The Vacant Chair (26 page)

The graying eyebrows shot up to disappear beneath the brim his hat. “Your wife?”

Justin fought the urge to bolt, wishing he knew what the hell the man planned to do with him. “Her brother is in Libby. She’s here to be near him.”

The man digested that for a moment. “And you came here through the lines dressed in
those
so you could see her?” He looked skeptical.

Justin knew how crazy it sounded. “Yes.” Among other things, like observing the number of remaining Confederate troops in the city. Christ, could they just get this over with? If he was lucky he’d wind up in Libby, too. If not, they’d shoot him dead on the spot or hang him in the morning for spying.

The Confederate shook his head in wonder. “And did you see her?”

“No. I couldn’t find her.” What did the Reb care about it?

“What’s your wife’s name, and where does she live?”

Justin’s spine went rigid. No way would he give up Brianna so she could be imprisoned as well. They’d arrest her on trumped-up charges of spying or conspiracy.

“I’m not going to arrest her,” the man said in disgust. “Here.” He dug in a pocket for a stub of a pencil. He offered it and the back of Justin’s pass to write on. “Jot down a note, if you want, and I’ll see that she gets it.”

What the…
Justin stared at him as resentment bubbled up. “So she can visit both me and her brother in prison?”

The Reb sighed and pushed the paper and pencil at him. “Just write it.”

“I want your word that you won’t arrest her.”

“And you’ve got it.”

At this point, what choice did he have? Justin wrote a short note, gave the man her name and address and handed it over, prepared for his arrest.

Keeping her eyes downcast so she wouldn’t draw unwanted attention, Brianna hurried through the dark, deserted alleyways with her woolen cloak wrapped snugly about her shoulders. The prospect of her cozy bed and a full night’s sleep propelled her aching feet down the road in an unsavory area of town. She passed another bar, this time drawing whistles and lewd remarks from some soldiers on the front steps. Ignoring them, she hastened along, driven by footsteps and drunken voices behind her.

She shouldn’t be here. She knew better. The men continued to shout things to her, more obscene by the second. Streamers of alarm slid through her. In danger of robbery, rape or worse, she headed for the next building, where she’d turn right and change her route. A jolt of panic hit her as a glance over her shoulder showed one of them coming after her. 

Stifling a cry, Brianna took up her skirts and ran. She’d almost made it to the end of the alley when rough hands yanked her backward and threw her to the ground. She shrank from the filthy hands gripping her throat.  

“Whatcha got on you, beautiful? Jewelry? Money?” He pawed through her clothing for valuables.

She slapped at his hands and scuttled backward. Caleb’s ring was on her right hand, Justin’s on her left, and his watch was in her pocket. She would never give up any of them.

Undeterred by her blows, the man searched her roughly. Her hands dug into his arms to hold him away and she screamed for all she was worth. The onlookers hooted and shouted encouragement, while their comrade fought to restrain her.

“Yer mighty strong, arncha?” he slurred. “And loud, too!”

No one helped her. Men stood by not fifty feet from where she lay, and even though she thought she screamed loud enough to wake President Lincoln in Washington, no one came to her aid. Anger lashed through her, giving her added strength as she fought back. If he had rape on his mind, he would have to kill her before she gave into him. She kicked and struggled, managed to land blows about his face with clenched fists. He swore and released her. Panting, she shot to her feet and took off in a burst of speed.

But he was too quick for her. A heartbeat later, he slammed into her from behind and took her to the ground. Bright lights exploded as pain coursed through her chest. “Stay still!” he snarled, his sour breath making her long to retch.

He was
not
going to take what little she had left of Caleb or Justin. If he intended to kill her for it, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

Curling her fingers like claws, Brianna raked them down his face. He howled then reared up and swung an arm back to hit her in the face. She tasted blood, warm and metallic. Hard hands locked around her throat. She gasped and thrashed, panic taking hold when she couldn’t get a breath.

More lights burst in front of her eyes.

No air.
She tore at his hands. The pressure didn’t loosen.

“Let her go,” a hard voice said from the shadows.
“Now.”

