Ashes in the Wind Read online

  Al coughed loudly and half turned to the Yankee. “This here’s my cousin, Roberta. Roberta Craighugh.”

  Cole had already taken in the black hair and dark eyes, the summer gown of flowered peach muslin cut daringly low across a full bosom, and responded in the gallant fashion of a gentleman, clicking his heels as he bowed. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Craighugh.”

  Roberta’s mother was French, and that amorous blood now rose under the manly perusal of this handsome Yankee officer. The war had curtailed many of the pleasures in her life, and she was approaching the spinsterish age of twenty-two. She had become convinced that without male companionship a girl could waste away to nothing. It seemed like ages had passed since she last received a gentleman caller, and she was hopelessly bored with her existence. But her spirits steadily revived as her prospects of making another conquest loomed brighter. What made it more intriguing was that he was in the ranks of the forbidden harvest, the hated Yankees.

  “I can’t say I’ve entertained too many Northern soldiers, Captain,” she stated brightly. “I’ve heard so many disturbin’ stories about y’all. Still”—she nibbled pensively at her fingertip— “y’all don’t look like the sort of man who would go about the countryside frightening poor, defenseless women.”

  White teeth gleamed in a reckless smile as Cole responded. “I try hard not to, ma’m.”

  Roberta blushed with excitement, and her thoughts ran rampant. He seemed far more manly and self-assured than those silly boys who had feverishly plied her with proposals before marching off to war for the Confederacy. She had found no challenge in winning their hearts, but this Yankee might prove better sport.

  As if suddenly reminded of her cousin, Roberta faced him. “Al, why don’t you run along in. Dulcie will be glad to see you, I’m sure.”

  Dismissed but reluctant to go, Al glanced worriedly from his cousin to the Yankee. Al had seen that certain look come into Roberta’s eyes before on prior visits and he knew it boded ill for himself, if not for the captain. To have the enemy pay court to Roberta was like looking down the wrong end of a rifle. He’d just as soon not be on the dangerous end when it went off.

  Wiping a grubby hand on his dingy trousers, Al extended it toward the man. “Thank ya kindly for the ride, Cap’n. I ‘spect you can find your own way back jes’ fine.” Al nodded toward the sun shining through the trees. “Looks a bit like rain, though. Guess you’d best be gettin’ back befo’—”

  “Nonsense, Al,” interrupted Roberta. “The least we can do is repay this nice gentleman for his kindness. I’m sure he would enjoy some refreshments after that long, hot ride.” She smiled warmly at Cole. “Won’t y’all come inside where it’s cooler, Captain?” Ignoring her cousin’s distress, she opened the door wider and beckoned sweetly, “This way, Captain.”

  Al stared after the two as they entered the house, his teeth clenched in rage, his gray eyes flaring. He hefted the heavy case and wrestled it through the door, but in the process banged his elbow and mumbled several words the captain would not have approved of had he heard. Fortunately, that one’s attention was well occupied as Roberta led him into the sparsely furnished parlor.

  “You must forgive the appearance of this room, Captain. Before the war it was much more grand.” Demurely she spread her wide, hooped skirts before Cole’s chair and perched with ladylike poise on the edge of the faded silk settee. “Why, my father has been left with only a little bitty store to make ends meet after we had so much. And who can afford to pay such exorbitant prices as he must charge. Imagine paying a whole dollar for a bar of soap, and I grew so fond of Parisian scents. I can’t bear to even look at those rough ol’ cakes Dulcie makes.”

  “War seems to get the best of everybody, ma’m,” Cole commented with irony.

  “The war wasn’t so hard to bear until that dreadful General Butler descended upon us. Excuse me for being blunt, Captain, but I hated that man.”

  “Most Southerners did, Miss Craighugh.”

  “Yes, but few had to endure what we were put through. My father’s warehouses were seized by that beastly man. Why, he even had our furniture and valuables confiscated just because Daddy wouldn’t sign that miserable ol’ loyalty oath. They were even going to take away this very house, if you can imagine but Daddy gave in—just to keep me and Mama safe. Then, there was that awful affront to all of us when Butler issued orders that the womenfolk of the city should be treated less politely by his men. I just can’t imagine a gentleman like yourself, sir, following such a command.”

