The Will of Time Read online

  "Douglas," he said. "My buddies just paid you all a visit, didn't they?"

  MaryKatherine looked blankly at Leia, who refused to meet her eyes.

  "That's an ugly rumor," Leia said, glancing at Patrick who had moved and groaned. She felt some of the fear turn to relief that he was conscious. He should live. She knew Hettie and Martha had gone to the Bauer's earlier, so Brant was the only one inside. So perhaps she should send this jerk to the cellar and hope for time travel.

  "Either you tell me what I want to know, or missy here gets a hole in her pretty head."

  "Alright! Let her go! Then go check out our wine cellar. First door on the right, then it's the door on your right in the dining room." She prayed silently that she'd be lucky with this ploy a second time. From the corner of her eye she saw MaryKatherine's shocked expression.

  The man threw his hostage into the wood railing and charged past Leia into the house.

  "Are you okay?" Leia asked, helping MaryKatherine to her feet. When the girl nodded, still breathless, she turned back to Patrick.

  His eyes were partially open, fluttering, and he was trying to sit up. Dazed, he looked at Leia in confusion. "What happened?" he stammered, holding his head with one hand and propping his body up with the other.

  Leia checked him for injuries, but any problems, she concluded, must be internal. She worried about the man's heart.

  "MaryKatherine," she asked, "Can you stay with him?"

  When she had the two of them huddled together, Leia slid back inside the house. It was quiet, too quiet, as Leia stuck her head into the dining room. The cellar door was closed.

  Assuming the best, Leia went back to the hall and plopped on the stairs. She allowed herself to relax just a little, mentally comparing this incident with the last one. With any luck, this Reb would find himself a portal to some other time. He deserved to be punished, in whatever time frame. How could anyone hurt a gentle old man like Patrick? These southern men should take lessons from their own proclaimed 'gentility.'

  A door's slam to her left made Leia grab the banister in fear. She snapped to attention, her spine an electric rod. Fresh adrenalin coursed through her veins, and panic sank another anchor into her stomach. The Reb appeared in the hallway.

  "Nothin' down there, Yankee. As you surely know," he growled, striding toward her. "I'll get you to talk," he said, grabbing her by hair and wrist.

  Before Leia could react, he had her captive, pushed her back flat against the wall. Despite his small stature, the man was wiry and Leia couldn't break free. She fought to hold back tears, feeling the wells puddling behind her eyes. Why hadn't he found the door? She prayed, fear throwing her back to her religious upbringing.

  "Where is my slave?" he asked again, knocking her head into the wallboard.

  Leia got a fuzzy idea of what it meant to see stars, as a cartoon character with stars circling his head filled her mind. She felt the cold metal of his pistol tap her breastbone, and having never been so threatened in her entire life, she closed her eyes and tried to hold her bladder in control.

  A rifle clicked, from above them, grabbing the Reb's attention. Leia turned to see Brant at the top of the stairs, rifle aimed at the other man's head, or heart. His aim was not steady. He wore only his trousers, and she watched the large muscles of his chest pulse under the strain of being out of bed. He looks heroic, she thought, like the cover of a romance novel.

  "Move away from her," Brant commanded, letting himself lean against the banister post. He appeared relaxed and confident, but Leia knew beneath the swaggering facade he was in serious pain.

  To her surprise, the man did as he was told. He backed away, releasing Leia, and let the pistol hang at his side. She rubbed her throbbing head, thankful the stars had gone away.

  "Now, put down the gun," Brant continued, his calm voice not wavering.

  Again, the Reb obeyed.

  Brant's arm remained fairly steady on the intruder, and Leia realized his controlling arm was the one attached to the healing shoulder. Her admiration for him increased even more if that was possible.

  "Put your hands on your head, turn around slowly, and get out. If you ever show your ugly Rebel face here again, by God, I will kill you. You are the enemy, and this is war. If you ever, ever, touch my wife again, I'll do worse than kill you. You will suffer."

  Leia sighed in relief as the man followed Brant's orders. As soon as his intimidated butt was out the door, she charged up the stairs.

  "Brant, my God, are you okay? Let me see your leg."

