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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: To Tame A Rebel
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“I'll be all right,” she assured him.
“April, as soon as this war is over, why don't you marry me? I'd spend my life making you happy.”
“On the ranch?”
He shook his head. “Jim's the only one who cares about the ranch. I'm thinking of being a career officer. You'd like being posted to the excitement of Washington, with all its balls and parties.”
“That does sound tempting, almost as good as Boston.” Then she thought of sleeping with Will while the man she really desired slept with another woman at the ranch. “I—I'd have to think about that, Will. To be honest, I'm not in love with you.”
He seemed to brush aside her comment. “Oh, I'd be so good to you, I could make you love me. I'll persist until I wear you down and you marry me.”
She didn't answer, her mind busy. She was saving her small salary to buy a stage ticket, but most of the time, the stagecoaches weren't even running to the Indian Territory. She might have to wait until the war ended to get out. It would be easy to marry Will rather than struggle on her own. “Will, do you have any clues about when the war might end?”
He shook his head. “It can't be long, but the rebels are more stubborn than expected. They attacked Fort Smith several weeks ago but were beaten back.”
He must have seen the alarm in her face, because he hastened to say, “Don't worry, my brothers are okay, but Stand Watie's troops are getting desperate for food and supplies. Even Jim must realize that it would be best for all if the rebels would give up their arms and surrender.”
“Jim never seemed like the type to surrender,” she said.
“Yes, he's stubborn, but he's not stupid.” He kissed her fingertips, and she smiled at him. She must learn more if possible, so she would have something to report if the major ever showed up.
“What's the matter, dear? You're frowning.”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I've been worried about you, Will. Some weeks ago, you acted quite undone—something about a major.”
He hesitated, looking down into her face. “It doesn't matter. I think I was upset for nothing.”
She persisted. “You acted as if it was important.”
He fidgeted, as if trying to decide whether to trust her with his secret. “April, something awful happened.” He lowered his voice and looked around as if to see if there was anyone nearby. The post was quiet in the August evening.
“Oh, Will, you can tell me.”
He hesitated. “I—I killed an officer by mistake.”
“What?” She started, and the swing creaked loudly.
“I didn't mean to.” He looked frantic and apologetic. “He was shooting at me from the brush, and I shot back. When I killed him, I discovered he was a Union major.”
“Oh, my God.” She felt her face go ashen.
“But I'm not sure he was one of ours.” Will seemed to be attempting to reassure her. “Here's the funny thing; he also had a Confederate uniform in his things.”
She had a terrible sinking feeling. “Who—who do you think he was?”
“I don't honestly know if he was a Yank who'd been spying on the rebels or vice versa.”
“But when you told the colonel, didn't he question. . . ?”
“April . . .” Sweat broke out on his face now. “I—I didn't tell anyone. I was so afraid I'd get in trouble, I rolled the body off in a ravine and pretended it never happened.” He paused and looked at her anxiously. “Are you all right? You look faint.”
She felt faint. She knew now why Major John Smith had never contacted her. She'd waited for weeks, and all this time, was he lying dead in a gully somewhere near the fort? “What—what did he look like?”
“What difference does that make?”
She took a deep breath, knowing she must not betray her emotions. “I don't know; just curious, I suppose.”
Will shrugged. “I don't really remember, it happened so fast. Middle-aged, maybe. I think he had a big mole on his cheek, and his nose was crooked.”
She didn't say anything for a long moment. She hadn't counted on this. She didn't know what to do now.
“April, say something.”
“I—I don't know what to say, Will. You probably should have told your superior officers.”
Sweat broke out on his dark face. “I didn't know what to do. I was afraid of being court-martialed. But anyway, there's been no official questioning about a missing officer, so my guess is, he was a rebel spy.”
“A rebel spy? Surely you're joking, Will. Why would a rebel spy be sneaking into Fort Gibson?”
