Three drinks in, he waved the barkeep over. “Another, sir?” he asked.
“How about, you crack open a fresh bottle.” James dropped an extra coin on the bar. “And stop watering my shit down.”
The barkeep pulled a fresh bottle from under the bar and cracked open the seal. Filling James’s glass, he left the bottle sitting in front of him.
“Where can I get a room when I’m done here?” James drained the glass. The whiskey burned, cascading down the back of his throat.
The good stuff.
He refilled the glass.
“Honey, you can share my room.” A tall brunette settled herself on the stool next to him as he tilted the glass back again.
James looked her over.
Not bad. I’ve done worse.
Not Tamsyn.
“Here, let me refill it for you.” She offered him a smile and refilled his glass. When her arms reached across the bar, he could see down the loose front of her dress.
“Thank you.” He accepted the drink from her hands.
“They call me Sally.” She turned in the stool to face him.
“James.” He tilted the glass back.
“Must be trying to forget a girl.” She took the glass. Her hand slid from his knee up his thigh. “I can help you a lot more than the whiskey can.”
He lost his focus when Sally’s hands cupped his balls under the bar. His hand encircled her wrist before she could move further.
“I prefer the whiskey,” he growled.
“Leave the man alone, Sally.”
Someone took the seat on the other side of him.
“Offering to take his place, Davis?” She lifted an eyebrow and shot a frustrated look over James’s shoulder. “Surely you’re tired of the little wife by now. She looks so much like a man. Don’t you want to feel a real woman beneath you?”
“Go on, Sally. The man said he isn’t interested.” Davis turned in the stool.
“Thank you.” James nodded.
The whore pouted and moved away.
“Sally’s just trying to make a little coin the only way she knows how.” Davis moved the whiskey bottle out of James’s reach. “So is there something wrong with my sister?”
James clenched his jaw. “There is nothing wrong with her,” James replied after several moments of silence. He rolled the whiskey still in the glass.
“So why are you here?” Davis leaned his arms onto the bar.
James tilted the glass back and drained the last drop of whiskey. “How did you know I was here?”
“Funny thing about war,” Davis started. His tone serious. “It makes you notice things other people don’t see. Branches moving when there’s no wind, a spot of black mixed with the orange in the tree.”
“All you have to say is you saw me.” James’s speech slurred as the whiskey moved into his bloodstream.
“I saw you. There’s someone outside who would like to speak with you.” Davis dropped down off the stool. A small bounced to his step from the peg.
James weaved to his feet. Davis reached out to steady him.
“Please tell me it’s not Tamsyn.” James staggered toward the door, putting one foot in front of the other.
“Tamsyn didn’t see you.” Davis held the door open.
James stumbled out into the chilled night air. He found the wagon sitting in front of the saloon. He weaved closer to it, careful not to trip.
“So, you’re the one.” A slender woman with silver hair stared down at him from her seat in the wagon. Her back was straight and her hands were tucked in her lap beneath a blanket.
“This is him, Mama.” Davis moved to stand behind James.
“Tam always did have a soft spot for good-looking fools.” Mrs. Hart rolled her lips. Anger flashed in her eyes.
Several moments passed and James shifted. “Ma’am, is there something you would like to say to me?” His attempt at being polite was laughable. “I would appreciate you getting on with it so I may return to my drink inside.”
“Oh, young man, I have nothing to say to you.” James cringed. “I simply wanted to look at the face of the man who disgraced my daughter.”
Something about the way she spoke rubbed against James’s drunken mind. He knew she was saying something important but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Come along, Dave. We have guests to attend to.” Mrs. Hart turned her gaze away from James. “Leave the Yankee scum in the street. He is not fit for our family.” She flickered one last glance at James. “He is not fit for Tamsyn or the child.”
James turned to Davis, still unsteady on his feet. “If that’s all, I will see myself back inside the saloon.”
Davis’ hand gripped his shoulder. Through the fog he was spun around. Davis’ fist made contact with James’s jaw and he flew through the air.
What the hell?
“Umpf.” James landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. He groaned and rolled onto his back. The star-filled black sky spun over him.
