Читать книгу Honor Before Heart - Heather McCorkle - Страница 14

Three hairpins later, most of Ashlinn’s blond locks finally had been tamed back into a braid that reached down between her shoulder blades. Still, she fussed with stray bits of it here and there, seeking perfection. With shaking hands, she smoothed the skirt of her simple blue work dress. A pang of self-consciousness twinged within her.

The ladies of New York would scoff at such a drab thing. They, however, didn’t have to labor over bleeding men all day. While she didn’t either right now, as her day of work was over, she didn’t have any other dresses that didn’t have bloodstains. The only thing the garment had going for it besides a nicely fitted bodice was a skirt that was scandalously short. Had she been wearing a fancy pair of shoes her ankles should have shown. But all her fancy shoes were a world away back in New York. All she had in this muddy, dreary place was her calf-high working boots.

One last look in the tiny mirror propped upon her trunk made her cringe at the dark circles beneath her eyes. She tried to convince herself that it had to do with the candlelight, but the yawn fighting its way through spoke otherwise. Graveyard rounds were all the doctor would permit her to do, but she wasn’t about to let him win by giving up. The soldiers needed her.

Tonight was about one soldier in particular. Three days from their arrival and Sean was finally feeling good enough for a bit of exercise. He had asked her to join him in a walk along the river. The very thought brought heat to her cheeks, turning them a nice color. It was a shame he was bringing along another soldier as chaperone. Often she found herself longing for the time they had spent alone. Such wicked thoughts added a smile along with her blush. Of course, she wouldn’t risk her heart by allowing feelings for the man to form, but a little harmless flirting couldn’t hurt.

A soft woof came from the opening of her tent. Gathering her skirt so it didn’t catch on anything in the cramped area, she went to the flap and opened it. Big tail wagging, a grin exposing her canines, stood Cliste. Beside her, a young soldier stood at attention, his left brow twitching each time Cliste’s tail smacked his leg. Ashlinn glanced over at Sean’s dark tent, suddenly fearful that he had sent this man along to cancel for him, or worse.

“Hello,” she managed through a tightening throat.

“Hello, ma’am. The general has sent me to invite you to a ball to be held tomorrow night to celebrate the visit of President Lincoln.”

A hand flew to her chest as if to stop her thundering heart from trying to leap out of its cage. Relief weakened her knees but resolve kept her upright. So many thoughts and concerns raced through her mind that she found it impossible to give voice to even one of them. Perhaps she would be able to speak to a general, or at least a lieutenant, at such an event and try to convince them to send out search parties for missing soldiers. The young soldier extended an envelope and a pencil to her.

“The general asks that you provide your dress and shoe size so that he may send along proper attire.”

It felt more like a command than an invitation, one delivered in a polite, respectful tone, but a command nonetheless. It had been two years since she had worn something fine and danced about a ballroom, so she wasn’t about to argue. Then, of course, there was the small matter of the President of the United States being present. Surely she’d never get close enough to speak to him, but others perhaps. She accepted the offered objects, opened the envelope, wrote her name and size on the paper inside, and handed it back.

“Thank you, Private,” she said with a slight curtsy.

“You are quite welcome, ma’am.” He tipped his cap to her and moved on toward another nurse’s tent.

All the nurse’s tents had been pitched in this small area between the hospital and the grounds of the plantation manor. Not only did the general deem it a safer place for the women, but as the only place on the property left with any grass, it was also the cleanest. He wanted his soldiers’ hospital in the best possible location. Ashlinn had gained quite a bit of respect for the man once she had heard that. This invitation, though, she wasn’t sure what to think of.

“Has that patient of yours died yet?” An ugly croak of a voice interrupted her musings.

The very sound of the doctor’s voice made the hair on the back of her neck stir. Damn, why hadn’t she returned inside her tent, or gone to Sean’s?

“Of course not. He improves every day.”

The temptation to brag about how well his stitches were taking and the lack of any signs of infection grew, but she suppressed it. This man did not deserve to know how Sean was doing and she was not about to tell him simply for the sake of bragging. When it came to treatment of her and the other nurses, this one was far worse than the doctor who had died out on the battlefield.

An almost imperceptible growl rumbled from Cliste as the hound moved between Ashlinn and the approaching doctor. In dark breeches and a beige shirt that bore no visible signs of bloodstains, the man was almost presentable. That was, if you could look past the dark sideburns of hair that clung to cheeks that turned into chops, which Ashlinn could not. It wasn’t that she only fell for a handsome face. The deep lines between this man’s brows from constantly furrowing them and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes from sneering too much were hard to look past. Crumbs clung to his bushy mustache and his jaw worked at some type of food or another.

