Читать книгу The Fire Within - Lynda Trent - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Caleb watched as Megan sat on the side of the bed and started untying the bandage on his arm. She was trying to ignore the fact he was looking at her. “Tell me about yourself,” he said.

She glanced at him in surprise. “There’s nothing more to tell. You already know I’m promised to Seth Brennan and that I’m going to use you to get him back.”

“There’s more to you than that. Have you lived in the settlement all your life?”

“Of course. I was born there. So were my brother and sister.”

“You didn’t mention a brother yesterday. I gather he’s off fighting on the Confederate side?”

For a long time she was silent. “We don’t talk about Owen. And no, he’s fighting for the North.” She closed her mouth as if she had said too much.

Caleb was intrigued. “He’s on my side? Then why are your parents Confederate?”

“When Owen joined up Papa disowned him. As far as the settlement is concerned, Owen is dead.”

His voice softened. “Are those tears in your eyes?”

“No.” She turned away abruptly and reached for the pan of clean water.

“I can do this for myself,” he said.

“I don’t want to take a chance on you pulling the wound open. You’ve lost too much blood as it is.” She gently washed the wound clean and put another bandage around it.

Caleb automatically caught the quilt as she tried to pull it away. Her dark eyes met his. “I have to keep you clean. As for modesty, I’ve seen you already.”

Caleb surrendered the quilt. When she removed the bandage, he caught his breath at the pain. This wound was far more severe than the one on his arm. For a moment his senses reeled as if he were about to pass out.

“You’re still weak,” she said. “That’s why I’m doing this for you.” She kept the covers over as much of him as possible as she probed the swollen flesh circling the wound. “This one doesn’t look so good.”

He raised himself on his elbows and looked. Again his head spun. “Is the bullet still in it?” He dreaded her answer. If it was, she would have to cut it out.

She shook her head. “The bullet went clean through. I don’t think it even nicked the bone, at least not as far as I can tell. I had hoped it would mend as quickly as the other one. Of course it’s still fresh. It’s too soon to know if it’s going bad.”

Caleb had seen many wounds and he knew this one could be a problem. He had also seen too many amputations in field hospitals. “Promise me something. Don’t cut off my leg. If it goes bad, I might pass out and not know what you’re doing. Promise me.”

“I don’t plan to cut off your leg, Captain Morgan. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to do that.”

“Neither do most army doctors. If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it with all my parts intact. Promise me.”

Her eyes met his. “I promise.”

He lay back with relief. “During the first part of the war I was assigned to oversee the wounded and be certain they received medical treatment. I saw things in the hospital tent that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Megan lifted his leg enough to slide the fresh bandage beneath and tied it into place. Caleb bit back his pain. “I know that hurts,” she said, “but we have to keep it clean or it will go bad.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t know it for sure, but cleanliness can’t hurt. When I cut myself, it seems to heal quicker if I keep the place clean.”

“I know some army doctors who should take lessons from you.” He tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one.

“Besides, I want you to heal fast so I can get Seth back sooner.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You don’t seem eager to talk about yourself and I’m trying to have a conversation.” Caleb needed to know all he could find out about his captor if he was going to escape.

“There’s not much to say about him, either. We grew up together. Everybody has assumed all my life that we would marry.”

“Is that why you’re marrying him?”

“Of course not. I love him.” She frowned slightly, as if she were considering the question. “What about you? Are you married?” She ducked her head. “I was thinking that if you are, I could get word to her somehow that you’re alive. I’d want someone to do the same for me.”

“No, I’m not married.”

She looked at him with her level gaze. “Why not?”

He smiled at her straightforwardness. “I never met a woman I wanted to talk to all my life.”

Megan put her head to one side. “That’s a funny way to put it. Talking is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t it to you?”

“The men in my family rarely talk to their wives and daughters. They talk to each other, I guess, but only about crops and hunting. Things like that. What would you have to tell a woman that would take the rest of your life to say?”

“That I love her, for one thing. I wouldn’t marry her unless I did and that’s something that needs to be said often, assuming it’s true.”

