Chapter 39 #2
“Then you aren’t his wife. And you’re not going to be.”
Moyer’s Adam’s apple moved beneath Devon’s palm. “I saved you. She’s ruined. She’s mine—”
“I didn’t give my word.” Devon jabbed the barrel against Moyer’s skull. He coughed back saliva. The way Morning Fawn withdrew her touch. Her pale, worn face and underscored eyes… He caught it all in a glimpse. Her pain, her shame. “You deserve to die.”
“Devon.” Morning Fawn latched onto his sleeve. “If you kill him, you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”
Bloodshot eyes, one already half-swollen shut, glared into his. “I saved you.” Moyer’s voice bordered on a plea.
God forgive me, I want to pull the trigger.
“Please,” Morning Fawn whispered. “Please, for your own sake.”
A cool breeze swept through the furnace of his fury.
His heart shifted. He wouldn’t mar his future with Morning Fawn by adding blood to his hands.
“I’ll tell you what, Nick Moyer. You rescued me from an execution.
For your own selfish reasons.” Devon’s wounded arm throbbed.
The vein in his hand on Moyer’s throat bulged.
“I’ll repay you. I’ll give you your life.
Morning Fawn’s word, the deal you had with her, is done.
It’s my life for your life. That’s the trade.
You saved me. I’ll save you. I won’t pull this trigger.
And I’ll let you get up and drag your miserable hide into these woods here.
I won’t tell the Federal troops on the beach who you are.
I’m sure they’d love to throw you in the hold of their ship and leave you there until you rot.
You want to live? You want to walk again?
Your arrangement with Morning Fawn is done. You get that?”
Voices trailed near.
Sweat beaded on Moyer’s forehead. He gritted his teeth and shuddered, then at last gave a nod.
Hammer cocked, finger on the trigger, Devon eased his hand from the scum’s neck and backed off slowly, drawing Morning Fawn with him.
Moyer rubbed his throat and scooted out of reach.
Devin jutted the gun barrel at him. “Get out of here before they notice you.”
Collar and waistcoat wrecked, a gaping hole beneath his coat arm, and his whole face beginning to swell, Moyer gained his feet. Twigs, grass leavings, and sand clung to his clothing. “You’ll regret this.”
Devon moved between Morning Fawn and Moyer. “If I ever see your sorry behind again, I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Morning Fawn shuddered.
Nick cast a last look at her. “Your loss.” He tugged on the money belt at his waist and disappeared into the trees.
Numb, she stared after him. At least he had what really mattered to him. It was over. The battle. The shipwreck. The days of suffocating in Nick’s presence with no future she wanted. Over. Waves of shivers overtook her. The world spun. She misstepped—right into Devon’s arms.
He scooped an arm beneath her knees and fastened another around her back.
Voices, soldiers talking to him, he answered, and then he was carrying her away from them all.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck.
Breathing in, breathing out, trying to settle her stomach and steady her head.
The same stomach that had led her to throw up in the captain’s quarters as he’d opened the Bible to start the ceremony.
She’d begged off for one more day. God in His mercy had spared her from the “I do” that would have fettered her for life.
She inhaled the sea and sweat, mixed with a tinge of blood. Devon. Safe. Here. His muscles flexing and straining beneath his dark wool jacket, his pulse throbbing against her forehead. He’d come for her. A thousand sunrises burst within her. Dear God, don’t let this be a dream.
A sob worked its way up her throat.
“You’re safe now.” His voice wrapped around her as he dropped to a knee by a rock and lowered her down. “Safe.”
She latched on to him, arms around his neck, and threaded her fingers through his thick brown hair. “Thank God you’re alive. I was afraid I’d never see you again. Never…” Another sob.
He settled onto the sand and pulled her securely onto his lap, into his hold.
“I’m here. Thanks to you, my beautiful girl,” he whispered against her hair as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I love you so much. I was afraid I’d lost you.
” He pressed her to his chest. His voice cracked.
He swallowed hard once and then again. “I love you so much, my precious Taa Aruka.”
Loved. Thankful he hadn’t lost her. But shame clogged her throat.
Thank God, her virtue was intact, but Nick had compromised her reputation from Columbus to Galveston and beyond.
