Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 Read online

  “My father is honored to have him as a guest, and he’s planned a barbecue in his honor on Sunday, the eleventh. I’d like for you to come as my guest.”

  “Me sit down to a table to eat with a Radical?” she cried, then she realized that he was looking at her with amusement, and that was annoying. She hated the way men felt women should not know, or care, anything about politics, much less dare to voice an opinion.

  And now he stared at her as though she were an amusing child, and she stamped her foot and glared up at him, eyes stormy. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to be funny, Nathan. I know what I’m talking about. That man wants war…”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I guess you’ll tell me next that you know enough about the subject that you don’t feel secession—or war—is wise for North Carolina.”

  She nodded firmly, eyes still fiery.

  Shaking his head, Nathan sighed and reached out to touch her shoulder, but she stepped back. “Katherine, secession, like war, is imminent. It’s merely a matter of time. Whether you like it or not, you’ve got to be loyal to your state—and to the South.”

  “I have no sympathy for the Radicals and all those who want war,” she stormed. “And neither does my father.”

  “But he would be loyal to his state, Katherine, and whatever position his state voted to take if war does come.” This time he reached out to touch her cheek, and she did not pull away. “Those of us who stand together won’t have any sympathy for those who stand apart. But do you and I have to quarrel? If you only knew how long I’ve wanted to call on you, but you never gave me any inclination that I might have a chance. I’ve heard about how you turn away every man who comes to your door.”

  Through lowered lashes, she looked at him teasingly. “Then why do you come now to invite me to a party for a man who supports something I stand against?”

  “Because I’ve waited too long already.” His voice was firm, and his arms encircled her waist. “Besides, last Sunday in church I happened to catch you looking at me, and there was a little sparkle of interest in those lovely eyes of yours, so I dared to hope maybe I’d have a chance. Now will you go to the party with me? We won’t have to worry about Weldon Edwards. We can be together.”

  A wave of dizziness washed over her. No one had ever made her feel this way—all quivery inside as though everything within would explode and burst any second. Confused, not knowing what to say, she turned to gaze out the barn window at the stark, naked fields beyond. To her father, this land was beautiful, and she shared his affection, because it was theirs. But to someone like Nathan, whose family owned hundreds and hundreds of acres of farmland, tended by a hundred or more slaves, this was poverty—a squalid dirt farm. Why, then, when they obviously lived in two different worlds, was he asking her to attend an important party at his family’s home?

  And then she remembered Nancy Warren, his constant companion at every social occasion. Snapping her head back to stare at him, she bluntly asked, “What about Nancy Warren? Did she go away to visit someone and leave you without someone to escort to the party?”

  “Now why do you have to be so stubborn?” His hands moved to clamp firmly on her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Can’t you get it through your head that you’re the girl I’ve yearned for all these years? I just never thought I’d have a chance with you, Katherine. Believe me, there’s no one else I’d rather be with than you.”

  She pulled away from him and walked slowly to the barn window. He followed and stood beside her. A few chickens pecked about in the yard, cackling softly to each other. “What about your family?” she asked. “Would they approve of your courting me, Nathan?”

  Quickly he reached to spin her around, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her cheeks. “You’re so beautiful… I’ve dreamed of this moment…”

  And then his lips came down, slowly, gently, at first, as she stiffened, then yielded, and the kiss became demanding as he tightened his arm about her to draw her body closer. For long, seemingly endless moments, they clung together. Kitty began to tremble with longing for more. There had been stolen kisses in corncribs or haystacks with boys when she was but a child, but never had there been a kiss like this, with fire and passion, a kiss that brought every fiber of her being alive and tingling with emotions she never dreamed existed with such force.

  Someone giggled. They pulled away instantly. Kitty turned just in time to see one of Jacob’s little boys scrambling down the rope that hung from the hayloft opening, escaping to the ground below, outside the barn.