“We don't know he was headed to Fort Gibson,” Will said. “He might have been going anywhere. He must have been carrying some important dispatches, because when we rode up, he'd burned them before I killed him.”
“We?”
In the dusk, his face turned ashen. “I—I meant me.”
Somehow, she knew he was lying about being alone, and wondered who else was in on this cover-up with him.
“April, you won't tell anyone, will you? It might get me in big trouble, and I'm trying to move up in rank.”
She blinked in disbelief. “You're saying that getting a promotion is a good excuse to keep this secret?”
“April, I swear I never meant to kill him. If I'm to have a career in the army, this can't come out. Promise me you won't tell.”
She patted his hand, her mind busy. “I promise I won't get you in trouble.”
“Oh, good. I knew you had to care about me, even though you keep putting me off. We're going to have a wonderful life together, April.” Before she could react, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She was too stunned to do anything but submit, but as he kissed her, her mind went to Jim and the ecstasy of his kisses.
She managed to pull away, wondering what she should do. The dispatches the major had burned were probably meant for her—so she'd know what to do next. Now she was on her own. She patted Will's arm. “Everything will be all right.”
“I feel better now that I've told you. I've been about to go crazy worrying about getting caught.”
Not guilt,
she thought,
not even pity for the dead man; only worries for himself and his career.
“It's war,” she murmured, “and you said you didn't see him when you shot at him, so it's just a terrible mistake.”
“That's right, isn't it?” He brightened considerably.
What to do?
“If you don't mind, Will, I'm feeling poorly again. I think I'll go in.”
Now his face mirrored concern. “I'm afraid I've given you a shock. I never meant to, April.”
“It's all right,” she murmured. “I think I must have gotten some bad food; I've been sick at my stomach a lot lately, especially in the mornings.”
“That bacon we get is moldy,” he said, nodding, “and sometimes, the eggs are almost rotten. Be more careful what you eat.”
“I will.” She stood up and turned toward the store, but he caught her hand.
“April, I forgot to tell you: I'm being sent to Fort Scott on an assignment soon.”
“Fort Scott, Kansas?”
“Don't worry, I won't be gone but a few days.”
“Oh, what for?” This information might be important.
“I don't know much yet, but it's nothing that would interest your pretty little ears.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Now, go in, dear, and get some rest; you look pale.”
“I won't be getting much rest,” she answered. “The owners are gone over to the nearest town, trying to get supplies for the store, so I'm in charge. Good night, Will.”
She went in to bed, but she didn't sleep. This expedition to Kansas sounded important. She'd have to keep her ears open and see what she could learn. Then she thought of the dead major. She was in a tight spot already and didn't know what she should do next. The Yankees would shoot a spy as quickly as the Confederates would, and she knew it.
The next evening, right before closing time, she was on her knees behind a counter, straightening a shelf, when she heard the bell tinkle as the door opened.
“April, dear, are you here?”
Will.
She sighed and started to get up, but about that time, she heard other footsteps.
“Oh, Lieutenant Eagle, glad to have caught you; we need to talk.” The colonel's voice.
“Yes sir. Talk right here?”
“This is good enough; there's obviously no one around, although we can't be too careful about spies these days.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
“I want to give you final details about your trip to Fort Scott. I've got maps for you over at my office.”
“Oh? I've been wondering what this was about, sir.”
“Big news. There's a huge wagon train of supplies waiting at Fort Scott: three hundred wagons and hundreds of fresh horses and mules.”
“Three hundred wagons coming here?”
The colonel cleared his throat. “Yes. Enough supplies to get us through the winter. Good thing the rebels don't know about it. They need supplies worse than we do. I'm sending you to escort that supply train.”
Will made a sound of exclamation. “Thank you for the honor, sir.”
“You deserve it, Lieutenant Eagle. If this campaign is a success, I've got my eye on you for a captain's bars, and after that, who knows?”
“I won't disappoint you, sir.”
“Good. Let's go over to my office and get those maps.”