The grip on her throat disappeared, and past her heaving gasps she heard the click of a hammer cocking. Her attacker squinted into the darkness and stood. She wrenched upwards and crawled to her knees, coughing and gasping in painful gulps.

“Get away from her, you filthy son of a bitch.” Her rescuer held his weapon leveled at the man. “On your knees. Now.”

Brianna scrambled to her feet, cradling her tender throat. Her attacker darted rat-like eyes down the alley, as if he might try to flee.

“I said,
on your knees
.”

He stayed frozen another moment, then leaped up and made a run for it.

A shot rang out. Bits of brain and blood sprayed over the alley. She stifled a scream and lurched away until her back pressed flat against the cold brick wall behind her. Breathless, she watched her protector bend down beside the lifeless gray-clad body, and two more soldiers materialized behind him.

“Get rid of him. Go to the courthouse and file a report telling Major Cahill what happened,” the shadowy figure said to his waiting troops. “I’ll see to the lady.”

The Confederate from the Wilderness tucked the note and pencil into a pocket then released the bridle and stepped back. Holstered his pistol.

Justin held his breath, not daring to move.

“Major Cahill!”

The man’s head swiveled at his comrade’s shout.

A young soldier ran up. “Trouble a few blocks from here, sir. Troops shot a man accosting a lady.”

“Be right there.” Cahill glanced back at Justin and smiled, then held out a hand. “Good luck to you, sir.”

Justin couldn’t believe it. He was letting him go? Still wary, he hesitated a moment, then shook the offered hand. Williams rode his mount over to them, face pale.

Cahill’s grin widened as he stepped back. “I told you I’d never forget you. And I like to repay my debts. So you two go on now, and be careful of them pickets. They get mighty twitchy this time of night. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure your wife gets this.” He patted his coat pocket.

For the first time since they’d been stopped, Justin’s lungs took in a full breath. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Cahill slapped Justin’s horse on the rump, sending him trotting off toward their own lines.

Chapter Twenty Six

When the major arrived, Brianna was huddled under her shawl. Her legs shook, but she was still on her feet. The middle-aged newcomer approached her with a bowlegged gait. “Ma’am. Are you all right?”

She barely managed a nod.

The graying officer unbuttoned his tattered greatcoat and placed it around her shivering shoulders. “I’m Major Cahill, ma’am.” His dark gaze swept over her face. “I’m so terribly sorry about this. Can’t imagine what's gotten into these animals. Do you think you can walk, or shall I find us a wagon?”

“I can w-walk,” she replied hoarsely. Her throat was sore and her teeth chattered, but otherwise she was okay.

He grasped her elbow and led her away, and she stumbled. He offered to carry her but she refused, so he set a sturdy arm around her shoulders and guided her down the street.

“Where do you live?” he asked her.

She recited her address.

He hissed in a breath and stopped so suddenly she stumbled again. “What’s your name?”

She blinked at the sharp edge to his tone. “Jen—Brianna,” she corrected quickly, cursing herself for not being more careful. No one here would know her by her real name. “Thompson.”

He gaped at her. “Mother of God.”

She stared up at him. No one here knew that name except for Morgan. Not even Nan. “What?” Fear edged up her spine. Had someone issued an arrest warrant for her?

He dragged a hand over his face. “I just saw your husband.”

She must have heard him wrong. “You… What?”

“He was here, looking for you.”

She shook her head. “No, you must be mistaken. My husband is—”

“Riding back to his lines wearing butternut,” Cahill muttered under his breath.

A loud roar filled her ears. “P-pardon?”

“He gave me this for you. I was going to drop it off personally tomorrow.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

Her fingers quivered as she took it. The familiar handwriting made her heart twist.

Dearest Brianna,

Stay safe and warm. I will come for you as soon as I can.

All my love,

Justin.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back a cry as the pain hit her. Justin had been here? Had risked his life to sneak into Richmond to see her, and she’d
missed
him? She wanted his arms around her so badly right now. Knowing she’d lost her chance hurt so much she couldn’t breathe.

Cahill set his arm around her again and started walking, despite her stiffness. “He saved my life, you know. At the Wilderness. Dragged me out of the fire and carried me to the hospital on his horse.”

She started to cry. How could she have missed him? How could God be that cruel? And if the major knew him, he would have known Justin was a Yankee. “What line was he riding to?”