  Once again they were alone. He reached for her, but she held back, whispering nervously, “We shouldn’t…”

  “Oh, yes, we should.” He pulled her against his chest. “I’ve wanted this for a long, long time, Katherine, and don’t lie to me and say you haven’t wanted it, too. I’ve seen you looking at me from across a room. Say you’ll come to the party with me. Don’t keep us apart when we feel this way about each other.”

  “I’ll talk to Poppa about it,” she said finally.

  “You don’t have to tell him that Mr. Edwards will be there.”

  “He probably already knows about it. Poppa hears all the gossip and talk.”

  “Would he forbid you to come?”

  She shook her head. “He lets me make my own decisions.”

  He sighed with relief, then said, respectfully, “You and your father are very close, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I love Poppa very much, Nathan. My mother and I, well,” she bit her lip, then went on, “we don’t agree on many things, and we quarrel a lot. She blames it on Poppa, saying he’s raised me as though I were the son he always wanted but never had. But that isn’t true. I just happen to believe that I have the right to speak my own mind and live my own life according to my will…and no one else’s.”

  His sparkling eyes reflected the pleasure he felt over hearing a young lady speak in such a manner. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Katherine Wright. You really are a free spirit, aren’t you? Maybe that’s why I find you so fascinating, because you’re such a challenge. I think I’d like to be the man to tame that spirit of yours.”

  “You think it can be tamed?” she challenged him.

  “I think I’ve wanted to since that day you sat on James Freeman in the mud puddle.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth in astonishment. “Did I really sit on him, Nathan? Oh, I don’t remember doing that. I just remember Momma whipping me for it.”

  “Yes, you sat on him,” he assured her, laughing, “and I’ll never forget the sight. The other girls were horrified, and I think they and a lot of the boys have been scared of you ever since.”

  The smile faded from her lips, but Nathan did not notice, nor did he know that he had just triggered painful memories. The other girls had avoided her for as long as she could remember; but she had tried not to let it bother her. There had been plenty to do to keep her busy on the farm, but still it hurt to hear of a birthday party or a summer afternoon tea she was not invited to.

  Nathan was prodding her once again. “Will you come to the party, Katherine?”

  She almost said yes, because she wanted to go with all her heart, but then she remembered that she had nothing to wear. “Nathan, I don’t even own a ball gown. We’re poor people, and there’s no money for such things. I’m very flattered that you invited me, and I’d be honored to go with you, but I don’t have a proper dress to wear.” The muslin dress she had on and another for Sunday were the only two dresses she owned. Her other clothes consisted of old pants and shirts of her father’s that she cut down to fit.

  “I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears. “I really am.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I know it matters to girls, though. Look, my sister, Adelia, is away in school, and she has ball gowns in her wardrobe that have never been worn. I could slip one out to you, and no one would ever know.”

  She was flattered by his thoughtfulness but knew how hurt her father would
be if he found out she borrowed a dress to wear. And she knew, but did not want to say, that her mother would find a way, if one were possible, to get a dress for her to wear to the party. If anyone could work a miracle at that point, it would be Lena Wright, who would be very anxious to have her daughter attend a party at the Collins plantation.

  “Could you ride by in a few days, Nathan? I will give you my answer then.”

  He kissed her again, rekindling the flames, his hand sliding around her waist, aching to touch the tempting swell of her breast, but not daring just yet. This time, there was no giggling, snooping child to make them draw apart, only the furious beating of two flaming hearts, pounding in unison, stirred and driven by the passion swelling between them.

  Reluctantly, he drew away. “I’ll come by, Katherine, and I’ll be praying that you’ll tell me you’ll go to the party with me.”

  Shyly, she held his hand as they left the barn and walked to his waiting horse. Mounting, he spurred the animal into a trot, turning to wave before disappearing in a swirl of dust.

  Turning toward the house, Kitty hugged herself with delight, finally breaking into a run, her skirt swirling about her ankles. Nathan Collins had kissed her, had invited her to a party, asked if he could court her, and he had kissed her again.