Megan frowned and let her hands drop into her lap. “I never in my life heard Papa tell Mama he loves her.”

“Most likely that takes place at night when they’re alone.”

She laughed. “You never lived in a cabin, did you? There’s not much privacy.” She caught herself and stood. “I have things to do.”

“I like talking to you. Can’t they wait?”

She went to the door, the soiled bandages soaking in the pan of water. “I’m not used to talking so much. I have work to do.” She paused as if she were considering coming back into the room, then left, pulling the door shut behind her.

Caleb lay back on the pillows. She intrigued him. Certainly she was nothing like anyone he had ever known before. “Doesn’t Seth talk to you?” he called out.

She opened the door again. She had already put the bandages to soak in clean water and was drying her hands. “What?”

“I said, doesn’t Seth talk to you?”

“He talks to me when he has something to say. What sort of a question is that?”

“But does he talk just to hear what you think or feel?”

Megan laughed, then saw that he was serious. “Captain Morgan, we have a lot more work to do here in Black Hollow than you seem to realize. We don’t have time to stand around talking about nothing in particular. Who would wash the clothes and mend the fences and repair the shutters if we spent the day in conversation?”

“It seems to me Seth would want to know about your thoughts and feelings if he’s in love with you.”

“Seth loves me,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. “You don’t even know him. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“You don’t seem to be accustomed to talking to a man.”

“Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to talk to the enemy. Have you thought about that, Captain Morgan?” she retorted.

“Call me Caleb. It seems only right since I’m sleeping in your bed.” A thought suddenly struck him. “There is another bed, isn’t there? For you?”

“I’m quite comfortable in the back room on a pallet.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you had two bedrooms—with beds.”

Megan gave him an exasperated look. “Does this look like a palace to you? I have one good feather bed and you’re on it. When I have children and they grow old enough to need a bed, Mama and I will stuff another ticking. Until then, it would just go to waste.”

“Why didn’t you put me on the pallet instead of in here?”

“I guess I just didn’t have time to think about it. You were hurt so bad and this was the closest bed.”

“But you left me on it, even after I started getting better.”

“Captain Morgan...”

“Caleb.”

“If you want to sleep on the floor, I’d be glad to oblige. But right now, I have a wash to do and a fire to tend in the smokehouse. I can’t stand around here all day and do nothing but talk.” She turned and pulled the door firmly shut behind her.

Caleb sighed and opened The Mysteries of Udolpho. He started on the first page. The familiar words greeted him. His convalescence would be long if there was no one willing to talk to him. Until now he had never realized how much he enjoyed conversation. “On the pleasant banks of the Garonne, in the province of Gascony...” he began reading.

“Here are your things,” Megan said, holding out a handful of the objects Caleb had carried in his pocket. There was a pocket watch, the money left from his last paycheck, a locket. “She’s very pretty.” Megan had the grace to blush. “I looked inside. Normally I wouldn’t have pried, but under the circumstances...”

“If I can share your bed, you can examine the content of my pockets. I think she’s beautiful.”

“Is she your intended?”

“No, she’s my sister.”

Megan found herself smiling. “Your sister?”

“Her name is Felicity, but that’s a contradiction. She’s full of mischief. Since she’s the youngest, we’ve all spoiled her shamelessly.” His expression told Megan he loved his sister and didn’t regret the spoiling in the least.

Megan wondered what it would be like to be pampered. Also, this talk about brother and sister made her miss Owen a great deal.

“Were you spoiled as a child, Miss Llewellyn?”

“Certainly not. And you may call me Megan. After all, you gave me permission to call you by your first name so it’s only proper.”

“And after all, I’m sharing your bed.”

“Will you stop saying that?” She frowned at him in exasperation. It put too many ideas into her head. In the few days he had been here, she had started to find him far too interesting. “In the Hollow we don’t believe in spoiling children. It only leads to trouble later.”

“I don’t believe that it does. How can it hurt to love a child?” His gray eyes gazed into hers and she had the uncanny impression that he could see her thoughts.

