And One Wore Gray (21 page)

She lifted her chin. For every second that they spoke, Daniel gained some advantage. But Eric knew that. A ragged fear swept over her. Seconds were ticking by quickly now. What did he want of her?

“Get him back here,” Eric commanded, his eyes on hers.

She shook her head. “I can’t get him back. He’s gone. You saw the way that he left.”

“Yes, I saw every poignant moment of it—you wretched little whore,” he added softly.

She broke free from him, her fury stronger than his hold. She struck him, swiftly and hard. His face reddened where her fingers had touched it, and she heard the quick intake of breath by one of his men.

His fingers stretched out, entwining into her hair so tightly that she cried out, but softly. Daniel wouldn’t have heard it. He would already be moving across the field by now.

Eric’s taut grip upon her hair pulled her close to him, and his heated whisper touched her ear. “You’re going to go get him right now, Callie. You’re going to say something, anything. You will convince him that he can’t leave until dark. You can promise him—” He hesitated, then lowered his voice even further to tell her exactly what she could promise. Shocked, Callie tried to whirl upon him and hurt him, but she could not. His grip upon her hair was too tight to allow her any movement.

“Bastard!” she hissed at him. “And to think that you were Gregory’s friend—”

“To think that you were his wife!” Eric retorted.

“But it would have been fine if I had chosen you, is that it?”

“Captain,” a young soldier interrupted, “Colonel Cameron is nearly across the cornfield yonder.”

“Go get him. Bring him back here. To your room.”

“Why the hell should I do it?”

“Because if you don’t, I will kill him. I’ll keep my distance from his sword, and I’ll shoot him.”

Callie swallowed hard. Eric meant it.

“You’re afraid of him!” she murmured, “You’re afraid of his sword. Four of you, and you’re afraid to do battle with one Confederate—”

“Not a Confederate, ma’am,” interrupted the young soldier who had spoken before. He cleared his throat nervously, looking at Eric. “Just that particular Confederate. We really don’t want to hurt him, ma’am. We want to capture him. If we can capture him, he won’t have to die.”

“And he will die, Callie, if you don’t go out there and get him,” Eric said.

She wrenched free from his hold. To her surprise, he let her go. His eyes continued to condemn her as he watched her.

“What if I do manage to get him, and bring him back?” Callie demanded. “He’ll still be wearing his sword.”

“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble getting that scabbard off him, will you, Callie? I don’t think that you’ll have any difficulty getting anything off him. How convenient for me.”

“I never knew that you could be so despicable, Eric,” she said icily.

“And I never knew that you could be such a hussy, but that’s rather beside the fact, Callie. This is war.”

“There’s been enough death! Just let him go!”

“You’re trying to kill time, Callie. Don’t waste too much of it. If he’s goes too far, I’ll risk any number of my best sharpshooters to take him down. He’s not just the enemy, Callie. He’s one of the most dangerous.” She still couldn’t move. They were going to try to kill Daniel, and because he had been so concerned with her, they had slipped past all his defenses.

If she didn’t go after Daniel, they would kill him. They wouldn’t give him a chance at all, because they did not dare do so. They would shoot him down, there in the field, and his blood would run with the blood of all the countless others who had perished there.

“If he’s so dangerous, let him go!” she pleaded.

Eric’s eyes narrowed on hers. His mustache quivered
with the wry quirk of his mouth. “Bringing him in could give me the promotion of my career, Mrs. Michaelson. Damn you! Do you know how many Yanks he’s brought down? Or maybe it just doesn’t matter to you anymore. Maybe your father doesn’t matter, maybe your husband has ceased to matter!”

“My husband is dead and buried. And nothing will bring him back!”

“Then realize this. You’ve got three seconds, and if you don’t go racing across the field, I’ll kill him. I’ll have that field so alive with bullets that not even a blade of grass will survive. Do you understand?”

“Let me go,” she told Eric coldly.

He released her instantly. “Run, Mrs. Michaelson,” Eric hissed to her. “Run quickly, before he is too far gone!”

