In His Eyes: A Civil War Romance Page 24

  Westley reached the barn, which could certainly use a fresh coat of whitewash. He kicked open the doors from where they hung up on the untrimmed grass and led the horse inside the dank interior. He frowned. It seemed no one had been in here in quite some time. Westley turned the animal around in the dusty aisle.

  He patted the horse’s neck. “Too pretty of a day to keep you in that dark barn. How about I hobble you here in the yard and you can help me tame some of this wild grass?”

  The horse’s nostrils quivered and the gelding tugged on the bridle, plunging his muzzle toward the ground. Westley laughed and after a brief survey of the barn for a bit of rope, secured the horse’s legs so that the gelding could wander about the yard without running off. Then he gave the beast another pat and turned toward the house.

  His hand had barely rested on the doorknob when an agonizing scream cut through the house and sliced into him. Startled, Westley wrenched open the door, dropped his cane at the bottom of the stairs, and took the steps two at a time.

  Ella’s wails came from behind her door and his heart lurched. The boy. Fear gouged him, making mincemeat of his insides. He stood frozen in the upper hall, unsure he wanted to see what waited on the other side of the door.

  Please, God, I beg of you. Don’t take the boy from her.

  The words leapt forth, seeming of their own accord. But God would not listen to the likes of him. Whatever they faced, they would face it on their own. With a fortifying breath, Westley jerked open the door, taking in the scene in a single glance. Ella clutched the child to her chest and sobbed, her shoulders heaving. Basil stood in the corner wringing her hands with tears streaming down her dark face, and Sibby stared at the child, her features stricken.

  He must be dead.

  Westley hardened his jaw and walked to Ella with a hitched gate. She looked up at him, her eyes vacant and red-rimmed. The haunted look twisted his gut.

  No! Had the woman not suffered enough? He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they would break.

  “Oh, Ella. If only there were something I could do.” He reached out to touch the babe’s head, then let his arm drop to his side and closed his eyes.

  Where are you, God? You are not who my mother claimed. You do not care about us suffering souls banished to your creation.

  He opened his eyes to find Ella staring at him.

  “He…he’s barely breathing, Westley,” she said, blinking up at him with desperation as though he could do anything in the world to stop what would come next. “I…I tried to pray, but….” her voice disintegrated as she stared at him.

  Westley knew, from somewhere deep within him that he could not explain, that if this child died, the woman before him would never again be the same. The little dragon who had set her claws so deeply into him that he would never again be the same would shrivel into a mere shadow of the fiery woman he had come to know. And he could not abide by that.

  God, I need to know. If you exist, let me see it. Show me. Please, I beg of you, sinner that I am, hear me!

  Westley reached out his hand and placed it on the baby’s head. For her. This he could do for her. “God of creation, the one my mother called the One True King, Maker of heaven and earth, I beg of you to hear my plea.”

  Ella stilled, her eyes growing wide. Westley’s pulse quickened. He had not prayed since he was a child. Who was he to call on God now, when he had never submitted to any of the Creator’s ways? He bowed his head anyway. If there was any hope at all, even as unlikely as this may be, it would be in prayer.

  He cleared his throat. “Lord, forgive me, a worthless sinner who has done much evil in your sight, for coming to you. But Lord, this child needs you. I beg of you, show us that we are not completely forgotten, and that somewhere up in the heavens you still hear the desperate cries of men.”

  The baby stirred under his hand, and began to cough weakly. A tingle ran through him, starting at his core and shooting like lightning to his fingers. He drew a quick breath. “God, I beg of you to heal this child as you did people when you walked the earth. I….” He hesitated, and his voice grew raspy. “I believe in you, and that you are able. Please, Jesus, be willing to heal this boy.”

  Lee gulped a mighty breath and began hacking. Ella squealed and turned him to the side, and the baby coughed up thick lumps of mucus. Westley stepped back, amazed. Had his prayer been heard?