She turned away. “I was loved. Just not spoiled.”

“I would think Seth would pamper you a great deal.”

Megan didn’t want to talk about Seth to Caleb. He always came off in a bad light. “I’ll remind him to do that as soon as he comes home again,” she said tersely.

“If you were my fiancée, I would treat you as if you were the most beautiful and the most cherished woman in the world.”

She looked at him in surprise.

Caleb looked away this time. “Sorry. I guess I overstepped the bounds. It’s none of my business how Seth or anyone else treats you.”

“That’s all right.” She was dismayed at the surge of warmth his words had caused. Had he been able to tell? She was afraid to meet his eyes. Reluctantly she came farther into the room. “Seth means well. He really does. I’m a plain person, Capt—Caleb. I’m not used to frills, nor was I brought up to want them. Seth is the sort of man I’ve known all my life. He’s like my father and my uncles and my cousins. He fits into my life. It’s not natural for men like Seth to pamper their women.”

“I think all women bloom when it’s obvious that they’re loved. I couldn’t love a woman and not treat her as if she were a fragile treasure.”

Megan laughed. “Fragile treasures don’t haul water from wells and hoe gardens. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a woman like that. There aren’t any fine ladies in the Hollow.”

He smiled at her as if he disagreed with her. For a moment Megan wondered if he were trying to sweet-talk her in order to get her to free him. But that made no sense. He couldn’t walk as far as the road, let alone all the way to a Union camp. Besides, she had already told him she would return him to his people in exchange for Seth as soon as possible. No, she must have misunderstood him altogether.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Tell me about your sister. Does she like to sew?”

“Yes, but she prefers to read. Felicity has loved reading all her life. Even before she learned to make out words, she had me read her stories. Mama would have been appalled if she knew half of what we read. Felicity’s head was so filled with pirates and sunken treasures, she had trouble sleeping.”

Against her will, Megan was intrigued. She went to the straight-backed chair and picked up her darning. “Your parents didn’t object to her reading?”

“Of course not. They encouraged it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see how that can be. I know Bridget and I are busy all day with chores and have been ever since I can remember. Mama would never have the time to sit down and read. Neither would Papa, for that matter. How is it that your family has all this spare time?” She expertly dropped the darning egg into the sock and started making the tiny stitches to repair the heel.

“I suppose we just live differently.”

“I suppose. Do you live in a city?”

“Yes. Pollard’s Crossing isn’t as large as, say, Chicago by any means, but it’s still a city.”

“You’ve seen Chicago?” Megan’s fingers stopped momentarily.

“Several times. Have you?”

“No,” she said with a laugh at the idea. “I’ve never been beyond Raintree.” She glanced at him to see if that lowered her in his estimation. He was only looking at the locket he still held in his hand.

“I think you and Felicity would be friends.”

“We have so much in common,” she said wryly.

“Actually you do. She loves Mrs. Radcliffe’s books above all else. She can even quote complete passages from Udolpho.”

“How old is she?”

“Nineteen.”

“We’re almost the same age.”

“I thought you must be.”

“I’m quite close to my sister, Bridget. She doesn’t like to read but she knows I do and she’s helped me hide my books from time to time. She can read,” Megan added quickly, “but she prefers not to.”

“Does she have red hair, too?” he asked with a smile.

Megan automatically reached up and touched her hair. Red hair wasn’t considered a beauty trait in the Hollow. “Yes. Hers is even more red than mine. We get it from Mama.”

“And does Owen also have red hair?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve told you I’m not supposed to talk about him. He’s dead to the family. But his hair is the same color as mine. Dark red.”

“Auburn,” Caleb said. “That’s what I’d call it. It’s beautiful.”

“You shouldn’t say such personal things. We’re stuck here together until you get well. I can’t allow you to be so intimate.”

“We’re only talking about your brother’s and sister’s hair coloring. That’s not too intimate, surely.” He sounded innocent but she caught the teasing sparkle in his eyes. If she were a different person in a different place, she would think he was actually flirting with her.