She backed away, staring at Eric. She would never forgive him for what he was forcing her to do. Because Daniel would never forgive her. She couldn’t allow that to matter. As Eric had commanded her, she ran.

He had moved quickly and carefully.

There wasn’t much left standing tall in the region—full cornfields had been mown down to stubble by the barrage of canister and bullets that had clashed over the gentle slopes of the region. Still, he had found a patch of still-standing corn in which to move. It would have been much better if he had waited until dark to leave. But if he had stayed, he would have wanted to say good-bye properly.

No, it would have surely been improperly. It would have been in a way that she could not forget him. No matter how long the war raged, no matter what came between them. No matter who else entered her life, she would not be able to love again, because she would feel that imprint, that brand. And then he would come back.

What a fool. He could not guarantee that he would come back. It was a wretched, bloodly, horrible war, and no man could guarantee his life. And when it was over, what would there be to offer her? A devastated landscape? Good God, no, Cameron Hall could never fall, he could not believe that it could fall. And still, when the last shots had been fired, would they be any the less enemies? One side would win, and one side would lose. What would there be for the victor and the vanquished?

He paused in the midst of the field of corn, closing his eyes, fighting the wave of pain that assailed him. He was in love with her. More deeply in love than he had ever imagined being. The feeling was supposed to be beautiful. It was wretched. It made him want to go back, just for an hour. Just long enough to hold her, really hold her, once again.

Memories for all the lonely nights to come.

Why had he left just now? Because the hours of waiting might have become more and more painful?

“Daniel!”

The call was faint at first. It might have come from deep within his heart or mind. But then he heard her calling him again, the sound louder, even frantic.

He frowned and started moving quickly back through the tall corn stalks. Green leaves rippled as he passed through the plants.

“Daniel?”

“Callie?”

He still couldn’t see her. He began to run through the corn.

He heard his name called again, closely. He paused.

“Callie, I’m here!”

She stepped into the path, perhaps twenty feet away from him.

She stared at him, her hair wild and flowing down her back, touched by the sun and radiant. Her eyes
were wide, dark in the distance, large and imploring, so beautiful and seductive.

Her breasts heaved with the exertion of her movement, and electricity seemed to sizzle in the air all around her, as if lightning had rent the sky.

“Daniel!” His name was a whisper on her tongue, ardent, soft, and still impassioned.

And then she was running through the corn again, trying to reach him.

He spoke her name again. It was a whisper on the air, as soft as the breeze. He ran, too, until he reached her, the stalks of corn waving just above their heads, the green leaves softly wafting, the smell of the earth and autumn as sweet as an aphrodisiac.

He lifted her into his arms and he spun beneath the sun with her. As he came around she sank slowly down against his body.

“Daniel, don’t go!” she whispered.

“I have to go.”

“Not now.”

“Callie, we’re only making this worse.”

“No! No!”

She rose upon her toes, cupping his neck with her hand, reaching to kiss him. Her lips trembled, her kiss was sweet and ardent and impassioned. He tasted her tension and her hunger and, he thought, even the salt of her tears.

He broke away and stared into her eyes. They were luminescent, silver, wide.

“I have to go,” he repeated.

“When it’s dark. Daniel, when it’s dark. Please, come back with me.”

His heart shuddered and slammed against his chest. He had to move on.

But how much better in the darkness. How much better to leave when their own peace had been found,
when he could move through these fields without daylight giving him away.

She lowered herself against him, her eyes upon him. He could feel the sure pressure of her breasts against his chest. And so softly as to be almost imperceptible, he felt the pressure of her hips. He closed his eyes. He wanted her one more time. With her hair spread out across the whiteness of the pillows, a deep dark flame to ignite a blaze between them.

“Callie!” He buried his head against her neck. “Dear Lord, but I should go!”

She pulled away and looked at him. By heaven above, he had never seen such a dark and seductive hue in such a beautiful set of eyes.

“Daniel, don’t leave me. Yet. Come back now. Give me the hours until darkness falls. Daniel, for the love of God, come back with me!”

