Forbidden Secrets (3 page)

Savannah trembled. Hot tears stung her eyes. “Fight for the South, Tyler,” she begged in desperation. “Fight for my home and my family.”

“I must fight for
my
home, Savannah. My loyalty is to the North!”

“And what of your loyalty to
me?”
she demanded angrily.

His features hardened. “I'll marry you today. I'll take you to my home in Massachusetts. Then you and my home will be in the North. My loyalty won't be divided.”

“No. I can't marry you,” Savannah said. “Not now.”

“You will marry me!” he insisted.

Savannah stood her ground. She threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin in defiance. “If I marry you, I'll have to turn my back on the South. I won't do that.”

His face turned red with rage. “I asked you to marry me, Savannah,” he whispered. “You said yes!”

“That was before I knew the truth about you!” she cried. “That was before I knew you would fight for the North. I cannot love someone who will fight to destroy my home and my family. I will
not
love you!”

He balled his hands into fists. “You have no choice. You are already mine!”

“No!” she replied. “If you fight for the North, I won't love you. I will never marry you.”

Fierce anger glinted in his eyes. A cold shiver raced down Savannah's spine.

“I am leaving to fight with the northern army,” he said through gritted teeth. “Come with me now.”

“Never!” Savannah repeated, her heart thudding in her chest. “You are a traitor to my home, my brother's friendship, and our love. I will never marry you!”

Tears blinding her, Savannah ran to the house. She collapsed against one of the marble pillars.

The pain of Tyler's betrayal ripped through her.

How can Tyler fight for the North when I live in the
South? How could he be my love one moment and my enemy the next?

And then she heard the laughter. Victoria's gleeful laughter. Hysterical. Joyful.

“He's leaving, isn't he?” Victoria asked.

Savannah looked up. She saw Tyler riding his black horse down the dirt road, away from Whispering Oaks, away from her.

And her heart shattered into tiny pieces.

Victoria clapped with delight.

She is happy that he is going, Savannah realized. Incredibly happy. Her jealousy is so apparent. She can't have Tyler, and now she knows I won't have him either.

Savannah saw Tyler bring his horse to an abrupt halt. He jerked the stallion around. He galloped back toward the house. Dust clouded up around him.

He's coming back, Savannah thought joyfully. He's coming back to me! He will take me in his arms and everything will be all right.

Tyler drew the horse to a halt before her. The stallion's black coat was wet and shiny. Savannah could smell the animal's sweat, feel its warm breath as it struggled for air.

Savannah stepped forward and lifted her gaze to Tyler's. His blue eyes still seethed with anger. His handsome face was twisted with fury and hatred.

Tyler reared his horse up so it pranced on its hind legs.

Savannah stumbled back and wrapped her arms around the white marble pillar.

“Mark my words, Savannah Gentry!” Tyler threatened. “I am a man who keeps his promises!”

His horse's hooves hit the ground. Tyler leaned over until his face was even with Savannah's. Icy dread clamped around her heart.

“You will regret choosing the South over me!” Tyler snarled. “I swear it!”

Blackrose Manor

T
he old woman shuddered at the memory.

So vivid. As though it had all happened yesterday.

She could still hear Tyler's words echoing over the plantation. She could still see Tyler galloping down the dirt road, away from Whispering Oaks.

With a gnarled finger she plucked a rose from a nearby bush. She ripped off a black petal and tossed it into the air. She watched as it floated slowly to the ground.

“Savannah loved him,” she said in a raspy voice.

She tugged another petal free and dropped it. It drifted down and settled near her feet.

“Savannah loved him not.”

She plucked another petal.

“Savannah loved him.”

And another petal.

“Savannah loved him not.”

Over and over the old woman plucked a petal and repeated the words.

Finally, all but one of the rose petals lay scattered on the ground.

The old woman held the last petal in her hand and studied it.

“Savannah loved him.” She cackled. “No matter how many roses I pick, no matter how many petals I pluck, the last petal always reveals the truth—Savannah loved Tyler Fier.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, but she could not ward off the chill in the air. She could not protect herself from the truth. She could not stop herself from remembering.

Everyone knew Savannah's heart broke when Tyler rode away to fight with the Union Army.

But during a war many things broke, the old woman thought. Many things changed.

“Our father's cotton fields became battlefields,” the old woman remembered wistfully. “The slaves ran north to freedom. Our parents died.”

Wearing a soft smile, the old woman gazed at her sister's grave. “We had only each other,” she whispered in a voice that sounded like sandpaper on wood. “Savannah and Victoria. We were left alone at Whispering Oaks.

“Do you remember, dear sister, how frightened we were? How hungry? How worried?”

Tears filled the old woman's eyes.

“But we survived, you and I. Together we survived. And we became so close again. The way we were when we were small children. We began to tell each other
everything. Our fears. Our hopes. Our dreams. Sometimes you even talked about Tyler.”

With a sigh, the old woman closed her eyes, remembering past conversations. Savannah wanted—needed—to talk about Tyler.

And Victoria listened.