  Ella patted the baby and Sibby wiped away everything the child spit up, time and time again. He kept coughing, his tiny chest heaving violently. Westley’s fists tightened as doubt set in. Would the child end up dying of the spasms instead of peacefully in his mother’s arms?

  Finally, when Westley thought he could endure it no longer, the coughing subsided. Ella bounced the baby and smeared the tears off her face. Then she looked up at him with wonder in her sparkling green eyes and he shifted uncomfortably.

  “Your prayer has been answered.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We don’t know that yet.”

  “Ha!” Sibby pointed a finger at him. “This here be a miracle, plain and simple.”

  Westley rubbed the tight muscles on the nape of his neck and took a tentative step closer. “Perhaps.”

  Ella beamed up at him and held out the boy who carried his name. “Come and see.” She dipped her delicate chin toward the babe. “He heard you, Westley, and he answered.”

  Westley stepped closer and cupped his hand under the child’s head, drawing the baby up to his chest. The tiny face tilted toward him, blinking clear dark eyes. Westley stared. His prayer had been answered, and God had unequivocally shredded all of Westley’s doubts about whether the Creator heard their cries. Perhaps he did not answer all of their pleas, but he had answered this one.

  His chest constricted as the baby wriggled a fist from the wrapping and waved it around. Despite the tumultuous emotions battling within him, Westley smiled. “Ah, little fighter, there you are. You gave your mother and me quite a scare.”

  He heard Ella’s quick intake of breath and realized that he had spoken as though they were a family. This protectiveness he felt, would it be enough? He held her in affection, of that he could admit.

  He caught Ella regarding him. As he held her gaze for an instant before she glanced away, her eyes revealed something her words never could. Something that stirred things deep within him.

  And as she stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm as she smiled down at the baby, he knew she held him in an affectionate regard as well. Suddenly the decision that had weighed on him all night and had plucked at his mind all day came to rest.

  He would ask Ella to shed the ruse, and take his name in truth.

  Ella watched as Westley spread out a large patchwork quilt next to one of the magnolia trees in Belmont’s front yard. Light caressed the tree’s shiny leaves and dropped to the green grass as birds sang softly overhead. As though to place a finishing bow on such a fine scene, a butterfly glided down and drifted around Westley’s head.

  Three days had passed since he had prayed over Lee, and her wee one had gained strength with each passing hour thereafter. A miracle, indeed. She swayed, rocking Lee gently as he cooed in the dappled light under the tree. Looking at him now, she would never guess he’d been very close to the grave. He’d regained his appetite, and his little cheeks were rosy.

  Ella sighed with contentment and let her gaze drift back over to the man who set down a picnic basket on the corner of the quilt. Dressed in dark trousers and bracers, he’d taken off his jacket and had rolled up his shirt sleeves, leaving muscular forearms exposed. He must have been a rather large man, indeed, to be this strong after so long a battle with injury. His shoulders stretched the fabric as he bent to straighten a corner of the quilt, and the way he’d left the collar of his white shirt open exposed the hollow of his throat.

  He looked up and caught her eye, and she felt her cheeks warm. But she smiled anyway, enjoying the way the gentle breeze teased his hair. “You were right. This is a perfect day for a
picnic.”

  He grinned, then shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at her somewhat sheepishly. He had been acting rather odd these last days. He’d been kind and attentive, but…also a bit nervous. The intensity of the other night seemed to have affected him greatly. She’d tried a few times to engage him in conversation on the matter, but he seemed reluctant so she’d let it go. Whatever spiritual issues he faced, he was not yet ready to discuss them.

  She offered a reassuring smile and then lowered to her knees to nestle Lee in the blanket Westley had arranged into a little nest for him. Lee swung his tiny fists around, then took to sucking on one of them. Ella rubbed the top of his head and then sat, arranging her voluminous skirts around her.

  “I’m making a dress for you.”

