Surrender to the Fury (6 page)

Aimee paused at the bottom of the steps to gaze out the window. Numerous tents dotted the south lawn where men were busily engaged in all kinds of labor. She couldn’t remember when there had been such a flurry of activity at Tall Oaks. Certainly not since the slaves had left. She started to turn away when something caught her eye, and she spun around again to peer out the window. She nearly fainted when she saw Brand standing on the lawn raising his arms to Nick, who was mounted on his horse. Then Nick bent down, lifted the lad, and swung him up before him in the saddle. He hugged the child and laughed in pure joy when Brand squealed in delight. Then Nick set his horse in motion, holding Brand with one hand while guiding his horse with the other.

Brand loved horses, but all of the decent stock at Tall Oaks had been confiscated at the beginning of the war. What the Confederate army left behind, the Union army quickly seized for their own. All
that was left to them was one swaybacked mule fit only to pull the dilapidated wagon in which they rode to town when they still had money to pay for purchases.

“De captain seems mighty taken with Brand.” Savannah had entered the foyer and stood behind Aimee, wondering what had captured her attention so thoroughly.

“Brand is a child; he doesn’t recognize the enemy,” Aimee said shortly.

Savannah bent her a measuring look. “I don’t like dem Yankees any better dan you do, honey, but I sure appreciate havin’ a full stomach. Captain Drummond, he don’t seem a bad sort, as Yankees go, and you should see de food dem Yanks carted into de kitchen dis mornin’ when de wagon from quartermaster done arrived. I don’t think dey mean us any harm.”

“Don’t sing Captain Drummond’s praises to me, Savannah,” Aimee sniffed. She definitely wasn’t pleased by Savannah’s sage observations. In her eyes Nick Drummond was a devil. “And I don’t want Brand becoming attached to that Yankee. Try to keep him inside as much as possible.”

“Dere ain’t no way to keep dat chile from goin’ outside with all de activity goin’ on,” Savannah snorted.

“Nevertheless, we must try.” Her voice was grim with determination and something else Savannah found puzzling. Aimee’s light brown eyes were dark pools of rage as she opened the door and hurried outside.

“Where you goin’, honey?”

“To get my son,” Aimee replied over her shoulder as she slammed the door behind her.

Savannah clucked her tongue and wagged her head from side to side as she headed back toward the kitchen. “Dat chile sure is stubborn,” she said to herself. She’d seen Aimee through many moods throughout the years, both good and bad, but never had she seen her so obsessed with a man was she was with Captain Nick Drummond.

Nick tightened his grip on Brand. The little imp was a joy to be around; someday he hoped to have a son just like him. It had only been since the war that he had even considered marriage and children. Seeing men die had instilled in him the need to leave a little bit of himself behind when he left this earth. Perhaps he would have children when he married Regina Blakewell, the daughter of General Andrew Blakewell. He had been more or less forced to propose to Regina since her father had caught them in a compromising position. In order to protect his career, which could be ruined by one word from the general, he had done the “gentlemanly” thing.

No date had been set for the wedding, since times were precarious at best, but Nick supposed they would marry after the war. No great love had emerged in his life, and since he despaired of ever finding Aimee Fortune, he had agreed to marriage out of hopeless remorse. Had he been able to find Aimee five years ago … But that was another story, another time, and nothing could change the course of fate.

Nick’s thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt when he saw Aimee heading straight for him. Her teeth were clenched, her stubborn jaw raised defiantly, and her eyes were dark with fury. He reined in his horse.

“Mama, look at me,” crowed Brand, waving his chubby arms in the air. “Captain Drummond said I could ride Scout by myself when I get a little bigger.”

“Would you please put my son down, Captain Drummond,” Aimee demanded.

Nick obliged despite Brand’s keen disappointment.

“Run into the house, Brand. Savannah has breakfast prepared.”

“I already had breakfast, Mama. I ate with Captain Drummond.”

Aimee ground her teeth in frustration. “Don’t argue, Brand, just go inside. I want to talk to Captain Drummond in private.” The little fellow looked hurt and puzzled but nevertheless obeyed his mother. She rarely spoke to him in that tone of voice, and when she did, he scrambled to do her bidding.

The moment he was out of earshot, Aimee rounded on Nick. “How dare you try to turn my son against me! I want you to keep away from him.”

