The Fire Within
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Megan put the rifle in easy reach against the cabinet and reached in the water where the uniform was soaking. It was heavy and almost black in the water. She held it up to drain, then squeezed as much water as she could from the fabric. Did Seth have such a warm coat? She tried not to think about that.
When she had it as dry as possible, she took the uniform to the fire and hung it over the rocker to dry. She didn’t dare risk putting it on the line outside. To ensure it would dry quickly, she added another log to the fire. Although she had no intention of returning the uniform to him until he was well enough to travel, she couldn’t risk having Bridget or her mother come in and see it drying.
While she waited, she washed the long underlinen and bandages, then put the bandages in a pot to boil by the fire. She hung the underlinen on the chair with the uniform.
“Miss Llewellyn?” Caleb called from the other room.
“What is it?”
“Who won the battle?”
“I’d say we did. Mama said your side was in retreat when they were seen going down the mountain. I couldn’t tell from what I saw in the clearing. There was nothing left but dead horses.”
“Did you say my horse was dead?”
Megan went to the bedroom door. “If you were riding a big bay with a blaze face, he was. There was such a horse lying beside you. You’re lucky he didn’t pin you underneath him. I might not have been able to get you out.”
“I probably owe you my life. Thank you.”
Her eyes met his and she found it difficult to turn away. His silvery eyes were hypnotic and seemed able to look into her soul. “You’re welcome. I would have done as much for your horse, but he was already dead.”
“Thanks,” he said wryly.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that I love animals and would have taken care of him. Were you fond of him?”
“Not very. He was a good animal, but I didn’t have him that long.”
Megan leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. “That just goes to show how different we are. I could love an animal at first sight. Especially if it was one I considered to be a ‘good animal.’”
“You learn not to be attached to horses in a war. I’ve had several shot out from under me. I stayed detached on purpose.”
“Can you do that? Remain detached? I’ve never learned how to turn my feelings on and off like that.” She knew she was goading him, turning his own words against him, but she was upset. “You take Seth, for instance. He’s fond of drink, and if the truth were told, of loose women as well. But I don’t stop loving him. I can’t. If I could, I might be less human.”
“Or you might be simply discerning. Why do you want to marry a man who drinks and runs after loose women?”
Megan frowned and straightened. “I don’t know why I told you that. I don’t want you talking about Seth.” His words echoed thoughts she had had in the past. More than once she had wondered why she loved Seth. Could it be merely habit? Or the fact that no other man in the settlement cared about her? “Get some rest,” she said sharply, and left the room.
Caleb didn’t close his eyes. She had a number of weaknesses. He was certain to be able to use one of them to escape. He had no intention of remaining here until she got around to trading him, even if such a thing were feasible. She was too quick at pointing a gun at him. What if she got word that Seth had died or escaped? She might shoot him just to be rid of him.
He looked around the room. It was small and the chinking between the logs seemed new. The floor was made of broad pine planks instead of dirt or split logs, so someone had gone to a great deal of effort to build it for her. What had she said? It was meant to be the house she and Seth would share. He wondered if Seth had built it himself. It was unusual for a new cabin to have more than one room. Rooms were usually added later as children arrived. In many cabins the children just slept in the loft until they were grown and had places of their own. For a cabin, this was quite grand.
It was also clean. After living in tents or on the open ground for the past four years, Caleb didn’t take cleanliness for granted. Once the war was over, he planned to bathe three times a day.
Megan’s clothing hung on pegs in one corner. There were three changes of dress, an everyday poke bonnet, a Sunday bonnet, a lightweight shawl. Beneath was a pair of polished black shoes with a pair of white cotton stockings rolled neatly in them.
Caleb turned his bead and studied the wall beside him. Unlike the outer walls, this one was of pine planking. A drawing of a raccoon beside a stream was nailed to it. The drawing was unusually good and he wondered who had done it.
A color caught his eye and he reached into the crack between the bed and wall and brought out a red book. Beneath it was a green one. Caleb was educated, as were his mother and sister, but he knew it wasn’t common to find mountain women who could read enough to enjoy a book. “Is this yours?” he called out.
