The Will of Time Read online

  Unaware of how many hours had passed, Leia rode on, speaking softly from time to time to Patsy. Once, to her left and not too far in the distance, a howling noise startled her. She kept riding. Later, on the right, buried deep in the trees, a growling rumbled through the night. Putting mental blinders on, Leia kept Patsy moving. Once the cannons began to ring out, the task proved more difficult.

  Chapter 9

  Brant poked a stick around, spreading the last of the embers to put out the cooking fire. Careful not to waste precious water, he doused the light that threatened to signal the camp's location to enemy eyes. The unit had been extremely fortunate to take down a deer for their dinner. Most nights would have found them dining on salted pork and hard-tack biscuits, but tonight, it had been fresh, barbecued venison. He remembered that aroma from his childhood, when his mother had helped Bessie in the kitchen and the results had made his mouth water.

  The hunting and subsequent cooking project had taken much longer than General Diamond had expected. Brant had watched his commander's face grow tense as he urged the men to clean up and prepare for sleep. Coming across the deer had caused them to make camp earlier than Diamond wanted, so he urged them to sleep so a very early, pre-dawn start could be made.

  With so much on his mind, Brant knew sleep would elude him. He had volunteered for the first watch shift, found a semi-comfortable position and laid a carbine rifle-musket across his knees. In the past twenty-four hours, he had been humiliated in front of friends, married to a woman he barely knew, and then spent a wonderful night of passion with her. He had been made a beneficiary to a dear friend's will, and just now enjoyed the most unexpected hot meal. He should be very, very tired, but he wasn't. He felt anxious, as if his heart would throb to a point as to eventually burst forth from his chest.

  The will. The will had bothered Brant, more than he wanted to admit. In fact, he would ask Patrick to explain that one section, since Leah was now his wife. A noise grabbed his attention and he jumped to his feet, rifle ready.

  "Who's there?" he asked. A twig-breaking in the middle of a country night could mean anything from a small critter to an enemy soldier.

  No one answered, so Brant pointed the barrel of his rifle toward the trees where the sound seemed to have come from. Brant felt he was being watched.. sensed that it was no mere possum or groundhog that was roaming nearby.

  "Brant, is that you?" A feminine voice called out to him, as yet unseen.

  Brant leaped forward, letting his rifle point toward the ground. His heart pounded.

  "Leah! Where are you?"

  She emerged from the thickest trees, on foot, leading her mare.

  "What are you doing here?" he demanded, taking her in his arms at the same time.

  "Please don't be mad. I had to warn you," she said, talking too quickly.

  He led her to his guard station, then let his arms go fully around her. He brushed his lips to hers as he bent his head down, then unsatisfied, crushed her lips with his own. He knew he was being too rough, slamming into her soft lips and tongue, but he could not stop, did not want to stop. The kiss pounded on for minutes. He did not want to relinquish her mouth, he wanted to punish her for so foolishly following him. At last, his self-discipline allowed him to break loose. He stepped back.

  "Sit," he said, waiting for his rising temperature to settle back to normal. He joined her on the ground and arranged his weapon.

  "Now, why are you here? I should turn you over my knee, you know, for risking your life this way."

  Her eyes widened, but she leaned toward him, a determined look on her face.

  "Brant, two Rebs showed up at the house today looking for their runaway slaves...looking for you! They think you helped their slaves escape." She finished telling the story, leaving out any details of her own, personal fear.

  Brant questioned her about who had been home, who had seen the men, and if they had left peacefully. He was satisfied that they had not harmed her, and she concluded her story by relating the ride to find him.

  "I don't think I was in any more danger this afternoon than this evening. I couldn't let them take you by surprise, Brant."

  "I do appreciate your concern, but I'm here with an entire cavalry unit. And yet you still worried about me."

  "I think that's because I realized something after they left." She stood up and turned away from him.

  He wondered if she was embarrassed. She should be. "And what is that?" He shifted his weight so his legs wouldn't stiffen during his watch. "What is so important that you risked rape and murder to follow me out here?"

