Authors: Susan Macatee
Damn. Why had this happened? She was a journalist. Now, she was reduced to doing laundry in a washtub. This wasn’t fair. If this were a dream, at least she’d have the hope of waking up. But this wasn’t a dream. For some unknown reason, she was stuck here.
Once the water had fully heated, she lifted the pot from the grate and entered her tent, where she had a pan, linen towel, and a bar of castile soap laid out.
After removing her dress, petticoats, and stockings, she pulled the chemise over her head. She loosened and dropped her drawers, then sponged herself off, allowing the warm, soapy water to refresh and soothe her. Gratefully, she inhaled the relaxing warmth, trying to ease her discomfort. But this was no substitute for the hot shower she craved. She didn’t even like to go camping. And here she was trapped in a century that didn’t have electricity or running water. Even a modern toilet would be welcome.
Instead of relaxing her, the sponge bath caused more agitation. She worked the linen washrag over her legs and grimaced at the hair covering her calves. Women didn’t shave in this time period, yet when she’d undressed her first day here, she’d found the amount of hair on her underarms and legs alarming. Even knowing her clothing would hide the hair didn’t content her.
She
knew it existed.
But she’d decided to resign herself since the only razor existing in this time period was the straight edge. She hated to think of what that would do to her skin. Plus, her leg hair wasn’t coarse, it was fine and silky.
While she washed, she recalled her meeting with Captain Montgomery’s sister. She’d known from her prior research he’d been a widower since just after the war started and he had a daughter, but the sight of the auburn-haired child had startled her. His stern expression had evaporated when he’d seen Amanda—definitely a doting father.
After drying herself, she slipped a clean cotton chemise over her head. She reached for the paisley, robe-like garment she’d found hanging in her tent, the one Brigid had called a wrapper. Before she could slide her arm into the sleeve, a shadow against the canvas startled her. She froze and stared at a man’s silhouette. Too late, she realized she’d forgotten to tie up the flap.
Frantically, she scanned the interior for a weapon. She reached for the candleholder, but before she could grasp it, Jake pushed his way inside.
His face was flushed. She smelled whiskey on his breath. He waved a half-empty bottle in front of her. “Bring out your mugs,” he slurred. He set the bottle on her table, tipping it so it fell and dripped amber liquid onto her rug.
Alarmed he’d appeared here again in this condition, she lifted her wrapper to shield herself when he retrieved the bottle. “I apologize, Miss Erin, for my clumsiness.” He swayed before her, grinning.
Her heart thudded, and she tried to reason out what to do. She wouldn’t put it past this bastard to force himself on her in his inebriated state. No matter what it took, she had to get him out of here
now
.
His eyes widened when he took in her state of undress. “I see you’re all ready for me.”
“No,” she stated. “I’m going to sleep now.”
“You promised me,” he said harshly. “You’ll give me what I want, woman.” Grabbing her forearm, he tried to wrench the wrapper from her.
She pushed and knocked him off balance. She wasn’t about to be pinned down by him, again. Rushing past him, she slid through the tent opening. He grabbed her by the wrist and tightened his grip when she tried to wrench free.
“What’s going on here?”
Erin glanced up into Captain Montgomery’s eyes as he sprinted to her side.
Straining, she tried to loosen Jake’s grip. His arm was half-way out of the flap, hand still circled around her wrist. Montgomery grabbed Jake’s hand and pried it from her arm. She moved aside, and he yanked the sergeant out.
Jake’s mouth flew open when he saw who had hold of him.
“I told you to stay away from her, Wagner.”
“But sir...she owes me.”
“I don’t care what she owes you. I don’t want to catch you laying your filthy hands on the lady again. The next time I see you anywhere near her, I’ll put you on report.”
“Yes, sir.” When the captain released his grip on Jake, he scurried off as fast as he could move without looking back.
Erin watched him go, then met the gaze of her rescuer. Only then did she realize she still wore her chemise and nothing else. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ma’am, I suggest you go inside. And I would advise you not to be inviting drunken men into your tent.”
“I didn’t invite him.” Her face flushed at his accusation. “He forced his way in.”
The captain looked her over, but said nothing.
Erin flung back her tent flap and slipped inside. She watched Will Montgomery’s broad back as he strode away in the early twilight, wondering what kind of woman he thought she was.
Chapter Eight
The next morning after Erin dressed and prepared for another grueling day of washing laundry, Captain Montgomery surprised her with a visit.
Great
. She noted the bundle in his arms.
He’s bringing more dirty clothes for me to wash
. The sight of him dressed in a gray jacket that fell just below his lean hips, over tan trousers and a gray cap perched on his chocolate brown hair, made her breath catch. Her pulse raced as the reality before her converged with the dreams she’d had.
