Ashes in the Wind Read Online Free Page B

full bosom, and responded in the gallant fashion of a gentleman, clicking his heels as he bowed. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Craighugh.”
    Roberta’s mother was French, and that amorous blood now rose under the manly perusal of this handsome Yankee officer. The war had curtailed many of the pleasures in her life, and she was approaching the spinsterish age of twenty-two. She had become convinced that without male companionship a girl could waste away to nothing. It seemed like ages had passed since she last received a gentleman caller, and she was hopelessly bored with her existence. But her spirits steadily revived as her prospects of making another conquest loomed brighter. What made it more intriguing was that he was in the ranks of the forbidden harvest, the hated Yankees.
    “I can’t say I’ve entertained too many Northern soldiers, Captain,” she stated brightly. “I’ve heard so many disturbin’ stories about y’all. Still”—she nibbled pensively at her fingertip— “y’all don’t look like the sort of man who would go about the countryside frightening poor, defenseless women.”
    White teeth gleamed in a reckless smile as Cole responded. “I try hard not to, ma’m.”
    Roberta blushed with excitement, and her thoughts ran rampant. He seemed far more manly and self-assured than those silly boys who had feverishly plied her with proposals before marching off to war for the Confederacy. She had found no challenge in winning their hearts, but this Yankee might prove better sport.
    As if suddenly reminded of her cousin, Roberta faced him. “Al, why don’t you run along in. Dulcie will be glad to see you, I’m sure.”
    Dismissed but reluctant to go, Al glanced worriedly from his cousin to the Yankee. Al had seenthat certain look come into Roberta’s eyes before on prior visits and he knew it boded ill for himself, if not for the captain. To have the enemy pay court to Roberta was like looking down the wrong end of a rifle. He’d just as soon not be on the dangerous end when it went off.
    Wiping a grubby hand on his dingy trousers, Al extended it toward the man. “Thank ya kindly for the ride, Cap’n. I ‘spect you can find your own way back jes’ fine.” Al nodded toward the sun shining through the trees. “Looks a bit like rain, though. Guess you’d best be gettin’ back befo’—”
    “Nonsense, Al,” interrupted Roberta. “The least we can do is repay this nice gentleman for his kindness. I’m sure he would enjoy some refreshments after that long, hot ride.” She smiled warmly at Cole. “Won’t y’all come inside where it’s cooler, Captain?” Ignoring her cousin’s distress, she opened the door wider and beckoned sweetly, “This way, Captain.”
    Al stared after the two as they entered the house, his teeth clenched in rage, his gray eyes flaring. He hefted the heavy case and wrestled it through the door, but in the process banged his elbow and mumbled several words the captain would not have approved of had he heard. Fortunately, that one’s attention was well occupied as Roberta led him into the sparsely furnished parlor.
    “You must forgive the appearance of this room, Captain. Before the war it was much more grand.” Demurely she spread her wide, hooped skirts before Cole’s chair and perched with ladylike poise on the edge of the faded silk settee. “Why, my father has been left with only a little bitty store to make endsmeet after we had so much. And who can afford to pay such exorbitant prices as he must charge. Imagine paying a whole dollar for a bar of soap, and I grew so fond of Parisian scents. I can’t bear to even look at those rough ol’ cakes Dulcie makes.”
    “War seems to get the best of everybody, ma’m,” Cole commented with irony.
    “The war wasn’t so hard to bear until that dreadful General Butler descended upon us. Excuse me for being blunt, Captain, but I hated that man.”
    “Most Southerners did, Miss