Cahill waved her concern away. “I know you won’t tell anyone I let him go. Figured it was the least I could do to repay him. Though I’m mighty glad to know he was telling the truth about you.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Cheer up, now. He looked right as rain, and the war won’t last much longer.”

She shot him a doubtful look through her tears.

“Most of us, we know it’s all but over now. We’re just too darned proud to give up yet.” There was a wry twist to his mouth. “How is it you married a Yank, anyhow?”

She drew in a breath. “He was wounded and became a patient of mine at a hospital.”

“That right? Lucky fellow. I was only in the hospital once, back after the Wilderness. Awful place.”

Sniffing, she fought to control her voice. “We had a lot of wounded from that fight.”

He studied her as they strolled down the street. “It’s been a hell of a war.”

Yes, it had. She prayed every night for it to end, and it seemed so close now. But oh, Justin… She cast a longing glance over her shoulder.

“He’s long gone by now,” Cahill said. “Halfway back to his regiment, I would imagine. What’s his rank and outfit?”

“He’s a major. Fifth Michigan Cavalry.”

He winced. “Lord, when I decide to do a good deed, I really do it well, don’t I?”

Brianna didn’t answer, looking over her shoulder into the shadows and straining to hear faint hoof beats that might mean he wasn’t gone yet.

Major Cahill stopped and studied her for a moment. Finally, he relented with a sigh. “Sergeant, bring me a horse.”

 “Sir,” Williams whispered anxiously beside him.

“I know,” Justin snapped. The galloping hoof beats were coming closer.

Ah damn, Cahill had reported them. The muscles in his stomach drew taut.

He drew his revolver and turned in the saddle to confront the new threat. Dammit, they were almost to the Rebel lines. His heart rate doubled in the tense silence. Too late to run for it now. All he could do was stand and fight his way out of this and pray he made it out alive.

A horse appeared at the end of the road, running flat-out toward them. Justin squinted in the darkness. It looked like it carried two riders on its back. He raised his revolver. “Get ready.”

“Justin!”

He jerked at the sound of the female shout. His hand froze around the revolver.

One of the riders waved their arm in a frantic motion. “Justin!” The familiar voice made his lungs seize.

Brianna?
He yanked his horse’s head around and kicked the animal into a canter.

“Sir?” Williams asked from behind him.

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” He didn’t wait for a reply, wouldn’t have heard it anyway over the pounding of his heart.

Another frantic wave. “Justin!”

Oh God, it
was
her. “Brianna!” He drove his heels into the horse’s sides and tore out to meet her. Cahill brought the other horse to a plunging stop, and Justin leaped from his saddle to reach up for his wife.

She jumped straight into his arms.

He caught her and held her fiercely against him. “
Bree
.”

She was shaking and crying, little sobs jerking through her as he tried to surround her with his body. Christ, he felt a little unsteady himself.

“She’s a bit shaken up,” Cahill said.

Justin spared a glance at the man, who was scanning their surroundings. “Thank you,” was all he could manage.

Cahill nodded. “Glad my men got there in time.”

In time for what?

The man’s words penetrated through his elation, and Justin remembered overhearing that a woman had been assaulted earlier. Without thinking, he took Brianna’s face between his hands and tilted her head up. The faint moonlight gave him just enough light to make out the smear of blood on her lower lip and the faint bruise starting across one high cheekbone. “Jesus,” he breathed, anger rising swift and brutal inside him. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “Really, I am.”

He smoothed a thumb over her damaged lip, battling the lethal rage sweeping over him. He would kill whoever had done this to her.

“The man’s paying for it in hell right now,” Cahill said, turning his back to give them privacy.

Justin gently wiped away a tear that had slipped over her lower lashes. Her beautiful eyes were silver with them. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Just a thief,” she managed, still quivering all over. “He tried to take your watch.”

She’d been assaulted because of his damn
watch
? “Dammit, please tell me you handed it over.”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “Never.”

