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  Now, she would wait and see.

  If Ian Saberton was the man she hoped he was, prayed he was, he’d take what she’d told him and find a way to help her. Or if by chance, she’d grossly misjudged his character, she still wouldn’t be any worse off than before. General Farris would still nip at her heels and look for ways to destroy her.

  Crossing Cherry Lane, Abby noticed a commotion in front of the Lambert House on the corner. Both of Penny Jo’s dogs barked in the yard with Eliza Jane standing between them, broom in hand and ready for battle.

  Abby picked up her pace and called to her from the front gate.

  Eliza Jane couldn’t hear her over the ruckus, but she pointed at the front window and yelled, “That crazy cat is loose in the parlor again.”

  Abby hurried up the steps to see if she could help.

  Elizabeth shooed the feline away from a tray of cheese and biscuits, scattered all over her cabbage rose rug. The nervous animal laid its ears back and hissed before clawing its way up the draperies.

  Elizabeth quickly lifted the baby to safety from where she wailed in her cradle next to the sofa. Snuggling the infant next to her chest, she called for Penny Jo to come tame her pet.

  Abby grabbed the fireplace poker, determined to steer the little troublemaker out the open window. Unfortunately, the dogs were making such a fuss under the window pane, the cat chose to hop a side table instead, knocking a brass oil lamp to the floor.

  Elizabeth took an audible gasp as it leapt to the high mantle where it crouched low beside one of her grandmother’s porcelain vases.

  “Penelope Jo.” Elizabeth’s voice was low and strained, trying not to further upset the baby. “Get that demented creature out of this house.”

  “He’s only scared.” Penny Jo whistled but the cat didn’t move. Moving around the fainting sofa, she held her arm up to the mantle. “It’s all right, Mr. Whiskers. I won’t let them hurt you.” She cooed softly until the cat allowed her to pull him down into her arms, nibbling at a tea biscuit in her hand. “See? He just wanted a snack.”

  Through the window, Abby could see Eliza Jane swatting at a dog playing tug-of-war with her skirt.

  “I don’t care what he wanted, this house is no place for barn cats.” Elizabeth motioned for Eliza Jane to come inside. “And I don’t intend to say it again. Now put that flea-bitten animal outside and get up to your room this instant.”

  “Yes’m.” Penny Jo left with her squirming companion, but not before making a face at Eliza Jane as she passed her in the doorway.

  “Mercy sakes. I don’t know how many times I’ve told that child not to bring home stray animals.” Elizabeth handed the baby over to Eliza Jane and hitched her skirt to kneel beside Abby who was busy picking up scattered food off the rug. “One day I half expect to come home to a grizzly bear sitting at my dining table.”

  “Penny Jo’s hardly a child anymore, Mama.” Eliza Jane took the baby over to a rocking chair. “She’s nearly ten. High time she stop acting like a boy and start actin’ like a lady.”

  “She’s still my baby.” Elizabeth returned to her chair and jabbed a needle into her tapestry with an impatient hand. “You’ll understand one day. It doesn’t hurt a thing to let her enjoy her childhood while she still can.”

  Penny Jo was the last of the Lambert children to grow up and move on. Being a nurturer at heart, Elizabeth was determined to hang on to her little girl for as long as she could.

  A grandchild would certainly help ease that void. Abby watched Eliza Jane talking to the baby with tiny fingers curled around her own.

  Eliza Jane glanced up and caught Abby’s eye. “Mama, did you know I saw Abby and that new colonel down at the creek a while back?”

  Abby threw her a shrewd look.

  “Alone.” Eliza Jane continued with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Just the two of them.”

  “How awfully observant of you.” Abby laid the poker aside and dusted off her hands. “Considering you probably had to push through a horde of soldiers, leap over three tables, and borrow Mable Lea’s spectacles to witness such a thing.”

  “Never you mind, I want to hear all about it.” The excited look on her face told Abby she was happy to have something scandalous to talk about. “Did he steal a kiss?”

  “Did he … No, of course not!” Abby felt her cheeks warm.