Her fingers slipped from Devon’s hair. She pulled back, half out of the circle of his arms. “But you don’t know how things were. He kept me—”
“It doesn’t matter what happened or what that scum did.” Devon’s voice rang with the certainty of iron forged in a furnace. “I love you. And you are my girl.”
Her heart trembled. “I’ve got to say it. He forced me to share a hotel room with him, and quarters on the ship, at times even his bed...” Her stomach clenched. Her hands fell into her lap. The memory of the stares seared the scarlet into her soul.
Lake-blue eyes pierced her to the depths of her being. “Whatever he did, it wasn’t of your choice. There is nothing in this world Nick Moyer could do to stop me from loving you.”
She bit back a sob and touched her fingers to his parched lips.
“He did everything he could to ruin my reputation. But he didn’t touch me in the way of a husband and a wife.
Everyone up and down the coast thinks I’m his mistress.
But he kept his word about waiting until the wedding night.
I delayed. It was never going to happen—”
“I thank God for that.” A smile tugged at his lips.
“Everyone will look at me—”
“You and I know the truth, and so does the Lord. That’s what matters, my dear, precious girl.” He cradled her cheek.
The tenderness of his touch, the love in his eyes…a healing salve to her heart.
He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her parted lips, his kiss there like the fluttering of butterfly wings. She slipped her arms back around his neck, settled in his embrace, and met the butterfly wing for wing until a fire better suited for a wedding night stirred within her.
Trembling, he withdrew his lips and tucked her head beneath his chin, his chest rising and falling hard against hers. “I do have one very important question for my girl.”
Farther down the beach, soldiers moved, loading rowboats with what they’d salvaged. Smoke still streamed from what had been the Eliza Jane. A seagull strutted on a rock nearby.
“What kind of question?” She stroked Devon’s bearded jaw.
“When should we get married?”
She half laughed.
He tipped her chin up to his. “I’m serious.
But I’m a reasonable man. I’ll give you until we dock to think about it, and that might be a while.
I imagine we’ll go with the Federal steamer if the captain will have us.
I need to get clear of Texas, or at least to Brownsville, and the oyster boat captain didn’t sign up for a jaunt like that. ”
She touched the bruise beneath his eye, and another at his temple, and frowned at the warm, wet spot on his jacket sleeve. His blood. She swallowed. “It looks like you need a doctor right now, not a wife.”
He settled her deeper into his lap. “A wife would suit me just fine. Nothing a little loving care and time can’t remedy.”
“Well, you’d better get one thing straight, Mr. Trouble.
” She ran her finger along his jawline and down to his collarbone, her heart throwing the curtains of hope open and basking in the sun.
“I’m not going to be the type of wife who sits around the plantation waiting for her soldier boy to come home.
Where you go, I go, except for the battlefields.
If you’re at an outpost or a camp, or in some big, smothering city, it doesn’t matter. I’m with you.”
“The colonel or my captain might have something to say about that.” His eyes twinkled.
“I’d be happy to try to set both of them straight.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled. “It’s a good thing you don’t plan to sit around the plantation because I don’t have one.”
“I’m not marrying you for your acres.”
“So it’s a yes, then? You are marrying me?”
“Just as soon as it’s decently possible.”
He kissed her once more, then held her close and nuzzled his cheek to her hair. “After this war, I’ll work hard and get us some land. A ranch, unless you decide you want to become a city girl.”
“No city for me.” She smoothed her palm over his chest.
“It won’t matter what these folks in this little corner of Texas think of us. We’ll have the horizon to ourselves.”
“Being here in your arms, planning our future, it’s more than I dared hope for.”
“I’ve heard that God has a way of doing that sometimes, especially when you least expect it.”
“God had been so good,” she whispered. “I couldn’t do it on my own. I couldn’t get away from Nick. I couldn’t break my word. I couldn’t fix anything. There was no way to make everything right.”
He drew her deeper into the circle of his arms. “I was in a hole so deep, there was nothing left for me but a firing squad or the gallows. But even before that, before I met you, I was in a different type of hole. But God made a way where there was no way. And somehow, He even used Moyer to do it, and the most courageous and determined woman I’ve ever met…
she was willing to sacrifice herself for me.
I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. ”
The man with the brown beard tromped up to them, the same one who’d called on her uncle a few days after the explosion. “Are you two going to sit here all day, or are you going to catch a ride?”
Devon slipped her off his lap and jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him. “We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
THE END