April heard the door close, then silence. Very slowly she stood up and looked out the window at the two disappearing across the parade grounds. She realized she'd been holding her breath as she exhaled, and went over to lock the door and leaned against it, breathless. This was the big event the colonel had talked about that night of the July Fourth dance: thousands of dollars' worth of food, ammunition, boots, and blankets—items the Confederates needed desperately. If the rebels only knew the wagon train was coming, they could intercept it.
She could take the word to Jim Eagle. Even as she thought that, April shook her head. He wouldn't trust or believe her. She pictured Jim's hungry, ragged troops. This might be their last chance to get enough supplies to carry them through the winter—the difference between winning this war and losing it. She didn't really care who won the war; she never had. Her only interest had been the money she would be paid as a spy, but now the major was dead. She wondered if the dispatches he'd been carrying were to tell her about the wagon train?
What to do?
The safest thing was to do nothing. Why should she stick her neck out? Jim would never believe her if she went to him and told him. In fact, he might have her shot if she returned to the Confederate camp, or she might end up in a miserable Southern prison like Andersonville.
She wrestled with her decision all night and through the next day as the ladies gathered to give the troops a send-off. She waved and smiled as Will rode out, and he turned in his saddle and blew her a kiss. After the troops had left the fort, she returned to the store, still attempting to make a choice. By nightfall, she knew what her decision had to be, even if it cost her her freedom or her life.
She waited until darkness; then she sneaked away, stole an army horse grazing in a field outside the fort, and rode out, searching for the Confederate camp and Jim Eagle.
Chapter 22
April had some misgivings as she rode toward the Confederate camp. Now that she was finally going to tell Jim the truth, she had no hope that he would believe or even listen to what she had to say. And if he was indeed Will's accomplice, would Jim try to silence her? Self-preservation warned her that now that things had gone awry with the dead major, she should try to get as far from here as possible and, using her pay from the store, head back east.
Then she thought of those hungry Confederate soldiers and those big Yankee supply wagons and knew she had to make the sacrifice, no matter the personal consequences.
It was late night when she arrived at the perimeter of the Confederate camp and reined in.
“Halt! Who goes there?” The sentry aimed his rifle at her. The voice was familiar.
“Tommy, is that you?” She held her hands up so he could see them. “It's April, and I'm unarmed.”
“April? He came closer, peering up at her. “You've got a lot of nerve coming back here after what you did.”
“I know, but it's important. Take me to Jim.”
“Jim?” His voice was as surprised as his face. “Oh, April, I don't know whether you want to see him; he's furious with you. There's no telling what he's liable to do. He thinks you're a spy.”
And there was a possibility that Jim was, too. In that case, she was in danger. Tommy's advice was good, but she made her decision based on love. Love meant trust, and she was willing to wager her life that the man she loved could not possibly be a spy. “I know,” she answered patiently, “but I've got to see him.”
“April, I don't think he's forgiven you. You know, this war can't last forever, and I've got big plans. We could meet in Boston.”
She sighed. He was so young and naive with his great ambitions. “Tommy, I've got to talk to Jim.”
“All right, but don't say I didn't warn you.” Taking her bay horse's bridle, he led her through the dark camp and its rows and rows of tents.
Jim came out of his tent as she rode up, and Tommy said, “Jim, she insisted on seeing you and—”
“Never mind.” Jim dismissed his younger brother with a disgusted wave of his hand. He peered up at April, and in the moonlight she could see the anger on his rugged face. “You've got a hell of a lot of nerve coming back here.”
“Now, Jim,” Tommy said, “I'll protect her if you're thinking of—”
“Shut up, Tommy, and return to your post.”
The boy looked uncertainly at April.
“Go on, Tommy,” she said gently. “I'll be all right.”
“Are you sure? You need me, April, you just yell.”
“Tommy,” Jim thundered, “get back to your post!”
The younger brother fled, looking back over his shoulder.
“Well,” Jim snarled, looking up at her, “I see my younger brother is so smitten with you, he's forgotten what you did.”