It scared the holy hell out of him that she would stand and fight to protect a stupid piece of jewelry. But she was clearly upset, and he wasn’t going to lecture her on it now. “Angel, look at you,” he whispered and kissed her gently, mindful of her cut lip. She made a choked sound and wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting into the kiss. He soothed her with nibbles and the slow sweep of his tongue before placing tiny kisses all over every mark on her face.

Her quivers lessened and the taut muscles in her back seemed to relax. “I can’t believe you’re here, in this.” She ran her fingers over the shoulder of his worn butternut uniform.

“I know,” he said against her cheek. “It’s a long story.”

Cahill coughed discreetly to get their attention. “Hate to break up the reunion, but you’d best get movin’.”

Brianna slid her fingers into his hair and gazed deep into his eyes for a moment before she buried her face in his neck. “Be safe.”

He was so torn. The thought of leaving her when she was hurt and frightened made him feel like an anvil sat on his chest. “Bree, look at me.”

She raised her head, blinking away tears.

He ignored the prickle of warning crawling over his nape that he had to go, now, and cupped her face between his hands. “Come with me. Right now.”

“I can’t.” Her face twisted in anguish. “I want to, but I can’t. My brother’s ill, really ill. They don’t have a full-time doctor available at Libby, so they let me in to nurse him once a day. I can’t leave him. He’ll die without me and the little food I bring him.”

Hell. The thought of her coming and going from that dank prison made his skin crawl. The urge to grab her and gallop away was almost overpowering, but there was no point arguing with her. She’d never forgive him if he forcibly took her away from the brother she’d come to Richmond to be near. He ran a hand over the length of her spine. “Do you know what’s going to happen here?”

Eyes solemn, she nodded. And much as she tried to hide it, he saw the fear buried there. It made him want to shake her. “It won’t be much longer now, but when the city falls it’s going to fall hard. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

She clutched his upper arms. “Yes.”

God, he couldn’t believe he was going to have to leave her behind in harm’s way. “Stay in the house when it does. Keep everything locked up tight, and if you do have to go out, stay on your side of the river. And never,
ever
leave the house alone.”

“I won’t.” Her throat moved when she swallowed, drawing his attention to the purple marks staining her creamy skin.

“Jesus, what—”

“I’m all right.” One slender hand went to her throat. “No real damage.”

He met her eyes as he caressed her satiny cheek. He shook his head.

“I know. But you have to go, now.” With a deep breath she stepped back, as though making the decision for him.

He didn’t even have any money with him to give her. Pursing his lips, he grabbed her chilled hands. “I’ll take you back to the house.”

“No.” Fear crept into her eyes, eclipsing the sadness. “No, you can’t. It’s too dangerous and you need to get back to your lines.”

Who was she to talk after what she’d been through tonight and what she’d face if she stayed in Richmond? The hell it was too dangerous for him. “I’m taking you back.”

“I’ll see her home safely,” Cahill offered, stepping closer. “And she’s right, you need to be riding outta here right quick.”

Glancing behind him, he found Williams waiting a short distance away, still mounted. They had yet to clear the Rebel pickets and line and make it back to their own in their butternut uniforms without being shot. With a frustrated sigh, he turned back to Brianna. “Come here.” When he opened his arms, she pressed full length against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his back. Justin squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her one last time. Hard. To tell her without words how much he didn’t want to let her go. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. Never would be.

“Love you.”

The whispered words punched him right in the heart. “God, I love you too.” Forcing himself to release her, he took a step back and reached for his horse’s bridle. He looked over at Cahill. “You’ll take care of her?”

“You have my word.”

He read the steely resolve in the other man’s eyes and felt satisfied he would protect Brianna. It was all he could ask for.

Settling into the saddle, Justin stared down at his wife. Her hair was mussed and sliding from its pins, her lips swollen. Liquid with unshed tears, her wide gray eyes gazed back at him. She was the most precious thing in the world to him.

His voice was rough. “You stay safe, you hear me?”

She nodded, eyes haunted by the knowledge that they might not see each other again. “You too.”

The muscles in his jaw bunched. “I’ll come for you as soon as I can.”

“Yes, please do.”

He couldn’t get anything else out past the lump in his throat. All he could manage was a tight nod.

Feeling like he was tearing off his own skin, he wheeled his horse around and galloped toward the Confederate line with Williams right behind him.