Chapter Eight
“It still cannot be moved much.”
Matthew grimaced. “It has just finished healing, Boyd. The scar is still raw. Ye need to give it time.”
Boyd slumped in the chair he sat in. “There is no strength in it at all.”
“It needs to be worked with. That is what the doctor said. The strength will come if ye work it enough and in the right way.”
“What is the right way?”
“Ye should be asking the doctor about that. He will ken what it needs.”
Boyd sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Do you think Abigail might have an idea?”
“Lass kens a lot that surprises me so she might do. Ye want me to bring her round? Or we can go to see her in a few hours. She is helping the doctor right now.”
“Ah, he did say she was good. He even said she could be a doctor as she has the instinct if people let her. Did you know she talks to every Reb brought into the infirmary or captured? She asks after her brother.”
“She told me. She hasnae gotten the answers she seeks yet.”
“Do you think she ever will?” Boyd asked.
“I dinnae ken how she can find out anything. Armies are too big and spread all over the country. There were a lot of men coerced into the army or dragged in. Too many, I think, for anyone to recall one fellow. No one is going to recall one young man out of hundreds.”
“No, most likely not.”
“She’ll find him when he wanders back home.”
“If he wanders back home.”
“Nay, we will think when. Dinnae want to tempt fate.”
“Certainly don’t,” Boyd muttered, staring at his limp arm.
“Laddie, ye still have the limb. Many a field doctor would have lopped it off.”
“Why?” Boyd reached for his wounded arm, absently rubbing at it.
“Infection, the way some limbs can wither if unused, and who kens what else. Ye still have the arm. Let that be enough for now. And I think ye havenae given up all hope yet. Ye are rubbing it just like the doc and Abbie said ye should. Really, give it time.” Matthew moved his seat closer. “Now, how about we try some of the lifting that they did suggest.”
“Don’t understand why one should work a dead arm,” Boyd complained as Matthew wrapped a sandbag around his arm just below his elbow and tied it on.
“Keeps it from withering, I suspicion. Let’s see if we can lift the arm up.”
Matthew only got it lifted up once and Boyd moaned, sweat breaking out on his brow. “Not ready for that then.” He started just gently lifting Boyd’s forearm up until the boy regained his composure. “Keep it simple. The upper arm obviously needs more time to heal.”
“Do you think that is why I can’t move it?”
“Could be. Too soon to ken that, but this is good, too.”
After a half hour Matthew took the weight off. He looked at Boyd. The younger man look exhausted and it puzzled him. If there was no feeling in the arm, why would it being moved tire him out? Then he reminded himself the wound had been a bad one.
“Are ye staying here at the infirmary or coming back to where we’re bunking?”
“I think I am staying here a little longer.”
“Probably best until lifting that arm doesnae make ye nearly go down. Weel, I will wander by tomorrow. For now I am going to see Abigail. She must be back at the Beaton house by now.”
“How is she doing? Getting along fine at that house?”
“Aye, but I have the feeling young Abigail is one who can make her way anywhere.” Matthew smiled when Boyd laughed. “Perhaps this time she and I will go walking to get away from all the women and will not get shot at.”
As he left the infirmary, Matthew hoped the young man’s arm would heal. It would almost be better to have lost the arm than to go on with it hanging uselessly at one’s side. He suspected Boyd might not agree. Despite how despondent he got over the problem, it was obvious that Boyd still clung to the hope that it would get better, which was a possibility. Matthew would do his best to say nothing that might crush that hope.
He had had enough of the war. It was undoubtedly selfish and unpatriotic but he was worn to the bone. He missed his home and family until it was a continuing ache in his very bones. He decided what he needed was to see Abigail, then groaned. When his body tightened at the mere thought of her, it was past time for him to do some hard thinking about the woman and their future.
He rapped on the Beaton house door and Mrs. Beaton answered. If he did not already know the woman he would have been cowed by the scowl on her face. Instead he asked for Abigail and was told to wait in the parlor. He hoped it would not take too long to get her and went to sit on the settee.
* * *
“The lieutenant is here again.”
Abbie gave a start and looked up from the book she was reading. “Where is he?”
“In the parlor. Waiting. Looks like Julia is resting so you do not have to keep watch for a while.”
Glancing at her friend, Abbie had to agree. Julia was finally having a good rest. She’d given her a tiny drop of the medicine and it was doing the job. Abbie hoped it was not going to hurt the child in any way. She checked her hair, tightened the ribbon on it, then brushed her skirts down and followed Mrs. Beaton down the stairs.