  Ella blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” The corners of her lips twitched. The very idea of this stoic soldier contemplating fripperies amused her.

  Westley ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I’m not making it, of course. Sibby had your measurements.” He lifted his broad shoulders. “So I gave them to the seamstress.”

  Ella smiled. He seemed almost boyish. “That was most kind of you, but rather unnecessary.”

  Westley shook his head. “No, it is quite necessary. I don’t want you wearing those widow’s gowns anymore.”

  She inclined her head. “Very well. I have others.”

  He tugged on the collar of his shirt, seeming restless, as though the topic of dresses caused him some kind of angst. “Not the ragged work dresses, either.” He held up a finger before she could respond. “Or anything that came from that har…..” He glanced at Lee and cleared his throat. “Any of the items you procured from the lady of the night.”

  “Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “Has my wardrobe become an area of concern for you?”

  His jaw twitched. “I merely think that as the lady of this house you should be attired appropriately.”

  An uneasy feeling slid through her. There could only be one reason he worried over such things now. He was preparing to leave. She’d known such a time would eventually arrive, yet had grown lax in her efforts to guard herself against it. Despite her determination to feel otherwise, the thought of him departing tugged at her heart. “I see. May I assume, then, that you are getting ready to return to duty, and you will honor your agreement to hire me as an overseer for the house?”

  Instead of answering right away, Westley turned to the picnic basket and plucked two plates out, handing one to Ella. “You are partially correct. I sent a telegram to my superior officer, and it has been decided that I will take a position in the western territories.”

  Ella accepted the plate and set it in front of her. “The western territories? I have heard that is dangerous.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “There have been tales that redskins will cut the scalp from your head.” She shuddered.

  Westley chuckled. “Precisely why there is a need for men to go, and when I volunteered, they were all too happy to accommodate me.”

  Ella’s mouth went dry. “You volunteered for that?”

  He regarded her closely. “I did. Three days ago when I went to see Colonel Larson to settle Belmont’s debts.”

  Ella clasped her hands in her lap. It was no business of hers where he chose to go. “I see. Well, Major Remington, I will pray that you remain safe in all your endeavors.”

  The little muscle in the side of his jaw twitched, which Ella had come to learn meant that something she’d said upset him.

  “I leave in three days.”

  “Three?” she squeaked, horrified that her emotions could so easily be read. She turned her gaze away. “I thought you stated your furlough lasted for months, and it has hardly been that long.”

  “I know. Furlough has been cut short.”

  By orders, or his own request? Ella tried not to let the idea that he would rather return to the army than stay here with her hurt, but her heart disregarded her wishes. As though to soothe it, Ella reached up and fumbled with the lapels on her gown.

  Westley’s features tightened as he pulled thick slices of fresh bread, slabs of ham, and a jar of pear preserves from the basket. He set about fixing the plates, and Ella watched him somberly. She had no reason at all to be upset. He had agreed to hire her, and she would have more luxury here than she’d ever known. And the position of lady of the house would offer her some manner of security.

  “Ella, I have been meaning to ask you something….”

  An odd tone to his voice had her setting down the fork she’d been fidgeting with and looking up into his eyes. He stared at her, flashes of emotions she could not place sparking in his intense gaze. Ella’s breath caught.

  “Why is there a goat by the cistern?”

  Her breath left her in a whoosh. “Pardon?”

  His shoulders slumped. “I…wondered why there was a goat in a makeshift pen by the cistern.”

  She blinked at him.

  He cleared his throat. “I asked Sibby about it, and she said I should take that up with you.” He cocked his head. “Where did you get a goat?”

  “Sibby gave it to me.”

  “Where….” He shook his head, his eyes suddenly brimming with amusement. “What is the goat for, Ella?”

  She glanced at Lee. “Milk. In case for any reason something was to happen, I would still be able to care for him.”

  Concern chased all traces of humor from his eyes. “You worry that you might be in a desperate position?”

