Kate was positive Elijah could hear her heart hammering in her chest as they walked through the dissipating mist. The day was warming, but she was sure the heat that enveloped her body was entirely a result of Elijah’s presence.
For three days, she had worried about how he fared. She’d loitered near the barn in her off hours, telling herself she was needed in the area but really waiting on the chance that something, anything, would happen with the prisoners.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking of how gently his callused hands had cupped hers, of how his dark gaze had penetrated her as he drank from her ladle. Kate had considered her carnal urges so many cold ashes in the wind, but in that moment some latent ember had flared and flamed high, and now the heat of it would not leave her.
This was madness. There was a war on, and they were on opposite sides of it. It didn’t matter that she’d laid on the hard ground of her tent and imagined his weight on top of her. That his smile was branded in her mind, a constant reminder of everything she couldn’t have.
He was not for her.
She explained the basic setup of the Negro encampment to Elijah as they walked: the tasks that were required of them and the fact that men in the encampment were called troops but neither wore the uniform of the Loyalists nor carried their arms. Not yet at least.
He wasn’t impressed, and she felt rather silly explaining what sounded like just another form of impressment in the face of his skepticism. Still, life in the camp was a foundation for something better than the life America promised them. She knew that.
Perhaps he’ll change his mind yet, she thought. Perhaps you can make him change it.
She brushed the dangerous thoughts away. Elijah Sutton was not her priority. Freedom was. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d do once she reached England or Canada, but the only thing that mattered was getting away from this place that had taken everything from her.
She glanced up at Elijah, although she knew without looking that he was keeping pace beside her. She could sense the strength emanating from him. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some lucky woman who knew the shelter of his muscular arms and the power of his embrace. He looked like he knew how to hold a woman, how to make her forget…
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said abruptly. He had been staring straight ahead, but his gaze darted in her direction now.
Kate stopped and dropped her gaze to the sparse grass shoots struggling up through the well-trodden ground.
“Pardon?” she asked, her face growing even warmer.
“You’re thinking that because Washington retreated, I’ll feel betrayed and easily switch allegiance,” he said, his eyes scanning the hustle and bustle around them. “You can drive such foolishness from your head right now. My constancy isn’t dependent upon one man. There are other factors, and other people, to think of.”
“Oh. Right,” Kate sighed with relief that he hadn’t somehow intuited her libidinous thoughts before realizing that his response was the opposite of what she wanted to hear.
“I’m intrigued,” she said. “What could have such a hold on you here that you will not budge in your foolish loyalty?”
“Have you nothing that binds you to this land?” Elijah asked. Kate felt the delicate shell surrounding her private pain crack just a bit.
“No, I don’t,” she said. The tie that bound her had been lost by her own foolhardiness. Now nothing held her to this land, or this earth, except sheer spite. She realized that Elijah had stopped walking too and was plainly staring at her, his mouth drawn tight. She didn’t like the pity in his eyes.
“You have a woman waiting at home for you to return from battle?” she asked, turning the focus back on him. “Let me guess, she’s sweet as fresh milk and mild as a spring day.”
Elijah snorted, following after her.
“There’s a female waiting alright,” he said, and Kate pretended she wasn’t disappointed. “Name’s Biscuit. She’s about sixteen hands tall, seventy stone, and black as midnight.”
Kate cut her gaze in his direction as he smiled at her, really smiled, the white of his teeth pressing into the dark berry of his plump lower lip. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his mirth heightening their sensuality instead of reducing it. His stubble had grown into a short beard, which suited him even better. He was beautiful, altogether, and Kate hadn’t the slightest idea of how to react. She realized she was simply staring at him when one corner of his mouth dropped and he explained, “Biscuit is a horse, Kate.”
Kate sucked her teeth and flounced ahead, her eyes on the working zone of the encampment ahead of them. “I understood that! I was simply appalled that you’d sell yourself so cheaply.”
She knew she was being rude, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Elijah was stirring feelings in her that she thought had been cauterized by the fire of painful reality. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t care for anyone again, but the slightest attention from Elijah was making her question everything. Snapping at him was the only defense available to her, and it was certainly preferable to stabbing him.
He caught up to her, stepping into her path so that she was forced to look up at him. His mouth was tight again, but there was no pity in his eyes this time.
“I have an agreement with the man I’ve been calling master,” Elijah said.
“The man who left those scars on your back?” she asked. She’d felt sick when she caught sight of the thick, raised flesh on his skin. Not from disgust, but from imagining a man as kind as Elijah whipped like an animal. From knowing that he’d endured that barbaric treatment and was still the type of man who’d stop to help a strange woman. Who’d speak against Bellamy just so his fellow soldiers thought that maybe they were brave enough to do the same.
