Read Surrender to the Fury Online

Authors: Connie Mason

Surrender to the Fury (27 page)

“Are you ready yet?” Regina appeared in the doorway, tapping her foot impatiently. “Father has a room reserved especially for you at the hospital. You’ll remain until you are fit to travel and can be sent north to recuperate properly. I took the liberty of sending Sergeant Jones upstairs for your belongings. He said he knew which room was yours.”

His face contorted in pain and anguish, Nick nodded. He took a step, faltered, and Regina rushed to his side. “Oh, you poor dear, let me help you.”

Aimee turned away, unable to watch the possessive way in which Nick’s fiancée took control, as if the right were hers alone. How fortunate for Nick that his fiancée just happened to be the daughter of a general. In Aimee’s opinion, Nick Drummond was an opportunist who took unfair advantage of every situation. Nick hesitated at the doorway, turned as if to speak to Aimee, thought better of it, and continued through the door.

Nick, Regina, and their escort were gone a full ten minutes before Aimee moved. It might have been longer if Brand and Savannah hadn’t come into the kitchen. As usual, Brand was full of questions.

“Why did Nick leave, Mama?”

“Because he had to. You knew he would leave one day.”

“Did he want to leave?”

“He needed proper care by a proper doctor.”

“Who was that lady?”

Silence.

“Mama, I didn’t like her; who was she?”

“The woman Nick is going to marry, darling.”

Brand chewed on that for a while, then said with the innocence of a five-year-old, “Nick likes you better. Why can’t he marry you? Then he would be my father.”

Aimee tried to speak past the lump in her throat. How do you tell a child that the man he adores is a liar and a scoundrel? The answer was simple. You don’t.

“Nick and I … well, Regina Blakewell is more suited to him.”

“Nick said he would come back. Do you think he will?”

“No, son, I don’t,” Aimee said, not wishing to give hope where none existed.

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“So am I, darling, so am I.” Subdued, Brand left the kitchen.

“I ain’t gonna say nothin’, honey,” Savannah said. “You’re already sufferin’ enough. I thought dat man truly cared for you.”

“Nick had no choice; he had to go with Regina. He had orders stating he was to report to the hospital in Atlanta.” Why was she defending him?

“Uh huh, but he shoulda told you he was gonna marry up with another woman.”

“I had no hold on him.”

“What about Brand? De man suspects he’s Brand’s papa.”

“He can speculate all he wants. No one will ever know Brand isn’t Beauregard Trevor’s child.”

Nick dozed most of the way to Atlanta. He was exhausted both emotionally and physically. No explanation he had offered seemed to placate Aimee. How easily she had reverted back to her old opinion of him, he thought bitterly. The fact that they had come to care for each other during these past months seemed to make little difference to her. His small omission concerning Regina had all but destroyed what he’d accomplished thus far with Aimee. Though she had little reason to trust him after the disaster of their first meeting, he had brought her to a place in their relationship where he thought she had forgiven him. He had intended to ask her to marry him once he’d broken his engagement to Regina.

And he wasn’t proposing because he suspected Brand was his son. No, indeed. He wanted Aimee even if Brand were Beauregard Trevor’s son. When had he fallen in love with Aimee? he wondered bleakly. The answer came to him in a flash. He’d always loved Aimee. He loved her the moment he saw her seated at the poker table, he loved her when he went back later to search for her, and he loved her all those years when he thought he’d never see her again. He’d only proposed marriage to Regina to save his career—and no hope existed of ever finding Aimee again.

“We’re almost there, Nick,” Regina said, nudging him gently. “I know you’re in pain now, but Father has arranged for you to have the best care
available. I’ll even accompany you north when you’re well enough to travel.”

“Regina, we must talk. There isn’t going to be a marriage. We should have never become engaged. When your father discovered us, I took the coward’s way out and proposed. I realized that one word from him could make or break my career. I wasn’t marrying you out of love. Someday you’ll find a man who truly loves you.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” Regina scolded. She sounded annoyed but not overly concerned, which puzzled Nick.

“Don’t you understand what I’m telling you? Our engagement is off. It wouldn’t be honest to marry a woman I don’t love.”