A smile full of anything but joy slid onto the doctor’s face. “Well, in that case he will be ready to rejoin his brigade in no time.”

His gaze traveled over her body, lashes low like spiders trying to cover their tracks. But she noticed. Oh yes, she noticed. She wished for her coat, a shawl, anything to cover the bit of cleavage her square neck dress revealed.

Ashlinn’s throat tightened at the thought but she smiled back to hide her reaction, lifting her chin. “Indeed he will.”

For the briefest moment, something like regret flashed in the doctor’s eyes. He extended something to her: crackers wrapped in wax treated paper, a rare thing in the midst of war. A slightly sweet scent wafted up from them.

“All the way from New York. Would you like some?” he asked in a voice sweet as syrup.

She turned her nose up. “No, thank you.”

His beady eyes shot to Cliste for a brief moment, then back to Ashlinn. “McClellan only wants the women there as pretty play things, you know.”

Casting her eyes up and to the side, she shook her head. “The general is much more intelligent than that. He seeks to bring a sense of civility to the president’s visit. One can hardly blame him.”

“You give the man too much credit; he is still a man.” He cleared his throat and stood straighter. “Regardless, a woman should not go unescorted to such a function.”

Dread as wet and cold as a New York fall morning seeped into her. Her mind scurried for an excuse to end the conversation but nothing would come to her. Footsteps squished upon wet grass and she turned toward them eagerly.

“Ah, Ashlinn, there you are. I was just comin’ to fetch you for our walk,” Sean said as he approached.

Tail wagging with such exuberance that her entire backside swayed, Cliste trotted to Sean’s side, sticking her nose in his hand. He scratched between her ears, grinning down at her as if she were the grandest thing in all the world. Dark breeches and a blue shirt fit his fine frame quite nicely, revealing just a bit of the swell of his bicep and the curve of his behind. Realizing she was staring, Ashlinn looked down, pretending to smooth her dress. That nicely curved bicep appeared in front of her.

“Shall we?” he asked.

She accepted his arm a bit too readily. “Indeed, before we lose the light.”

The doctor puffed his chest out like a red rooster and sputtered several times before getting any words out. “Surely you are not gallivanting about unescorted.”

Sean grinned and looked behind the doctor. “O’ course not. I may be a soldier, but I am also a gentleman.”

The doctor spun around and glared at the uniformed soldier standing at attention behind him. When he looked back at them, Ashlinn had to hide a smile behind her hand.

“Good day then, Doctor,” Sean said as he began to lead Ashlinn toward the manor house.

Shooting the doctor a brief growl, Cliste shot out ahead of them.

In her free hand, Ashlinn held her skirts up until they cleared the occasional muddy areas and made it to the dense green grass. Soon they were out of the maze of tents with nothing but the sight of the sprawling southern manor and its surrounding lawn before them. The warmth of Sean’s arm looped around hers made her long for him to move closer so she could feel more of his body. To her dismay, he truly did act the gentleman and kept his distance. If only she could cover her ears and block out the constant buzz of the encampment, then she would be able to pretend they weren’t in the midst of a war.

“I do apologize if I interrupted your conversation with the doctor,” he said after a while.

“Do not apologize for rescuing me. In fact, I hope that you will consider interrupting any time you see the doctor having a conversation with me.”

Sean laughed. The deep, carefree sound echoed down into Ashlinn’s soul, tingling in the most amazing way. Heat warmed her cheeks and she used the excuse to look back at the soldier following them to hide her blush.

“Very well then. I shall consider it my duty to rescue you any time I see you in his presence.”

“Thank you,” she managed in a soft voice peppered with pain.

He looked down at her. “You should not let that blaggard get to you.”

She swallowed hard, mustering up the courage to speak. “’Tis more than his surly attitude. When my brothers were wounded, it was he who treated them. They died on his table.” Why she was being so open and forward with this man, she had no idea. All she knew was that his presence soothed her, put her at ease in a way little did now days.

“I am sorry. I did not think ’twas possible to dislike the man more, but now I do. But he was right about one thing, you know.”

Her gaze whipped back up to him. “That, I find hard to believe. What could he possibly be right about?”

His wonderful copper eyes met hers, the sunbursts of darker brown around the pupil drawing her in. “It would be best if you had an escort to the ball, and I would be most honored if you would allow me to be that escort.”

Ashlinn’s eyes widened before she remembered her manners, swept her long lashes over them, and nodded. “I would be most honored to attend with you.”

