The name grated on her nerves. “My name is Beth to you.” She turned and walked off, back to the cool, wet sand. She had no desire to hear him rattle off the possible consequences of her breaking her word. He wouldn’t be above reporting Lucy as an escaped slave or telegraphing the authorities where Devon might be. Risks she wasn’t willing to take. She might have failed Eyes-Like-Sky all of those years ago, but she wouldn’t fail Devon or Lucy.
Several minutes later, Nick walked up beside her. He took off his coat and tossed it on the sand. Sitting down, he yanked off his socks and shoes as if they were done with the unpleasantness. “Come. I bet you’ve never seen the ocean before.” He reached for her hand. And maybe for the first time ever, at least in her sight, he wore a genuine smile.
She pressed her hands to her sides. “I don’t want to go in.”But she did. Only, she wanted to go in by herself…and maybe never come out.
His smile faded. “All right. I’ll give you time. Maybe tomorrow.”
Maybe never.
If Devon were here, she’d run in with him and jump the waves. He’d hold her hand and tell her there was nothing to be afraid of, that he would protect her.
Tears stung her eyes. Devon would live to see the ocean again someday. Praise the Lord.
But he would not see it with her. Never. Not if she could help it. The very thought of her meeting him years from now after she’d married Nick and become what she would become curdled her stomach. No. Let him remember her how she had been. Not the woman who blushed from head to toe every time some hotel clerk or baggage handler looked at her. Of course, she’d be married to Nick by then, but it wouldn’t matter. Nick had kept his word so far about not bedding her until after the wedding, but it was perception that counted in the eyes of others. That type of stain would never go away.
Frieda might very well win Devon’s affection. Morning Fawn would rather stay in England her whole life than see such a thing.
A handful of seagulls glided overhead, hovering on the breeze. Two of their counterparts strutted on the beach looking for leavings. Farther out, a pelican skimmed along the top of the water, flapping its wings and scooping up fish.
The water called to her. She stepped forward, lifting her skirts only a few inches. Cold brown liquid swirled past her ankles. A few feet more, and it was to her mid-calves. This water would carry her from Texas, as far from her pia and the home she’d come to be part of as the moon was from earth. Devon had once promised her the moon. She could livewithout it. What she wanted was him in her life, every day, always.
She’d done right in making the deal, and if she had it to do over again, she’d do the same. But living the future she’d agreed to? Water splashed against her knees as a wave came in, then retreated. Sand and bits of shells rushed against her legs on their way back out into the Gulf.
“You don’t look well.” Nick stood in front of her.
She hadn’t even seen him coming. The sun glinted in her eyes as she looked up at his frown.
“Come on.” He took her by the arm and drew her toward shore. “We’re going back to the hotel.”
“No. I’ll smother there.” Smother beneath the looks, the walls, the world that wasn’t hers. “Let me stay here. Leave your men to watch if you want. I’ll sit on the shore.”
The wind whipped his usually toniced hair over his forehead. “If that’s what you want, but you’ll be tired of the ocean by the time we reach England. I went down to Kuhns Wharf today. Found the captain of a blockade runner, theEliza Jane, getting ready to sail in two days. I secured passage for both of us. He can marry us as well. I even stopped by the tailor’s and paid him to work through the nights on your dresses.”
“Two days?” She gulped. Her knees wavered.
“Yes. I have cotton contracts to secure in England. There won’t be another runner out for a week.”
“But I might not hear by then if Devon made it safely to the Yankee lines.”
He thrust out a breath. “You’ll probably never hear that, my dear. It’s not like they’re going to make an announcement. The only news will be if they catch him. But to be sure, I’ll check the papers before we sail.” He picked up his shoes. “If you’re hoping he’ll show up here, don’t count on it. He’ll be doing good to get to Matagorda or Brownsville free of bullet holes. The authorities up and down the coast will be searching forhim. Besides, if he comes to Galveston, someone is going home in a casket. And it won’t be you.” A half smile flittered across his lips.
“I hope he doesn’t show.” She turned back to the water. What if he did? A wild surge of hope flowed through her before reality stopped it cold. She’d given her word to Nick. Her word. A fetter that couldn’t be broken even with a sledgehammer.
CHAPTER 37
Every muscle taut, Devon leaned onto his mustang’s foam-coated neck. Almost to Matagorda, and they’d been spotted by a squad of Reb cavalry. He gripped the reins in one hand as he goaded the animal with his knees, demanding every extra hoof beat he could get.
Hip-high brown brittle grass swished by. No tree cover, just prairie and marsh. His saddle horn pressed below his ribs as they plowed through the carpet of growth and struck the red dirt of the trail. The Federal lines couldn’t be much farther. Not even Jeremy knew for certain how far. They could only pray that their troops still controlled the peninsula.
Bare-headed, Jeremy galloped alongside at breakneck speed, reins in one hand and a carbine in the other, twisting and firing. Frederick hung on for dear life while the cavalry troopers amongst the group rode and shot as best they could manage.
Bullets from their pursuers zinged by. One grazed Devon’s ear. The muscles of his injured arm rebelled as he flexed his left hand tight on the reins and reached for his Colt with his right.
A biting wind kicked sand into his face. Salt air mixed withthe rotten egg stink of gunpowder. A bugle sounded up ahead. He squinted and peered into the distance. Men on horseback?Dear God. Please let it be.He blinked again. A couple dozen soldiers rode toward them. Soldiers dressed in dusty blue. Thank God! Hope surged through him.
Another bullet whizzed by, close enough to slice his sleeve and tingle his flesh.
A loud grunt from somewhere close behind. He couldn’t turn, couldn’t afford to look back.