Savannah knew that Tyler betrayed her love. But still she feared for him.

Savannah wondered if she would ever see Tyler again.

She wanted to tell Tyler that she still loved him.

She needed to tell Tyler that she loved him.

As the months of the war dragged into years, Savannah's desperation grew.

Chapter

5

Whispering Oaks
Summer 1863

S
avannah walked across the old vegetable garden. “I'll look here,” she said to Victoria. “You look over there.”

We will not go hungry tonight, Savannah promised herself. We won't. She sank down on the warm soil and began searching through the withered cornstalks and blackened tomato plants. I have to find us something to eat.

Savannah glanced over at Victoria. Her sister's dress hung loosely over her body. We both look like scarecrows, Savannah realized. She ran her fingers over her frayed skirt. Our clothes have become rags.

How will we survive until Zachariah returns? Without the slaves, we can't grow cotton. And without cotton we can't earn any money.

A cannon rumbled in the distance, interrupting
Savannah's thoughts. The earth trembled beneath her. Savannah heard Victoria give a startled cry.

Savannah looked over at her sister. Victoria huddled near the ground, her eyes wide and frightened. “It's all right, Victoria,” Savannah said gently. “The battle is far away.”

“Are you certain?” Victoria asked.

“I'm certain.”

Poor Victoria, Savannah thought. The cannons frighten her so. Day after day they pound the earth.

Savannah sat back on her heels. She remembered a time when Victoria comforted her. When Savannah was a little girl, thunder terrified her. She would sneak into her big sister's bed whenever there was a storm.

How strange, Savannah thought. Now I am the one comforting Victoria. Telling her not to be afraid of loud noises.

Savannah dug her fingers into the dirt. Searching for hidden vegetables. But she found nothing. Her stomach rumbled.

I won't be able to protect Victoria from starvation, Savannah thought. Then she shook her head. Do not think the worst, she scolded herself. We will survive. We will!

“Savannah!” Victoria cried. “Savannah, come quickly!”

Savannah jerked her head up. She could see Victoria pulling something from the earth and working feverishly to fill the bowl in front of her.

Food! Savannah realized. At last we will have something to eat!

“Hurry!” Victoria called out.

Savannah struggled to her feet. She hurried across
the garden and knelt down in the dirt beside her sister. Victoria's face was hollow and drawn, but her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

Savannah peered into the wooden bowl. She saw a rotting potato and two tiny shriveled carrots.

And she saw the worms.

Fat and juicy, they crawled up one side of the potato and rolled down the other side, falling into a squirming heap.

“We'll save the carrots for dessert,” Victoria said.

“For dessert?” Savannah asked. Burning bile rose up in her throat. I can't do this, she thought.

Victoria nodded and pulled a worm out of the bowl. The slimy creature dangled between her fingers. She extended it toward Savannah. “You can eat first,” Victoria said.

Savannah's stomach ached with hunger. Would you rather eat a worm or starve? she asked herself.

Savannah opened her mouth and dropped her head back. She watched as Victoria's fingers grew nearer. The long, purple worm wiggled and squirmed.

And then it fell.

Fell into Savannah's waiting mouth and slid down her throat.

Chapter

6

T
hat night Savannah snuggled beneath the down-filled comforter. For the first time in weeks, she was not hungry. Victoria and I will survive, Savannah thought as she closed her eyes. We will do what we have to do, eat what we have to eat, and we will survive. Satisfied, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

Bump.

A noise startled her awake.

Savannah struggled to open her eyes. Pale moonlight spilled through the window. What was that sound? she wondered.

Savannah heard the noise again.

Bump.

Thump.

What is it?

Bump.

Thump.

Savannah's heart pounded. She heard footsteps in the hallway. Then something scraped across the floor.

Savannah's mouth went dry. She scrambled out of bed.

Her doorknob rattled—then turned.

Savannah's breath caught in her chest.

The door hinges squealed as the door slowly opened. A tall man stood in the shadowy doorway.

“Who are you?” Savannah demanded, her voice shaking.

The man took a step toward her with his right foot and dragged his left foot behind him.

Step. Drag. Step. Drag.

He turned toward Savannah. The moonlight hit his face.

Savannah's eyes widened with recognition. “Zachariah!”

Gunpowder covered her brother's tattered gray uniform, his face, his hair. The odor burned Savannah's nostrils.

Zachariah's ashen face was grim. His once-vibrant green eyes were dark and vacant. His blond hair matted with sweat and dirt.

And blood!

Savannah's eyes darted to the gaping bullet hole in Zach's head. Dark blood oozed from the wound, glistening in the moonlight.

“Oh, Zachariah! No!” Savannah cried. “You've been hurt!” She reached for her brother. But he stepped away.

“Let me help you,” Savannah pleaded.

He shook his head. His lips quivered as he fought to speak. Savannah could see his throat working.

“What is it, Zachariah?” she asked. “What is it you want to tell me?”

He opened his mouth, opened his mouth to speak.

And deep red blood spilled from his lips.

Chapter

7