  Cole knew General Order Twenty-Eight by heart, for it had caused a great furor among the civilians. Butler had issued it to protect his men from the insults of the women of New Orleans, but his actions had backfired and eventually won more sympathy for the South. “And I, Miss Craighugh, cannot envision you deserving such treatment.”

  “I must confess that I was afraid to set foot outside this house for fear of being accosted. I was most relieved when the Union Army decided to replace General Butler, and now they have that other nice general in command. I’ve heard that Banks gives the most lavish balls and is far more cordial. Have you ever been to any of those affairs, Captain?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve been too busy at the hospital, Miss Craighugh. It’s a rare day I have to myself, but I’ve been most fortunate today. After the general’s inspection of the hospital this morning, I was able to take the afternoon off. I shall hereafter consider it as my good fortune.”

  Al stood through Roberta’s chatter and the captain’s replies, attempting to catch her eye while at the same time trying to stay out of the man’s range of vision. But the lad realized his cousin was totally engrossed with entertaining the Union officer and refused to be interrupted. Forcing the woman to remember her manners, Al dropped the valise on the marble floor with a disrupting clatter.

  Roberta started. “Oh, Al! You must be starving, child, and supper won’t be for ages yet. Go tell Dulcie to find you something to tide you over.” She smiled brightly at Cole. “Gracious, it’s been so long since we’ve entertained, I’ve nearly forgotten my upbringin’. Captain Latimer, won’t you stay and join us for dinner? Dulcie is just about the best cook in New Orleans.”

  Al rolled his eyes in total incredulity. How could Roberta do such a thing?

  Surprised by the invitation, Cole was slow to reply. Usually it was only the women of the back streets who would lower themselves to consort with the enemy, and even they were not always the most congenial. Though it had meant long months of celibacy, he had not been inclined to indulge himself with some pretty, knife-wielding Confederate sympathizer. Nor, for that matter, had he been tempted to crawl into bed with those proven safe by countless numbers in the Union ranks. He was not uneager to be in the company of such a beauteous lady, but there were things to be considered. Her father, for instance. He would just as soon refrain from getting himself into a forced marriage.

  “I just won’t hear of you rejecting my invitation, Captain,” Roberta pouted winsomely, confident that he would accept. After all, she had never been refused before. “I suspect that you’ve been shown very little hospitality here in New Orleans.”

  “One can hardly expect it under the circumstances,” Cole smiled.

  “Well, it’s settled then,” Roberta replied happily. “You must stay. After all, you did bring Al home, and we are indebted to you.”

  Unable to regain Roberta’s attention, Al gave a subdued snort and made his way toward the back of the house. The oversize boots clumped noisily against the floor, marking his passage through the mansion. The sound of his stride was like a death toll echoing through the stripped rooms, and he softened his steps. The house was hardly more than a shadow of its former splendor, and it was painful to look about at the bare walls and empty nooks and crannies where once treasured pieces had been displayed. Absent, too, was the usual bustle of servants. Al could surmise that except for Dulcie’s family, all the slaves had gone.

  He swu
ng open the kitchen door and found the black woman busy preparing a stew for the evening meal. Dulcie was a large-boned woman, broad but not fat, and stood a good head taller than the slight youth. She paused in scraping a carrot and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the unkempt lad and frowned heavily in displeasure as she looked him over.

  “Whad yo’ doing here, boy?” she questioned suspiciously. She threw down the carrot and rose to her feet, wiping her hands angrily on the large white apron. “If’n yo’ wants some vittles, yo’ comes to de back do’. Doan come traipsin’ through Mastah Angus’s house like some lord almighty Yankee.”

  Fearful that her voice might carry to the parlor, Al tried to shush the Negress and gestured toward the front of the house. But seeing the open bemusement on the servant’s face, he stepped closer and laid a hand on the woman’s arm.

  “Dulcie, it’s me—Al—”

  “Law-w-w-sy!” The screech of recognition seemed to ring through the whole manse before it ended abruptly as the wide-eyed youth clapped an anxious hand over the old woman’s mouth.

