Nate helped Remington down the stairs that afternoon, pausing several times to allow him to catch his breath. Nate saw him into the sitting room, where Remington sat down gratefully, aware that Laura's nieces and nephew were sitting on the opposite settee with their Aunt Mildred, watching him.
"You're looking much better, Mr. Steele," Mildred declared.
"At the moment, Mrs. Krebs, I find myself wishing for my bed again," he told her, looking around the room, unable to keep from noticing that the air of the room - indeed, the entire house - was one of deprivation borne of war. The wallpaper was stained and peeling, and while the woodwork was polished, it was obvious that it needed a good sanding.
But while the environs might be shabby and drab, the ambiance was warm and welcoming. Mostly, he amended as Laura's sister entered the room with her mother. She was still glaring at him, looking as if she feared that he might at any moment pull out a pistol and kill them all without warning.
"I wonder what could be keeping Laura?" Frances Piper asked. "She usually takes little time to dress for dinner these days."
"Perhaps she has more reason to do so now, Frances," Mildred suggested, giving Remington a knowing smile.
"I'm not sure how young Daniel manages, surrounded with such examples of beauty," Remington replied, winking in the young man's direction. Daniel grinned in reply, ducking his head as his mother lifted an eyebrow in disapproval.
"You might have managed to charm the other women in my family, Mr. Steele, but I am not so easily swayed by a flowery phrase."
"You'll understand when you meet her husband," Mildred suggested, ignoring her eldest niece's gasp of consternation. "Truly, Frances. Donald is a wonderful man, but has no imagination, no romance in his soul."
"That is blatantly untrue, Aunt," Frances declared. "And I will not have you speaking in that fashion about my children's father."
Before she could say more, Laura appeared in the doorway, wearing what Remington could only guess to be a gown that she hadn't worn in some time. He rose slowly to his feet as she entered the room, stopping before him, looking decidedly nervous.
Remington took her hand and bowed over it, aware of the watchful gazes of her family on them. "You look lovely, Miss Holt," he declared, his blue eyes meeting her dark ones. "Truly like an angel."
"Thank you," she said. "I haven't worn this since before the war began."
"A pity. But I'm pleased that you chose to wear it this evening."
Nate appeared behind Laura. "Dinner's ready," he announced.
Since he was standing closest to Laura, Remington extended his good arm. "May I?" he asked, and was rewarded when she placed her hand on his arm.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Dinner was simple fare, and Remington noticed that Laura took small portions, perhaps insuring that everyone else had enough - especially the children. After the meal, he, Laura, and her aunt returned to the sitting room.
Mildred picked up some needlework and sat down near the front window that overlooked the front porch. "Pay me no mind," she told them. "The only reason that I'm here is to keep Laura's mother or sister from worrying."
"Aunt Mildred," Laura said with a sigh.
"Thank you," Remington said.
Mildred gave him a smile. "I'm not so old that I can't recall what it was like when I first met my late husband. *Our* chaperone was my great aunt Harriet." She repressed a shudder. "Aunt Harriet required that I sit on one side of the room and Martin sit on the other, with her in the middle. We were lucky that we fell in love at our first meeting else we would probably never have married. It's a lovely evening," she told them. "If I were you, I should spend a few moments in the fresh air." She laughed softly as she turned her attention to the needlework in her hands, leaving Remington and Laura 'alone'.
Remington held out his arm to Laura again, and led her out of the room and to the front porch, seeing her seated in a chair while he moved to the rail to look out over the rapidly darkening countryside. "This is a lovely view," he told her.
"Yes," she agreed. "I never tire of it. There are so many memories -" she nodded toward a huge oak tree. "Laurence and I used to climb that tree - until the day I climbed higher than he and Mother was so terrified by the idea of her daughter climbing trees that she forbade me to do it again."
Remington turned to look at her. "I have never known anyone like you," he told her. "Your courage, bravery - holding your family together while your father and brother-in-law are away - no woman of my previous acquaintance would ever measure up to your standard."
"I only do that which I must," she told him. "There is no one else who *can* do it. Aunt Mildred, perhaps, were she a few years younger."
"What happened to your other s-" he paused, uncertain for a moment. "Servants?"
"They left to fight the war," she told him. "With my blessing. As I explained before, Nate and Letty are not slaves, Mr. Steele, no matter what you may have heard in England, not all of us agree with such practices. Nate and Letty remained because they had no other place to go."
Remington nodded in understanding. "Letty mentioned having known you since you were born?"
"She came here with Mother when she and father were married," Laura explained. "A year later, she married Nate. Their only child died of the fever twenty years ago," she said sadly.
Remington turned to study her. "I shouldn't stay," he decided, and immediately regretted the words as he saw her shocked expression. "You've barely enough food as it is without out having to stretch it for one more person. I noticed this evening that you didn't eat -"
"I ate," Laura insisted, but Remington shook his head.
"A few bites. You were more concerned about the children having enough."
"There will be more tomorrow," Laura said quietly. "Besides which, you are not nearly well enough to consider traveling."
"Laura, if I go farther West - I've heard that a man can make a decent living trapping furs and the like -"
"And being killed by Indians and wild animals," Laura finished. She rose from the chair. "But if that is what you would prefer than to remain here, I cannot stop you. I have no hold -"
Remington reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her close. "Yes. You do. But I fear that it would not be fair to for me to stay here and put a further drain on the resources that you need for your family. If I had access to my inheritance -"
Laura pulled away from him. "Why is it that men feel that money is so important?" she wanted to know. "It is not just as important to be happy? To know that one is l -loved and - that people care about him?"