She sat her horse, fidgeting under his cold glare. “Aren't you even going to ask me to dismount?”
His frown deepened. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“‘Hello' might have been a good starting point.” She tried to smile, but his expression stayed stormy. “I—I don't blame you for being angry.”
“That's nice of you. Knock me and Tommy in the head, steal my horse and weapons, then leave me out for the Yanks to kill.”
“Tommy?” She hadn't hit Tommy, but maybe the boy had been afraid to tell Jim he'd helped her escape.
“As you can see, he's all right, no thanks to you.”
She wouldn't call Tommy a liar. “As for yourself, you seemed to have made it all right.”
“No thanks to you, you little tart.”
She winced at his words. “Look, Jim, be mad at me if you want to, but I've got important news for General Watie.”
“Then why didn't you go to him?” He folded his arms, but his face was furious.
“I—I didn't think he'd listen to a girl, but he'd listen to you.”
“Okay, talk.” His hostile expression didn't change.
“With what I've got to say, we'd better have some privacy.” She looked around at the other tents, wondering who was listening. If Jim was the spy, she would be putting her life in danger, yet she had to take that chance. She knew deep in her heart that Jim Eagle could never be a traitor to his cause.
He gestured. “All right, get down. I'll give you five minutes.”
“Aren't you going to help me?”
Without a word, he came to the side of the horse, and she slid off to the ground with his arms around her. They stood that way a moment as their eyes locked.
“Oh, Jim,” she whispered, “I've missed you so.”
He didn't mean to do it, but he couldn't stop himself from abruptly pulling her closer and kissing her as if all his pent-up passion was being channeled into this moment. No matter if she was a spy, no matter what she might have done, he loved her; he couldn't stop himself. “Damn you for the hold you have on me.”
This was where she belonged, held tightly in Jim's arms. She laid her face against his broad shoulder and wept.
He stroked her hair. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Should she tell him everything? “I—I've seen Will.”
“Will?” He took her by the shoulders and stared down into her face.
“He's at Fort Gibson.”
“And you've been with him?” he guessed, and pulled away from her. “How much information did you give him about our operations here?”
“Let's go in and talk.” She tried to lead him into his tent, but he resisted.
“You sneaking little spy, what . . . ?”
“I'll tell you, but you may not believe me.” She took his hand and led him into his tent, where a lantern burned feebly.
“Damned right,” he snarled. “You won't take advantage of my feelings for you again. I'll turn you over to General Watie and—”
“At least listen to what I have to say first before you put me in front of a firing squad.”
“Don't tempt me, missy.”
She took a deep breath. “All right, Jim, I am a spy, just like you suspected.”
“I knew it, damn it; I knew it, but I was so taken by you, I let it blind me—”
“Hear me out,” she snapped. “I'm a spy, but for the Confederacy.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “If that isn't the biggest lie I ever—”
“I met with a certain major who said the Confederate upper echelon thought they had a spy here in Indian Territory, and they wanted me to help ferret him out.”
Now he simply stared at her, and then his expression grew cynical. “And what was this major's name?”
“I don't know his real name; he called himself John Smith.”
“Uh-huh. Makes it pretty hard to check, doesn't it? There must be thousands of John Smiths in both armies.”
She shook her head. “Wouldn't do any good—he's dead.”
“How convenient for you. So I'm to believe that some mysterious officer with a fictitious name who is now conveniently dead sent you to spy for our side?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but all I can ask you to do is trust me.”
At this, he threw back his head and laughed. “It's great to have a little humor after all our losses lately.”
How could she convince him? “Look, Jim, you've got good reason not to trust me, but I've got vital information to take to General Watie. I'll tell you and you can decide whether you want to give it to him or not.”
“You risked your life to come here; you realize that?”
She nodded. “It was important enough to take that risk. “Trust me or not; believe this: The Yankees have a big wagon train of supplies coming from Fort Scott, Kansas, headed to Fort Gibson. If you can convince General Watie to intercept it, I understand there's enough food, boots, and blankets to last your men through the winter.”
