Chapter 3
Devon sliced into the quarter of roasted chicken on his plate.
Since leaving his regiment at Brownsville, his meals on the road had included little more than hardtack and salted pork.
His mouth watered at the abundant fare before him—rice, tomatoes, squash, and freshly made bread, even butter.
The lower half of Eastern Texas was making do with scraps and wondering how they were going to get through the winter, and these people ate like they’d never heard of a war or a drought.
Maybe it was because he was a guest, maybe not.
But he knew one thing for sure—the folks down in the slave cabins on the backside of the plantation weren’t eating like this.
His stomach twinged as he glanced at the ceiling.
Morning Fawn was somewhere upstairs. A prisoner of her uncle’s once again.
Because of Devon. But what was he supposed to do?
Let her run off to the city or some cow town with a stolen horse and gun, without a penny to her name, not even a pair of shoes?
Besides, he hadn’t known it was her. Better he stop her than a posse. Did the girl even stop to think?
Across the table from him, Miss Thea LeBeau’s silk dress rustled as she shifted forward.
“Mr. Reynolds, I’d love to hear about your battles.
We receive so little news here.” Her auburn hair fell in ringlets along the sides of her pale skin.
Despite her Grecian nose, she was fairly attractive, but the way she’d waltzed into the dining room like royalty was enough to make him look the other way.
“Thea, darling, give the man a chance to eat his dinner.” Mrs. Judith LeBeau dabbed her mouth, her own hair a duller shade of auburn with gray streaks. “A soldier doesn’t always like to speak of such things.”
LeBeau leaned back in his seat while a servant girl scooped gravy onto his chicken breast. “But we must hear the lieutenant’s story, Judith.
” He tugged on his striped waistcoat. “Last I heard, Reynolds, you planned to use your three hundred dollar reward for rescuing my niece to pay your substitution fee and avoid conscription. Did you have a change of heart, or was it that trouble you ran into up at Fort Belknap?”
“The trouble at Belknap was nothing. Just a disgruntled colonel with a grudge over a parcel of land. He refused to take my word that I was on my way to pay my fee—”
“You considered paying someone to go in your place?” Thea fluttered her fingers against the lace fichu which covered her bosom. “Most of the young men of my acquaintance welcomed the chance to become a soldier and serve the Confederacy.”
“I didn’t have to dream of being a soldier. I was one.” Devon pressed his lips together. He’d been a fine soldier once, but he had no intention of fighting for a Rebel fiefdom. “I was in the U.S. cavalry before the war, ma’am. Left the service when Texas seceded.”
“Bravo. You did well to wash your hands of the Yankees.” Her eyes lit. “But why didn’t you enlist in the Cause immediately?”
“I’ve been curious about that myself.” LeBeau carved a slice of meat.
Devon studied his plate. He couldn’t afford to have his loyalty questioned. The best lies were often half truths. “It is due to my late wife.” His voice dipped, and he reached for his water. He’d say this once and be done with it.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d been married.” Mrs. LeBeau frowned.
“She passed… It’s been three years.” He swallowed.
Three years and the mention of her death still felt like a punch in the gut.
“On her deathbed, she asked me to give up soldiering.” Not exactly the truth, but how was he to explain that soldiering had become so entwined with his sorrow and guilt, he couldn’t bear it anymore?
“So when secession hit, I followed her wishes. I did my part for Texas through various scouting missions and frontier defense. I even hauled cotton.”
“A man who still loves his wife.” Thea smiled. “How romantic.”
Devon fought to smother his scowl. There was nothing romantic about death and grieving.
This girl was as shallow as a slipper. “But eventually, I determined that a man of any conscience couldn’t stay out of this war forever.
” That part was true. “I figured that if Isabella were still alive, she’d understand. ”
“Oh, I’m sure she would.” Mrs. LeBeau moved her jeweled hand across the lace tablecloth as if she might actually touch him but stopped short.
Devon shifted in his chair. Too much talk of Isabella.
Too many raw emotions. “After Belknap, I decided that if I was going to fight, I was going to do it on my own terms.” Devon picked up his knife.
“I evaded the colonel’s clutches and made my way east. A few months later, I enlisted in the Third Texas Cavalry from Marshall.
” He stabbed his fork in a slice of chicken and prayed they didn’t have friends or family anywhere near Marshall.
“Like too many others, I thought we’d whip the Yankees in a few more months. ”
LeBeau puffed out his chest. “If the generals had done right by our men, we’d have whipped those factory-boy bluecoats in less than a year.” His voice rose. “But with leaders like Pemberton, handing over Vicksburg without a full fight, it’s no wonder we haven’t defeated them yet.”
“You weren’t at Vicksburg, were you, Lieutenant?” Thea batted her eyelashes.
Flickering light from the chandelier cast shadows on the cherry-bramble wallpaper.
“No, Miss LeBeau. But I saw some of those men. Nothing more than scarecrows after the siege.” Or so he’d heard.
“I was wounded in a fight around Jackson, Mississippi, shortly after that.” He tapped a finger to his eyepatch.
Best paint a quick picture for them before they had a chance to ask too many questions.