Remington moved to stand behind her, carefully placing his hands on her upper arms. "It is important," he agreed. "But there things that a man must do -"
She turned quickly to look at him. "I know. I have heard it before, Mr. Steele. I will not hear it again. If you wish to go, then go. But do not expect me to be here waiting for you should you decide to return." With those words, she left him standing on the porch alone to return to the house.
Remington ran his hand through his dark hair, moving back to stand at the railing. Hearing the door open, he glanced back to see Mildred Krebs joining him. "I suppose you heard," he said to her.
"How could I not?" she questioned. She placed a hand on his good arm. "Do not judge her too harshly, Mr. Steele."
"I would never do that," he assured her. "I have never met anyone like her."
Mildred stood there for a moment, looking out into the darkness before speaking. "Six years ago, Laura planned to marry a young man by the name of Jonathan Smallwood."
"She was betrothed?"
"There was never anything official - Mr. Smallwood was a pauper, with nothing of his own, and too much pride to take what my brother offered him - and he refused to ask for my niece's hand until he felt he was worthy of her." Remington's gaze fell to her hand on his sleeve, hearing an all too familiar story. "Mr. Smallwood made the decision to go west, seeking his fortune. Two years later, Laura received word that he had been killed by a wild animal."
Remembering Laura's mentioning that possibility, Remington's eyes closed in sympathy. "Dear Lord."
"Ever since then, her mother has despaired of Laura ever finding someone. She's shown no interest in sharing her life with anyone other than her family - until your arrival, that is."
"I doubt there are many eligible men about at any rate," Remington pointed out.
"You would be wrong. Mr. Overbridge, who owns another plantation to the north would marry her in a moment - but she says that he only wants a mother for this three children, not a wife, as well as the dowry she would bring to a marriage. His plantation borders this one. My brother has made it known that anyone who marries his younger daughter would receive a portion of the plantation if he so wishes. Of course, it will probably go to her husband in its entirety now that Laurence is no longer with us."
"I will not marry any woman simply to gain her property, Mrs. Krebs," Remington insisted. "If I had wanted that, I could have remained in England."
"I have no doubt that is true," she told him, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "But none of those women were my niece," she pointed out. "I beg you, do not allow you misplaced pride to keep you from being happy."
Remington covered her hand with his, lifting it to his lips. "I assure you, good lady, I shan't."
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Upstairs, Laura stripped out of her brocade gown, tossing it aside angrily as she promised herself that she would never wear it again. Throwing herself at Mr. Steele had not been a good idea, obviously.
Opening the armoire against the wall, she pulled out the trousers, shirt, and jacket that she wore for her forays into the countryside and turned her thoughts toward the night ahead and what she needed to accomplish.
If Remington Steele wanted to leave, then he was free to do so, free of any and all encumbrances, she decided, twisting her hair up onto her head before covering it with the wide-brimmed hat.
She waited until she heard Aunt Mildred and Mr. Steele slowly come up the stairs, pausing occasionally, even though he insisted he was quite all right.
Opening her door, she peered into the hallway, making sure that the coast was clear before taking the stairs down and into the kitchen, where Nate and Letty were waiting for her. "Mr. Steele's horse is ready in the courtyard, Miss Laura," Nate told her, clearly not happy with her decision to go out. He handed her a loaded pistol. "I would feel better if I was going with you."
"You're too easily recognized, Nate," Laura explained once again. "I'll be careful," she assured them. "Mr. Steele just returned to his room a moment again, Letty. He no doubt needs his bandage seen to."
"I was on my way to do that, Miss Laura," Letty assured her. "He's doing well. Has a strong constitution."
"He's a good man," Nate declared.
"I have to go," Laura decided, having heard enough about their guest, and stalked out of the kitchen door. The bay that Mr. Steele had ridden in on was saddled and waiting, just as Nate had said, and Laura led him over to a mounting block and got onto the animal's back.
Nate came from the house to look up at her. "Are you okay, Miss Laura?" he asked.
She smiled at him. "I'm fine, Nate," she promised.
"I'd steer clear of anyone else tonight. I heard tell of Mr. Grayson sending his men round about, stopping anyone on the roads."
"Then I will simply avoid the roads," Laura nodded as he tied the burlap bags she would use to transport whatever she found back to the house to the back of the saddle.
"And keep that pistol handy. Miss Abigail would flay me alive if something was to happen to you."
"Well, then, I have a good reason to return, don't I?" she questioned, taking the reins in her hands and turning the horse around. "Get some sleep, Nate."
"I doubt I will, Miss Laura. I never do when you're out like this."
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Upstairs, Remington stood at the window after Letty finished re-bandaging his wound, frowning as he saw someone riding a horse away from the house. "Letty," he said as she picked up the debris from her work, "who is that?"
The woman came to the window. "Oh. It's not your concern, Mr. Steele."
"That's the young man I saw on the night I arrived," he told her. "And he appears to be on the horse I rode in on. I haven't seen him - he wasn't at dinner."
Letty turned back to what she'd been doing. "Mr. Steele - if Miss Laura were to find out that I'd told you -"
Remington glanced from Letty back to the window - "Good Lord. It's her, isn't it? That's Laura out there, dressed as a - What reason -"
Letty sat down on a chair. "She goes out every week, Mr. Steele. It's the only way we've been able to survive here since things got so bad. She scavenges for supplies, food - whatever she can find to bring back."
"Alone?"
"She insists that she's safe, dressed as she is, and that Nate would only draw attention to her. But the Loyalists have been patrolling of late, and he's concerned that she might be captured."
Remington went to the hautboy and found a clean shirt. "Is there a second horse?"
