Though his words were quiet, the emotion behind them made them so powerful chills raced up her arms. From the conviction in his tone, she could tell that arguing would be a waste of time. Besides, how could she when he sounded so gallant? Then there was the scathing memory of the Reb soldier knocking her to the ground, unbuckling his belt…
“All right, but promise to tell me if it gets too much. No need to be overly manly,” she whispered.
“I promise.” His feather-light breath upon her cheek was just enough to make her wish it were a caress.
Silently chiding herself, she marched on beside him through the dark forest. Every now and then, they came close enough to see the beaten down road the Union army had left in its wake while returning to Harrison’s Landing. The hours ticked by and Sean never slowed his brisk walk. Ashlinn’s calves and back soon burned from stepping over fallen branches and ducking beneath low-hanging ones. Her breeches and coat had snagged on bushes more times than she could count. That road was so tempting the sight of it made her ache.
Just when she feared she couldn’t take the temptation any longer, Sean guided them out onto the road. Moonlight bathed the swath cut through the countryside, making it look like a ghostly river. A glance up revealed clouds retreating. She tugged gently against his hand.
“Do you really think ’tis safe?” She didn’t want to doubt him, but she feared the pain might be getting the better of him since he had been denying it for the last few hours.
“Aye, ’tis just around the next bend. Besides, they have seen us, and we do not want to give them any reason to shoot.” He indicated the path before them with a lift of his chin.
Her feet were already upon the road by the time the second sentence left his mouth. She halted in midstride, alarm coursing through her. Sean straightened and pulled her close to his side. Next to them, Cliste began to growl low and quiet, not a menacing sound so much as a warning.
“That ’tis far enough. Yer name and rank, soldier,” boomed a voice from the trees on the other side of the road.
Sean stepped between her and the voice. “Corporal Sean MacBranain,” he announced in an equally loud voice.
“Who’s with you?” came the man’s voice from the trees again.
“The nurse who saved my life.” His hand tightened around hers as he said the words.
Quiet as a ghost, a shadow stepped out of the bushes, making her tense up. Another set of boots sounded behind them. Cliste’s growl grew louder, throaty with warning. She had never even known they were there.
Upon seeing the Union blue uniforms Ashlinn let out a breath. “’Tis all right, Cliste,” she said, one hand patting the hound’s head.
“MacBranain! Bloody hell man, we thought you were dead for sure,” came a different voice from behind them.
Ashlinn turned to see a tall, broad soldier approaching, musket lowered, a wide grin lifting his shortly trimmed mustache into cheeks that sported at least a week-long shadow. He paused, eyes going to Cliste. She continued to pet the hound’s head in a soothing motion. Slowly, the hair along Cliste’s back lay back down. Steering wide of her, the soldier approached Sean.
“Good lord, man. ’Tis that a bear or a dog?” the soldier asked in a deep voice, eyes on Cliste. His accent suggested he was Irish, but his height suggested something else.
Sean laughed. “’Tis an Irish wolfhound. She also helped save me life.”
A grunt of pain expelled from him as the man embraced him. The beginnings of a growl rumbled through Cliste again.
“I would have been dead for sure if it were not for this one here,” he said when the man let him go.
The tall man looked Ashlinn over, not in the leering way some soldiers did, but as if he was impressed with her. Then again, that could be due in part to her being clad in men’s clothing with her hair all done up beneath her cap. “Thank you, lass. You have saved a good man here, you have.”
The attention shifted back to Sean as the other two men exchanged greetings with him. Pushed to the side, Ashlinn had to fight back a pang of loss. She didn’t want to part ways with Sean. For the first time since this blasted war, she hadn’t felt so alone. The thought stirred the beginnings of panic within her. She didn’t want to allow herself to get close to anyone ever again, not after what happened to her brothers. As if sensing her thoughts, Cliste pressed against her side, her wet nose finding its way into Ashlinn’s palm.
“We best get you back to camp. The lieutenant will be thrilled to know there is another survivor,” the tall soldier said.
The man turned him toward the direction of Harrison’s Landing, leaving Ashlinn forgotten in the background. Even the second soldier, who began to melt back into the forest, didn’t spare her a glance. Such was the treatment of medical folk, especially a woman disguised as a male nurse. Despite being used to it, it stung this time. Part of her ached at watching Sean walk away, a part she very much wanted to deny. The logical part of her knew it was for the best, so she let him walk on ahead. Attachments were more dangerous than bullets in this war.
He stopped, turned, and reached back for her hand. “Ashlinn,” he called back to her.
At the sound of that gentle voice, she knew with a sinking certainty. There was no denying it. Already she had become attached to this soldier in a way she’d never allowed herself to become attached before. But she would resist it with everything she had in her. She had to. This man, like so many others, would likely end up just like her brothers. Dead or missing. Yes, she would resist. Tomorrow. Accepting his hand, she realized she would fight the most onerous of doctors to remain at his side and ensure his recovery. But that was all. Once he was better she would keep her distance.
Chapter 7
As they walked through the muddy pathways between soldier tents toward the hospital tent, Sean clung tighter to Ashlinn’s hand. Her circulation had to be suffering for it, he knew, yet he couldn’t loosen his grip. The care she had taken with him and his wounds was above and beyond what most doctors—and certainly any nurses—could or would have done. Though he was on the road to recovery, his fever last night had proven he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He didn’t want anyone else treating him. One stolen glance at her and he knew it had more to do with not wanting to be away from her than it did with not wanting someone else to treat him.
The rational part of his mind tried to convince him that forming any type of attachment was a bad idea. People only ended up either disappointed by him, or disappointing him in the end. Those that didn’t more often ended up dying during this blasted war. This woman had saved his life as surely as any of the soldiers he trusted at his back and, like them, he felt a bond with her that was unbreakable because of it.
Soldiers began to call out greetings to not only him now, but Ashlinn and Cliste as well, mostly Cliste. Eyes big and round, Cliste looked up at Ashlinn, tail wagging. Laughter bubbled from Ashlinn like water over rocks. The sound sent a warmth spreading through Sean that helped banish some of the pain.
Ashlinn leaned down, almost eye level with the hound. “Go on then, you beggar. But do not beg from those who cannot afford to give.”
Tail increasing its velocity until Sean couldn’t believe the dog didn’t topple over, Cliste bounded off amidst the tents. Eyebrows rising, he turned to Ashlinn.
“The soldiers know her?” he asked.
“Many of them. I almost never have to feed her she is so good at begging.” The joy in her voice made him smile.
For a moment, he wondered how he had never seen Cliste before, or heard the soldiers speak of her. Then his gaze drew out to the row after row of tents that dotted the transformed plantation like ants in formation. His tent sat acres away,