“What now?” Megan came back to the doorway. When she saw the books in his hand, she froze.
“These books. Are you reading them?” He read the titles. “The Mysteries of Udolpho? You’re reading Mrs. Radcliffe? And this other one is on Greek mythology. Are they yours?”
“Give them to me.” She came to the bed and held out her hand. He noticed she was trembling.
Slowly he handed them over. “I’ve read both. Are you enjoying them?”
She glared at him. “There’s no need for you to tease me, Captain Morgan. I assure you I can read—probably as well as you can. And yes, I am enjoying them.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”
Megan turned on him, her books tucked protectively under her arm. “Why should I believe anything you say? I wasn’t born yesterday. I know men don’t like to know women can read. That’s why I hid them. How was I to know you’d come along and end up in my bed?” She realized what she had said and blushed.
Caleb smiled at her choice of words. “Can’t we talk like civilized people? We’ve found a common ground. We both read and we apparently like the same books. Have you read the others by Mrs. Radcliffe?”
Megan came a step nearer although her movements were reluctant. “Has she written others?”
“Three others. My favorite is Mysteries of Udolpho but I also enjoyed The Romance of the Forest.”
“I’ve read Udolpho three times. I bought it because it was the thickest one on the shelf.” She looked away. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this. You’re my prisoner. I couldn’t care less what books you read, or if you read at all.”
“Why were you hiding them?”
“That’s none of your business!” She turned and stalked from the room.
Caleb watched her go. In spite of himself he was intrigued by her. He had never known anyone to be so defensive about reading a book. Who had forbidden her to read? It was obvious someone had. Why else would she be hiding them in her own house? Caleb’s family were all voracious readers and he couldn’t imagine his sister reading in secret or hiding a book. Most of the girls he had known in Pollard’s Crossing read to some extent, some more than others. It wouldn’t have occurred to any of them to defend their right to read.
He moved his body lower in the bed. She was a mystery, his jailer. Under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed solving that mystery a great deal. Now, he only wanted to get out of here and either join his regiment or be sent home.
Home. It was like thinking of heaven. The war hadn’t reached Pollard’s Crossing, according to his parents’ letters, so it would be waiting for him just as he left it. He was determined to survive this hell of a war and go back home again. Just now survival meant rest. He could smell Megan cooking food in the other room and his stomach rumbled expectantly. He had to get his strength back and heal quickly so he could be on his way.
Chapter Three
Caleb watched as Megan sat on the side of the bed and started untying the bandage on his arm. She was trying to ignore the fact he was looking at her. “Tell me about yourself,” he said.
She glanced at him in surprise. “There’s nothing more to tell. You already know I’m promised to Seth Brennan and that I’m going to use you to get him back.”
“There’s more to you than that. Have you lived in the settlement all your life?”
“Of course. I was born there. So were my brother and sister.”
“You didn’t mention a brother yesterday. I gather he’s off fighting on the Confederate side?”
For a long time she was silent. “We don’t talk about Owen. And no, he’s fighting for the North.” She closed her mouth as if she had said too much.
Caleb was intrigued. “He’s on my side? Then why are your parents Confederate?”
“When Owen joined up Papa disowned him. As far as the settlement is concerned, Owen is dead.”
His voice softened. “Are those tears in your eyes?”
“No.” She turned away abruptly and reached for the pan of clean water.
“I can do this for myself,” he said.
“I don’t want to take a chance on you pulling the wound open. You’ve lost too much blood as it is.” She gently washed the wound clean and put another bandage around it.
Caleb automatically caught the quilt as she tried to pull it away. Her dark eyes met his. “I have to keep you clean. As for modesty, I’ve seen you already.”
Caleb surrendered the quilt. When she removed the bandage, he caught his breath at the pain. This wound was far more severe than the one on his arm. For a moment his senses reeled as if he were about to pass out.