"Yes, but - Mr. Steele, what are you doing?" she asked, watching with wide eyes as he put on the shirt.
"Going after her. I'll need a horse - and a pistol -"
"Mr. Steele, you're in no condition to be riding anywhere -"
"Then I shall follow her on foot if necessary -"
"You don't know the area -"
"No, but I know the direction she was heading - and I'm sure Nate will be able to inform me as to her most likely destination." He found a dark coat and turned to look at her. "The longer we argue, the more danger she might be in, Letty."
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"She'll be keeping off the roads, sir," Nate told him a few minutes later as he led the other horse out of the barn. Remington gave the animal an uncertain look.
"I understand now why she chose to use my horse."
"This one's old, sir, but he's got a lot of life left in him. Miss Laura admires good horseflesh. That bay of yours is younger and better trained for what she's doing."
Remington nodded sharply as he used the mounting block to get into the saddle. No sense in putting more stress on the shoulder than necessary, he decided. "She'll head due east for a ways until she comes to the creek, then turn north. She'll be moving slowly to keep from making noise." Nate put a hand on the animal's neck. "Be careful, Mr. Steele. The loyalists have been out in numbers of late."
"I'll bring her back safely, Nate," Remington assured him, kicking the horse gently in the flanks, setting him into motion.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Laura slid from the bay's back and tied him to a tree, freeing several of the burlap bags. She crept cautiously toward the abandoned house, listening for any sign that it was being watched by the loyalists.
The house had belonged to the Mr. Connelly, who had, after the deaths of his son in the war and his wife of a broken heart at the loss, had abandoned his property to head west, leaving most of his belongings behind. He had stopped in and informed Laura about his decision, letting her know that she and anyone else in the area were welcome to anything in the house.
She was almost inside the house when she heard the sound of a twig breaking, and whirled, her hand on the pistol in her belt, only to find herself surrounded by several men.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Mr. Grayson asked, a sneer on his pockmarked face. "Do I know you, boy?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing.
"No," Laura answered, deepening the timbre of her voice as much as she dared. "I'm a stranger to the area."
"A thief is what you are," Neal Grayson declared. He was a younger version of his father, and had once asked to call on Laura. Thank goodness her father had refused the request, she thought now. "This is not your house."
"What's your name, lad?" one of the other men asked. Laura didn't recognize him.
She didn't answer the question as her hand moved toward the pistol again.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Remington saw the bay and stopped the plow-horse nearby, sliding from the saddle with a wince at the pain that went through his shoulder at the movement. He could hear voices up ahead, gruff, angry voices that sent a shiver of fear for Laura along his spine.
He crept toward the voices, using the brush and trees as cover, until he could see the men who were surrounding Laura. She was standing with her back against the door of the house she'd obviously been about to enter or just leaving, her mood clearly defiant.
Removing his pistol, Remington primed it, holding at ready. If they made a move toward her - He watched as Laura's hand moved toward the pistol that was tucked into the belt of her trousers. One of the men noticed her movement and the barrel of his weapon swung toward her as a warning.
"You'd better come with us, lad," the youngest of the four men said, reaching forward to grab her arm and pull her away from the house.
"No!" She pulled away, and the movement unseated the hat on her head.
As it fell to the ground, Laura's chestnut hair fell in waves on her shoulders, and the men stood there, stunned. "It's Lucius Holt's youngest daughter," the older man declared triumphantly. "Grab her. She'll come in handy as a means of convincing the Major to convince General Washington to give up."
"He will not do that," Laura declared, her defiance spilling out as she struggled against the hold of the younger man. "Release me, Mr. Grayson!" she insisted.
"I doubt he will stand by and allow you to become a victim of this insanity," the older man replied, reaching forward to pull her pistol away. To the other two men, he said, "Remain here on guard," before turning to young Grayson. "Bring her."
When Laura attempted to kick her captor in the shin, he simply lifted her over his shoulder, ignoring her fists against his back and angry voice. "Let me go!" she screamed at him.
If the situation had not been so dire, Remington might have found himself amused and proud of her bravery and determination to inflict as much pain on her captor as possible.
The two men who remained were laughing, and Remington picked up a rock, tossing it away from his location. The laughter stilled, and one of the men moved in the direction of the sound, leaving his companion alone.
Remington circled around and used the butt of his pistol to knock the man in the head and dragged him into the brush before his friend returned. Picking up the second pistol, Remington shoved it into his belt, and then waited for the second man to return, setting upon him in a similar fashion. Taking the third pistol, he checked both men's condition - knowing that he needed to finish them off if they were not to spread the alarm that Laura had been rescued by someone.
As it was, young Grayson and the other man would no doubt ride to the Holt Plantation at first light to take the house and family. Removing one of the men's knives from its scabbard, Remington closed his eyes in silent prayer before driving it into each man's chest directly over their hearts, killing them instantly.
Sickened by what he had just done, Remington wiped the blade on one of the men's shirts before turning to follow Laura and her captors.
"Let me go!" Laura was still screaming when he caught up to them once more. "My father will kill you *both* if something happens to me."
"Nothing's going to happen to you, girl," the older man assured her. "Except that you're going to marry my son."
Young Grayson's voice was surprised - and pleased. "That is an excellent idea, father," he agreed. "Once the war is ended, Holt will lose his property at any rate. And I think I shall enjoy having a wife -" he finished, slapping Laura's posterior, setting her to kicking and pounding at him again.
"Never!" she declared. "I shall kill myself before I allow you to lay a hand on me, Neal Grayson! I will never marry a Tory dog!"
"Have a care, Miss Holt," the elder Grayson warned as he paused and moved to look at her. "You're speaking of your future in-laws."