Nick’s face grew stony. “He’s a child, for God’s sake. Why would I possibly want to turn him against you? Has it ever occurred to you that I genuinely like the boy? I’d never harm him.”

“I don’t trust Yankees. And cheating rogues are even more despicable.”

Nick gnashed his teeth in vexation. “I didn’t cheat you, Aimee, I won fair and square. You agreed to draw against me, knowing full well what I wanted from you if I won.”

Aimee flushed, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. Except for Lieutenant Dill, who was
eyeing them curiously, no one seemed to be giving them a passing glance. Just to be safe, she lowered her voice. “Don’t remind me of my folly. That part of my life is over and done with. It ended the night you took … took everything from me. I had nothing left to give when you finished with me.”

“Evidently Beau Trevor didn’t find you lacking.” Nick’s lips curved into a wry curl. Aimee had sorely hurt him with her ridiculous accusation, and he wanted to lash out at her. But all he did was stoke the fires of her temper.

“Don’t you dare say anything bad about Beau,” she hissed. “The man was an angel compared to you.”

Nick winced. Did she love her husband so much? “You don’t even know me.”

“I know all I want to know about you, and I don’t like any of it. You’re not fit company for my son, so keep away from him.” She whirled on her heel and stomped away.

Unwilling to be bested by the acid-tongued little witch, Nick slid from his horse and grasped Aimee about the waist, swinging her around to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mrs. Trevor. You, your son, this house, and everything here are mine to command. I strongly suggest you obey me in all things and do nothing to invite my anger. If you behave, no harm will come to you. But I’m giving you fair warning—if you go too far, my good graces will end. Do you think I’m stupid? If not for me and my men, you would slowly starve to death. Be grateful I haven’t ordered you to yield to me in … other ways. Some men I know wouldn’t be so considerate.”

“Considerate!” Aimee’s eyes flashed indignantly.
“Yankees aren’t considerate, they’re devils. They’ve raped our land and our women, and stolen our birthright. What can I hope to leave Brand when he’s grown? A wreck of a house with no money to pay the taxes or feed a family? Land ravaged by war, and no one to work its fallow acres? A legacy of death and destruction? I haven’t even begun to enumerate the wrongs you’ve personally done to me. Go away, just go away!”

Aimee’s bitter recriminations stunned and bewildered Nick. He’d done nothing so terrible to her that he knew about. Nor had he asked anything of her that she wasn’t prepared to relinquish to any other man to whom she owed a debt of honor. She had probably repaid many a debt in the same manner. That she’d been harboring a grudge against him all these years gave him pause. Was it because he had left her so abruptly the next morning?

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Trevor, but I have an important job to do here that makes my presence necessary. As for your son, the lad seems to enjoy mingling with my men, and I’ll not interfere with that enjoyment. He’s had little enough pleasure in his young life, and he reminds my men of the children they left behind. No one would dare harm him.”

Having said all he was going to on the subject, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Aimee fuming in impotent rage. Having Nick Drummond walk into her life again brought back bittersweet memories she’d rather forget.

… H
e touched his tongue to her nipple. She shivered in response. He told her that her body was made for love. He lowered the dress down her hips and legs and lifted her from the circle of cloth. Her petticoats and underwear followed in quick order. She stood before him clad only in shoes and stockings held up by frilly garters, shivering as his hot gaze slid over her. His eyes worshiped every place they touched—and they touched everywhere. Her shivering increased. He told her he wouldn’t hurt her, that he only wanted to love her. Then he swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed
.

Taking her foot in his hand, he slowly peeled the stocking from her leg, nuzzling the soft white inside of her thigh, her calf, her instep. He repeated the process with the other leg. Then he sat back on his heels and removed his jacket and shirt. The sight of his muscular chest captivated her, and she stared transfixed at the thick mat of curly black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. When he stood to remove his trousers, she tore her eyes away. But his husky, seductive whisper urging her to look at him brought her glazed eyes back to his magnificent body. He slid his trousers and underwear down his hips and legs in one
smooth motion and stood before her as God had created him—wonderfully male, arrogant, proud, fully erect. Her eyes paused briefly at the juncture of his legs, then opened wide in alarm and disbelief as they flew up to his face. He was so …

“Aimee, are you all right, honey?” Savannah had walked into the parlor to find Aimee staring into space, her eyes unfocused, her body rigid.