“You’re still weak,” she said. “That’s why I’m doing this for you.” She kept the covers over as much of him as possible as she probed the swollen flesh circling the wound. “This one doesn’t look so good.”
He raised himself on his elbows and looked. Again his head spun. “Is the bullet still in it?” He dreaded her answer. If it was, she would have to cut it out.
She shook her head. “The bullet went clean through. I don’t think it even nicked the bone, at least not as far as I can tell. I had hoped it would mend as quickly as the other one. Of course it’s still fresh. It’s too soon to know if it’s going bad.”
Caleb had seen many wounds and he knew this one could be a problem. He had also seen too many amputations in field hospitals. “Promise me something. Don’t cut off my leg. If it goes bad, I might pass out and not know what you’re doing. Promise me.”
“I don’t plan to cut off your leg, Captain Morgan. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to do that.”
“Neither do most army doctors. If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it with all my parts intact. Promise me.”
Her eyes met his. “I promise.”
He lay back with relief. “During the first part of the war I was assigned to oversee the wounded and be certain they received medical treatment. I saw things in the hospital tent that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”
Megan lifted his leg enough to slide the fresh bandage beneath and tied it into place. Caleb bit back his pain. “I know that hurts,” she said, “but we have to keep it clean or it will go bad.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t know it for sure, but cleanliness can’t hurt. When I cut myself, it seems to heal quicker if I keep the place clean.”
“I know some army doctors who should take lessons from you.” He tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one.
“Besides, I want you to heal fast so I can get Seth back sooner.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“You don’t seem eager to talk about yourself and I’m trying to have a conversation.” Caleb needed to know all he could find out about his captor if he was going to escape.
“There’s not much to say about him, either. We grew up together. Everybody has assumed all my life that we would marry.”
“Is that why you’re marrying him?”
“Of course not. I love him.” She frowned slightly, as if she were considering the question. “What about you? Are you married?” She ducked her head. “I was thinking that if you are, I could get word to her somehow that you’re alive. I’d want someone to do the same for me.”
“No, I’m not married.”
She looked at him with her level gaze. “Why not?”
He smiled at her straightforwardness. “I never met a woman I wanted to talk to all my life.”
Megan put her head to one side. “That’s a funny way to put it. Talking is really important to you, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t it to you?”
“The men in my family rarely talk to their wives and daughters. They talk to each other, I guess, but only about crops and hunting. Things like that. What would you have to tell a woman that would take the rest of your life to say?”
“That I love her, for one thing. I wouldn’t marry her unless I did and that’s something that needs to be said often, assuming it’s true.”
Megan frowned and let her hands drop into her lap. “I never in my life heard Papa tell Mama he loves her.”
“Most likely that takes place at night when they’re alone.”
She laughed. “You never lived in a cabin, did you? There’s not much privacy.” She caught herself and stood. “I have things to do.”
“I like talking to you. Can’t they wait?”
She went to the door, the soiled bandages soaking in the pan of water. “I’m not used to talking so much. I have work to do.” She paused as if she were considering coming back into the room, then left, pulling the door shut behind her.
Caleb lay back on the pillows. She intrigued him. Certainly she was nothing like anyone he had ever known before. “Doesn’t Seth talk to you?” he called out.
She opened the door again. She had already put the bandages to soak in clean water and was drying her hands. “What?”
“I said, doesn’t Seth talk to you?”
“He talks to me when he has something to say. What sort of a question is that?”
“But does he talk just to hear what you think or feel?”
Megan laughed, then saw that he was serious. “Captain Morgan, we have a lot more work to do here in Black Hollow than you seem to realize. We don’t have time to stand around talking about nothing in particular. Who would wash the clothes and mend the fences and repair the shutters if we spent the day in conversation?”
“It seems to me Seth would want to know about your thoughts and feelings if he’s in love with you.”
“Seth loves me,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. “You don’t even know him. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“You don’t seem to be accustomed to talking to a man.”
“Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to talk to the enemy. Have you thought about that, Captain Morgan?” she retorted.