  “Who’s been kissing?” Penny Jo rejoined the group, scrunching her nose at the odd conversation.

  “Colonel Saberton.” Eliza Jane answered, rubbing the baby’s back. “And Abby.”

  “You’re horrible.” Abby pointed to her friend, who rocked slowly with wicked grin.

  “Well, if he didn’t, he should have.” Eliza Jane nestled the sweet head next to her cheek. “He missed a perfect opportunity.”

  “What, pray tell, went on in that thicket?” Elizabeth put down her needle and adopted her best mother’s face.

  As nice as it was to be cared for, Abby knew if Elizabeth suspected foul play, someone would answer for it. She’d be the first to inform Cora Dobbs and the Self-appointed Female Vigilantes would have them married by sundown.

  Abby wouldn’t let that happen. Ian had never been anything less than a gentleman.

  But she knew she’d have to give them something else to chew on or they wouldn’t let the matter drop. “I told him why General Farris has been doing his best to pin a spy charge on me.”

  “Penny Jo, I said go to your room.” Elizabeth snapped.

  “Aw, why can’t I stay? I never get to hear the good stuff.” The youngest whined as she flounced back out of the room.

  “And I better not catch you listening through the cracks either.” Elizabeth waited until she heard footsteps going down the hall. “Abby, dear, shut the door, and tell us everything.”

  Abby prepared herself for the endless questions to come.

  As soon as the pocket door was pulled into place, both women beckoned her to sit beside them, encouraging her to finish her story.

  “There’s really nothing to tell. I hadn’t planned on telling him, but it was apparent that Farris had already begun to fill his head with lies about me.” Abby brushed a burnished curl from her cheek. “Ian followed me because he wanted to know the truth. I appreciate that he came directly to me.”

  “Mama, can Hickory come over for supper?” Penny Jo called from the other side of the door.

  “Hush up, you goose, and get to your room.” Eliza Jane called back causing the baby to startle. “What else, Abby? You didn’t tell him the whole truth, did you?”

  Elizabeth laid aside her needlework. “Is there more you two haven’t told me?

  Abby had never told either of them everything there was to know about herself. Even Eliza Jane didn’t know her most guarded secrets.

  Some things she must never tell.

  “You told him the general propositioned you most inappropriately?” Elizabeth waved her fan to stir the warm afternoon air.

  “No. I didn’t mention that.” Abby glanced at the clock on the mantle. She had ten minutes to get back to the hospital.

  “And did you tell him you walloped Farris for it?” Eliza Jane asked.

  Abby shook her head. “No, I might have spared him that detail, too.” Moving toward the door, she decided to try and make a quick exit. “I’m due for my shift at five, so—”

  “You can’t just leave it at that.” Eliza Jane stood and laid the sleeping baby back in her cradle. “Finish your story.”

  “That’s about all there is to the story. Ian left me at the churchyard, and we went separate ways.”

  “Ian.” Eliza Jane nodded at her mother, who nodded back.

  Abby resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Don’t deny that you find him attractive.” Eliza Jane wasn’t going to let it rest.

  “He’s not repulsive.” Abby was finished with their questions.

  “No, he definitely is not.” Elizabeth set her tapestry in a sewing valise next to the sofa. “And I’ve seen
the way he watches you.”

  Nothing escaped Elizabeth’s notice.

  Just thinking about his intense gaze caused a twinge in Abby’s chest and a faint smile to cross her lips.

  Elizabeth came over to where Abby stood by the door and took her hand. “Dear, there’s no shame in admitting you’re attracted to a man. I know you’ve been left alone too many times to count in your life. But don’t be afraid to give your heart. When the right man comes along, you’ll be able to trust him with it. And he will cherish your gift and protect it with his life.”

  Eliza Jane nodded in solemn agreement.

  Abby felt as cornered as Penny Jo’s cat.

  They both expected her to make some grand confession but doing so would be pointless. Ian would never fall for a sworn enemy. Especially not one with Yankee ties that could tangle around his neck someday.