Matthew stood up as she came into the room and smiled at her. Abbie sighed quietly because that was always a fine thing to see. “Afternoon, Matthew.”
He stepped close and kissed her hand. “I was wondering if ye would care to go for a walk.”
Glancing at the sun beaming through the window, Abbie nodded. “Yes, I think that would suit me very well.”
He took her by the arm and led her out into the hall, idly wondering why Mrs. Beaton was lurking around. After helping Abbie into her coat, he smiled at Mrs. Beaton and led Abbie out the door. He heard the door shut behind them with a sharp click and wondered why the woman was in such a sour mood.
“Is something wrong with Mrs. Beaton?” he asked.
“No. She is just in a bit of a snit about Julia having a child.”
“Weel, not much can be done to change that.”
“I know. I am just hoping she gets over it. After all, Julia is married.”
Enjoying the quiet of the day, Abbie barely noticed when he abruptly turned into an alley between two deserted houses. “Why are we in here again?”
“Privacy,” he said as he walked her back until she was pinned between him and a wall. “We so rarely have any.”
Before she could respond to that truth, he was kissing her. It was not long before her tongue joined his in the play and she tightened her hold on him, loving the feel of his warm, hard body against hers. The way he rubbed his hands up and down her back, skimming her sides, fired her blood. When he ended the kiss even she recognized the sound she made as one of protest.
He took her hand while she was still reeling from his kiss and led her into the house she had just leaned against. “I should have recognized that move, sir.”
“I shall have to come up with a new one. Cannae tolerate being predictable.”
She bit back a laugh. “They are lucky this house has not been burnt down.”
“It is empty. Fire is usually set to drive people out.”
“Ah, of course. There probably will not be much left in the area to come back to, however.”
“No, and that is a shame, but I suspect it will return in some form before too long. “Now”—he led her into what she suspected had been the parlor—“I have set up a small feast for us in here. A picnic ye might call it.”
“You are getting a lot of use out of this house.”
“Aye.” He moved to light a lantern he brought in from the hall where it had sat on the table near the door.
Abigail saw the same table they’d had their picnic on before. There was the bread and cheese and this time it was with thinly sliced ham. Yet again there was wine and glasses to sip it in.
“Did you play cards with the major again?” she finally asked.
“I did. He did say he suspects I put the drink to better use than he does and I already opened it to pour him a glass. Used my share of the rations to get the bread made and paid a woman for the bread, cheese, and butter.”
“Oh yes, I heard you had gotten a recent hearty delivery of supplies.”
“It was, but the supplies are already going down. A lot of the people in town either sneak or beg some. It is not attacks by Rebs weakening our supplies now but the need of the people in town. The prize still being sought is food. It is in short supply in too many places.”
“Probably has always been the same where armies are.”
“Aye. It is why my brother keeps having troubles, from the gray and the blue. We have lost a number of our sheep, which angers the Jones brothers. They are our shepherds. David and Owen.”
“Sheep? You sell mutton?”
“And wool, which brings us more actually.” He placed a piece of ham on a slice of the bread. “I never thought I would say this, but I miss the shearing.”
She laughed as she added a bit of ham to her meal, placing it carefully on the bread. “You miss the companionship of your family I suspect, so anything you did together shines brighter in your mind.”
“That is probably true.”
“I wish I knew where my brother was so I could return to him. Together we should fare well enough.”
“If he had gone with the Blues, maybe I could have helped more.”
“The Union had its draft. It is a way of roping in someone who doesn’t really want to be a soldier.”
“True.” He stood up, walked over to where she sat, took her by the hand, and pulled her to her feet. “When the leaders decide they are going to fight they will get the men they need any way they can.” He sat down and pulled her down beside him. “But”—he pulled her into his arms—“I dinnae want to talk on war or leaders.”
She leaned into him. “What do you want to talk about?”
“This.”
He kissed her, and as he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue he pushed her down onto the settee so that he could sprawl on top of her. Abbie loved the feel of his body on hers. She knew he held up most of his weight on his forearms but the weight he did allow to rest on her felt as warm as a caress. Abbie wrapped her arms around his body and held him close, savoring the hardness of him between her thighs.
He began to stroke her, his hands going up and down her sides, brushing against the sides of her breasts. That felt good, but then he undid the buttons on the bodice of her gown. She was enjoying the seductive play with his tongue, the hot kisses followed by the kisses on her throat and neck, when she suddenly became aware of the fact that he had finished opening the bodice of her gown and was covering the swells of her breasts with the damp heat of his kiss.