“Call me Caleb. It seems only right since I’m sleeping in your bed.” A thought suddenly struck him. “There is another bed, isn’t there? For you?”
“I’m quite comfortable in the back room on a pallet.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you had two bedrooms—with beds.”
Megan gave him an exasperated look. “Does this look like a palace to you? I have one good feather bed and you’re on it. When I have children and they grow old enough to need a bed, Mama and I will stuff another ticking. Until then, it would just go to waste.”
“Why didn’t you put me on the pallet instead of in here?”
“I guess I just didn’t have time to think about it. You were hurt so bad and this was the closest bed.”
“But you left me on it, even after I started getting better.”
“Captain Morgan...”
“Caleb.”
“If you want to sleep on the floor, I’d be glad to oblige. But right now, I have a wash to do and a fire to tend in the smokehouse. I can’t stand around here all day and do nothing but talk.” She turned and pulled the door firmly shut behind her.
Caleb sighed and opened The Mysteries of Udolpho. He started on the first page. The familiar words greeted him. His convalescence would be long if there was no one willing to talk to him. Until now he had never realized how much he enjoyed conversation. “On the pleasant banks of the Garonne, in the province of Gascony...” he began reading.
“Here are your things,” Megan said, holding out a handful of the objects Caleb had carried in his pocket. There was a pocket watch, the money left from his last paycheck, a locket. “She’s very pretty.” Megan had the grace to blush. “I looked inside. Normally I wouldn’t have pried, but under the circumstances...”
“If I can share your bed, you can examine the content of my pockets. I think she’s beautiful.”
“Is she your intended?”
“No, she’s my sister.”
Megan found herself smiling. “Your sister?”
“Her name is Felicity, but that’s a contradiction. She’s full of mischief. Since she’s the youngest, we’ve all spoiled her shamelessly.” His expression told Megan he loved his sister and didn’t regret the spoiling in the least.
Megan wondered what it would be like to be pampered. Also, this talk about brother and sister made her miss Owen a great deal.
“Were you spoiled as a child, Miss Llewellyn?”
“Certainly not. And you may call me Megan. After all, you gave me permission to call you by your first name so it’s only proper.”
“And after all, I’m sharing your bed.”
“Will you stop saying that?” She frowned at him in exasperation. It put too many ideas into her head. In the few days he had been here, she had started to find him far too interesting. “In the Hollow we don’t believe in spoiling children. It only leads to trouble later.”
“I don’t believe that it does. How can it hurt to love a child?” His gray eyes gazed into hers and she had the uncanny impression that he could see her thoughts.
She turned away. “I was loved. Just not spoiled.”
“I would think Seth would pamper you a great deal.”
Megan didn’t want to talk about Seth to Caleb. He always came off in a bad light. “I’ll remind him to do that as soon as he comes home again,” she said tersely.
“If you were my fiancée, I would treat you as if you were the most beautiful and the most cherished woman in the world.”
She looked at him in surprise.
Caleb looked away this time. “Sorry. I guess I overstepped the bounds. It’s none of my business how Seth or anyone else treats you.”
“That’s all right.” She was dismayed at the surge of warmth his words had caused. Had he been able to tell? She was afraid to meet his eyes. Reluctantly she came farther into the room. “Seth means well. He really does. I’m a plain person, Capt—Caleb. I’m not used to frills, nor was I brought up to want them. Seth is the sort of man I’ve known all my life. He’s like my father and my uncles and my cousins. He fits into my life. It’s not natural for men like Seth to pamper their women.”
“I think all women bloom when it’s obvious that they’re loved. I couldn’t love a woman and not treat her as if she were a fragile treasure.”
Megan laughed. “Fragile treasures don’t haul water from wells and hoe gardens. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a woman like that. There aren’t any fine ladies in the Hollow.”
He smiled at her as if he disagreed with her. For a moment Megan wondered if he were trying to sweet-talk her in order to get her to free him. But that made no sense. He couldn’t walk as far as the road, let alone all the way to a Union camp. Besides, she had already told him she would return him to his people in exchange for Seth as soon as possible. No, she must have misunderstood him altogether.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Tell me about your sister. Does she like to sew?”