Laura spat at him, and Remington very nearly rushed them when the man swung his arm to cuff Laura in the head with his hand, leaving her unconscious.
But he held back, waiting for his chance. If he rushed both men now, there was a very good possibility that Laura would be hit by a stray pistol ball. His best plan of action was to wait for them to pause for a rest, at which point he hoped the younger Grayson would lower Laura to the ground.
"Tomorrow morning, I will send for the minister and have him perform the ceremony," the elder Grayson decided. "And then you and I will ride over to deliver the news to her mother and sister."
"With the addition of Major Holt's property, we will have the largest plantation in the valley, Father," Neal said.
"Aye. That we will, lad." He took a flask from his pocket and sat down on a fallen log. "I need to sit for a moment."
Remington knew that this was his chance. Slipping around to the back of the log, he waited, watching through the brush as Neal pulled Laura from his shoulder and laid her onto the leafy path. "Should I tie her up, do you think?" he wondered.
"I gave her a good smack," Grayson said, holding out the flask to his son. "I doubt she'll wake until near morning."
Neal took the flask and sat beside his father on the log. Remington ignored the growing pain in his shoulder as he gripped a pistol in each hand and moved in behind the two men. "Hands up, gentlemen," he said.
Neal's hand moved toward his pistol on the log as he turned around - and Remington fired the first of his rounds. Grayson paled as he saw his son thrown backward before falling to the ground, a gaping wound in his chest.
"Why you -!" Grayson yelled, turning and firing a shot as well - but Remington ducked behind a tree and then fired - the ball hitting the man square in the stomach.
Giving both men's bodies a wide berth, Remington moved to kneel beside Laura, touching her face. "Laura. Laura, wake up, my love. It's Remington."
She moaned, wincing at the likely pain in her head. "Remington?"
"Yes. Are you able to walk?"
"I don't -" she lifted her hand to his face, touching it. "Remington."
"Shh," he admonished, concerned that the sound of pistol fire might bring others. Remington assisted the groggy Laura onto her feet. When she saw the bodies of Grayson and his son, she looked up at him.
"What happened?"
"Later. I think the wisest move would be for us to return to the horses."
"Supplies," she insisted.
"Laura, there might be more of them," he worried as they moved away from the bodies, back toward the abandoned house. But he ended up returning to the house with her, gathering anything he could find to shove into the burlap bags that had still been laying on the ground before the door while Laura sat in a chair at the table, wincing at the slightest sound.
He managed - barely - to keep her from seeing the bodies of the first two men he'd killed, and they returned to the horses. Laura was too wobbly to ride back alone, so Remington tied the bags to the saddle of the dappled gelding while he held Laura before him in the saddle of the bay.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
By the time they reached the courtyard, Remington's shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and he was grateful when Nate met them to take Laura, who was finally beginning to come out of her dazed state and be more aware of what was happening around her.
"What happened, sir?" Nate asked as Remington threw a leg over the horse's neck and dropped to the ground, just barely managing to remain upright by hanging onto the animal. He followed Nate into the house, recounting the events of the night.
"I can walk, Nate," Laura insisted, but swayed slightly when he put her back onto her feet beside the kitchen table. She looked at Remington. "You saved my life."
He lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture - and immediately regretted the movement as the pain tore through the muscles. Laura's eyes flew to his before she pulled his dark jacket away to reveal the fresh blood on his shirt. "You're bleeding again!" she declared. "Nate, get Letty. I'll help him upstairs."
"I'm quite all right," Remington insisted, not wanting to lean on Laura after what she had been through. "Your head needs seen to -"
"My father has always said that I have a hard head," she told him, pulling his good arm across her shoulders and guiding him out of the kitchen and to the stairs.
"You were unconscious for some time," he reminded her. "And you are still unsteady on your feet -"
"I'm not the one who is bleeding," she countered, but swayed again as they started up the stairway.
Luckily Nate arrived before she could topple over, catching her up into his arms. "Go," Remington said quietly. "I'll be close behind." He continued on alone, moving toward the open doorway of Laura's room instead of his own.
A door nearby opened, and Mildred's head appeared. "What has happened?" she questioned.
"Laura was injured," he explained briefly, entering Laura's room at her side. Letty joined them immediately, fussing over Remington before he insisted that she make certain that Laura was all right. He sat down in a chair near the window, noticing the brocade gown that she had worn for dinner. It had been tossed onto the floor in anger, he guessed, and saw her aunt's gaze fall in that direction.
She moved to pick the gown up and placed it over the back of another chair as she moved to him. "What happened?" she asked in a quiet voice.
Remington sat there, his eyes on Laura's face, watching Letty place some smelling salts beneath Laura's nose. "She was captured by loyalists. A Mr. -Grayson and his son."
"That -" Mildred began, and then stopped, obviously recalling that she was a lady and ladies did not use the language she had been about to use. "How did you come to be with her?"
Remington quickly explained as Laura coughed and pushed Letty's hand away, sitting up in bed. Remington rose from the chair and went to the side of the bed. "Are you all right?" he wanted to know.
"I believe so," she answered. "Your shoulder -"
"I'll allow Letty to tend it in a moment," he assured her. "Once I know that you are well."
"Were there any others?" she asked him, taking his hands.
"No. None of them survived to spread the word."
"I'm sorry that you had to -"
"I would have killed ten times their number to keep you safe, Laura," he pledged, bringing her hands to his lips.
She gave him a smile. "I know. Thank you."
Remington swayed, and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed. "Forgive me. I -"
"Nate, take him back to his room. Letty -"
"Already on my way, Miss Laura," Letty promised as Nate carefully assisted Remington onto his feet and out of the room.