  "I'm fine. Just help me back to bed, please," he asked, leaning on her.

  Leia walked him back to the guest room, supporting his weight the best she could with her shoulders. She saw his trouser leg had turned brownish-red.

  "You've reopened your wound," she said, settling him on the bed and removing his pants.

  "It will be fine," he told her, leaning his head back onto the wall.

  A knock on the door sounded as MaryKatherine burst through it. "Is everyone safe?"

  "I'm fine, but Brant's bleeding again. Can you help me?"

  MaryKatherine started to work, pressing a fresh strip of cloth to Brant's leg. It didn't seem to bother her that he had no trousers on. She would have made a great nurse.

  "Is Patrick okay?" Leia asked.

  "Yes, he'll just have a throbbing head for a few days, I think."

  "Me too," Leia said, rubbing her neck. She looked at Brant, who had closed his eyes.

  "Leah, why did you send that man to our cellar?"

  Leia saw Brant's expression harden, then relax into a half-smile. Ah, she thought, he's going to enjoy my discomfort.

  "Yes, Leah," he said, opening his eyes. "Why did you send that man to the cellar?"

  Both of them looked at her, waiting for an answer. As if he didn't know, she thought. How wicked of him. She picked up a bottle of brandy from the nightstand, pulled the cloth from Brant's leg and callously poured on the antiseptic.

  As she had expected, he changed the subject.

  Chapter 12

  "Leah, do they really believe we are hiding escaped slaves here?" MaryKatherine was drying a china plate, as opaque as her expression.

  "I don't know," Leia lied. How much could she confide in MaryKatherine? She was helping her clean up from the small dinner they had shared. Patrick was tucked in bed, as was Brant.

  "It's such a tragic part of war, don't you agree, Leah? That just when folks need their men at home for protection, they're off at war, or nearly crippled from the fighting they've already seen. I suppose we're really very fortunate that Brant was even here today." MaryKatherine had moved on to wiping the wood counters.

  Leia was taken aback. MaryKatherine hadn't spoken with such wisdom the entire time Leia had been here. How on Earth could she know what was going on in Leia's subconscious?

  "Why do you say that, MaryKatherine?" Leia rinsed her cotton rag in tepid water.

  "Just an observation," she replied, pausing to smile at her cousin. "Brant's a good man, Leah."

  Leia nodded and wiped her hands on a towel, finishing as Hettie came through the back door. Martha followed, bursting with some news she wanted to share.

  "MaryKatherine, Leah, I have an invitation. It seems the Bauers' grandson, Charles, has stopped by on leave from his unit. So, despite the fighting, the Bauers are giving a small dinner party on Friday. MaryKatherine, you are especially invited. Charles can't wait to meet you. Leah, you must come and introduce your new husband, the war hero."

  Leia rolled her eyes, her head turned away from Martha's enthusiasm. She saw MaryKatherine torn between flushed mortification and repressed excitement. With a wink to her cousin, she turned back to Martha.

  "Thank you, Aunt Martha. But I don't think Brant will be up to visiting so soon."

  "But my dear, Mrs. Bauer especially wants to meet your husband. Don't say anything yet, dear. I'll check with you tomorrow or the next day. And don't worry, the Bauers are not concerned that you ma
rried so suddenly." Martha bustled out of the kitchen, like a tornado blown in and out of an area with equal intensity.

  "Well," MaryKatherine began, "it seems as though we're all especially invited."

  "I can't attend a social function now, MaryKatherine."

  "Leah," she said, coming to stand directly in front of her. "Please reconsider. I really want to meet Charles Bauer, and I couldn't do it without you by my side. You're strong about these matters. So please, won't you do this for me?"

  Leia looked into imploring gray eyes, immediately feeling guilt at her selfishness. "Of course. For you, MaryKatherine," she said without emotion. "But I can't speak for Brant," she added, and went to say goodnight to her husband.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked, laying a hand on his forehead, which remained cool.

  "Much better, thank you. The bleeding's stopped and the throbbing has subsided somewhat, thanks to Patrick's brandy, most likely."