  Releasing a pent up breath, Abby decided to give them just enough to satisfy their curiosity and hopefully leave her be. “Yes, the colonel is very handsome. I enjoyed talking with him very much. But that’s all there is to it.”

  “Well, that’s just plain silly.” Eliza Jane was clearly put out that Abby wasn’t going to fess up. “And I don’t believe a word of it, Abby McFadden. No woman gives a man that much time in her day unless she’s at least a little interested.”

  “Eliza Jane, we mustn’t meddle.” Elizabeth came to her feet and smoothed her skirt. “Abby doesn’t owe us anything. She doesn’t have to admit her feelings for the man to us, or him, or anyone else.” The woman was an expert at casting guilt. “Granted, by the time she comes to her senses, he may be old and gray with a wife and fourteen grandbabies. But she absolutely has the right to deny it all day long.”

  This time, Abby did roll her eyes.

  “I cannot consent to place in the control of others

  one who cannot control himself.”

  ~ Robert E. Lee

  Eleven

  14 September, 1864

  Midmorning found Ian directing wagonloads of priceless cargo into storage sheds lined up behind the railroad depot. A constant procession of freight cars rolled in filled to capacity with furniture, family relics, and valuables from surrounding farms and plantations.

  Middle Georgia newspapers reported blasts of gunfire heard as far south as McDonough. Hordes of defenseless civilians fled the countryside in fear of Federal raids.

  The fall of Atlanta brought a sobering haze over Macon.

  Ian dispensed twenty-three companies into the eight counties surrounding the area to bring in as many refugees as would come to seek shelter in the city. The trains began to arrive a week ago, teeming with anxious residents. While Macon’s good citizens took in relatives and acquaintances, tents were set up to house those who could not secure rooms at a hotel.

  “Colonel, a message for you from Mayor Dobbs, Sir.” A young courier stood on the other side of a pack of mules being led to the stables by one of Ian’s horsemen.

  Fitz, logging inventory at Ian’s side, shook his head. “We’re a little busy here, Son.” Lowering his voice to a mutter that only Ian could hear, he added, “tell ol’ mutton chops you’ll see him at election time.”

  As always, Ian chose to ignore Fitz’s commentary, reaching for the sealed envelope. His aide de camp was too useful to cite him for insubordination every time he opened his mouth.

  A grin spread across Ian’s face as he read the short message.

  “They’re bringing in a new commanding officer. Fitz, keep the men busy filling warehouses until I return.”

  Not waiting for a surly reply, Ian took up his jacket and began to roll down his sleeves. This was what he’d been waiting for. As he approached his horse, he glanced down at the note one more time.

  Report to the Dobbs House at once.

  Governor has advised a change in command.

  General Hawthorne to replace General Farris.

  The Honorable Mayor Walter Dobbs

  Hopefully, Macon would be in better hands, and Abby could finally rest easier.

  The letter he’d sent to Georgia’s Governor Joseph Brown detailed the city’s susceptibilities. Now that the Union had broken through the Georgia lines, it was Ian’s opinion, and that of his commander, General Wheeler, that the Yankees would carry their campaign south.

  The city’s most glaring defect, Ian had advised, was the ham-fisted command of General Farris and the numerous threats he issued to his men and civilians alike on a daily basis.

  Morale was low within Farris’ camp. Ian observed no motivation among his troops to perform routine duties. Statements were documented, under the guarantee of anonymity, that food and basic necessities were withheld as petty punishment, dependent largely on the mood the general found himself in at any given moment.

  A high rate of desertion had been recorded, as well as an unthinkable number of Farris’ soldiers who had applied for exemption to escape another year of service.

  The citizens refused to heed his relentless orders. He seized property and dry goods at will, with no record for payback.

  Governor Brown had been a friend of the Sabertons long before his four terms as presiding officer of the state. A respectable attorney and conscientious statesman, Brown was one of Nicholas Saberton’s most trusted friends. Though not always popular, the family shared the governor’s middle of the road views.