“Are you forgetting I’m promised to Seth?”

“Not for a single minute.”

She laid her darning in her lap and looked at him. “You confuse me. You’re not like any man I know. Not at all.”

“Yes, I’m certain that’s true. In my family we don’t believe in working a woman from sunup to sundown.”

With a frown she said, “That’s not fair. You don’t know my family or what we’re like.”

“That’s true. I apologize.” But he was smiling as if he were enjoying teasing her.

Megan put her darning back into her workbasket. “I have other chores to do while it’s daylight. You’ll have to amuse yourself. Memorize Udolpho while I’m gone.”

He opened it to the back. “All seven hundred pages?” he asked with a grin.

“I have a lot of chores. You’ll have time.” She left him and went into the other room.

For a minute she leaned against the wall, feeling its bumpy sturdiness and trying to remember who she was and, more important, who he was. This was her enemy. She couldn’t indulge in a flirtation with him even if she wasn’t engaged to Seth. She felt unfaithful as it was. What had she been thinking of to sit in the bedroom with him and do her needlework, just as if he were a family member? Megan pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. After this she would be more careful.

She went out onto the porch. A cold wind had blown in the night before and the air had a snap of winter in it. She pulled her knitted shawl closer about her shoulders. There was kindling to chop and corn to be shelled. A shutter had worked loose during the night’s wind and she tried to put it back into place. It dropped at an angle again. She would have to go out to the shed beside the smokehouse and find a hammer and one of the square nails Patrick made for the settlement. It was hard for one person to keep up a house.

She frowned at the window set in the bedroom wall. How had she believed even for a moment that Caleb’s womenfolk had time to sit around and read? Even in a city there must be shutters to mend and fire to be fed and corn to be shelled. These things didn’t tend to themselves. He must have been teasing, thinking she was as green as grass in the spring. With an angry movement, Megan knotted her shawl more securely and went down the steps.

The woodpile was at the side of the house nearest the settlement. She bent and put a pine log on the large stump she used as a chopping block. With her hatchet, she slivered the pine into long splinters that would easily catch fire and ignite the heavy oak logs in the fireplace. The pine was from an old tree that had been felled during a storm the winter before and had rotted to the point of exposing its core. Heart of pine was the best kindling to be found.

As she chopped, she noticed a flash of yellow coming through the woods and looked up to see Bridget crossing the clearing. Megan waved to keep her sister from going into the house. Bridget veered to join her.

“Mama wants to know if you need any of the meat we’re smoking? She put by a sizable amount and you can have some if you want it.”

“No, but tell her I appreciate the offer. I brought up all my smokehouse can hold so I have plenty to see me through the winter. Assuming the soldiers don’t find it.”

Bridget nodded. “I can’t help but think of Patrick when I see them passing. Our boys look so hungry and so poorly clothed. It’s all I can do not to send them off with all our food and extra wraps. Patrick must look just like them.”

“I know. I share stew with them whenever I can. But we don’t know that all the states are like this. Maybe in Georgia things are better. News never reaches us until it’s old. Patrick may have plenty to eat and warm clothes as well.” They both knew this wasn’t the case, but Bridget needed to hear it.

“This is true. I pray for him every night. Maybe some Confederate mother or sister is taking care of him for me.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”

“We’ve hidden our smoked meat. Have you done that? If you haven’t, Papa says he’ll come over tomorrow and help you.”

“I’m doing it today. I wanted to smoke it as long as possible.” Megan stacked the irregular sticks of kindling in the box she stored them in. “It’s so different from curing hogs. I hope it tastes all right. There was no time to let it age in salt. I just rubbed it with black pepper and borax to keep the skippers out and hung it up.”

“So did we. It might be tough, but we can boil it tender, I guess. Nobody ever handed down a recipe for horse meat that I know of.”

“I sure never thought I’d be reduced to eating a horse.” Megan picked up the kindling box and paused. She couldn’t take it into the house and risk Bridget finding Caleb. Bridget would try to keep the secret, but her mouth sometimes out-raced her mind. Megan put the box back down on the ground and started splitting more kindling.

