Chapter 23 #2
He scuffed his boot. Morning Fawn was the most exasperating woman who had ever lived. And if he didn’t speak up, he was going to lose her. “It’s Isabelle.”
She half slid back down the hill and jabbed her hands to her hips. “What?”
He marched over and snatched the hat off her head.
She wouldn’t run off without it, not dressed in trousers.
A bitter taste rose up in the back of his throat.
Was he really going to start this conversation now?
“Isabelle is the reason I didn’t write.” He could almost hear the suture rip in his heart.
She blinked at him. “Because you still love her?” Her voice wobbled.
He swallowed. “I will always love her.”
She inhaled sharply. New moisture pooled in her eyes.
His arms twitched toward her, but he held them steady.
“However, I’ve recently discovered my heart is bigger than I realized.
It has a chamber for Isabelle. But…” What in the world was he doing?
He reached for Morning Fawn’s hand and lifted her fingers to his left breast. “It also has a huge chamber for someone else, a girl who has more courage, strength, determination, and spunk than anyone I’ve ever known. ”
She sniffled. Her fingers pressed against his shell jacket as if a magnet drew them toward the flesh beneath. “If you mean that, why didn’t you write? Why do you make yourself scarce?” Her bottom lip trembled.
A red-winged blackbird landed on a nearby tree branch and trilled.
Devon ripped another suture. “I failed Isabelle. I don’t want to end up hurting you too.”
“I’m sure you never meant to hurt her.”
He dropped her hand and stepped away. Sweat broke out beneath his hairline. His stomach churned. “A body can do a bushel of harm without ever meaning to.”
“Tell me.” She touched his side.
Tell this girl the darkest moment of his life? They didn’t have time for this here. One of the men from the docks might have seen them head into the woods. Might eventually come to investigate.
He turned to her. “Meet me tomorrow. In the center of the garden by the sundial at sunrise. If one of us can’t make it, we’ll meet at midnight, same place. I’ll tell you then.”
Her expression clouded. He could see her thoughts. Another put-off, another promise he wouldn’t keep.
He had to give her something. Heart pounding, he took her in his arms. Not the right thing to do. His head spun. The feel of her robbed him of his breath. He pressed his mouth to her ear, fighting for clarity. “I’m a Yankee spy.”
She shuddered and leaned back to meet his gaze. Silence for a full moment. She paled and mouthed, “A Yankee?”
“Hanging offense in these parts.” The nodes in his throat hardened, barely letting the words past. Saying it made it more real.
She latched on to the front of his jacket. “LeBeau would string you up if he knew. So would Nicholas.”
He nodded.
“Were you a spy when you kidnapped me?”
“No.” A dry laugh rattled through him. “I planned to use the three hundred dollar reward to pay for a substitute and stay out of the war. Just like I told you before.”
“But you didn’t.”
“After I delivered you to your uncle’s men, I traveled to Louisiana, joined Grant’s army, then transferred to the First U.S. Texas Cavalry, Texans fighting to redeem the state from the Rebs.”
“I know you hate slavery. But I had no idea you were…You told me you enlisted in the Confederate cavalry to protect Texas.”
“I meant what I said. Only, I figured the best way to help Texas was to fight to free her from the Reb stranglehold.” His gaze dropped into gold-speckled irises. “I’m trusting you with my life.”
“I’d never do anything to harm you.” Her voice little more than a breath.
A splash resonated from the water beyond the trees.
Devon tensed and touched a finger to his lips. They held still as a deer bounded through the brush and up the hill. Only a deer…but something had spooked it. “We should go.”
Her eyes widened. “I have something else to tell you. Nicholas suspects something.”
“What?”
“Saturday before last, he talked about having you investigated.”
He shifted her to elbow distance. “What did he say? Tell me exactly.”
“He doesn’t suspect the Yankee part, just that maybe you’re a deserter or slacker. He talked about having one of his agents look into it.”
Devon scrubbed his hand over his face. “If he sends inquiries to my stepfather or any of his associates, he’ll learn soon enough where my sympathies lie.”
“But they don’t know you joined the Yankees?”
“No, but once Moyer learns I’m a Unionist, he’ll dig further.” He needed to throw the man off the trail and move up the timetable for the mission.
“What are you going to do?”
He released her. “I’ll figure something out.
I have a backup cover—that I’m here from the Confederate government investigating the quartermaster.
” He exhaled. “I’ll give it more thought.
But right now, you need to get back to your horse, change, and ride home.
” Her horse? She’d probably ridden that blasted mustang.
He prayed to God he wasn’t a fool for trusting her.
“I want to help. I can spy. You see that I can.” Morning Fawn waved her hand over her clothes. “Should I make up something to say to Nicholas?”
“Absolutely not. I want you to get home and act like nothing has changed. If they notice you were missing, tell them you went for a long ride. If they lock you in the attic, I’ll work to get you out.”
She folded her arms. “I’ll do that for now, but I’m a better spy than Frieda.”
Men’s voices sounded in the distance. A disagreement at the loading docks or something else?
He jabbed a finger toward the hill. “I don’t have time to argue with you. We’ll discuss it later. Go. We’ll talk tomorrow morning, sunrise. And remember what I told you.”
She nodded and scurried up, pawing dirt as she climbed. Her poor stockinged feet.
He’d better speed up this mission while he had any brains left.
There’d be no way to keep Morning Fawn uninvolved now that she knew.
It’d be like shooting off the starting pistol at a race and telling a Thoroughbred not to gallop.
Although the Schramms were not going to understand, and neither would Captain Carson, he had to figure out a way for Morning Fawn to help and keep her and everyone else safe all at the same time.