. His lips had found her neck again, keeping busy while his hands pushed down her dress and chemise. She released the improperly tied corset herself, squirming in the process. Behind her, she felt how aroused Brant had grown.