“How much kindling do you need?” Bridget asked.

“If I don’t do it now, I’ll just have to do it later. Kindling will keep.”

“I almost forgot. Papa said he saw a Union patrol down the mountain yesterday. He says for you to be real careful. They may be coming this way.”

“I’ll watch out for them.” Megan wondered if they could be looking for Caleb. By now he would have been missed and someone might have a way of knowing he wasn’t captured or buried.

“I’ve got to be going now. Mama says she’ll be expecting you for dinner on Sunday.”

“I always eat there on Sunday. Why would she have you remind me?”

“I don’t know. You know how Mama is. She has the sight just like her grandmother did. Maybe she saw something keeping you from coming down.”

“Tell her I’ll be there.” From time to time Megan had also experienced the family phenomenon. She always became uneasy whenever a death was about to occur. She had never told Bridget because her sister would only have worried.

“Anyway, she said to tell you she expects you for dinner.”

“Tell her not to fret.” Megan frowned slightly. Did her mother somehow suspect that Caleb was in Megan’s cabin? Frequently Jane knew things no one had told her, and on occasion Megan had experienced this herself. As far as she knew, Bridget had no glimmerings of the sight at all and was as uninformed as their father in that respect.

When Bridget was gone, Megan took the brimming box of kindling into the house. Since she rarely allowed her fire to go out, there was enough kindling to last her a year. She dropped it beside the hearth and put another log on the fire.

A glance at the window told her that evening was only a couple of hours away. She shouldn’t have wasted the precious minutes of daylight talking with Caleb earlier.

She went back outside and to the shed where she kept the tools and ropes needed around the farm. Taking several lengths of rope, she went into the woods. After tying a chunk of wood to the end of a rope, Megan tossed it over the highest limb possible. Then she went back to the smokehouse and brought out the first of the smoked meat, tied carefully in a tow sack.

She tied the sack of meat to the end of the rope and hauled it up into the top of the tree, being careful not to leave it suspended too close to other limbs. She didn’t want to go to all the trouble of hiding it from soldiers and have some predator eat it.

When the end of the rope was tied to the trunk of the tree, she looked up. If a person didn’t know where to look, it was as good as invisible.

For the next two hours she repeated the process until every spare roast was tied in the treetops and hidden as well as she could manage. She ached from the unaccustomed effort and was glad to fasten the smokehouse door and go back to the cabin.

As she approached, she heard voices. Fear congealed in her veins as she rounded the corner and saw three Union soldiers entering her yard. The sun hung low over the treetops and night would soon be falling. What did they want at her house?

“Yes?” she asked in a cold tone. Had they heard Caleb inside? They could have been in there with him for all she knew.

“We’re looking for food, ma’am,” one said. None of them were smiling.

She kept her distance. “So am I. Your army already cleaned me out.” She jerked her head in the direction of the smokehouse. “See for yourselves.”

The man in charge motioned for one of the men to go look. “We’re also looking for a man named Captain Caleb Morgan. Have you seen him around here?”

“I don’t know of any Morgan family living in these parts.” She deliberately made herself sound a bit slow of wit. That had worked in the past. “You could ask over to Raintree. The Morgans might live there.”

“No, this was a Union soldier, not a family,” the other man said impatiently. “We’re trying to see if he was killed or captured.”

“I haven’t killed anybody.” Megan crossed her arms over her chest. “If you find any food, I’d appreciate it if you’d share it with me.”

“Not much chance of that,” the second man said again.

His superior frowned at him. To Megan he said, “I apologize for my men. These are hard times for all of us.”

Especially those of us who don’t get to ride around on horses and steal from women who are trying to keep body and soul together. She frowned at them in the fading light.

The other man returned. “The smokehouse is empty. It smells like smoke though. Maybe she heard us coming and is hiding the meat.

Megan held her arms out. “Do you think I could hide much under this shawl? Maybe it’s in my shoe?”