“It is I who will have the honor. What is your favorite color? I shall send along a request to General McClellan about the dress.”

Her blush returned with a vengeance, scalding her cheeks and making her wish the evening were cooler. “No need to go to all that trouble for me. I shall be happy with whatever he sends along.”

The devilish grin he gave her made an entirely different kind of heat spread through far more scandalous parts of her body. “Perhaps you would allow me to choose a color.”

She inclined her head, mostly to hide her red cheeks. “Certainly. I am curious to see what it will be.”

The river soon came into view, undulating along the edge of the plantation property like a lazy snake on a sultry summer day. Cliste bounded right for the water, sending droplets flying everywhere as she plunged in with an abandon that Ashlinn envied. Though clouds still lingered in the sky, it hadn’t rained all day, making the combination of heat and humidity stifling. The subdued light cast by the setting sun softened the edges of everything, giving the scene a gentle look that clashed with the chaos behind them. Frogs croaked and bugs buzzed, a reminder that life in nature went on despite their war.

Though he didn’t so much as let out a groan, Ashlinn could tell by how he stiffened after a while that Sean’s side began to hurt. This was his first real exercise since they had returned. She had insisted he rest for a few days with little activity. Pretending to fuss with her skirts, she slowed her pace.

“Why do you think the president is coming to visit?” she asked as they turned to walk along the grassy riverbank.

Sean let out a long breath and shook his head as he looked down at his boots. “General McClellan wrote him a letter.”

“A letter?”

“Aye. He beseeched the president to focus the efforts of the war on preservin’ the Union instead of endin’ slavery.”

The tension lacing his words told her he wasn’t exactly happy about that.

“And this bothers you.”

His jaw tightened as he cast his gaze out over the slow moving river. “Aye. We cannot be unified when a third of our people are slaves.”

They stopped at an old wooden bench beneath a small arbor covered in grape vines. Ashlinn sat down on the bench and motioned for Sean to do the same. Clearly he needed to rest for more reasons than one. After a quick glance around, he sat, but at a respectable distance so their legs didn’t touch. Feeling bold, and needing to pull him from his dark thoughts, Ashlinn took hold of his hand. Sean glanced over his shoulder at their chaperone but didn’t pull his hand back. The man stood a respectable distance away, staring off into the distance.

“I keep track of every man I have tended, writing down his name, address, and the names of his family members in a book so that if he dies, I can send a letter to his family. There are hundreds of names in that book and I know thousands more have died.” She had to take a deep breath to steady her voice. “Focusing on preserving the Union would likely make the Rebels concede at this point. Part of me understands McClellan’s desire to end things. It’s one thing to tend to a wounded man, another entirely to send him to his death.”

Cocking his head, Sean looked at her through narrowed eyes. “You agree with the general?”

“No, not at all. I merely understand where he is coming from. I believe slavery must be ended, and even if it costs an entire generation their lives, it will save the souls of countless more to come.”

The wrinkles in Sean’s brow smoothed out and his eyes widened. “You are a very interestin’ woman, Ashlinn O’Brian.”

Laughter spilled from Ashlinn, not the polite giggle expected from ladies but an unrestrained guffaw that she regretted immediately. “I have been called many things, but never that.”

For several moments, Sean laughed along with her, putting her completely at ease. His fingers tightened around hers as he gave her a smile of pure joy. “’Tis true. I admire that you think so deeply and speak your mind about it.”

She raised one eyebrow at him. “Then that makes you a very interesting man, Mr. MacBranain. Most men prefer their women to be seen and not heard.”

“I have noticed that unfortunate fact about men in America. ’Tis not so in our native Ireland, for the most part.”

They sat looking out upon the river for a while, enjoying the birdsong and the crickets tuning up for the coming night. In the shade of the grapevine leaves, the heat of the day almost reduced to pleasant. The sweet scent the remaining ripe grapes gave off was a bit cloying in its strength, but well worth it.

Soon Sean leaned close enough that their shoulders touched. Though cloth separated them, the motion felt wonderfully intimate.

“Thank you for this,” Sean said.

“For what?”

As their eyes met, he reached up to touch a strand of her hair. “For savin’ my life. And for remindin’ me there is more to it than killin’ and dyin’.”

Though she swallowed hard multiple times, she could not get the lump in her throat to go down so she could respond. The warmth and gratitude in his eyes drew her in until she swam in their coppery depths. One of his arms slid around her waist, drawing her closer. Desire filled those lovely eyes, but a tightness remained around them as if he were holding back. Of course he was. He was a true gentleman after all.