  "I love you," she said, so softly he wasn't sure he heard correctly. "I love you. I know what you've accomplished with the door. I wanted you before, cared for you when I saw you with that child, and now... I know what a caring man you are, Brant Douglas. I know I want to be with you." Her voice had risen by the end of her sentence, and she was looking at him, waiting for a reply.

  What did she expect? he wondered. That he would swear his eternal love for her? He recalled the will he had read earlier and his temper flared. Her unexpected declaration sparked a realization in his own mind. The will that explained why Leah needed a husband, oh yes, he recalled those words.

  "You love me? You love me because I'm so kind-hearted, is that it? Because I help others, even illegally? My wife travels out here alone at night, possibly revealing our camp location to anyone who might be watching, because she loves me? You've put the lives of all of these men in jeopardy, Mrs. Douglas." Now his voice was rising, and he stood facing her, still clutching his rifle.

  "Brant, please, I didn't mean to make you angry." She stepped back, looking properly alarmed.

  "But that's all part of the plan, isn't it?" The pieces suddenly came together in Brant's mind, making him spit out with the anger he could usually suppress. He made certain his rifle was out of arm's reach, to ensure no accidents were caused by his growing temper.

  "What plan? What do you mean?" She stepped back again, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  "Patrick added me to his will today since I married his niece."

  "He did?" She sounded surprised.

  "Yes, so you and I could have a small start on life after the war. But you don't need his small token gifts, do you?"

  "Brant, what on Earth are you talking about?"

  "The fact that I just married you. The fact that you're from the future, and you're single there. And that you're almost twenty-five years old."

  "So?"

  "So? So, Mrs. Douglas, I'm sure you are aware of the McGarland family tradition that in order to inherit the family home, one must be married by that twenty-five year mark. Was it not so convenient and well-timed for you to find a husband just now?"

  "What?" Her hand went to her throat, and to her credit, she did look taken aback. "Are you telling me that Patrick has the same terms in his will that my grandfather used?"

  "Are you saying you didn't know? Is it true you need a husband in the future?"

  "That's exactly what I'm saying, and the same thing I told you last night. I thought he did that to protect me...because I was incapable, or a woman, or something."

  Brant stood still, watching her face and considering her reaction. Her words made sense. "Go on."

  "Brant, it's true. I was devastated when the attorney told me. Here I was, completely happy being independent...supporting myself. It's different in the future, women take care of themselves. Sometimes they take care of whole families, too. And that's how I was.. am. And then, Grandfather died, and I found out I was going to lose my home on top of everything else. How do you think that made me feel?" She dropped her arms and began pacing a few yards, back and forth.

  "Is everything alright, Lieutenant?" Another man had come up behind them. Brant kicked himself for being caught off-guard once again.

  "Fine, Corporal. Do we have a tent for my wife?"

  "No thanks, Brant. I'm outta here," she said. "I can't deal with you when you're so suspicio
us of me. I believed you the other night, when you said you trusted me...even if I had secrets. Now you're the only one with secrets. I'm leaving." She walked toward Patsy.

  "Dismissed, Corporal," Brant excused the man. When they were alone again, Brant turned back to Leia.

  "What secrets do you mean?" He grabbed her shoulders, but she shook free.

  "Please stop playing this game, Brant. I've figured it out. I think you should help me find the correct portal back to the future. And I found the passage way to the cellar from Martha's room. What a great idea. I never knew it was there. Please help me find the portal home...doorway, that is...and come with me. You don't need to be caught helping slaves escape. It's still against the law." She sighed, and he saw she looked exhausted. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, but you must try to come with me to the future...before those slave owners find you. And, I need your help to find the door."

  "You need my help? I should desert my post and follow you? Are you mad? What do you really want from me?" He fought to control his rage. She was deliberately trying to distract him, perhaps threaten him with what she knew. Women always wanted something. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She needed a husband to arrive with her in her future home, before her birthday. What an actress his new wife was! Just like Margaret had been, when she swore her love for him.

