Morgan leaned forward and placed his empty coffee mug on the corner of Cobb’s desk. He extended his hand for the sketch and when Cobb gave it over, Morgan held it up for Cobb and Jane to get the perspective he had. With his free hand, he pointed to the narrow, sharp-edged face. “This is my oldest brother,” he said without inflection. “This is Gideon.”
Walt was standing in the Pennyroyal’s foyer when Jane and Morgan walked in. He greeted them warmly, took their coats and Morgan’s hat, and started to show them to the dining room. Morgan put up a hand, halting him, and inquired about a room.
Jane stopped as well and regarded her husband with considerable surprise. The request was unexpected. “I thought we were going to eat and then return to Morning Star.”
“Do you object to hot running water and a bathtub so big that?—”
Jane raised her hand and placed it over his mouth. She would swear she could feel the imprint of his wicked smile against her palm. “Excuse my husband, Walt. He forgets himself.”
“Oh, it’s all right, ma’am. I’ve heard the like before and more besides.” He put a finger to his own lips. “It’s not in me to talk about things I shouldn’t, and I reckon Mr. Longstreet knows that.”
Jane dropped her hand when Morgan nodded. “I will depend upon your discretion, Walt. Please, tell us that you have a room.”
“Sure do. Just the one. Number six at the end of the hall. You want to sign in now? Mrs. Sterling will be real happy to hear you’re spending the night.”
“Show me the book,” Morgan said, “and then show us to a table.”
It was almost two hours later that Jane and Morgan followed Walt up the stairs and were escorted to their room. Jane unpinned her hat and held it against her midriff while she collapsed backward on the bed. She lay like that for a time, eyes closed, legs dangling over the side, and enjoyed the splendid comfort of doing nothing, thinking nothing.
Morgan tossed his hat on the seat of a chair and laid their coats over the back of it. He lit a lamp on the dresser and another on the bedside table before he knelt at Jane’s limp feet and began to unfasten the laces in her boots. She made funny little whimpering sounds of contentment as he worked the boots off.
“Are these too tight?” he asked her, dropping the first one to the floor. “Maybe you need a new pair. We can do that tomorrow morning before we leave.”
“There is nothing wrong with them. Barefoot is simply better.”
“Oh. Well, in that case…” He reached under her skirt all the way to the garter above her knee and began to unroll her stockings.
Jane’s sigh defined bliss. “I believe you would make a most excellent lady’s maid.”
“Did you have one?” He lifted one of her feet and pressed his thumbs into the ball and sole. She actually shivered with pleasure. That was encouraging.
“Of my own? No. But if there was an important event that required my being turned out like a new penny, Rebecca’s maid had to make time for me. She minded a great deal less than Rebecca.”
“I’ve noticed you never write to her. To anyone.” When he paused his massage of her foot while he waited for a response, she curled her toes and let him know he should go on. “I thought you would write to Alexander.”
“The express mail train crosses the country both ways. You have not seen any letters from him, have you?”
“No.”
“There is your answer. I rarely think of him, of any of them, actually.” Jane whimpered again when he found a sweet spot in the tender arch of her foot. “I know the circumstances of being separated from our families are very different, but did you think much about them during your incarceration?”
“I guess I did. In the beginning anyway. Trying to forget something—or someone—is the wrong way to go about making peace with it. At least that’s what I’m learning. Putting that memory front and center makes it a wall you can’t see over or get around. And if you put the damn thing so far behind you that it’s hardly a recollection anymore, the next thing you know it’s biting you in the ass.”
“Like Gideon and Jack.”
He nodded. “Exactly like Gideon and Jack. So I guess the only way to go on without slamming into walls or getting bit is to keep it all beside you and acknowledge it from time to time.” He gave her foot a little tug. “Of course it helps if there’s someone around to keep you steady while you’re doing that.”
Jane dabbed at an errant tear that slid from the corner of her eye. “You say extraordinary things, Morgan Longstreet.”
“Huh.”
Levering herself up on her elbows, Jane regarded him with a watery smile and a slightly arched eyebrow. “Sometimes more than others.”
He grinned back at her. “How about I draw milady a bath?”
Jane groaned feelingly and fell on her back a second time. “Yes, please. Milady will be ever so grateful.”
“Oh, I’m counting on that.”