  In the parlor Roberta glanced worriedly toward the direction of the kitchen before meeting Cole’s wondering gaze. Coyly she murmured behind her fan, “Al always did have a way with Dulcie.”

  Avoiding any further inquiries, she engaged him in bubbling conversation. The color of his uniform she had already discarded as irrelevant. He was a man, completely and totally. It showed in his walk, his speech, his gestures. The easy rich timbre of his voice sent delightful shivers down her spine. His manners were smooth and polished, yet she sensed in him that which brooked no impertinence. He was at ease with her. Still, she surmised that he would be equally relaxed in a group of men. She had barely met him, yet her blood was warmed by his presence, and she thrilled with the idea of being actively courted again.

  Cole had resigned himself to a wasted day when the misplaced waif became his responsibility. It was rare enough that his duties at the hospital permitted his absence for even an afternoon. And he found it difficult to resolve this splendid turn of events. To be here in a cool parlor enjoying a pleasant repartee with a desirable woman was a greater reward than he might have expected from giving aid to an orphan whelp. He relaxed as he listened to Roberta’s light and animated chatter until a few moments later a carriage rattled to a halt before the house, immediately silencing the effervescent woman. Concern creased her brow, and she came to her feet, at once nervous and more than a trifle distraught.

  “Excuse me, Captain. I do believe my parents have arrived home.” She was about to hurry into the hall when the front door burst open and Angus Craighugh came charging through the portal, followed closely by his wife. Angus was a short, stocky man of Scottish descent, with whitening tawny hair and a broad, ruddy face. Leala Craighugh was a distraught woman whose small stature had grown plump with the passing years. Her dark hair was lightly streaked with gray, and her sudden distress clearly showed in her large, dark eyes. Indeed, the anxious expressions the elders wore gave mute evidence that both had seen the roan with its Federal trappings. They could only think the worst.

  Roberta had no chance to halt her parents out of earshot of the captain and explain his presence. He had decorously risen with her and now faced the two who could hardly do more than gape at him.

  “Is there trouble?” Angus Craighugh demanded. He shot a quick glance toward his daughter but gave her no pause to answer before his anger was again turned on the Union officer. Craighugh’s stubborn, square jaw tightened as he hotly declared, “Sir, my daughter is not in the habit of entertaining your men in the absence of a proper chaperon, and most especially, Yankees. If you have business with me, we’ll go into my study, where we won’t disturb the ladies.”

  Cole was about to allay the man’s fears when Roberta interceded. “Daddy, dear—this is Captain Latimer. He met Al at the dock and was kind enough to escort him here.”

  Rumbling in confusion, Angus scowled darkly at his only child. Some of the indignation apparent in his ruddy face yielded to obvious bewilderment. “Al? Him? What is this, Roberta? Some tomfoolery of yours?”

  “Please, Daddy.” She took his hand and her black, shining eyes stared intensely into his. “He’s in the kitchen getting a bite to eat. Why don’t you and Mama go and greet him.”

  In some consternation the elder Craighughs acceded to their daughter’s urgings. Roberta relaxed a bit as she found herself once more alone with Cole. She graced him with a fetching smile and was about to comment on the heat of the day when, from the rear of the house, there came a shrill scream followed, after a breath’s pause, by a rush of confused French. Roberta jumped as if stung, but recovered herself quickly as she realized the captain was already moving past her.

  “No! Please!” she gasped, grasping his arm. She was saved from the need of further physical effort by the reappearance of her father supporting his distraught wife against him and patting her cheek while she continued to babble a stream of incoherent words. Angus hastened to lower his burden to the settee and managed to calm her flood of garbled verbiage.

  “Perhaps I could be of assistance, sir,” Cole offered, stepping near. “I am a doctor.”

  “No!” The answer was sharp and sudden. Angus waved away the other’s help and, struggling to control himself, continued more calmly. “No, please. Forgive her. It was just the surprise—there was a mouse.” He shrugged lamely.

  Cole appeared to accept the excuse until he looked pointedly toward the door where Al had come to lean against the molding, then he nodded. “I think I understand.”