“Oh, pooh, Nick, I’m not taking anything you say seriously. I know the strain and stress you’ve been under since being wounded in battle, but in time you’ll recover and realize it’s in your best interest for us to marry. I’ll make a wonderful wife, and Father can do wonders for your career.”

“Of course you’ll make a wonderful wife, Regina, but not my wife.”

The carriage made slow progress down streets strewn with rubble, and Nick’s attention strayed to the terrible destruction wrought by the war.

“I had no idea it was this bad,” Nick said when he noted how few civilians remained in the devastated city.

“Food is scarce,” Regina revealed, “but Father said trains are arriving sporadically with supplies to feed our troops left behind to hold the city.”

The carriage ground to a halt before a large building. “We’re here at the hospital,” Regina said. Then the door opened and Sergeant Jones helped
Nick down from the carriage. “I’ll see you inside, darling.”

“No need, Regina. Thanks for your trouble, but I’ll be all right now.”

“Trouble? Since when is it trouble to help someone you love? I’ll be by to see you tomorrow.”

Too weary to argue, Nick merely nodded.

General Blakewell beamed down at Nick. “I hope you didn’t mind Regina going along with the escort yesterday. Women in love and all that nonsense. You know how it is. But seriously, Captain, we’re just glad to have you among the living. Dr. Bellows tells me your wound was one of the most serious he’s ever seen. Thank God you were treated promptly.”

“Thank God and a woman named Aimee,” Nick muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir, I was just agreeing with you.”

“Harumph. In any case, you’ll be traveling north soon to recuperate. There is an excellent hospital in Washington; does that suit you?”

“As well as any.”

“Good, good. I’m due back in Washington myself soon. Regina and I plan to travel with you. I don’t suppose it will come as any shock that you’ve been promoted to major. No one deserves it more. Regina couldn’t be happier.”

Nick cleared his throat. “About Regina, sir. I don’t believe marriage—”

“Now, now, Cap—er—Major, Regina told me about your little stubborn spell. You’ll feel differently once you’re hale and hearty again. Illness is a damn bore, especially for a man like you. Well,
I must be off now. It’s nearly time for my conference with Colonel Watson.”

Dismayed, Nick fell back against the pillow. The journey from Tall Oaks to Atlanta had sapped his meager strength, and he had barely moved from his hospital bed since arriving yesterday. Though his body was weak, his mind worked overtime fretting over how Aimee and Brand would fare in his absence. Aimee had the money he had given her before he left, but how long would that last? Nick had no idea when he could return to Tall Oaks, and any number of things might happen to a beautiful woman all alone but for a small boy and an elderly black woman.

Owing to General Blakewell’s personal interest in his welfare, Nick was scheduled to be sent north for convalescent leave in a few days. He would ride aboard the special train taking General Blakewell back to Washington. To Nick’s chagrin, Regina made plans to travel with them, but he had little say in the matter. In any case, Nick hoped that during the train ride, he would be able to persuade Regina that breaking their engagement was in her best interest.

“Honey, we gots to go to Atlanta to buy food.” Savannah had been trying to rouse Aimee from her lethargy since Nick had left several days ago. “Now dat we gots money, dere ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ us. I’ll go first thing in the mornin’.”

Her words barely made an impression.

“If dere ain’t no food for Brand, he’ll starve to death.”

That did rouse her.

“What did you say?”

“Captain Drummond left money, didn’t he? I’ll drive de wagon into town tomorrow and see what’s available.”

Aimee nodded her approval and slipped back into her dark thoughts. The thought that Nick only wanted her to satisfy his lust did little for her self-esteem. Perversely she wondered if he had thought about his lovely financée when he had made love to her. She felt that his suspicions that Brand was his son prompted him to tell her that he cared for her. She should have listened to her conscience and never let him breach her heart.

The next day Savannah was unable to rise from bed. She’d always had a touch of rheumatism, and the cooler weather they were having these past few days played havoc with her poor old joints. The medicine the doctor had given her for the ailment had been used long ago, but now that they had a bit of money, Aimee decided to replenish the supply at an apothecary in Atlanta. Of course, that meant she must now make the trip to Atlanta herself.

Aimee left early the following morning. Since she feared leaving Brand with an ailing Savannah, she took him along. The old nag plodded along at a snail’s pace, but eventually they reached the city, this time without mishap. Aimee prayed the nag wouldn’t collapse before they made it back to Tall Oaks that evening. When they passed by the railroad station, Brand let out a shriek and pointed to a group of passengers boarding the train.