"There are supplies on the other horse," Remington recalled just before he slipped into the darkness that had been lying in wait for him.
"Remington!" Laura cried, starting to get out of bed. But Mildred quickly prevented the move as Nate easily lifted Remington into his arms and carried him toward his own room.
"Nate and Letty will tend to him," Mildred told the young woman. "You need to rest."
"I need to be with him, Aunt," Laura insisted.
"Not until you clean you and look presentable again," Mildred countered. "You resemble a stable boy more than you do a young lady concerned over the man she loves."
Before Laura could respond to the words, Abigail appeared in the doorway. "Something has happened," she said, seeing Laura on the bed. "Are you injured, Laura?"
"I am quite well, Mother," Laura assured her, surprised at her mother's apparent concern. "There was a problem this evening. If Rem- if Mr. Steele had not been nearby, I shudder to think about what might have happened."
"I knew it was not a good idea for you to go out in that fashion, Laura," Abigail began. "Is Mr. Steele -?"
"His wounds reopened," Mildred said in a crisp tone, going to retrieve a clean nightdress and other garments for her niece. "Letty is tending him in his room."
Abigail sat on the edge of her daughter's bed - something that Laura could not recall her doing since Laura had been a very young child. "You are certain that you're well?"
"Just a bit unsteady on my feet. Mr. Grayson and his son thought to hold me as ransom against Father."
"Then we owe Mr. Steele a debt of gratitude," Abigail agreed, touching Laura's face. "You are in love with him, aren't you, dear?"
"Yes," Laura answered without hesitation. "I apologize if that upsets you, Mother, but I hope that he will remain here and that we will be married."
Abigail smiled. "Then you shall be," she declared, leaning forward to embrace Laura before rising from the side of the bed. "I'm going to look in on Mr. Steele before returning to bed. Get some rest, Laura. Tomorrow, we are going to have a long discussion about your forays into the countryside. There must be some other way for us to survive until this terrible war is over and your father returns. Good night, Mildred."
"Abigail," Mildred said in response, staring after her sister-in-law even after the door closed behind her. "It would appear that your mother is not as slow-witted as I have always believed her to be," she told Laura.
Laura smiled, but said, "Aunt Mildred. Shame on you."
Mildred's smile grew as she poured some water from a pitcher into a basin. "Let's clean some of that grime from your face and arms, shall we?"
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
When Remington came around, he found himself looking into Letty's dark eyes. "You are a very lucky man, Mr. Steele," she informed him as she worked on binding his wound once again. "It could have been much worse. I re-stitched the wounds, and you'll be weak from the blood loss for a day or so, but I do not believe you will be the worse for your adventure."
"There was no other choice, Letty," he told her, glancing toward the window, where he could see the sun rising over the distant hills. "If I had not gone after her -"
"Was Mr. Grayson truly planning to wed her to his son?" Letty questioned.
Remington nodded. "And then he intended to claim this plantation as his own."
"Neal Grayson is not a man," Letty said, ignoring the glare of warning that her husband sent in her direction as he stood nearby. "You know I'm telling the truth, Nate Johnson. How many times has his father paid off some poor farmer for what Neal did to his daughter? Not to mention all the servants and slaves who weren't safe with him walking around. Whatever you did to him, Mr. Steele, it was deserved."
"Death is never deserved, Letty," Remington sighed, lying back onto the pillows as she finished her work.
"Do you need something to ease the pain?" she asked.
"No, thank you. It's eased somewhat. Would you mind - checking on Laura - Miss Holt for me?"
Letty smiled knowingly at his slip. "That's where I was heading. If you need anything during the night -"
"I believe I can manage. Thank you."
"No, sir. Thank you for saving Miss Laura's life tonight. I don't know what this family would do without her." Returning her medical supplies to the small bag in which she kept them, her dark eyes fell upon his face once more. "And you know should how, Mr. Steele, that if anyone ever hurts that young woman, he'll have to answer to me."
"I shall consider myself warned, Letty," Remington assured her, his expression serious.
"Shall I leave the candle burning, Mr. Steele?"
"No. You might as well douse it. Thank you."
Once alone again, Remington lay there in the darkened room and found himself inundated with the memory of what he had been forced to do to save Laura's life. Killing four men - he could still see the look in their eyes as they realized they were dying - could still smell the stench of death in his nostrils and drew a shuddering breath.
Throwing his good arm across his eyes, Remington lay there, trying to put it out of his mind. But the images refused to fade, and he wondered for a moment if he should have taken Letty up on her offer of some laudanum to help him sleep.
Gentle fingers touched his face, startling Remington, causing him to pull his arm away, narrowing missing the concerned face of Laura Holt. In the moonlight coming through the window, she looked like the angel that he had first thought her to be. "Laura," he said, trying to sit up against the headboard. But the pain in his shoulder refused to allow it.
She spread her fingers over his bare shoulder, calming him. "Don't. Letty said that you could start to bleed again if you aren't still."
He reached up to take her hand in his. The touch of her fingers against his skin was doing things to his body which she could not possibly understand. "Does she know that you're here?" She was wearing her nightclothes, he noted, realizing that she had gotten out of her bed to come to him.
"She does," Laura said quietly, smiling. "She does not approve, but she knows."
"Are you well?" he asked. "When that ruffian cuffed you on the head -"
"I have a hard head," she reminded him. "I have a slight head ache, but other than that, I suffered no ill effects from our adventure."
"Thank God. When I think about what might have happened had I not been there -"
"You were," she said, placing her fingers to his lips before withdrawing them. "Remington, what you did - I can never repay you -"
"I do not want your gratitude, Miss Holt."