“No,” he said. “Master Sutton bought me several years back, and has been as kind to me as one can be to a man he owns like chattel,” Elijah said tersely. “When this war arose, we struck up a deal: I’d fight in his stead, and if I returned I’d be given my freedom, some horses, and a parcel of land to conduct my business. That is why nothing you say or do will change my mind. I have a future here, you see, and I’ve earned every bit of it.”
His intensity was entrancing. He wasn’t yelling, and he didn’t grab her as he did at their first meeting, but part of her wished he would. Then she could lash out again. Then he’d be like all the rest.
“And you believe him?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “You believe that the British will pay your board to one of their holdings and settle you into a new life. Well, that sounds like a fantasy to me. My belief in Master Sutton, who I know to be a man of his word, is based solidly in reality, so I could do without you looking at me like I’m addled.”
“You’ll be free, but others will not,” she said, searching for an argument that would ruffle him. Something about Elijah’s steadfast belief in these Colonies made her want to fight him tooth and nail. “That’s alright with you then?”
“Infuriating woman,” he growled, taking a step closer. Even though he wasn’t very much taller than her, that he was looking down at her in that moment was quite apparent. “I said no such thing. When I’m free, I’ll do what I can to free others. I know a group of men who work with that exact purpose in mind, and there are others like them. I wouldn’t be able to effect much change from across the bloody Atlantic, would I? Although I suppose you’ve figured out some way to do it since you have the cheek to question me.”
“I—” Kate had no retort for that. The truth was she had been worried about herself and her own pain for so many years that she had long since stopped caring about the plight of others. About individuals, yes, but freedom for the race as a whole had become an abstract. He’d caught her in a snare of her own words.
Impulsiveness had always been her downfall, and although losing an argument to a man she’d known for three days should hardly have been a world-shaking event, it was.
Have I chosen incorrectly, again? she thought in despair. For the briefest of moments she was back in the rushing river, fighting to keep a grip on the bundle in her arms.
It was only when Elijah’s hand cupped her face and his thumb brushed over her cheek that she realized a shocked tear had fallen.
“It’s all right, Katie,” he said in a low voice that wrapped around her like a cool breeze. The way he murmured Katie…for the first time in memory she felt at ease with the name that had been chosen for her so carelessly, for Elijah spoke the appellation with such care. His hand moved up, sliding over her shorn hair and down her neck in a repetitive motion. “I’m sorry. No need for tears.”
His touch felt wonderful. Too wonderful. It loosened something within her that needed to remain lodged solidly in place, the lodestone of her pain that kept her from crumbling.
She stepped away from him, ashamed at the sense of loss when she could no longer feel the heat of him against her. It was ridiculous: he was not hers, thus there was nothing to lose.
Kate cleared her throat and resumed the tour of the colored encampment. If there was one thing she knew well it was how to pretend that something hadn’t occurred. She’d returned to her plantation all those years ago, sopping wet and arms empty, and acted as if her husband and child had never existed. Avoidance was old tack for her.
Elijah followed her lead, filling the silence with questions about their location and the movement of the British soldiers. He even asked about mundane things, like the washing schedules and when food was delivered; questions she answered dutifully, grateful for the distraction.
“If you have no plans to join the British, why did you agree to this?” she asked as they walked back along a path that cut through a dense section of forest.
“Because I have to report back to those men waiting in the Captain’s tent. I don’t presume to make their choice for them, even if I think they choose wrong.”
Kate simply nodded. Hopefully, the men would be surer in their choice than she was. The Captain had dispatched her with the duty of recruiting Elijah Sutton, but the man had shaken her resolve. Worse, he had revealed her flaw to her and hadn’t judged her for it. He’d treated her with kindness instead, and now she was lost.
“Are you willing to go to the prison ships for your patriotism? That’s a veritable death sentence, although a noose would be kinder,” she said. It was one last effort to change his mind and a reminder to herself where his decision would take him. If he didn’t take Bellamy up on his offer, it wouldn’t matter how he made her feel. Elijah would likely be a dead man.
She was asking a serious question, but he turned that glorious smile on her once more.
“If the lobsterbacks can get me onto that stinking ship, I’ll gladly die for my country,” he said. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one to concede a point very easily, and death is a very final point.”
She laughed, but then he took a step closer and her laughter died in her throat.
“But in case I’m not long for this world…”
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to escape. She did not run.
If the touch of his hand had moved her, the soft sweet press of his mouth shook her to her core. His lips were warm against hers, rubbing gently in a way that was both subdued and overwhelming. Kate had been kissed, for reasons ranging from passion to possession, but never as softly as this. Elijah’s hands rested chastely on her arms, but the encircling warmth of them was a reminder of his strength—the strength he wasn’t using against her. She could feel his ardor in the deepening of their kiss and the way his feet moved restlessly in the grass, but his hold on her was completely gentle.
