and retraced his steps to the tavern. He whispered orders to the half-dozen soldiers standing at the corner. With instructions to hurry into the alley and grab as many bags as they could handle, Shaw headed through the tavern door and into the kitchen.
“May I help you, soldier?” an older woman said, her arms white with flour up to her elbows. He recognized her as Dru’s co-worker, Maggie.
“I need to speak to Miss Little.”
The woman straightened from her chore, the heavy wood rolling pin still grasped in both hands. With the sturdy worktable between them, Shaw wasn’t worried for his safety, but the anger marring the woman’s face made him hesitate.
“She’s ill. Besides, ‘tis unseemly to be calling on the lass in the middle of the day. Her employer will not allow it.”
“What is going on?” A tall, grim-faced woman strode down the back stairs and sauntered over to Shaw. She planted herself in front of him, and scowled.
“I need to speak with Miss Little.” He dare not admit he’d left his hat in her bedroom, but he needed its return. He also expected none of the soldiers would return to town for some time. The war would start very soon, and he had to say his good-byes.
He tempered his remorse for not completing their intimate encounter , with the knowledge that he might never see her again. Rubbing his chest, he waited for the stern woman to say something more.
“I do not think—”
“What do you want, Lieutenant Stenhouse?”
Shaw turned his attention to the small back staircase. Dru stood on the bottom step, her hands behind her back, her face too pale. “Are you ill Miss Little?”
“I say, Lieutenant Stenhouse, such an intimate question is not to be tolerated,” the older woman squawked.
“Mistress Cumberland, let the man speak and then he will leave. Am I right?” Dru stared at him and slowly walked across the kitchen. When she sidled closer, the nasty woman turned and hurried out into the dining area.
The cook made a small tsking sound and returned to her dough. Focusing on Dru’s pale face, Shaw read the sly glint in her eye. A small smile curled her lips. She pushed the hidden hat into his hand, having carried it behind her from her bedroom. He knew relief filled his expression when she laughed.
“May we speak? In private?”
Dru stared up at him, then turned and strode toward the kitchen door. He followed and nearly slammed into her back when she stopped short.
“What—?”
Her attention locked on Shaw’s fellow soldiers. One man loaded bags onto the shoulders of the others. Shaw counted the bags taken, and placed a handful of coins into Dru’s hand. “We beg your forgiveness, Miss Little, but we need supplies.”
“So formal?” she whispered.
The words floated over him, and the glance she threw his way made his body tighten. Memories of their near-copulation shown in her face, and her fragrance wafted over him. He coughed, then placed his hat on his head.
Straightening, he peered toward the docks in the distance. The boats would land soon, as Major Anderson promised.
“Dru,” he whispered, “this will compensate your employer, but we need these supplies. War will soon begin. I will not return anytime soon.” Would she recognize the sorrow in his words? He hoped she knew that leaving her was not his choice.
“I don’t believe it. War?”
“The union is dissolved and several southern states now consider the United States Army their enemy. My men are in danger. We must leave now.” Shaw bent down and levied a quick peck on her pale cheek, hoping she could feel the longing in his heart. To sweep her back into her bed and lose himself in her soft, silky center would be a perfect end to the day.
It was not to be.
“You return to the fort?”
“Aye. I have my orders, but I find myself at odds with my commander.”
“Oh?” Dru’s eyes locked on his mouth, as if remembering their passionate kisses.
“I want to stay and finish…” He could not
“May I help you, soldier?” an older woman said, her arms white with flour up to her elbows. He recognized her as Dru’s co-worker, Maggie.
“I need to speak to Miss Little.”
The woman straightened from her chore, the heavy wood rolling pin still grasped in both hands. With the sturdy worktable between them, Shaw wasn’t worried for his safety, but the anger marring the woman’s face made him hesitate.
“She’s ill. Besides, ‘tis unseemly to be calling on the lass in the middle of the day. Her employer will not allow it.”
“What is going on?” A tall, grim-faced woman strode down the back stairs and sauntered over to Shaw. She planted herself in front of him, and scowled.
“I need to speak with Miss Little.” He dare not admit he’d left his hat in her bedroom, but he needed its return. He also expected none of the soldiers would return to town for some time. The war would start very soon, and he had to say his good-byes.
He tempered his remorse for not completing their intimate encounter , with the knowledge that he might never see her again. Rubbing his chest, he waited for the stern woman to say something more.
“I do not think—”
“What do you want, Lieutenant Stenhouse?”
Shaw turned his attention to the small back staircase. Dru stood on the bottom step, her hands behind her back, her face too pale. “Are you ill Miss Little?”
“I say, Lieutenant Stenhouse, such an intimate question is not to be tolerated,” the older woman squawked.
“Mistress Cumberland, let the man speak and then he will leave. Am I right?” Dru stared at him and slowly walked across the kitchen. When she sidled closer, the nasty woman turned and hurried out into the dining area.
The cook made a small tsking sound and returned to her dough. Focusing on Dru’s pale face, Shaw read the sly glint in her eye. A small smile curled her lips. She pushed the hidden hat into his hand, having carried it behind her from her bedroom. He knew relief filled his expression when she laughed.
“May we speak? In private?”
Dru stared up at him, then turned and strode toward the kitchen door. He followed and nearly slammed into her back when she stopped short.
“What—?”
Her attention locked on Shaw’s fellow soldiers. One man loaded bags onto the shoulders of the others. Shaw counted the bags taken, and placed a handful of coins into Dru’s hand. “We beg your forgiveness, Miss Little, but we need supplies.”
“So formal?” she whispered.
The words floated over him, and the glance she threw his way made his body tighten. Memories of their near-copulation shown in her face, and her fragrance wafted over him. He coughed, then placed his hat on his head.
Straightening, he peered toward the docks in the distance. The boats would land soon, as Major Anderson promised.
“Dru,” he whispered, “this will compensate your employer, but we need these supplies. War will soon begin. I will not return anytime soon.” Would she recognize the sorrow in his words? He hoped she knew that leaving her was not his choice.
“I don’t believe it. War?”
“The union is dissolved and several southern states now consider the United States Army their enemy. My men are in danger. We must leave now.” Shaw bent down and levied a quick peck on her pale cheek, hoping she could feel the longing in his heart. To sweep her back into her bed and lose himself in her soft, silky center would be a perfect end to the day.
It was not to be.
“You return to the fort?”
“Aye. I have my orders, but I find myself at odds with my commander.”
“Oh?” Dru’s eyes locked on his mouth, as if remembering their passionate kisses.
“I want to stay and finish…” He could not
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