"You called me Laura earlier," she reminded him, "Remington. What I feel goes much deeper than mere gratitude."
"You should return to your room," he told her. "It isn't proper for you to be here -"
Laura laughed softly. "It won't be the first time that I've been in your room all night," she pointed out.
"No," he agreed. "But that was before -"
"Would you prefer I ask Letty or Aunt Mildred to stay with you?"
"No, I would not prefer it. I have no need of a nurse for the night." He smiled. "You need to rest after this evening instead of sitting with me."
"What were you thinking about when I came in?" she asked, choosing to ignore his words.
Remington shook his head. "I was thinking about how close I came to losing you tonight."
"It was more than that," Laura insisted. "The look on your face was - troubled."
Remington turned his head to look out of the window into the darkness beyond. "It was nothing. Just - painful memories."
"You were thinking about what you had to do tonight," she guessed. "To save me."
"Laura, please. I am not proud of what I had to do - but it was necessary." He smiled, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. "I would do it again."
"Perhaps, if you were to talk about it -"
"No. Especially not to you."
"I'm not a fragile flower, sir," she reminded him. "Since my father left, I've been forced to do things that most would consider quite improper for a lady. And I sat at my father's knee as he told us stories of his battles in the earlier war."
"I doubt he told you everything about what he saw, my dearest. There are some things that cannot be put into words easily - if at all. I fear this is one of them. Perhaps, once your father has returned, I would be able to speak to him about these things." Laura opened her mouth to object again, but this time it was he who lifted a finger to her lips. "You are the strongest woman that I have ever had the occasion to meet, Laura, but even you would be horrified at the things a man is sometimes forced to do to protect those he cares for."
"Then - you *do* care."
"Yes," he confirmed. "And I hope to remain here - with you, if you will agree to have me."
"Earlier, you said -"
"I was wrong. Can you forgive my foolish pride?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then I shall speak to your mother tomorrow and ask her permission to become engaged to be married. Once your father has returned -"
"That could be years," Laura pointed out, giving him an impish grin. "We could - be married now," she suggested. "I know it's terribly forward of me to suggest such a thing, but I don't want to wait."
"And if your father disapproves of your choice for a husband?" Remington questioned.
"Then we will - find another place. Together."
"You would - be willing to leave this place?"
"With you, I would be," she told him, holding tightly onto his fingers. "Wither thou goest I will go. Wither thou lodgest, I will lodge . . ." she quoted.
"Ruth would have been like you," he said. "Brave, loyal." His hand lifted again, this time to caress her chestnut hair. It was loose and hanging down her back. "You should go back to your bed, Laura. Until I speak with your mother -"
"I would rather stay with you," she replied.
"It would not be -"
"Proper," Laura finished. "As anyone will gladly inform you should you ask, I have never been a 'proper lady'. I am not a child, Remington, to be treated with kid gloves."
"You are not suggesting that we - anticipate our wedding night, I hope, Miss Holt."
"Of course not. But I do not believe that it would do any harm for me to sleep on the other side of the bed -" she looked around the room, finally finding a down quilt which Letty had brought in earlier in the day in case the night turned cool. With a determination that Remington was beginning to realize he had no chance in overcoming, she placed the quilt in the middle of the bed, creating a makeshift partition before carefully sliding under the covers. "That will do as a bundle-board, I should think. This way, if you have more bad dreams, I will be here to quiet them."
"Thank you," he told her, and felt her hand move across the quilt to find his and grasp it.
"Good night, Remington."
"Good night, Laura," he replied, and was pleasantly surprised when he fell asleep with little difficulty.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Letty entered the room and shook her head at the sight of Miss Laura curled up on one side of the bed, right up against the quilt that had obviously been intended to separate her from the man who slept on the other side.
He opened his eyes when the door closed. "Letty," he said, and quickly glanced over to where Laura still slept. Lowering his voice, he said, "She came in and insisted on staying."
"I understand, Mr. Steele. I've dealt with Miss Laura's stubborn streak since she was a babe. Once she sets her mind to something, no one and nothing can change it. You're looking much better this morning."
"I feel quite myself," he assured her, spoiling the effect when he winced as he sat up against the headboard. "Nearly so, at any rate." He ran a hand over his chin. "I shall need to shave before I speak to Mrs. Holt."
Letty's dark eyes sparkled. "You're going to ask her permission to court Miss Laura?"
"I'm going to ask her permission to *wed* Miss Laura," Remington corrected her with a smile. "As soon as possible."
"You're not letting any grass grow under your feet, are you, sir?"
"Miss Laura would prefer not to wait - and I agree with her reasoning. Do you think that Mrs. Holt will look favorably on my suit?" he asked.
"I believe you will have to discover that for yourself, Mr. Steele," Letty informed him, but her smile gave her away and she was humming to herself as she inspected his shoulder.
Once she was finished putting a fresh bandage on the wounded shoulder, Letty moved over to gently wake Laura. "Miss Laura? You need to wake now before your mother finds out you were here all night."
Laura opened her eyes and looked around before finding Remington's blue gaze. Lowering hers, she gave Letty a slightly embarrassed look. "Letty."
"Come on, miss. Your mother won't be pleased you were in here all night alone with Mr. Steele."
"She shan't know if you don't tell her," Laura pointed out, getting out of the bed as she smiled at Remington.
"I'll see you later," he promised. "Once I've attended to other matters."
Knowing what those 'other matters' were, Laura's smile widened, revealing her dimples as she followed Letty out of the room.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
He had just finished shaving when the sound of horses' hooves beating against hard ground alerted him to riders approaching. Grabbing a clean shirt, he slowly drew it on as he moved to the window, watching the six riders appear.