“Elijah,” she whispered because she was so full of emotion she had to say something and his name was her only release.
His barely suppressed groan vibrated against her lips, the sensation a precursor to the warmth of his tongue as he licked into her mouth. She mimicked his actions but pressed harder, seeking more from him; he chose to be gentle, but she had agreed to no such thing. Their kiss went from chaste to chaotic in an instant. Her hands flew up to his chest, grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer. She nipped at his lower lip and then her tongue was dueling with his, trying to defeat him in this one battle where she might have some advantage.
A sudden thrashing in the woods scared them apart, where they stood panting and staring at each other with heated gazes. A plump hare shot out from the underbrush, pausing between them with a quizzical look before darting away. Kate didn’t know who started laughing first, but soon both she and Elijah were caught in a fit of hysterics.
This is what happiness feels like, she thought as tears, the good kind, welled in her eyes and her sides ached from mirth. I’d forgotten.
“We should get back, Kate,” Elijah said finally. “Thank you.”
“Yes, we shouldn’t tarry,” she said, adjusting her frock. She ignored his gratitude, which was too similar to a goodbye for her liking.
As they drew closer to the camp, there was a furor ahead of them, the yells of soldiers and the banshee screams of something that sounded inhuman. As Elijah barreled past her, she realized it was a horse.
They emerged from the trail into a scene of madness. The biggest horse she had ever seen leapt wildly near the Captain’s tent. It kicked and bucked, its eyes rolling madly as if it knew not why it behaved so. Soldiers with whips lashed at it, which seemed to spur the horse’s fit even more.
“Stop!” Elijah shouted. His booming voice raised the hairs on her neck but was drowned out in the fracas. The group of women who had served breakfast with Kate scattered as the horse charged them—all but Lettie, who stood frozen with fear. The horse reared up, blocking the woman from her view. There was a sickening crack.
“Stop,” Elijah said, grabbing at a soldier’s arm as he pulled back to release another whip crack. “You’re crowding the creature, everyone back away now!”
He approached the frenzied animal, his hands held out before him. Kate recognized the motion: it was the same way he had first approached her.
“It’s okay, girl,” he said in a soothing voice. “Calm down now, everything will be all right.”
The horse backed away from him, eyes still rolling, and it was only then that Kate saw what appeared to be a bundle of rags that had been caught beneath its hooves.
“Lettie,” she choked out. She wanted to run to the woman, but Elijah held a staying hand, as if he knew her intentions without even looking at her. He was gazing into the horse’s eyes, making comforting noises as he approached. The animal reacted to his calm, stopping in its tracks and staring at him. Its great body was lathered with sweat, and its chest heaved like a bellows, but it didn’t move as Elijah stepped up to it and placed a hand on its head.
The horse stamped its hooves and shook its head free and for a horrifying moment Kate thought it would go wild again. Instead, Elijah spoke in a low, soothing voice and placed his hand on the animal’s head once more. Slowly, he moved his free hand down to the loose reins, pulling a little. The horse calmly took a step in the direction he pulled, and then whinnied, pressing its face against his shoulder as if seeking comfort.
Whispers of amazement buzzed through the gathered soldiers.
“Come to her now, Kate,” Elijah said, and Kate hurried toward Lettie. She already knew from the strange angle of Lettie’s neck and the way she lay crumpled that it was too late, but she knelt beside her nonetheless.
“She’s done for,” one of the soldiers said. “Should we throw her in the pit with the dead prisoners?”
Anger welled up in Kate.
“This woman cooked for you, cleaned your uniforms and your filthy knickers, and that’s the respect you show her? A child is motherless now!”
A few of the soldiers looked genuinely upset, but most were excitedly discussing Elijah’s handling of Bellamy’s horse. Lettie was beneath their concern.
Kate's eyes locked with Elijah’s as he stroked the horse’s white mane. Another body lay between them; it seemed that death intended to be a bosom companion to them. Part of her wondered if this was the cost of a kiss, the cost of experiencing lust and happiness again after all these years. She’d known that there would be a price to pay for her joy—there always was—but she hadn’t expected it to come this soon.
“Mama?” a high-pitched voice called out, and she turned just in time to catch Charlotte in her arms again. This time, Lettie would not be arriving to take the girl away from her.
“Don’t look, little one,” Kate said as she pressed the girl’s head into her neck so she couldn’t see the trampled remains. “Your mama has gone away. I’m sorry.”
“Can I go with her?” Charlotte asked. She was starting to cry, although she was too young to understand exactly what had passed.
“No,” Kate said. Although every part of her fought against it, she knew what she must do. She had vowed never to take on this task again, and it made her ill to even think of it.
“I want to go with Mama,” Charlotte hiccupped.
“No, you have to stay here with me,” Kate said, feeling as if she were falling into an endless void as she spoke the words. “I’ll take care of you now.”