  Leia perched on the side of his bed. "I'd like to thank you, Brant, for coming to our rescue today. And I'm sorry if I made you feel bad about not being here for me the first time the Rebs showed up. It wasn't your fault you weren't with me. After all, it was my own idea to travel alone."

  "Since we're speaking of rescues, has anyone found your message and tried to rescue you from me?" His voice was cold, tired, as if he asked whether the fighting had stopped.

  "Please don't hold a grudge about that. I had to let them know I'm okay." Her chest tightened, anticipating another argument.

  But Brant's voice remained calm. "Did you write in your message that you're married?"

  "Well, no," she admitted. " I wrote a very brief message. But I told them I was fine. Besides, you don't want me to using our marriage to meet the terms of my grandfather's will, do you?" She was pleased that she had thought to mention this point, but Brant didn't soften.

  "Regardless, you left a message in hopes of being rescued by someone other than me. Goodnight, Leia," he said, dismissing her as if she were a servant. In fact, with less courtesy than he'd show to a servant.

  Brant lay awake long after Leia's departure. Patrick must still be in bed, he thought, or the fatherly man would have been by with something stronger than alcohol for Brant's pain.

  His thoughts reflected on the strange day. How could the first two Rebs have been captured by the time door while today's Reb couldn't? What mysterious force controlled that door, or portal, as Leia called it? Only Hettie knew for sure. And only Hettie knew how Leia had first made her way through.

  Leia. His beautiful, mysterious wife. They'd been through so much, but he still didn't know if she cared or was trustworthy. She'd lied so much in the few short weeks since they met. But under the same circumstances, he might feel a need to use the same lies. He'd feel trapped...much as she must now.

  But wasn't he trapped too? He hadn't wanted to marry anyone. Lust had taken over his senses, something he'd thought he could control better as he grew older. Even now, the thought of her soft lips was stirring him inside.

  He had been ready to walk again, until today's events. His thigh, luckily the shot had landed there, not elsewhere, was going to be in use very soon. His decision was based on pride and a tad of boredom, not physical evidence. If someone or something tried to answer Leia's message, he had darn well better be there, and walking.

  The days between Sunday and Friday blurred together in Leia's mind. The sounds of fighting had completely ceased, yet the silence that followed was just as nerve-wracking. In efforts to keep busy, Leia spent several hours with Hettie, demonstrating the basics of the alphabet on scrap paper. She had procured the agreement of the maid, who was hesitant, only as a personal favor to herself.

  Leia knew Brant had been up and moving. She had heard the cane thumping in his room as he got his bearings. She let the others take his meals up to him, hoping a breather between them would help clear the air. There were a few times she was sorely tempted to sit on his bed and feel his forehead, for she missed the contact. A nursing contact would have been better than none at all.

  Friday morning found MaryKatherine a nervous mess, following Leia and endlessly chattering, but Leia didn't mind. Anticipating an actual social event with MaryKatherine reminded her of being with Sara. In fact, tonight's dinner would be a lot like some of their double dates.

  "Please, Leah, let me select your gown," MaryKatherine requested, eyeing her cousin's dark, plain dress.

  Leia nodded, and rifled through MaryKatherine's tall, free-standing closet. "I don't think I could wear any of these," she said. "They don't seem to have any necklines at all."

  "Girls," Martha called, entering the small bedroom. "Everything is settled. Brant has agreed to come, and Patrick has agreed to bring out the carriage for the evening. Brant couldn't walk yet, you know. So girls, wear your daintiest slippers. I hear Mrs. Bauer has even arranged for a bit of dancing tonight."

  MaryKatherine gasped in pleasure, but Leia was nonplussed.

  "This is a small dinner, right, Aunt Martha?"Leia asked.

  "Of course, dear. There are too many families in mourning that would never attend a party right now. Very, very small. And Leah, since you have abandoned mourning clothes, have your cousin select something appropriate for you to wear." Martha wrung her hands. "I have so much to do, so much to do," she said, and left the room.

  "I should go see about Brant," Leia said, turning away from the row of gowns. She could not imagine any of those garments looking good on her.