He had no idea how complete the information was from the deserter-turned-Yankee he’d questioned in Brownsville.
“I got left behind when the Yanks retook the city. Managed to get a parole by the time I was well enough to leave the hospital. Reckon they didn’t want to bother shipping me north.
Probably doubted I’d be fit for service. ”
“You poor man.” Thea opened her fan and fluttered it in front of her face.
Devon’s cheeks heated.
“So you came back home to Texas?” Mrs. LeBeau scooped a spoonful of squash.
“Yes, ma’am. Until I could recover. Had a hankering to see my sister in Brownsville. But the Yankees invaded before I got within fifty miles of the city. Been drifting north since then.”
LeBeau held up his brandy snifter toward a butler who stood at attention by the walnut sideboard. “What about your family? Doesn’t your father have a plantation up north near the Trinity River?”
“Stepfather.” An edge crept into Devon’s voice.
LeBeau’s eyebrows arched.
Devon swiped a napkin over his mouth. “He and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.
I’m in no hurry to visit him. I was hoping you might need a hand, or perhaps you could be a reference for me in Columbus or Alleyton.
I’m looking for a temporary position before I head back across the Mississippi to find my regiment—”
“Papa you need all kinds of help.” Thea leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Owens can’t manage anything right. You said so—”
“Not a topic for the ladies.” LeBeau swished his newly poured brandy in his snifter and gave Thea a stare that managed to shut even her mouth. “We’ll discuss it after dinner, Reynolds. I’m sure something can be arranged.”
Thea beamed in Devon’s direction.
He shifted his gaze back to her father. “Thank you, sir.” His skin itched beneath the eyepatch. Too many more looks from Thea, and he’d feel as if he’d just bathed in a patch of poison ivy. But wars weren’t won by bullets alone. He pressed his hands on the table.
“You must tell us about your plantation.” Thea wrapped an auburn curl around her index finger. “I’d love to hear about your home.”
River Place was no home of his. Devon sat back in the fine cherry straight-back chair. What kind of dinner was Morning Fawn having? Did they bother sending a tray up to her? Surely, they wouldn’t really lock her in the attic and dose her with laudanum. “Will Miss Logan be joining us for dessert?”
Thea snorted.
LeBeau’s fork clunked on the table. “I’m afraid she won’t be down for meals for a few days. Once she gets herself worked up into one of her tirades, it can take a while to settle her down.”
Worked up? Morning Fawn had been calm enough as she’d marched into the house.
Silently fuming, no doubt. Most likely ready to break away at the first opportunity.
But to keep her upstairs for days? Like keeping a cougar in a barn.
“I apologize once again if I did her any injury when I pulled her from her horse.”
“We should be apologizing to you, Lieutenant.” Thea’s thin lips didn’t quite hide the traces of her sneer. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to claw your face. You should have seen her the times she tried to escape when she was first brought here. She’s rather tame now compared to then.”
“Thea.” Mrs. LeBeau fidgeted with her napkin. “You’ll have our guest thinking Beth is uncivilized.”
“Isn’t she?” She gave her mother a pointed look. “I’m only—”
“You ladies forget. Lieutenant Reynolds helped rescue Beth from the Comanches.” LeBeau fingered his watch fob.
“Oh, I bet you could tell us stories, Lieutenant.” Thea squirmed in her chair, probably salivating at the possibility. “What was it like when you first grabbed her? Did you have to use a gun? Did you kill any Comanches?”
Devon cleared his throat. “Miss Thea, I wouldn’t want to disturb your refined nature with such rough discussion.” He almost choked on the word refined. That’d be the day.
“But I must know about my cousin. So that I can be aware of any dangers, or so that I might find ways to comfort her.”
Even her mother had to smother a hiccup over that one.
Devon arched his eyebrows. “Gentleman do not tell tales on ladies. My lips are sealed regarding Miss Logan.”
“Surely, you’re not implying that my cousin is a lady?” She gaped.
He held up his wine glass toward LeBeau. “With an uncle like your father, how could she not be?”
Thea rolled her eyes.
But LeBeau threw back his shoulders. “We still have a substantial bit of polishing to do, but underneath, she’s a LeBeau.
” His brow darkened. “Living with those savages would be enough to derange anyone’s mind.
” His voice contorted with emotion. “I loved my sister dearly, and I will not give up on her daughter.”
Spoken like a Good Samaritan. The man probably felt he was caring well for his slaves, too, when he sent them out to the cotton fields from dawn to dusk likely dressed in raggedy homespun, feeding them on rough corn and bits of pork, separating families, laying the whip on them when they disobeyed.
Shaped in the same mold as Devon’s stepfather.
LeBeau pushed his chair out. “Let’s talk of you, Reynolds. You mentioned you’re looking for a position. I have something in mind, but we’ll discuss it over cigars. We won’t bore the ladies with business. They can join afterwards for dessert in the parlor.”
“Papa, you mustn’t send him off on some far-flung mission. We have so few gentleman callers of class with the war on. We need his protection right here at Sweetbriar.”
Devon gritted his teeth. What if the success of his mission and his access to Morning Fawn hinged on his ability to feign interest in Thea LeBeau?