Authors: Loves Wine
She told him all of it, aware all the while that he was gazing at her with more than friendly concern.
“I’ll be damned,” Neil said when she’d finished.
The sergeant had been quiet long enough. “Sir, a man has been shot, and this woman should be charged with the shooting. Shall I lock her up now?”
“I accept full responsibility for her,” Neil said firmly. “Miss Maxwell is not going into the stockade.”
The two men locked eyes. Just then hard footsteps echoed in the hallway and in a moment the outer door opened. Holly found herself looking into the dark eyes of Colonel Scott Colter.
He strode briskly into the room, his presence quietly but overwhelmingly commanding. Looking right at Holly, he said, “It seems the trouble I anticipated has begun.” His gaze was warm. “And it seems you are right in the middle of it, Miss Maxwell—which I
also
anticipated.”
Chapter Eight
Scott took Holly into his private office. He didn’t have to tell Sergeant Pearson or Captain Davis that he would take the situation from there. They knew it and stepped aside, aware, as always, that Colter preferred to conduct his own investigations without being bored by others’ opinions.
He sat down behind a large desk and motioned to Holly to take one of the two remaining chairs. His gaze flicked over her, the warmth gone now. “Let’s hear it, Holly,” he said brusquely. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. She told him everything, and Scott scrawled notes as she talked.
The whole time she talked, her stomach fluttered and her voice went from low to high and then back to low. Why, she accused herself furiously, couldn’t she manage a little control? Scott Colter was just another man. Well…perhaps not. She looked away from him. Would he always have this effect on her? Did he know how she felt? Did she look as overwrought as she was feeling? She guessed she probably did. When she fell silent, he glanced up sharply. “Is that all of it?” She nodded. He stood. “Wait.”
He left her. After a few moments, she got up and began to pace. The room was sparsely furnished. There was a desk and there were two chairs. A black-draped portrait of President Lincoln was on one wall, a portrait of General Grant on the opposite wall.
Walking to the curtainless window, she peered out into the inner compound and saw soldiers drilling. They looked as bored as she felt.
She took her seat once more. She should have been fishing, repairing nets, anything but sitting there wasting her time over something that wasn’t her fault.
A sound at the door caused her to jump. She frowned, disappointed, to see it wasn’t Scott, but Roger Bonham.
He knelt down in front of her, concern etched on his face. “It’s all over town. Your mother is so upset. My father wanted to come, but I told him that you and I were friends, so I’d come and see what I could do to help you out of this mess.”
She made a careless gesture and looked out the window. “Everything will be fine. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just protecting myself and my property. I hated to shoot anyone, but I had no choice.”
He reached for her fingertips and held them tightly, through she tried to pull away. “Please, Holly. Tell me what happened.”
She didn’t want him there, but there he was. It was rude to keep staring out the window, so she steeled herself and faced him, noting his impeccable light blue cravat, his white shirt and dark blue coat. His boots would, she knew, be polished to a fine sheen and his trousers would have a knife crease. Why did all of this irritate her? Was it only because she looked like a ragpicker or was it something beyond that?
He was talking so earnestly. She made herself be attentive. Why make another enemy?
With a weary sigh, she told her story for the third time. He listened quietly, then declared, “It won’t happen again. By God, I won’t stand for this. You’ve a right to live where you want to live.”
She laughed wearily. “That’s what
I
thought. But this isn’t
my
land here any more. It’s being taken over by outsiders, vultures!” she flared.
“Holly, no, my dear. You’re mistaken.” He moved back to sit in the chair next to her. “We Northerners who’ve come South are, for the most part, aspiring men who’ve moved here in an attempt to make new lives—”
“Picking the carcasses of the beaten South,” she cut him off abruptly.
“Not all of us,” he said gently. “I agree there are a few troublemakers, but some have been sent as missionaries to minister to the needs of former slaves. Some of them, true, resent Southerners, like you, who stand in their way. They’re trying to unite our country in peace, Holly.” He went on before she could stop him. “It’s quite unusual for a young woman to take over land, in her name. And to be so rudely independent. Your attitude has angered many people. You must understand that.”
She stiffened. “I do not have to trade with Yankees, if you happen to be referring to the incident in the market yesterday.”
He gave her a sad smile. Do you expect that kind of attitude to be warmly received?”
She jerked her hands from his. “You speak of peace. I find that hypocritical. You Yankees are the ones who came down here to tell us how to live. You caused the trouble in the first place.”
Roger shook his head. “Do you condone slavery?”
“I never went along with that. My father was good to our servants. They weren’t mistreated. And it’s none of your business anyway.”
Roger touched her shoulder gently. “Holly, historians will probably spend the next century studying the reasons for the war, but I’m concerned only with your welfare.”
She turned her face away. “I only want to be left alone. Is that asking too much?”
“The way you handled the situation last night isn’t going to solve anything,” Roger said.
Holly clenched her fists together. “No one is going to come on my land and threaten me, Roger, and the next time it happens, someone is going to get killed.”
He smiled gently. “Then we’ll just have to make certain there isn’t a next time.” He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his reassuring gaze. “I’m not only going to offer you a tidy sum for your land, my dear, I’m going to give you back your original investment! You can move into Vicksburg and be with your mother, and I promise you’ll be the belle of every social function. I intend to make a pest of myself, vying for your company.”
He slipped his hand inside his expensive coat, then smoothly placed her grandmother’s brooch in her lap. “Where did you get this?” she gasped, looking from the brooch to him and back again.
He smiled, enjoying the moment, and told her about buying it back from the jeweler. “I know it meant a great deal to you. Accept it, please, as a gesture of friendship.”
“But…” she sputtered, staring at the brooch, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t accept it. I’d be in your debt, and I could never repay you.”