Behind her, she heard a voice call out. Caleb had heard the men. She stepped up on the porch, blocking their way. “Since there’s nothing to steal, I won’t object to you riding away.”

“Is that a man in there?” the second soldier asked. “Who do I hear?”

“You hear my brother. He’s a bit slow in the mind and the army doesn’t want him. He’s been on a three-day drinking binge. If you’ll take him off my hands, you can have him.” She held her breath.

The officer grinned. “No, we aren’t recruiting drunken brothers today. We’ll be on our way.”

“Wait!” she could hear Caleb shouting. “I’m Captain Morgan!”

To cover his words, Megan bumped against the washtub that hung on the porch and it fell with a deafening clatter. The soldiers’ horses shied away. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve always been clumsy.” She made more noise as she wrestled the tub back onto its peg.

When she turned around the men were riding away. Megan hurried into the house and sighed with relief as she shoved the bolt in place on the door. She leaned her forehead against the wood and closed her eyes. That had been too close. If she had been a bit slower, they would have found her precious cache of meat and it was only luck that they hadn’t discovered Caleb.

“You can quit shouting. They’ve gone,” she called to him as she went to the pump to wash her hands.

“Get in here!” he commanded. “You kept them from hearing me on purpose!”

“Of course I did! Do you take me for a fool?” She pushed open the bedroom door and frowned back at him. “You’re my prisoner. I’m not giving you up until I can trade you for Seth.”

“They might have known where to find a doctor! Not one of those army sawbones, but a real doctor.”

“More likely they would have put you on one of their horses and you’d have bled to death before they reached Raintree. You couldn’t travel if you tried!”

“At least I would be with my own army!”

She glared at him. “Is it better to die with your army, with strangers, than to stay here and be doctored back to health and traded? I think not. Certainly it wouldn’t serve me as well.”

“What about me?” he demanded.

“You’re my prisoner,” she said loudly and slowly so it would sink in. “I’m not giving you up until it suits me.”

He was still arguing but she closed the door. This was turning out to be more difficult than she had originally supposed.

She put a bit of the horse meat on to boil for supper, then went to the back room. This was farther from the road and had a door that could be latched. She had wondered at the time why her father had fitted a latch on it, but now she was glad he had. He had said it might come in handy. She hoped he would never guess in what way. Not until she had Seth home safely.

Her pallet lay in the middle of the floor, its covers neatly in place. What would it take to make a proper bed out of it?

With a great deal of difficulty, Megan managed to maneuver four kegs from the barn into the back room. Then she went out to the smokehouse. Taking a hammer, she knocked the pins from the hinges and dragged the door back to the house. It was long past dark by the time she finished. With all her muscles aching, she pulled the pallet up onto the door and braced all of it in the corner. It was pretty sturdy. Would it be strong enough to hold a man Caleb’s size? There was only one way to find out.

She went back into the bedroom and caught the wrist of his good arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.

“You’re moving. I’m not sharing my bed with you anymore.” She pulled him up and helped him swing his feet over the side. “Wrap the quilt around you,” she said as she drew his good arm over her shoulders. “Stand up.”

Caleb did as she told him, though she knew he must have questions. He was as heavy as she remembered, but he at least tried to hop on his good leg. It was no easy job getting him into the back room, but at last he was leaning against the makeshift bed. “This is your room.”

“Why?”

“Because I can lock this door.” She helped him sit on the bed and was glad to see that it remained in place. She looked up at his face and saw he was sweating from the pain but he hadn’t cried out. “I’ll soon have you some stew to eat.”

As she was about to leave, he caught her wrist. “You should have given me to the soldiers.”

She looked into his eyes. In the dimness of the room they were almost as black as his hair. He seemed so male and so large when she had to look up to see his face. “Lie down,” she said as she hastily moved away.

As she scooped stew into her gourd dipper, she reflected that he was right. It might have been better to let the soldiers find him. She was almost afraid of what she was already thinking about him and feeling for him, and he had only been there a few days. How would he affect her by the time he had been there long enough to heal?