He returned his kisses to her mouth as he slipped his hand beneath her skirts. Abigail tensed as he touched her where no man had ever touched her, but with one stroke of his fingers she lost the unease that had gripped her. She clutched at his shoulders as he teased her body to a blaze. Then she felt him tug at her drawers and lifted her hips a little. When he tugged them off her, she blushed even as she kissed the hollow of his throat.
It was not until he tugged her bodice down, exposing her breasts that she got nervous. Or embarrassed. She was not sure which it was that had her hastily trying to cover her breasts with her hands. He smiled then caught her hands in his and pulled them away. Then he licked her nipple and she shuddered with the strength of the feeling that went through her.
As he kissed and licked at her breasts, Matthew released himself from his breeches. This was not the way he planned things, but he would take his chance now and try to make the whole matter more romantic for her later. Kissing her mouth even as he kneaded her breasts he eased himself inside her. He heard her squeak in surprise, maybe even pain, and tried to move slowly but his body had different ideas. He grabbed the back of her legs and lifted them until she curled them around his waist. Kissing her mouth, he moved and this time she moaned in a way that fired his blood.
Abbie gasped from the pinch of pain as he entered her then felt the fullness of him inside of her. She was still savoring the sensation when he began to move and kissed her. When he lifted her legs, she wrapped them tightly around his body and the sensation of him moving inside of her grew stronger. She clung to him as he moved faster and her body grew tighter. Then the heat that had been building inside of her swept over her and she cried out against his mouth. She was still shuddering from the waves of feeling as he moved faster, drove himself as deep as he could, and tensed, a low growling noise escaping him.
When he slowly left her Abbie became all too aware of what they had just done. She hastily pulled and tugged at her clothes to make sure everything was covered when he moved to the side. Her first clear thought was: What did someone say afterward? Should she politely thank him or yell at him and leave? Then he brushed a kiss over her mouth. Moving her hands, he carefully redid the buttons on her bodice.
“Abbie?” he said softly.
“What?” she asked as she searched out her drawers and tried desperately to put them on again without exposing herself.
He put his arm around her and gently kissed her on the forehead. “I cannae tell if ye are just embarrassed or upset with me.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “Neither can I.” She smiled faintly when he laughed. “I just didn’t know what one says afterward or if one says anything.”
“I have no idea. Interesting thought. Compliments?”
“About what? None of the things that happened are things I can speak about.”
“Of course.”
“And how could I give compliments? You must have guessed I have never done this before.”
“Um, yes, I noticed.”
“Lieutenant? Miss Jenson?”
“Oh no, not again,” Abbie groaned, and thumped her forehead against his chest.
“That you, Mabel?”
“Yes, miss. I was sent to tell you that Julia, well, it is time.”
“Time for what?”
“The baby, miss. She is having the baby.”
“Oh no! I will be right there.” Abbie hastily checked her clothes and decided they were in relatively good shape, then began to dig around for the ribbon she had had tied in her hair.
“Here,” Matthew said, and waved the ribbon in front of her face. “And may I suggest ye cease to act so guilty if ye dinnae want anyone asking questions.”
“I was not acting guilty.” She quickly tied her hair back and reached for her coat.
“Oh, aye, ye were.” He stood up when she did and yanked her into his arms to give her a hard kiss. “I will speak with ye later so think on some compliments.” He grinned at the sound of annoyance she made before hurrying off with Mabel.
As he picked up things and put the wineglasses away, he decided to check and see if the family had left any children’s books behind. Walking up the stairs he looked around and approved of the woodwork even as he looked for a child’s room. Finding one at last he searched it and found three little books; in another he found a big book that had a collection of tales. Satisfied, he carried them back downstairs and put them in his bag before continuing to clean up.
They would not come back to this place, he decided. Being found here twice was enough. If he got another chance to get Abbie alone he did not want to fear an interruption. He hoped all went well for Julia. Robert had been a good man. He deserved to have his child grow up straight and proud.
He stepped outside and scowled up at the sky. A raindrop hit him in the face and he started to run. He hoped Abbie got home before this, and a quick glance at the Beaton house as he rushed by reassured him. If Abbie was still out the light would be on. All he had to do was get himself inside. When the skies opened and the rain began to pour down he ducked into the infirmary. Maybe he would visit with Boyd again.