For a moment he only stared at her; then he chuckled as he shook his head. “You really had me going for a moment there, April. I thought I might be mistaken about your being a Yankee spy, but I see what you're up to now. The Yanks want you to lure us into an ambush, and they'll be waiting to wipe us out. How much are the Yanks paying you?”
She was not going to be able to convince him, and she was getting desperate. “Jim, I swear I am sent by the Confederate higher office. Yes, I'm sure the Yankees would be willing to pay me more, but now the money doesn't matter.”
“I thought money was what you wanted so you could live like a rich white girl in Boston?”
In her frustration she began to cry. “I've changed, Jim; all that matters now is telling you the truth so you won't hate me, helping the Confederates get those supplies so the men can survive. I love you, Jim; please believe me.”
He paused, watching her weep. His heart was in turmoil over this girl whom he had loved for so long but whom he did not, could not, trust. Dare he take a chance on leading soldiers into an ambush based on what this beauty told him? He tried to think, but his heart wouldn't allow him to be rational. He made his decision then, based on love. “All right,” he admitted defeat, “I'll take you to the general and let him listen to your story.”
She wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me,” he snapped. “General Watie may still put you up in front of a firing squad.”
They left the tent together and walked to the old Cherokee's tent, where Jim quickly told the Cherokee leader the story.
Stand Watie questioned April at length. “You say a big wagon train of supplies?”
She nodded. “At least three hundred wagons— enough to keep your troops provisioned for months, General.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced up and down. “Well, Lieutenant, what do you think?”
He hesitated, looking at April, loving her as he had never loved another woman. He couldn't love her without trusting her; he realized that now. “I'm willing to gamble that she's telling the truth, sir.”
“We're taking a mighty big chance,” the general muttered. “It might be an ambush.”
“General,” April said, “I swear I'm telling the truth.”
The old man paused and peered at her keenly. “How did you get this information?”
April hesitated. She couldn't bear to let Jim Eagle know she suspected his brother was involved in an espionage operation. “I—I overheard officers talking. Jim's brother Will is one of those assigned to bring the supply train in.”
“Will?” Jim asked.
She nodded. “I know that complicates things for you.”
Jim sighed. “It's war; things happen that we can't control.”
“Hmm.” The old man paced some more. “Lieutenant, if you'd rather not go on this mission—”
“No.” Jim shook his head. “Begging your pardon, sir, but our men are hungry and ragged. If I can help bring in supplies, I'll do whatever's necessary.”
The old man looked at him a moment. “Let me confer with General Gano before I decide. You two are dismissed.”
Jim Eagle saluted smartly, and he and April left.
“Well,” he said, “I've gone out on a limb with this, missy. I've staked my career and a great many men's lives on believing that you're telling the truth.”
April hesitated. Should she tell Jim that Will had hinted there was a spy in the Confederate camp? Suppose he had been lying. Suppose it was Jim. “I'm telling the truth, Jim. Eventually, you can check it with Confederate headquarters.”
He paused in front of his tent and took both her hands in his. “It'll be weeks before I could get a message through, and you know it. Right now all I can do is trust you.”
“Oh, Jim . . .” She went into his arms.
He held her, kissing her eyes, her face, very gently. “I know I shouldn't want you, but I do. However, if you're leading us into a trap—”
“I wouldn't do that, Jim. I—I love you. And something else: When I told you I was a whore, that was a lie because I knew you wouldn't believe the truth. You're the first and only man I've ever been with.”
He only stared down into her face in the darkness. “Somehow, I think I knew that,” he whispered; then, silently, he took her hand and led her into his tent. “It will be a while before the general makes his decision,” he whispered.
They made slow, gentle love, each knowing that with the impending raid, they might not be alive tomorrow. As he kissed her and held her close, April wondered if she should tell him her other secret. No, she decided, that would only complicate things right now.

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