“To hell with propriety,” she murmured as she leaned closer to him, her lips reaching for his.

Freezing droplets of water struck her all over, followed by the swishing sound of dog’s hair moving as it shook.

“Ahhh, Cliste!” Ashlinn exclaimed as she brought her arms up to shield herself.

Sean’s carefree laugh filled the evening, more refreshing than a cool summer breeze. Such a laugh was a rare and precious thing in these times, something she hadn’t heard much at all in the past two years.

Tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, bent over ears perked as high as they could go, Cliste regarded them both with what could only be humor in her eyes.

“Cliste, I fear you are a better chaperone than my friend over there,” Sean told the hound.

The hound’s tail wagged, sending more water flying as she came closer. Laughing, Ashlinn waved her hands out before her. “No, no. Do not dare come near me, you wet thing!”

Sean picked up a stick, waved it before the hound, and tossed it toward the riverbank. Emitting a soft woof, Cliste bounded after it, tail flinging a last round of droplets on them as it wagged. The lengthening shadows of twilight soon swallowed her big gray silhouette.

A long sigh filled with regret eased from Sean as he rose. “Well, ’tis gettin’ dark; it would be ungentlemanly of me not to get you back to your tent.”

Rather than offer her his arm, he offered his bare hand, proving he wasn’t completely against being ungentlemanly. Smiling, Ashlinn accepted it and rose to stand closer to him than was ladylike. Another step and they would be pressed together. It was all she could do not to take that step. Whatever had come over her, she decided she liked it. From beneath her lashes, she gazed up at him.

“Being completely gentlemanly is overrated at times,” she said.

He draped her arm around his and pressed her hand against his forearm. “Perhaps it is,” he said as they began to walk.

With her free hand, she fussed with her skirt, using the excuse to keep their pace slow. Not only was she in no hurry to get back, she didn’t want him overexerting himself. All too soon, they were picking their way through the muddy patches that dotted the pathways between tents. Candlelight glowed from within a few of the tents already. Thankfully, the paths were empty of people for the most part. Cliste pushed her nose through the canvas door of their tent and dashed inside, leaving them alone.

Arm withdrawing from hers, Sean took a step back. Before they lost contact altogether, he caught up one of her hands, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it. The heady sensation of a man’s lips—this man’s lips in particular—upon the bare flesh of her hand was entirely new. Men had kissed her hand before, but always with a glove upon it. A thrill vibrated all the way down to her core. Her eyes shot open and she gasped at the pleasure of it. From beneath his dark brown locks, he gazed up at her from where he bent over her hand. Muscles low in her abdomen clenched, widening her eyes even farther.

“Guess I’m not a complete gentleman after all,” he whispered.

The husky tone of his voice touched things inside her that she longed for his skin to. Her face was afire with the scandal of her thoughts, and she couldn’t care less.

“Like I said, overrated,” she said in a breathy voice.

Slowly, and with obvious regret, he let her hand slide from his and took a step back. “Until tomorrow night then.” He bowed and shot her a devilish grin before turning toward his own tent less than ten feet away.

Harmless flirting, she reminded herself. Just harmless flirting. Pushing the boundaries like that made it feel like something almost scandalous, which was fine by her. A scandal her heart could survive; a courtship that ended with a dead suitor, it could not. As she undid the remaining ties that held her tent flap closed, she watched him out of her peripheral vision. He gave her a wink before ducking into his tent, flushing her face with heat yet again over having her staring discovered. Definitely scandalous.

Not wanting to risk the doctor “happening” by again while she was alone, she quickly retreated inside her tent and tied the flap closed. The thump of a tail against the ground greeted her. Cliste seemed to smile up at her from where she lay upon an old blanket at the foot of Ashlinn’s cot. It amazed her how pleased with itself a hound could look.

Not even bothering to loosen her corset, she flopped onto her back on the cot, letting out a long breath that she felt all the way down to her toes. Never had she been a lady prone to swooning over a man—not even as a young girl. Medical papers, studies, and practice had always been what intrigued her most in life. Men and relationships were a thing she had made little time for. But here this man came out of the blue, capturing much more than just her attention.

This was neither the time nor the place to allow herself to be distracted by matters of the heart. Not to mention, there was the issue of every man in her life having died or disappeared. She wasn’t exactly lucky where they were concerned. For both of their sakes, she needed to keep her heart guarded. While she tried to convince herself of that, she couldn’t help but long for the hours between now and the ball to pass as quickly as possible.