Her tone was urgent. Her fingers curled around his.

“Until darkness, Callie,” he said. “It’s all that I have.”

She stared him straight in the eyes, her lashes barely flickering. “It is all that I need,” she whispered.

She turned, her fingers still entwined with his. They started walking back toward the house.

They reached the road and the open lawn before Callie’s house. Daniel paused, and Callie released his hand, stepping out into the road. She spun about, looking.

The rays of the sun seemed to touch every highlight in her hair. Her skirt spun about her along with the radiant fire waves of her hair. She seemed to move in slow motion, as though she had been captured here for all time. He would hold tight to this vision for an eternity.

She faced him again, reaching out to him.

“It’s all right. Come.”

He stepped forward. Without question, he stepped forward, trusting her.

They hurried across the lawn and into her house. When they had stepped through the door, he caught hold of her arm and pulled her back into his embrace. He kissed her, holding her close. His fingers ran through her hair. His open lips parted from hers and reclaimed them, his tongue running over that rose circle, his mouth finding the sweetness of hers once again.

She seemed strangely stiff in his arms. He raised his head, looking into her eyes.

“Callie, truly I’m sorry. For all that I said before. For my anger against you. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It—it doesn’t matter.”

“It does. I can taste it in your kiss.”

She shook her head, and she suddenly seemed pained. “No …”

“Then come back here!” he urged her softly. Again, he kissed her, putting into this embrace all of his passion, his need, the sweetness of all the desire that had raged between them. His fingers moved over her cheek, his arms pulled her close.

Suddenly, it seemed that she was stiff again. Confused, he lifted his head and met her eyes. They were more silver than he had ever seen them, filled with her tears.

“Callie, I shouldn’t have come back—”

“No! I needed you back.”

“But—”

“Not here, Daniel. Not by the door. And not—not with your sword between us.”

She was everything soft and feminine. There was a trembling in her voice, and a trembling in her fingers. She was so very beautiful.

“Callie …” he murmured. He kissed her temple, and he kissed the pulse at her throat. His fingers played upon the button at the neckline of her dress. She shied
back from him, her cheeks suffused with a soft rose color. Her lashes fell over her eyes, and it was almost as if she feared they had an audience in their intimacy.

He laughed softly. “Callie—”

“Come with me, Daniel,” she whispered. She looked up at him, and her eyes were deep pools of entreaty, of sweet silver seduction.

“Anywhere you wish to lead,” he told her. His arms came around her, sweeping her up and off the floor into his embrace. She laced her fingers around his neck, those soulful pools of silver and gray staying fixed with his. He could not tear his gaze from hers.

They reached her room. She moistened her lips as he moved through the open door with her.

She pushed against his length, sliding to set her feet upon the floor. She placed her palms against his chest and offered him a quick and breathless kiss, then stepped back.

Puzzled, he reached for her. She smiled, shyly, ruefully.

“The sword, Daniel!” she murmured. She stepped forward, her fingers shaking wildly while she unbuckled his heavy scabbard from about his hips.

The weight of the weapon in the scabbard was more than she had been expecting. He took it from her, holding it while he watched her. She smiled, moistening her lips again. She stepped back, then twirled around and walked toward her bed. The bed with its beautiful white sheets and spread.

She stood by the bed, noting the narrowing of his eyes as he stared at her. She crawled atop it and lay back.

Her hair was spread across that elegant white, a fire, a flame, as endlessly seductive and appealing as he had dared to dream.

Her gaze met his. Radiant, shivering. She touched the rose of her lips with the tip of her tongue.

“Daniel, get rid of the sword, please.” She moved her fingers over the spread, invitingly. She leaned up on an elbow. “Please, get rid of the sword. Come to me.”

Circe had never sung so seductively upon the sea.

He was in love with this Circe.

He set his sword down on one of the chairs by the cold hearth, and walked to the foot of the bed. He paused, then unhooked the single button at the throat of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

He smiled at her and mouthed the words, “Angel, I love you.”

He started to stretch down beside her.