From inside the house, he heard Nate calling for Laura, and set about getting dressed in case he might be needed. Thinking back, he replayed the events of last night in his mind, trying to recall if he might have left a trail back to the house. While he didn't believe that he had, Remington could not be absolutely certain of the fact. His main concern had been to bring Laura home so that she could receive medical attention.
Letty knocked once on the door before entering. "Mr. Steele -"
"I saw them," he told her from the window, staying far enough back so that he was not likely to be seen from below. "Who are they?"
"Loyalists," she spat. "They all worked for Mr. Grayson, I believe. Miss Laura has gone out to talk to them. She wants you to remain in your room."
"I refuse to cower in the shadows, Letty," he said, picking up the topcoat he had taken out of the wardrobe, "and allow Laura to face those animals alone."
"She's not alone, Mr. Steele. Nate's down there with her. And so is her aunt."
Remington saw one of the men dismount and move toward the barn where the horses were stabled, and then he left the room, ignoring the jarring in his shoulder as he descended the stairs. Abigail, Frances, and the children were all huddled fearfully in the sewing room and beckoned for him to join them. But Remington shook his head and continued toward the front parlor instead, where he could listen as Laura greeted the visitors.
"Good day, gentlemen."
"Miss Holt," one of them said in a rough voice that held little respect. "Mr. Grayson and his son were murdered last night."
"Oh my," Mildred gasped. "Murdered?"
"In cold blood. We believe it was a scavenger who set upon the Connelly house, surprising Mr. Grayson, Mr. Neal and two of the men who were with them."
"It sounds as if there must have been a large group of men, Mr. Hanover," Laura suggested. "To have killed so many."
"It looked as though the trail lead directly here, Miss Holt," Hanover said. "Have you seen any strangers about?"
"Strangers? There was a man who came through here early this morning - isn't that right, Nate?"
"Yes'm," Nate agreed.
"He asked for some food and water."
"In what direction did he depart?" Hanover asked.
"Toward the west, I believe. He seemed in a hurry and had no time to sit and talk."
Remington smiled. Laura Holt continued to amaze him. The heavily wooded area to the west would be nearly impossible for them to find any sign of a trail in - even if there had been a trail to follow. The men would waste more than a day's time searching for naught.
"We found this hat at the Connelly place," Hanover told her, and Remington winced, realizing that he had failed to retrieve the hat when he and Laura had returned to the house to gather supplies.
"The man who came by here was hatless," Laura confirmed. "It's a wonder we weren't all murdered in our beds," she told them, and Remington heard the vague hint of fear in her tone as she tried to convince the men that she wasn't a threat to them.
"How long ago did he leave?"
"It was just before daylight," she said.
"Who does bay in the barn belong to?" one of the other men asked. "Last we heard, the only horse you had here was that old plow horse."
"It belongs to me," Remington said, stepping onto the porch, earning a look of anger from Laura as she turned to glare at him.
The men all reached for their firearms, but Remington kept his hands in plain sight. "I thought you said you hadn't seen any strangers, Miss Holt?" Hanover questioned.
"I am not a stranger to Miss Holt," Remington informed them smoothly. "I came here at the request of Maj. Lucius Holt to make certain that his family was well and to make the acquaintance of my future wife."
"Your future wife?"
"The Major has promised me the hand of his youngest daughter," Remington said, hoping that Laura was not so angry that she would refuse to go along with the lie if questioned.
"Is this true, Miss Holt?" Hanover asked.
Laura took a deep breath before turning to face the man on horseback once again. "Yes. We have been corresponding for several years."
"And your name, sir?" Hanover questioned, his bulging black eyes openly doubtful
"Andrew James," Remington said easily. "Mr. -"
"Hanover. John Hanover. I was an overseer for a neighbor of Miss Holt. When did you arrive, Mr. James?"
"Day before yesterday," he lied easily.
"And you were here all night?"
"Sleeping the sleep of the exhausted after my journey," Remington replied. It wasn't a lie.
"You're not in the Army?"
"Not now. I was the Major's aide for the last year but his concern for his family's safety caused him to cashier me out and send me here." It sounded weak even to him, but held his breath in hope that the man was just slow-witted enough to accept his word. "I believe that Miss Holt told you that the man you're looking for departed to the west. I would think that if you are hoping to catch up to him you would be on your way quickly."
Hanover's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he nodded in Laura's direction. "Best wishes Miss Holt. Sorry to disturb you. Let's go," he told the others.
Mildred's shoulders sagged the moment that the horses rounded the corner of the house, and Remington quickly caught her up, assisting her into one of the chairs. "There, there, Mrs. Krebs. Steady on."
"That was quick thinking Mr. Steele," Nate said with admiration. "If they'd pressed the issue about that bay -"
"I was *going* to tell them that the horse simply wandered in one day so I've been feeding it," Laura informed them, making no effort to hide her anger. "Did Letty not deliver my message?" she asked.
"Yes, she did. But I chose to ignore it. I may have deserted, Miss Holt, but I am not a coward who allows a woman to place herself between myself and danger."
"I was in no danger," Laura assured him, indicating the pistol stuffed into the back of Nate's trousers.
"One pistol against six armed men?" Remington questioned, lifting an eyebrow in consternation.
"There was no need for you to let them know you were here," she insisted.
"Apparently they've been watching the place, Miss Laura," Nate pointed out. "We're just lucky they hadn't seen Mr. Steele before now else they'd have been even more suspicious."
Laura shook her head and stalked past Remington to return to the house. "She'll be okay, Mr. Steele," Nate told him. "She's just a little - headstrong."