“What the hell?” James groaned and reached to touch his jaw.
“Get up.” Davis reached for James’s hand and hauled him off the ground.
“What the hell?” James pushed Davis’ hands away and stepped back.
“I’ve wanted to do that since Appomattox. It felt good.” Davis nodded.
James moved his jaw.
“Why did you come all the way to Tennessee…all the way to the farm…and just walk away?” Davis took a step toward James. “Just to walk away without talking to anyone. To Tamsyn.” He clenched his fists by his side. “Especially to Tamsyn.”
“Because she looked
happy
,” James slurred. “The last thing I wanted to do was cause her more unhappiness. Ruin whatever peace she has.”
Davis stared at James. “Happy? Are you blind, Yankee?” Davis shook his head. “I guess you hit your head pretty damn hard.” He looked up at the sky.
“The last thing her new husband needs to have is an old lover showing up,” James slurred on.
“Husband?”
“I saw the man put his arms around her.” James stumbled toward the saloon.
“Get in the wagon, Steele.” Davis grabbed James by the arm and redirected his steps. “You have to talk to her.”
“Davis, what are you doing?” Mrs. Hart asked.
Davis pushed James into the seat next to her.
“He saw Tamsyn with her husband,” Davis said to her.
“What?” Mrs. Hart leaned away from the whiskey stench of the man forced into the middle. “Davis, this isn’t right. You should just let him leave. Tamsyn has been through enough.”
“We can sober you up at the creek,” Davis said to James.
“Davis, you can’t take him back there,” Mrs. Hart insisted.
“Mama, he has to go back.” Davis clucked the horses into movement.
James weaved between the two of them. The wagon bounced along and started the steep incline into the mountains. He listened to them argue over him for a while before the whiskey fuzzed his mind out.
“Steele, wake up.”
Bitter cold water hit James in the face. He gasped. His mind began to form profanity and his mouth opened to let it out.
“Dammit! What the hell!?” James’s eyes opened and tried to focus on the culprit in front of him. His eyes narrowed. He found Davis Hart standing over him grinning. The events of earlier flooding into his mind and he let out a loud groan.
“Be quiet.” Davis handed James a tin cup of hot coffee. “Mother slipped back inside. She wants no part of my plan.”
James accepted the coffee while his eyes watched Davis. “You aren’t intending on drowning me in the creek, are you?”
“If I were going to murder you, I would’ve done it in the street in town so someone else would have to dispose of your body.” Davis’s tone was matter-of-fact. He tossed James a towel. “Dry off.”
“Good to know,” James murmured. “The coffee tastes like shit.” He rubbed his face dry.
“I thought that’s how you liked it.” Davis crossed his arms over his chest. “Seems that was how you took your coffee in the camp.”
James tossed the watered down coffee onto the ground. “Is this plan going to end with her husband murdering me for you?”
Davis grinned. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “But no.” He shifted so he could watch the house. “Truth be told,
General
Steele, I don’t like you much right now.”
James rubbed his jaw where he was certain a bruise blossomed.
The feeling is definitely mutual, damn rebel.
“But you’re going to talk to my sister. Even if I have to go find the rifle and hold it to your damn head to make it happen.” Davis shifted. His eyes remained on the house. “Now, Tamsyn always steps outside. The house gets hot with all the people and she can’t breathe.” He tossed James a glance over his shoulder. “When she comes out on the porch is your chance. I can keep everyone inside.”
James fought a shudder.
“Now,” Davis whispered.
James heard the front door slam shut. Davis took off across the side yard toward the house. James frowned.
The man is fast to have only one leg.
He followed Davis. He could hear the soft humming from the front porch even before he reached it.
The same tune I heard her sing in Virginia.
“Tam, you feel okay?” Davis hurried toward her.
Her hands rested on her back. She stood on the top step with her eyes closed.
James’s frown deepened. Deep circles framed her eyes and despite the baby that swelled her stomach, she was too thin.
“Yeah, Dave. It just gets so hot in the house.” She smiled.
James’s heart raced.
“For the first time, I wish the snow would hurry.”