“Yes, but she prefers to read. Felicity has loved reading all her life. Even before she learned to make out words, she had me read her stories. Mama would have been appalled if she knew half of what we read. Felicity’s head was so filled with pirates and sunken treasures, she had trouble sleeping.”
Against her will, Megan was intrigued. She went to the straight-backed chair and picked up her darning. “Your parents didn’t object to her reading?”
“Of course not. They encouraged it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how that can be. I know Bridget and I are busy all day with chores and have been ever since I can remember. Mama would never have the time to sit down and read. Neither would Papa, for that matter. How is it that your family has all this spare time?” She expertly dropped the darning egg into the sock and started making the tiny stitches to repair the heel.
“I suppose we just live differently.”
“I suppose. Do you live in a city?”
“Yes. Pollard’s Crossing isn’t as large as, say, Chicago by any means, but it’s still a city.”
“You’ve seen Chicago?” Megan’s fingers stopped momentarily.
“Several times. Have you?”
“No,” she said with a laugh at the idea. “I’ve never been beyond Raintree.” She glanced at him to see if that lowered her in his estimation. He was only looking at the locket he still held in his hand.
“I think you and Felicity would be friends.”
“We have so much in common,” she said wryly.
“Actually you do. She loves Mrs. Radcliffe’s books above all else. She can even quote complete passages from Udolpho.”
“How old is she?”
“Nineteen.”
“We’re almost the same age.”
“I thought you must be.”
“I’m quite close to my sister, Bridget. She doesn’t like to read but she knows I do and she’s helped me hide my books from time to time. She can read,” Megan added quickly, “but she prefers not to.”
“Does she have red hair, too?” he asked with a smile.
Megan automatically reached up and touched her hair. Red hair wasn’t considered a beauty trait in the Hollow. “Yes. Hers is even more red than mine. We get it from Mama.”
“And does Owen also have red hair?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve told you I’m not supposed to talk about him. He’s dead to the family. But his hair is the same color as mine. Dark red.”
“Auburn,” Caleb said. “That’s what I’d call it. It’s beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t say such personal things. We’re stuck here together until you get well. I can’t allow you to be so intimate.”
“We’re only talking about your brother’s and sister’s hair coloring. That’s not too intimate, surely.” He sounded innocent but she caught the teasing sparkle in his eyes. If she were a different person in a different place, she would think he was actually flirting with her.
“Are you forgetting I’m promised to Seth?”
“Not for a single minute.”
She laid her darning in her lap and looked at him. “You confuse me. You’re not like any man I know. Not at all.”
“Yes, I’m certain that’s true. In my family we don’t believe in working a woman from sunup to sundown.”
With a frown she said, “That’s not fair. You don’t know my family or what we’re like.”
“That’s true. I apologize.” But he was smiling as if he were enjoying teasing her.
Megan put her darning back into her workbasket. “I have other chores to do while it’s daylight. You’ll have to amuse yourself. Memorize Udolpho while I’m gone.”
He opened it to the back. “All seven hundred pages?” he asked with a grin.
“I have a lot of chores. You’ll have time.” She left him and went into the other room.
For a minute she leaned against the wall, feeling its bumpy sturdiness and trying to remember who she was and, more important, who he was. This was her enemy. She couldn’t indulge in a flirtation with him even if she wasn’t engaged to Seth. She felt unfaithful as it was. What had she been thinking of to sit in the bedroom with him and do her needlework, just as if he were a family member? Megan pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. After this she would be more careful.
She went out onto the porch. A cold wind had blown in the night before and the air had a snap of winter in it. She pulled her knitted shawl closer about her shoulders. There was kindling to chop and corn to be shelled. A shutter had worked loose during the night’s wind and she tried to put it back into place. It dropped at an angle again. She would have to go out to the shed beside the smokehouse and find a hammer and one of the square nails Patrick made for the settlement. It was hard for one person to keep up a house.