  Ella bit her lip. “Well, I have learned that one never knows what tomorrow may hold. I find it prudent to prepare as much as possible.”

  Westley plucked a slice of fluffy bread from the plate and tore off a chunk, rolling it in his fingers. “As much as I am able to do so, I have determined that I will protect you and be sure that you are comfortable and secure.”

  Warmth spread through her, and she quickly doused it. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Did you not just say that you would be leaving in three days?”

  “I did.”

  “And you shall offer me all of these things while you are all the way out in the western territories?” The bite in her tone surprised her, and Ella had to tamp down her emotions before they found their way farther out of her mouth.

  Westley watched her, his intense gaze searing into her. “Ella, I—”

  Ella held up a hand. “Forgive me, Major. That was entirely inappropriate of me. I do not know what possessed me to say such a thing.” She conjured a smile and forced it to take up residence upon her lips, though they seemed to balk at the effort. “I am deeply grateful that you have allowed me employment and a place of residence at Belmont. Of course those things have given me a great measure of security.”

  He leaned back on his hands, his plate now as forgotten as her own. A breeze lifted bits of his sun-kissed mahogany hair and sent locks dancing across his forehead, and Ella found herself wishing that he were not so handsome. She crossed her arms and looked away. Though she must admit that even if he were not such a physically appealing man, she would still be attracted to him. Something deeper than his refined looks and muscular build called to her.

  “I am not hiring you as a housekeeper….” Westley said, jarring her from her thoughts.

  Alarm swept through her.

  “And I do not wish for you to continue with the ruse. I—”

  Ella threw up her hands, arresting the remainder of whatever he was about to say. “You lied!” She lurched to her feet, too filled with energy to remain docile on the ground. She whirled around to glare at him. “You said I could work here! Now that you are leaving you are going to send me away?”

  Her breathing increased, and Ella clenched her hands at her sides. A good thing she had secured that goat. Lee had not seemed interested in any way of eating other than nursing, but she would simply have to teach him. She’d been wise to take her options in hand. How could she have so easily forgotten that underneath their charm men could not be trusted?


  Westley rose and stepped over the uneaten food, reaching for her. “Now, Ella, calm down. You didn’t let me finish.”

  She stepped back away from his grip, her pulse pounding. “There is no need for further explanation.” She made a move toward Lee. “Since it is your intention for me to leave the premises, I see no reason why I should stay here a moment longer.”

  She reached to pick up Lee, but Westley caught her by the arm and used his bulk to turn her to face him. He chuckled. “And here I worried that perhaps you didn’t hold true affection for me.”

  She stopped breathing. She blinked up at him. Did he think to mock her? She sucked in a gulp of air and opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  “I’m not hiring you and I want you to drop the ruse because I have something different in mind.”

  Ella snapped her mouth closed and narrowed her eyes. She would be no man’s leman.

  Westley dropped her arm, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This is not at all how I planned this to go,” he mumbled.

  Ella’s brow furrowed. The man made no sense.

  Westley straightened, and he looked the stern officer once more. “Miss Whitaker, I intended to ask you to take my name in truth, as my legal wife.”

  Her jaw unhinged and she shook her head to clear the pulsing in her ears, certain she had heard him incorrectly.

  “Now, don’t say no just yet before you have even heard my proposition,” he said with a growl.

  Ella stilled. Proposition? Had he not just asked her to marry him? Her heart fluttered. Had Westley Remington become fidgety because of her? Did he….love her? She tried to swallow, and found her throat too thick to do so.

  “It would be in name only, of course.”

  Her heart shuddered in its ascent and crashed on shattered rocks below. “Name only?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “As my wife you will have access to my accounts and a manner of protection. And if anything happens to me out west, I can rest in the assurance that you will be provided for and secure for the remainder of your years. Lee will inherit Belmont, and you will both be able to live a comfortable life.”