“Mama, look!” Aimee slowed the nag and looked in the direction Brand pointed. “It’s Nick, Mama! He’s getting on the train with that woman.”

Aimee’s heart lurched painfully. It was indeed Nick. He still looked pale and somewhat shaky, but he was navigating on his own two feet—with the help of his flame-haired fiancée. So much for his insistence that Regina Blakewell meant nothing to him, Aimee thought furiously. She had known him for a liar and cheat for more years than she cared to count; why did she expect him to change now?

“Can we say good-bye to him, Mama?” Brand asked. “I think he would like that.”

“I think not, darling. It’s best we go on. I want to reach Tall Oaks before dark.”

In his enthusiasm Brand paid no heed to Aimee’s answer as he leaped from the barely moving wagon and ran toward the train, shouting Nick’s name at the top of his voice. Miraculously Nick heard him above the confusion of boarding passengers. A brilliant smile lit his face as he knelt on one knee and held his arms out to the small boy. Aimee watched in mute fury as Brand leaped into Nick’s arms. She had no recourse but to rein in the nag and look on as her son and Nick spoke earnestly together.

“What are you doing in Atlanta?” Nick asked, hoping they had come to see him.

“We came to buy food and get medicine for Savannah’s rheumatism. Are you leaving, Nick?”

His woebegone little face tore at Nick’s heart. He glanced over at Aimee, recognizing her unrelenting anger, her absolute belief that he had used her ruthlessly. Obviously she had no idea how much she meant to him.

“We mustn’t tarry, Nick,” Regina urged, annoyed by the unwelcome appearance of Widow
Trevor and her son. “The train is due to leave momentarily.”

Nick hugged Brand tightly and whispered in his ear, “Take care of your mother for me, son. Tell her—tell her I’ll be back.” Then he rose and quickly boarded the train.

“Ain’t that the same captain who kept us from burning that plantation a while back, Sergeant Purdy?”

Purdy and his mounted patrol were riding past the train station when they happened to see Nick boarding the train for Washington. “Sure is, Corporal,” Purdy said thoughtfully. “Since the captain is leaving, I don’t suppose it matters now if we go back and burn the place. Our instructions were to fire everything left standing in and around Atlanta.”

“What about the widow who owns the place?” the corporal asked, licking his lips in avid anticipation. “She sure is a fine-looking woman.” They had spied Nick boarding the train shortly after Brand had climbed back into the wagon with his mother, so they did not see Aimee in the crush of people.

“She’s a feisty little witch, all right,” Purdy mused. “Mayhap we’ll find out just how feisty.” His lascivious grin needed no interpretation.

Purdy’s statement reflected Sherman’s belief that his troops weren’t only fighting hostile armies but hostile people as well, and that the Union armies must destroy the capacity of the southern people to sustain the war. Their factories, railroads, farms—indeed, their will to resist—must be torn apart. So Sherman’s soldiers put the torch to everything of military value—and much having
nothing to do with the military—in and around Atlanta that Hood had left standing.

It didn’t take Aimee long to discover that food was scarce in the city. Men had left their farms to take up arms, depriving the population of the products they grew. Few truck gardens still produced crops this late in the year, and Sherman had burned fields of cotton and grain in his march to the sea. A few intrepid sea captains had run the blockade successfully, and it was the result of their bravery that stocked the shelves in the stores still operating in the city. Northern goods had just begun to trickle into the impoverished city, going primarily to feed the troops Sherman had left behind to defend Atlanta.

After spending more time than she would have liked trying to purchase staples and medicine for Savannah, Aimee didn’t start back to Tall Oaks until much later than planned. She had been obliged to spend nearly all the money Nick had given her to buy provisions at outrageous prices. But at least she had cornmeal, flour, a bit of sugar, salt, fatback, and some canned staples. She had even found shells for the shotgun. At least now they could continue to hunt for fresh meat. She was a tolerable shot, and so was Savannah.

A crash of thunder rattled the wagon, and Aimee hoped she’d reach Tall Oaks before rain pelted them. At this time of year the rain would be bone-chilling. Thank God she had thought to bring a blanket or two to cover herself and Brand should the need arise.

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