  At that moment, Kitty Wright felt that life was wonderful, that she was the happiest she had ever been in all of her eighteen years…that chilly day in early November, eighteen hundred and sixty.

  Chapter Two

  “Why do you keep staring out that window?” Lena noticed that Kitty was keeping a vigil. “And why won’t you tell me about Nathan’s visit? You two stayed in that barn such a long time it didn’t look proper.”

  Kitty decided it was best to keep silent. She didn’t want to talk about the invitation to the party until she had a chance to talk to her father about it, because if he strongly objected to her going to a party in honor of Weldon Edwards—well, she just wouldn’t go, and there was no need to give Lena more reason to nag.

  She was silently praying that he wouldn’t object. Just the thought of being with Nathan, being close to him, dancing with him, was enough to make her blush. But she knew only too well how John Wright felt about the secessionist movement, and he might ask her not to go to the party. If he did…but she didn’t want to think about that. He just had to say it was all right. He just had to.

  The tall, gangly man with stooped shoulders stepped out of the woods and into a bare field that bordered the farmhouse. He carried the flintlock musket that had belonged to his grandfather, and he wore a ragged wool jacket, faded overalls, and the old straw hat he had woven himself. At his side, the old hound “Killer” loped along lazily. The dog was harmless and it was a known fact that he was no more a hunter than his owner was a rich plantation owner. But the two were inseparable, and sometimes Kitty thought they could even communicate with each other.

  His bearded face looked weary, even from a distance, and Kitty warmed with affection at the sight of his lanky body plodding through the knee-high weeds. They had always been closer than most fathers and daughters, and this had come about because Lena had always been on the sickly side, spending days and weeks in bed, complaining with first one ailment, then another. As a child, Kitty’s playing had made her nervous, and since Lena objected to her playing with the children of the few slaves on the farm, she was only too glad for John to take their daughter with him. It was many years later that she realized Kitty was hunting and riding and fishing like a man, and she was upset over the discovery.

  Accused of trying to make a son out of his daughter, John laughingly spoofed at Lena’s scorn. That was when she began to spend time with Kitty for the first time in her life, insisting that she learn the socially acceptable talents for a young lady of the day—sewing, tatting, recitation—all of which Kitty detested and rebelled against.

  A closeness had developed between John Wright and his daughter that could not easily be dissolved. To pacify his wife, John urged Kitty to allow herself to be taught feminine “qualities”, and Kitty gave in, all the while yearning to be with her father instead. She loved the farm, loved working with the animals and being outdoors in the fresh air and sunshine. The sewing, tatting, weaving, and sitting with hands folded primly in her lap while her mother read poetry—these were the times she hated, loathed, and despised.

  And as she watched the approach of her father, Kitty wondered anxiously how he was going to react to Nathan’s declaration of his intentions to become a suitor. She’d heard him speak often of Nathan’s father, Aaron Collins, and how he owned many slaves and allowed his overseer, Luke Tate, to treat them mercilessly. She feared that he was not going to approve, and he would be completely opposed to her being in the company of a man like Weldon Edwards who was fighting for the secession of North Carolina.

  John was halfway across the field when Jacob came out of the barn, waving excitedly. He turned in that direction, and Kitty ached to join them, but apprehension over the discussion that was to come held her back. He wouldn’t forbid her to go. That was not his way. He would tell her the decision was hers. But, loving him as she did, respecting him as she did—all it would take for her to abandon thoughts of the party would be to see a flash of anger, or hurt, in his eyes. The question of Nathan was another matter, and this made her feel a bit guilty, for the way she felt about Nathan…well, that was something altogether different. New emotions were rippling though her body now.

  Lena had gone into the bedroom and returned to dip a cloth once more into the bucket of water that sat on the table. Wringing it, she pressed it to her forehead, sighing, “If I could only get rid of this wretched headache. I’ve had it ever since that horribly embarrassing scene in the barn. You and that cow!” She shuddered.