Davis tossed a look at James before he climbed the steps. “Take your time, Tam.” Davis kissed his sister on her cheek.
James waited until Davis pulled the door closed behind him before he stepped closer to the porch. “Hello, Tamsyn.”
****
Tamsyn’s eyes flew open and she jerked back. Her eyes landed on the man standing at the bottom of the steps. Damp hair clung to his forehead. Dark hazel eyes watched her. She clutched her hands to her sides. The urge to brush away that one lock of hair rode over her.
“You’re a ghost.” She backed away. She’d spent the last six months trying to forget his face.
“No, not a ghost.” James ascended the first step.
He looked the same as he did the day she left. “Why are you here?” Her voice shook. The baby inside her rolled in response to her sudden nervousness. She clutched at her stomach with one hand.
“I came because of you.” He took another step up. His suit clung to him, damp.
“Why are you wet?” Her knees bumped against the rocker.
He dropped his head. “Your brother doused me with water.” He brought his head up and his gaze found hers.
“Why?”
“I was drunk,” he admitted with another step onto the porch.
She bit her bottom lip and tasted blood.
Should I tell him?
“You look…”
She forced a bitter laugh. “Well?”
She was very aware of how she looked. She’d found herself sick for six months. Nothing seemed to stay down. Sleep continued to elude her. In the first few months she was plagued with nightmares. Her body swelled with the child inside her. Deep bruising circles ran under her eyes. She dropped into the rocker. Exhausted.
“What do you want, James?” She closed her eyes.
“Does he treat you well?” he asked from his post at the top of the steps.
“Who?”
Is my mind going along with my body?
“Your husband.”
She opened one eye and looked at him. “Did Davis hit you over the head too?”
His jaw began to tick and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No, the jaw.”
She laughed. “Where on earth did you get the idea I was married?” She opened both eyes and straightened. “Did Davis tell you that?”
His gaze caressed over her body like a hand and she shivered. His gaze stopped on her swollen belly and he shrugged. “I assumed since…”
Her lips stretched into a thin line over her face. “I am not married.” She began to rock. The soothing motion often quieted the rolling child inside her.
“Oh.” He shifted. “The man who put his arms around you this afternoon…”
“You were here this afternoon?” Her heart fluttered. She tried to push the tiniest ray of hope that tugged at her heart away.
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you come to the house then?”
Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe once he saw me, he realized he didn’t care for me.
“I saw him put his arms…around you. I-I saw you. I didn’t want to cause you any problems. It seemed you found happiness.”
She rubbed her stomach and continued to rock. Her eyes never left his face. “James, the baby is yours.”
He stumbled forward. “What?”
She frowned. “I don’t need to repeat myself. You heard me.” She stopped rocking.
“Why didn’t you get word to me?”
She arched an eyebrow. “How did you put it? You seemed to have found happiness.” Her voice carried the sarcasm her body was too tired to feel. “How was the wedding, by the way?”
“I broke the engagement.”
“I’m surprised Miss Amory didn’t have your legs broken.” She smiled at the thought. “Hmm, perhaps Davis would do that for me.”
The two were silent. A chilling breeze carried across the porch and Tamsyn sighed with relief. The heated flush subsided. She’d known the breeze would come. She just needed to wait for it.
“I’m sorry, Tamsyn.” He forced himself to move forward and kneel in front of where she sat in the rocker.
“For what, exactly?” she snapped.
“Everything.” He reached to touch her hand where it rested on the arm of the rocker.
She jerked her hand back. “For what? Exactly.”
He nodded. She needed to hear specifics. “For lying to you. For causing you embarrassment. For hurting you.” He glanced up just in time to see the tears sparkle in her eyes before she closed them. “Most of all for hurting you.”
“Why did you come here?”
“For you.” He smiled. His gaze landed on her stomach. “Abigail and George expect you at their wedding in a month.”
“I am surprised they waited so long.”
“George had a few business dealings to wrap up in New York. I promised them I would return with you in time for the wedding.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” The smell of whiskey reached her nose. Her stomach churned in response. “James, move!”