  Nicholas had become a popular voice at the Governor’s mansion as he stood against secession with Brown, and many other governors over the southern states. They proposed to let the process of democracy strengthen the laws and ultimately weed out the greed and injustices that split the country.

  Ultimately, to no avail.

  Governor Brown had expressed hopes that Nicholas would one day take a government position, but as far as Ian knew, his brother had no political aspirations.

  On Ian’s suggestion, the governor had hopefully sent Farris back to the battlefields.

  From high in his saddle, Ian spotted Abby a block away in the wide yard of Floyd House Hospital. Under a sprawling oak, she helped a man stand from his wheelchair to sit on a granite bench. When she smiled up at the soldier, encouraging him to take a step, he gave it a try with no argument.

  Drawn by her compassion, Ian reined in. Sitting a minute, he watched her unnoticed.

  A white sling holding the man’s arm prevented him from holding a pen, so Abby knelt on the grass, primly tucking her skirt around her, and used the bench as a writing desk to write a letter as he dictated.

  To most the kind gesture would seem an unimportant detail. But to Ian, her selfless desire to serve the man with her full attention stirred him deeply.

  Abby pulled a thin shawl closer around her shoulders. The breeze had turned cold. Still, she smiled patiently, allowing the young soldier to unburden his heart into a letter back home.

  Nudging his horse, he continued on.

  Hopefully, in this new change of command, Abby would find relief from Farris’ constant harassment, and maybe even receive the documents she needed to get back home.

  The intensity of that thought caught him off guard.

  He didn’t want to think about never seeing Abby again. Truth was, he enjoyed her company. He’d sorely miss their evening strolls as they walked over to Harbor House for dinner each evening.

  The way she smoothed her hair away from her face as she spoke so adamantly about the orphans. The way she smiled, just barely but honestly, if her hand accidently brushed against his. So many things he would miss about Abby McFadden.

  Still, he’d let her go, just the same.

  The war stripped him of any misconceptions he’d had about love. He simply wasn’t capable of giving love the way Abby deserved. She should be free to go back home to Ohio. Marry herself a doctor, or attorney, or some ruddy-nosed cleric destined to be a saint someday.

  His mood had soured by the time he pulled up to the group of horses gathered in the road out front of the Dobbs House. Ian dismounted and took the steps two at a time.<
br />
  As soon as he removed his hat in the hallway, he heard a heated conversation coming from the back dining area where Farris had set up office.

  “This is outrageous! I will not be sequestered away to guard Yankee vermin while your bother-in-law steps in to take credit for everything I’ve worked for here in Macon.” By the time Ian walked into the room, Farris was in a red-faced rage. The mayor beckoned him to join them. “And if I find out you’ve had anything to do with this Saberton, I’ll—.”

  “Hold your tongue, Farris.” Another general stood at the mayor’s right with his assistant taking meticulous notes at the table. “I’d be careful about further incriminating yourself with slander. These minutes will be sent to the Secretary of War for permanent record.”

  Farris’s jaw slammed shut, and he fell hard into his seat.

  “Colonel Ian Saberton, meet General George Hawthorne.” Quick with the introductions, Dobbs ignored Farris’ scowl. “George is our new commanding officer in charge of overseeing Macon.”

  “General.” Ian gave an easy salute which was immediately returned.

  “Meet Cora Dobbs’ brother.” Farris crossed his arms over his protruding belly.

  “George has led his men through many a victorious battle throughout the Eastern theater. A general most worthy of our respect.” Mayor Dobbs sat at the other end of the table from Farris. “It took some convincing, but George finally agreed to come home to Macon.”

  General Hawthorne sat next to his aide. “Have a seat, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Ian removed his gloves and pulled out a chair across from Hawthorne.

  “I’m sure General Wheeler has you busy with special missions, so I won’t keep you.” It wasn’t hard to detect family similarities between Hawthorne and Cora Dobbs. Their no-nonsense manner and prominent brow mirrored one another. “I’ve heard glowing reports of Saberton’s Cavalry. Fast and elusive. Expert trackers with all the courage and bravery of young lions.”