  “Have you seen your father? I intend to talk to him about the way you acted in front of Nathan this afternoon.” She stared at Kitty scornfully. “The very idea! I hope he gives you the sound thrashing you deserve, young lady.”

  Sinking down on the bench that ran alongside the long, wooden table, Lena continued her angry glare. Kitty’s thoughts drifted as she tried to blot out the sounds of the nagging. Her father had made that table when he was but a young man, filled with visions of one day seating his many children along each side, himself at the head.

  Her eyes moved about the room. A crude wooden box sat beside the fireplace, where a pot boiled with the night’s stew of fish and potatoes and fresh eggs. The kitchen floor was clay. John never got around to putting in planks. With a chopping block to one side, a few wooden shelves, the room was dismal and bleak.

  Suddenly Lena pounded both her fists on the table. Kitty jumped, startled.

  “Are you going to tell me why Nathan came here? When you ignore me, Katherine, you make this pain in my head worse. Why won’t you tell me? You’re acting very strangely…”

  Kitty continued to stare out the window in the direction of the barn, where her father had disappeared with Jacob.

  “Katherine!” the voice rose hysterically. “Why do you treat me this way? Why do you hate me so? Why do you try to shut me out of your life? I love you. You’re my only child. I only want you to be happy. Dear God, what have I ever done to deserve such scorn and disrespect from my own flesh and blood? Will you just tell me what I ever did to you for you to treat me this way?”

  Kitty knew only too well what was coming if she didn’t tell her mother what she wanted to know. She would start to cry, and then she might have one of her screaming tantrums, and all of them would be in for a miserable evening. It could go on for days.

  Sighing, she turned and looked at the red-faced woman. “He invited me to a party next Sunday afternoon, Mother,” she said quietly, feeling disgust, mingled with pity, over the way her mother instantly calmed herself.

  Lena’s face spread into one huge grin. Her face was thin and gaunt, made even more so by her hair being pulled back from her face and wrapped in a bun at her neck. Her eyes were sharp—narrow,
but she was not an unattractive woman. If she didn’t cry so much, Kitty thought suddenly, perhaps there would not be so many wrinkles. Like now, when she was smiling, Kitty mused, she was almost pretty, and the wrinkles did not matter so much.

  “Oh, Katherine, this is wonderful. Nathan comes from a fine family. Aaron Collins is one of the richest men in the state. This must mean he wants to court you. Think how wonderful that would be! Oh, I hope you didn’t scare him off by letting him see you wallowing beneath that cow in all that blood and straw and dirt.”

  She was like a delighted child, Kitty thought, watching her pat her hands together gleefully.

  “Maybe you didn’t run him off, after all. He did ask you to go to the party with him after he saw you with that old cow. You’ll just have to put your best foot forward at that party and make him glad he invited you, let him know you appreciate the chance to show him you aren’t some white trash farmhand.”

  “I have to talk to Poppa first.”

  “What do you want to talk to him about?” Her eyes widened with surprise. “I should think you would realize by now that you’ve spent far too much time talking and listening to him instead of me. What does he have to do with any of this?”

  Kitty realized she could not tell the complete truth, because if her father did object once he knew who the party was being given for, and she decided not to go, then it would only make her mother angry, and she would place the blame on John. No, she thought, it’s best to leave out the name of the guest of honor.

  “I don’t have a dress to wear to a party.”

  “Is that all that’s bothering you?” Lena leaped to her feet, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the bedroom. “There’s something in my trunk that I’ve saved all these years, if the moths haven’t ruined it. A few repairs will put it in good shape, though.”

  Lena dropped her hand once they were inside the bedroom, then she hurried to a far corner where, beneath a pile of homemade quilts, the trunk was concealed. She fumbled with the top, and it finally opened with a reluctant squeak.