  "Go home, Leah. Take Patsy and go back the way you came. You shouldn't encounter anyone before dawn." He shook his head, ignoring her open-mouthed stare. He assisted her to mount.

  She paused only for a moment as her shoulders rounded suddenly, then let him plop her on the mare's back with quiet resignation. Without looking at him again, she started back into the trees.

  "Douglas, your shift was over hours ago. Why don't you get some sleep?" General Diamond loomed over Brant, more fatherly than military in loose trousers and open shirt.

  "Sir, I don't think I could sleep right now if you held a conbine to my head," Brant said from the ground. He carefully laid aside his weapon, which had served as his security all evening. If he was busy protecting the camp, he couldn't worry about Leah... As much.

  "What's the problem, Douglas? You can talk to me about anything," Diamond said, sitting on the ground beside his soldier.

  "Well sir, there was some disturbance earlier...came from the woods over there," Brant began, pointing to where Leah had first appeared.

  "And that was..." Diamond prompted.

  "My wife."

  The General turned toward Brant with a quick head spin. "Wife? When did you get married and why wasn't I invited?"

  "General, it only took place last night."

  "Is this young woman carrying your child, Douglas?"

  "No, sir. It wasn't like that. But we did marry quickly because I compromised her, at least in her family's eyes. She's Patrick McGarland's niece. I really just met her. But sir, she's not like any woman I've ever known. She's a tiny, delicate woman who at the same time is hearty and independent. She hasn't told me the whole truth about herself yet, but she seems to be very honest about her feelings. Would you believe she followed me here to tell me she loves me?"

  "I see you are quite taken with her, Douglas. Did you not want to marry her?"

  "I didn't want to marry anyone. I have nothing to offer a wife. And you know what we're facing here, Sir. The odds. And if I do live through this, I have to start fresh without property. Land's going to be the only thing of value, after all of this destruction, and what woman would be happy without land?" Brant avoided his superior's face, but continued to stare out into the trees. He hoped he hadn't sounded too bitter.

  Diamond stared forward also, presumably to not further embarrass his friend. "So that's how it is. I'm sure you didn't risk leaving her with a child, then, did you? How honorable." He didn't wait for Brant to respond. "Douglas, I haven't heard you say this much about one subject, especially a personal one, in years. If it's security that worries you, you know you'll always have a position with the army."

  Brant nodded, silently adding that the position of course was dependent on the Union's victory. He rubbed his eyes, feeling he deserved the burning it induced.

  "Does she really love you?"

  "As I said, she claims to."

  "Do you love this woman?"

  "I don't know."

  "Do you still love Margaret?"

  "No," Brant snapped, irritated at the General's interrogation. "Forgive me, Sir. But I was over her soon after I discovered how petty she was. She's my brother's problem now."

  "What's my problem?" Torin asked, having walked up behind them.

  "Not you. Cameron."

  "Oh, we're talking about Margaret?" Torin settled himself on the ground. "Brant, did you know you're going to be an uncle next year?"

  "Thank you, Torin. I have been trying to buoy your brother's spirits," Diamond said, reprimanding his younger soldier in a teasing tone. "What we need, I suppose, is a game of baseball. Ah, well, another time."

  "I'll take the watch, Sir, so you two can sleep."

  Brant and the General rose, gathering their weapons and stretching their legs. Before Diamond slipped into his tent, Brant stopped him, needing to confess.

  "What is it, Douglas?"

  "I sent her home, alone."

  "You what?"

  "My wife. After she came here, we argued, and I told her to go back to the McGarland house." Brant looked around, helpless, as the sun was already starting to rise. He had had a mule as a child that had been less stubborn than he knew himself to be. "Permission to follow her, sir?"

  Diamond put his hand on Brant's shoulder. "You let your anger get the best of you, man. I am sorry. And yes, you shouldn't waste another moment..." His words were cut off by the booming thunder of a cannon, not far in the distance.