Had her subconscious mind known him? She’d never seen his photo until Grandma Rose had shown it to her. But she’d known him in her dreams. In the months before her impending wedding, the dreams had become more vivid and intimate. Even though this man was a stranger, she felt she’d known him all her life.
He removed his cap and stopped just outside the edge of the tarp she sat under. “Ma’am.”
She nodded, for her vocal chords were too taut to speak.
“I wanted to apologize for invading your privacy last night.” A blush crept up his lightly tanned cheeks. “I can’t abide any man harming a woman, even if the two are related or even wed.”
She gazed up into his dark eyes. Up close they were a deep, chocolate brown. He was so damned attractive in that uniform. Clearing her throat, she found her voice. “I appreciate what you did, Captain. That man’s been harassing me.”
“I suspected as much. Wagner doesn’t seem to know how to be respectful to a woman.”
She had trouble finding the words to reply. The aroma of sandalwood and his unique masculine scent that had floored her when he’d carried her into Doc’s tent left her flabbergasted.
“I’d warned Wagner to stay away from you,” he said.
“He was so drunk, I don’t think any warning would have stopped him.”
“He didn’t hurt you—”
She shook her head, noting the concern in his eyes. “All I could think to do was get out of the tent.”
“That was wise, ma’am.”
She glanced at the bundle he still held. “Are those for me?”
He grinned. “If you don’t mind, ma’am. I have two shirts that need washing.”
“My pleasure.” When he handed her the clothes, their hands briefly touched. Electricity shot through her. She caught his gaze.
His eyes widened. He swallowed and backed away a few steps, then tipped his cap.
“Ma’am.” He turned away.
She watched him cross the camp and disappear from sight. If a reason existed for her coming to this time period, it had to be Will Montgomery. But why had this happened? Would she ever go back to her old life, or was she stuck here forever?
Although she’d tried to hold her emotions in check, the tension that had been building for the last few days caused her eyes to burn at the prospect. A sob built at the back of her throat. She dropped the clothing she’d been sorting in the basket and scurried into the privacy of her tent.
****
When Will returned to his tent, he found one of his soiled shirts hanging on a stool outside.
May as well get this one washed, too
. The thought of seeing Mrs. O’Connell again so soon brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t had any reason to smile for the past two years.
Amanda was the only bright spot in his life, now. But sometimes, she reminded him too much of her mother, Anne. One look at that cherubic face and the hurt would come back as strong as the day he’d lost his wife to pneumonia. After two years, guilt from not being with her when she passed still consumed him.
Since her death, he’d found the army to be pure escape, until the death of his younger brother. Living in the large house they’d shared with his parents and Jenny, as well as Amanda, made it impossible to move forward. The place was a daily reminder of all he’d lost.
Now, he found himself in danger of becoming attracted to a woman he hardly knew and was likely involved with another man. His loneliness had caused him to fall for the first, pretty face available. If he were smart, he’d keep his distance from the woman, but seeing her threatened proved too much to ignore.
He started back to her tent, steeling himself to keep his emotions in check. He only needed her laundering services and planned to deliver the shirt and leave.
Mrs. O’Connell wasn’t outside her tent where he’d left her. Perhaps she’d gone inside or left on an errand. He hesitated, trying to decide what to do, but heard a stifled sound from inside the tent. He drew near the canvas and listened. The muffled sound of sniffles turned to sobs. It had to be Mrs. O’Connell. Should he intrude? He considered leaving the shirt outside, but the thought of her alone, crying her heart out, was too much for him. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled the tent flap and peered inside. Mrs. O’Connell sat on her bunk, her face buried in her apron.
“Ma’am?”
She glanced up and quickly wiped her flushed face. “Yes?” Her voice cracked.
He eased his way into the tent. “I beg your pardon for the intrusion, but I heard you and feared Sergeant Wagner may have come back and hurt you.”
She shook her head, then turned away as if embarrassed.
“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean...” He lifted the soiled shirt he held. “I forgot this.”
She turned toward him. “Just leave it...” Her face crumpled. More tears dropped from beneath reddened eyelids.
“Ma’am?” He set the shirt on her table and stepped to where she sat, reaching his hand out to rest on her slender shoulder. He felt an overwhelming need to protect this woman, but being here in her tent was highly improper. He’d be wise to take his leave.
Now.
Her slim frame heaved beneath his hand. He couldn’t leave her in this state. “Tell me how I can help you.”
She shook her head. “No one can help me.” Her lower lip quivered.
His heart twisted. He’d avoided women since Anne had died. He wouldn’t allow himself to be hurt like that again. But the sight of this woman alone and in tears broke through his resolve. He dropped to one knee drawing one of her small hands into his.
Wrapping his other arm around her, he pulled her against his chest. She reached an arm around his back clutching him as if her life depended on it and sobbed into his shirt. He allowed her to cry a few minutes more. Her enticing scent and the feel of the soft feminine bosom pressed against him set his pulse racing.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, handing it to her.