  "Oh, don't worry about him. Patrick has seen him walking. Maybe he wants to surprise you with that. I know you haven't spent much time with him lately, but anyway, we've altered black trousers for him, and cleaned his coat. I patched the shoulder as well as I could, but I'm afraid the one epaulet will always be crooked."

  "I'm sure it's fine," Leia said, thinking how quickly Sara could have repaired the coat on her super deluxe, ultra-modern sewing machine. Even better, Sara would have just whipped up a whole new coat.

  "Thank you again, Leah, for agreeing to go tonight. I'm terrified of meeting Charles, yet excited at the same time. It feels as if little insects were crawling around in my stomach."

  "It's called having butterflies in your tummy," Leia said, laughing. "And we've all had them."

  Leia had her own butterflies when she was dressed and ready to leave the security of MaryKatherine's room. She had never worn a gown with so little material at the top. The bodice pushed her small breasts up, giving the impression of much greater size. Her shoulders were completely bare. A tiny puff of a sleeve appeared midway down her arm. The gown was so tight at the waist Leia felt sure the corset would come bursting from beneath the emerald satin.

  MaryKatherine had insisted on lending her a necklace that formed a 'V' into her bosom. Hettie had swept her hair up into a twist, leaving a few unruly tendrils to hang free. She definitely felt like she was ready for a ball, maybe Cinderella's Ball, not a mere dinner.

  It had taken more than two hours for Leia to dress, so she wasn't surprised that she was the last to be ready. She walked to the top of the stairs gingerly, testing to see if the borrowed ballet-type slippers were slippery. Her nerves made her unsteady under the weight of the gown, and she took hold of the banister for support.

  Two steps down, Leia felt Brant's eyes burning into her. She saw him, waiting for her at the foot of the staircase, leaning on a wooden crutch. He had never looked so dashing, she thought, then smiled at her choice of words. Standing his full height of well over six feet, he didn't hunch over the crutch.

  She saw something in his eyes, some lusty, proud emotion that made her catch her breath, but almost instantly, three more steps down, it was gone. She descended the stairs to find him aloof and distant...Or perhaps she had imagined it all.

  He offered his hand as she reached him. "You are a vision," he said, without emotion, and kissed the top of her gloved hand.

  "So are you," she said, and dipped into an amused, informal curtsy.

  The
McGarlands and Douglases left through the front door as the sun had begun to set. Once settled in the carriage, Leia noticed how lovely MaryKatherine looked. Her cousin's extremely low cut silver gown shimmered, making her large gray eyes gleam as well. With dainty hands folded demurely in her lap, MaryKatherine was the picture of femininity. Perhaps it was Leia's imagination, but it seemed that Brant noticed, too.

  At least two dozen people were milling about the Bauer home, and Leia wondered what number would constitute a 'large' dinner party. She watched from a distance as MaryKatherine was introduced to Charles, then three other young men. Obviously, Charles had brought some of his buddies home with him, and they were all vying for MaryKatherine's attention.

  Martha introduced Leia as Brant to a few other couples, mostly older men and women who had not lost family members to the war. One very young couple was present with a toddler. The husband had recently lost a leg.

  The mood of the group was festive. Laughter pealed across the room, probably from MaryKatherine when she realized she was the only single female present.

  When the announcement came that dinner was ready, Brant dutifully took his wife by the arm. The dining table was very long and elegant, and Leia found her seat directly opposite Brant's. Charles Bauer was to her right, with MaryKatherine across from him. Beyond that arrangement, the lack of females had ruined the boy-girl seating.

  "Mrs. Douglas," Charles began, tilting his head toward Leia's.

  "Please call me Leah," she said, bringing her goblet to her lips.

  "Leah, tell me what you think of Walnut Grove. You're from Baltimore, I understand?"

  She nodded. "Yes, I am, and the few places I have seen are lovely. I've not seen the town."

  "What? Are you a prisoner at the McGarlands? How shocking," Charles said, teasing.

  Leia smiled, glancing at Brant across the table. His face was unreadable, but Leia felt he was not happy with the conversation. She noticed that MaryKatherine was in constant banter with the other young men, and thought perhaps Charles was talking to her to make MaryKatherine feel jealous and capture her attention.