  Gunfire came next, closer, rifle shots whizzing past their heads.

  "On the ground! Douglas, Preston, Hazard, front flank," General Diamond shouted out the orders. There would be no more sleep this night...and Leia was on her own.

  Tears streamed down Leia's face, nearly obliterating her vision in the darkness. Patsy seemed to know the way, for which she was grateful. The horse even seemed to sense how Leia had been wrongly accused and hurt. How could he say those things to her? She had come out here, rode half of the night, to tell him she loved him. What a fool she had been! She had been trying to save his hide! He was the abolitionist, not her. ...And he had thrown everything she had said back into her face. There was no trust between them. He threw back her love, her trust, her admiration and her concern. Reaching for a piece of petticoat to blow her nose, the noises of her emotions spilled out into the silent countryside.

  It seemed to Leia that the trip home took much longer than the trip out had, probably because she'd lost that glorious anticipation of seeing the man she loved for the return trip, that feeling of tingly excitement that urged a person in love to hurry, the feeling that if you don't tell them at once it will be too late, was replaced with reverberations of fighting behind her.

  It had been too late for Leia, though. Her stomach contracted with a sinking feeling of despair and disappointment. Her emotions seemed to push down from her stomach straight through her toes, leaving nothing to hold in the great sobs and shudders. She had felt it when her parents died, though it was at a six year old level. When Grandfather had died, she had felt this way again, like all was lost and life was without hope. Tears had been shed for his memory, for the fact she'd never see him again and for the regret of things she should have done differently.

  Leia didn't know what she should have done differently where Brant was concerned. The choices she'd made since her arrival had seemed the best for her survival in this unfamiliar time period. If Patrick had been the one to start the inheritance tradition, Brant would just have to believe her that she'd not tried to trap him into marriage for that reason. Hell, she could have married Jason Maxwell if that was her only goal, but then, she'd never have met the sandy haired soldier that
had so tenderly loved her on their wedding night. Even if he hated her now, which she really doubted, she'd always have the memory of that beautiful night together. Perhaps she had hurt his pride. Stroking Patsy, she sighed.

  Pink streaks of light were appearing by the time she arrived home. She was empty from her stomach to her throat, raw from crying. It was unlike her to give in to total feelings of hopelessness, but the feeling was all encompassing.

  "Pink sky at morning, sailor take warning," she muttered, leading Patsy to her stall. The smell of bad weather hung in the air, that smell of fat worms lolling around on the ground like stranded travelers. The smell sickened Leia, far worse than the odor from the stable, for it was hinting of impending decay. She rubbed down Patsy, speaking softly to her, made sure the animal was comfortable as best she knew how.

  With another sigh that signaled the end of the tears, Leia approached the back porch. Her exhaustion was catching up to her, just as the adrenalin rush had worn off after her rejection. The morning sky had grown more intensely mauve-colored, and she looked into the angry sunrise and kicked off her leather shoes.

  Her thoughts were of strong coffee as she pulled open the door, only to let it bang closed again at the sound of footsteps behind her. Heavy, male footsteps brought on some fresh adrenalin and made her whirl around. Too tired for panic, though, she faced the trespassers with calm.

  "What do you want? Did you follow me?"

  "You know, missy, we want our slaves returned to us," the tall one said, "without delay."

  "And you know, sir, that I have no idea where your slaves are."

  "We followed you from your slave-stealing lover's arms, missy. And we've been mighty patient. Now," the short one said, "Do we have to force the truth from you?"

  The other man grabbed her upper arm and pulled her from the porch steps onto the grass. His touch was rough and Leia cried out in pain.

  "Let me go!" She pulled her arm free with such a quick jerk she heard the fabric rip from her shoulder. "Hey!" Anger kicked in to overtake the fear. She knew she had to keep it subdued, so she forced a deep breath into her lungs. The men now stood to her sides, each claiming an arm as captive. Through the now ragged material of her sleeves, she felt rough hands bruising her skin.