“No, my dear, you don’t owe me anything. Consider it evidence of my goodwill and friendship. I’ll be insulted if you don’t accept it. It would hurt me, Holly.”
She stared at him. If it weren’t for those cold eyes, he would be attractive. Oh, what difference did that make? What was she thinking of? “You want that land, don’t you?” she asked simply. “Or you’d never have gone to the trouble to find out where I got the money to pay the taxes.”
He glanced away, with a hangdog look on his face as he shook his head and said in a confidential tone, “Not me, Holly. My father. I won’t be held accountable for him. My interest is in lumber and building. I really don’t need your land, but Father fancies himself a land baron. He wants the site of Magnolia Hall so he can build a mansion for himself, and he wants to own all the connecting property, particularly the river frontage. Something about developing a port there for riverboats. When I heard what lengths you went to in order to keep your land, I bought the brooch back.”
She blinked, confused. “You mean you don’t agree with your father?”
He shook his head. “No, Holly. If you want the land, then you should have it. It’s yours by right. Believe me, my only concern is for your well-being. If you won’t let me take that piece of land off your hands so you can move to Vicksburg where you’ll be safe, then I have no choice but to accept your decision. But at least take the brooch. Don’t insult my good intentions, please.”
There was no time to wonder at all this, for at that moment, Scott Colter entered. After glancing from Holly to Roger Bonham, seeing the brooch in her lap, Scott took his seat. He nodded curtly to Roger. “Mrs. Maxwell seemed quite upset when I talked with her a short while ago. She said you were disturbed, too.” There was a hint of mockery in his voice and Roger did not mistake the tone.
“It was nice of you to go by there, Colonel. I’m afraid the gossips wasted little time in letting her know that her daughter had shot a man. How is he, by the way?”
Scott looked at Holly as he said, “He isn’t hurt badly. Did you mean to kill him?”
Holly grinned. “If I had, he’d be dead.”
“He sticks to his story. He says you meant to kill him,” Scott said quietly.
Holly shook her head. “I could see him clearly. I aimed off his shoulder, so it would be a flesh wound. And that’s what it was. If he cares to pay me another visit, I’ll be glad to make a truthful man out of him, instead of a liar,” she added. Scott sighed at her unrepentant attitude. “Look, Colonel Colter. I don’t care what Wellman says. I told you the truth. Now may I leave? I’ve other things to be doing besides sitting here being treated like a criminal.”
Scott went on as though she had not spoken. “It’s easy for people to believe his story because you’re getting a reputation as a hotheaded, rebellious wildcat.”
“And I imagine he has a reputation as a no-good, lying son of a bitch,” she said smoothly.
Scott raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should have used stronger soap.”
Roger looked from her face to the colonel’s in confusion. “Is there some part of this I don’t know about?” he snapped.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Scott said lazily. “Wait outside, please. I’ll speak to Holly alone now.”
Roger did not like being dismissed. “What do you want me to do, my dear?” he asked. “I’ll stay if you like.”
“I’ll be leaving soon, too, Roger. This isn’t getting anywhere.” She stood up.
“You will sit down,” Scott said so fiercely that she nearly fell back into her chair. “You will leave when I say you can go. Not before.” He shot a look at Roger. “You have been dismissed, Bonham.”
Roger stood. “I’ll wait outside, Holly. Then I’ll take you to your mother.” He went out, shooting an angry look at Scott before slamming the door behind him.
When they were alone, Scott informed her he had been to the bank to talk to Mr. Locklear. “He doesn’t know anything about any money being held for you.”
She stared at him. “So? Does that prove anything except that the Night Hawks told him there’d been trouble and to forget the deal? Now he’s scared to admit the truth.”
He nodded imperceptibly.
“Does that mean you believe me?” she asked, exasperated.
“I do. I’ve told Wellman to get out of town and tell his friends to do the same. I won’t tolerate vigilantes in my territory.”
“Then I won’t have to worry about them again! Thank God!”
Candidly, he informed her, “They aren’t going to turn tail and run just because they’ve been warned. They’ll hang around as long as they’re getting paid.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?
You’re
being paid, I believe, to keep peace in this area.”
Suddenly, his expression changed. “Let me worry about that. You just watch yourself. I won’t tolerate vigilantes, but neither will I put up with citizens taking the law into their own hands. That includes you.” He got up and escorted her to the door. “I’ll have some patrols around your property from time to time. You’d be wise to watch who you’re shooting at. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to tend to.” He got to his feet and went to the door.
Holly was baffled by his coolness. She was being abruptly dismissed. She walked to the door slowly, then turned to face him. Standing there, so close, the passionate memories rushed back to her. He touched his tongue to the sensuous fullness of his lower lip, as though tasting a kiss and she felt a tremor move through her. The spark of awareness crackled silently between them.
“The dress you were wearing the other night was lovely,” he said lightly. “At the party I realized you’re a real beauty when you want to be.”
Holly felt wholly vulnerable. Mustering confidence, she gave Scott a mock curtsy and smiled. “I thank you, kind sir, and it seems
you
can be a real gentleman…when
you
want to be.”
He reached out and touched her face gently with his fingertips, trailing downward till he was cupping her chin. For an instant, Holly stood frozen, then she shook free and quickly jerked open the door.
She bumped right into Roger, who gripped her arms to steady her. “Are you all right? You look…upset.” He gave Scott an accusing glare. Scott smoothly closed the door on them.
Holly shook her head. “I’m fine, Roger. I just want to get out of here.” He guided her to the outer door.
“They took your horse to the post stables, because they didn’t know whether or not you would be detained. I have my carriage outside. I’ll take you to your mother’s.”