Aimee started violently. Ever since that scoundrel Nick Drummond had intruded upon her life, she had had a difficult time controlling her thoughts. Though in the past she had thought about him upon occasion—how could she not when she had a living reminder of him?—it had never been to such an extent that she recalled every vivid detail of every minute they’d spent together. Previously, all she cared to remember was what a devil he was and the hatred she bore him.

“I’m fine, Savannah.”

“What you doin’ in here all by yourself?”

“I—I was thinking this room should be given a thorough cleaning.”

“Why?” Savannah snorted. “Ain’t no furniture in here to clean, so why bother? Most of de house ain’t livable ’cept for de kitchen and some of de bedrooms. ’Sides,” she added astutely, “you can’t fool me, honey. Somethin’s botherin’ you. Ever since dem Yankees rode in, you ain’t been de same.”

“You’re imagining things, Savannah. If I haven’t been the same since the Yankees came to Tall Oaks, it’s because I haven’t forgotten that Yankees are responsible for Beau’s death.”

Savannah’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. She wasn’t fooled for a minute. “Dem Yankees
been here for nearly two weeks, and dey ain’t caused us no harm so far. I ain’t sayin’ I love dem, but at least we’s eatin’ regular. I’m thinkin’ it’s only one Yankee dat’s botherin’ you so much. You got a special grudge against Captain Drummond, and I ain’t figured out why.”

“There is nothing to figure out, Savannah,” Aimee insisted stubbornly. “Stop trying to place any importance on my hatred for Captain Drummond. The man is an arrogant bastard who has taken over our lives without considering our feelings. Tall Oaks is mine; he has no business being here.”

“C’mon, honey, why don’t you come into de kitchen with me and help prepare supper. Dere’s a brace of nice plump rabbits ready to be skinned and made into a tasty stew. Why, dere’s even some sugar and flour to make Brand his favorite cookies.”

Later, as Aimee rolled out sugar cookies for Brand, and Savannah put together the ingredients for the stew, a lone rider rode into the yard. His horse was lathered, and when he dismounted, his legs nearly gave way beneath him. He looked as if he had ridden fast and hard. Savannah joined Aimee at the back door as a soldier pointed out the man to Nick.

“Wonder what dat’s all about,” Savannah said curiously as the man placed a leather pouch in Nick’s hand.

“Probably some kind of messenger,” Aimee assumed. “I wonder …” She shrugged and turned away.

Nick directed the man to the soldiers’ mess, then walked slowly toward the house with the
pouch. Aimee heard the front door slam behind him and his steps reverberating on the stairs as he sought the privacy of his room to peruse the dispatch from headquarters. It was the first time since the Yankees occupied Tall Oaks that a messenger had arrived. Though Aimee was curious, she deliberately refrained from speculating on the contents of the pouch. The war had caused her and her loved ones untold grief, and she had been able to cope with it by disassociating herself from its daily horrors. It might be cowardly, but it was her way of keeping her sanity.

The next day Nick led a patrol out at dawn. Aimee had been waiting for just such an occasion to defy his rule about leaving the confines of the house and yard. She knew the berries that grew in the nearby woods were ripe, and she planned to slip away at the first opportunity to gather them. There was still some sugar left, and they’d make delicious pies. She informed Savannah of her intention.

“You know what Captain Drummond said, honey,” Savannah warned her. “Why not ask him if you could go? Dat way he can’t say nothin’ when he learned you went against his wishes.”

Aimee bristled angrily. “I’m not going to let that man control my life! I’ve always picked berries this time of year, and I’m not going to let one of his silly rules stop me now. Please watch Brand while I’m gone; I’ll be back long before Captain Drummond returns from patrol.”

Savannah shook her head with misgiving as she watched Aimee walk toward the woods, a pail slung over her arm. “Stubborn,” she muttered aloud. “She’s de stubbornest little gal I ever seen.”

“Where are you going, Mrs. Trevor?” Lieutenant Dill’s challenge halted Aimee’s progress across the yard. He greatly admired the petite, blond widow but was astute enough to know that Captain Drummond had some kind of prior claim.