  Roberta twisted her hands anxiously, nervously eyeing the youth. “Al has changed so much, it would give anybody a shock—”

  Leala had regained a small bit of composure and struggled to sit upright. Carefully keeping her gaze away from the lad, she tried to maintain some semblance of poise.

  “You must forgive us all, Captain,” Angus said rather tersely. The older man appeared rather strained as he faced the doctor. “We don’t often have Union officers visiting here. We were sure there was some difficulty, then to see the—ah—boy, Al—”

  The youth sauntered casually into the room, his large boots dragging on the threadbare rug, and gave them his own dirty-faced grin, showing small, sparkling white teeth for a moment. He shrugged and gave the excuse, “Sorry, Uncle Angus. I ain’t never been too good at writin’, and ‘sides, I couldn’ve sent a letter nohow.”

  Angus flinched slightly as the lad spoke, while Leala’s bewildered gaze fastened on the boy and followed his every movement.

  “It’s all right, Al,” Angus managed to reply. “These are hard times.”

  Roberta smiled somewhat tremulously at Cole. “I do hope you don’t think we’re a bunch of ninnies with this display, Captain.”

  “Of course not,” Cole assured her politely, though his eyes, raising to the slim lad, gleamed with amusement.

  Angus moved between and stood where the Yankee could no longer survey the youth. “I hope you will accept our gratitude for bringing Al to us. No telling where the boy would have ended up had it not been for you.”

  Al strolled jauntily across the room, seeming to challenge some comment from the Yankee. Cole responded by giving the youth a twisted grin. “In truth, sir, he was having himself quite a tussle with some soldiers when I interrupted.”

  “Oooh!” Leala gasped and, seizing her fan, plied it with great verve.

  Angus momentarily directed his attention to his wife. “Are you all right, Mama?”

  “Oui,” she choked and nodded stoutly. “I am fine.”

  Angus turned his concern to the boy. “Was there some difficulty? Are you—all right?”

  “Sure!” Al swaggered and showed a small doubled fist. “Given a chance, I’da whupped them bluebellies.”

  His uncle gave him a strange look. “Well,” he sighed, “I’m glad you’re here safely and it’s all over.”

  Al smiled slyly. “ ‘
Tain’t over.” All eyes swung round to him and, except for the captain, no one breathed. The gamin grinned broadly. “Roberta asked the doc to stay fer supper.”

  Leala’s fan rattled to the floor, and she slumped back in her chair with a forlorn groan. She could only stare in numb disbelief at her offspring. Angus’s face darkened ominously as he, too, looked at his daughter. It was a long moment of awkward silence.

  Cole thought it best to relieve their distress. “I am on duty later tonight at the hospital, sir. I’m afraid I cannot accept the invitation.”

  “Oh, Captain,” Roberta mewled, ignoring her parent’s displeasure. “Surely you will let us show our appreciation for you bringing Al to us. When will you be free again?”

  Cole was amused at her persistence and determination. “If no difficulty occurs, I will have an evening liberty Friday of next week.”

  “Then you must come and share a meal with us Friday evening,” Roberta urged sweetly despite her father’s warning scowl.

  Cole could hardly mistake the reluctance of her parents and turned his consideration to the other man. “Only with your permission, sir.”

  The elder silently conveyed his disapproval to the daughter but could only resign himself. Short of blunt discourtesy, he could find no way out. “Of course, Captain. We do appreciate your service to the boy.”

  “The least I could do, sir,” Cole replied politely. “It seemed the lad needed someone to take him firmly in hand. I am much relieved to see him with his kin.”

  “Huh!” Al scoffed. “One less brat on your mind. You bluebellies make enough orphans and then have the gall to prance yer rears into parlors laid bare by your thieving men—”

  Leala’s wavering voice whined fearfully, and she wrung her hands disconcertedly, looking plaintively toward her husband. Angus hastened to pour a strong sherry for his wife in hopes of offsetting her shock. He pressed the goblet into her trembling hand and waited until she took a deep drink, then looked at Al reprovingly. “I’m sure that Captain Latimer had nothing to do with that, Al.”