"So I've noticed," Remington nodded, turning to Mildred. "Do you need anything, Miss Mildred?"
"No," Mildred assured him, taking his hand. "Thank you. I can say it even if my niece is unable to."
"I'd best go try and smooth things over with her - any suggestions as to the best way to go about it?"
"Start by telling her that you love her," Mildred suggested. "The rest will come easily."
"I pray that you're correct dear lady." He assisted her back to her feet and entered the house with her, hearing Abigail and Frances talking to Laura.
"You should be grateful that he was here to help, Laura," Frances was saying. "Those men would never have respected a woman's word about what happened." Seeing Remington, Frances moved over to take his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Steele."
"I did nothing, Mrs. Piper," he told her.
"Nonsense," Abigail insisted. "False modesty does not suit you, sir."
Laura turned and left the room, and Remington winced as he saw the anger in every move. "Mrs. Holt, may I have a word with you?" he asked in a quiet voice that he hoped would not carry beyond the room. "Privately?"
"Of course," Abigail agreed. "The front sitting room?" she suggested.
"That will do," he agreed and followed her into that room, closing the doors as she sat down on the settee before the fireplace.
"What did you want to speak to me about, Mr. Steele?"
"I am aware, Mrs. Holt, that you did not approve of my presence in this house -"
"I was wrong to feel that way, Mr. Steele," Abigail admitted. "It was simply a mother's grief over the death of her only son talking. I know now that you could not possibly have had anything to do with Laurence's death."
"Thank you. My prospects are - uncertain, Mrs. Holt. I have an inheritance from my late father, which I hope to be able to claim once the war is over, but until then, I am little more than a pauper. And I know that my acquaintance with your daughter has been brief, but I was impressed from the first moment by her courage and her grace and her strength. I have never known anyone like her, and I doubt that I shall ever do so." He took a deep breath, aware that her blue eyes were on him, watching him as he paced before the hearth. "I am in love with Laura, Mrs. Holt, and I would like your permission to make her my wife. Before you answer, I want to tell you that I would gladly give my life for hers if necessary, and that I will strive to support and cherish her with all that I have no matter what might happen in the future."
"You have my permission, Mr. Steele," Abigail informed him. "But I believe that convincing my daughter to accept your suit after this morning will be quite a daunting task."
"More daunting than making the decision to leave my home and travel across the ocean in order to start anew?" he questioned. "Thank you, dear lady," he said, kneeling to take her hands in his and lift them to his lips. "Thank you."
"She'll be in the kitchen, helping Letty prepare breakfast."
"Then I shall go and speak to her at once," he decided, rising to his feet.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Laura glanced up from what she was doing as he entered the kitchen, and then looked away again, as if she intended to ignore him. Letty gave him a smile. "Something I can get for you, Mr. Steele?"
"Not at the moment, Letty. But thank you."
"I'm going to change the sheets on your bed since you're up and about," the woman decided, clearly recognizing that Remington needed to speak to Laura in private. "I won't be long, Miss Laura."
"You're angry with me," Remington said once they were alone.
She said nothing, but continued to peel some of the potatoes that they had gathered the previous night.
"Perhaps I should go," he said at last. "My wound is healed well enough that if I am careful -"
Still nothing.
Finally Remington sat down in a chair across the table from her. "We must talk about this, Laura." When she still did not respond, Remington leaned across and removed the knife and potato from her hands, placing them into the bowl and setting it aside to take her hands into his. When she attempted to pull away, he refused to allow it - until she pulled hard enough to cause a pain to shoot through his injured shoulder.
"Damn," he muttered, holding the wounded joint.
"I'm sorry," Laura apologized. "For hurting you."
"It was my fault," he replied. "Do you want me to apologize for trying to help this morning?" he asked.
"Only if you mean it," Laura said. "An apology not meant is worse than no apology."
"Why are you so put out with me?" he asked. "All I did was to try and protect the woman I care about and her family. Is that so terrible?"
"No," Laura said. "Of course not. But for the last two years, these people have been under *my* protection. They look to me for guidance and to take care of them. Suddenly -"
Remington finally understood. "They were looking to me instead," he realized. "And you felt that they no longer needed you in the same way." Remington placed his hands on the table, palms up, waiting. When she placed her hands in his, he looked at her. "Laura, I love the fact that you're so strong and that you've been able to take care of your family the way you have. But now that I'm to be a part of that family, why not share that burden with me? Allow me to take that part of your burden from your shoulders and put onto mine. I have no desire to take your place with them, only to help you to help them in any way I can." His thumbs moved over the backs of her hands. "Will you let me do that?"
"I've done it for so long on my own - perhaps this is a mistake. I'm too old to marry anyone. Too old to go into a double harness -"
"Nonsense. We shall muddle through together," he said, smiling at her. "I need you in my life, Laura, and I have no intention of giving up until you are my wife."
"I am very stubborn," she warned him.
"Willful. And so am I."
"I am set my ways."
"As am I."
"It is not just me you would become responsible for until my father's return. My mother, my sister, her children. My aunt -"
"I shall treat them as if they were my own. Because they shall be."
"I have a terrible temper."
"Indeed?" he said. "I would never have surmised that fact." He leaned forward and stood, pulling her up as well and around the end of the table. "My dear Laura, nothing you say or do shall deter me from my goal. Would you do me the inestimable honor of agreeing to become my wife, Miss Holt?"
Suddenly she smiled at him, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Yes, Mr. Steele. I will marry you."
He pulled her into his arms and lowered his lips to hers for a kiss, lost in the wonder of their love for each other, neither of them hearing Daniel's voice calling out as he ran from his position by the kitchen door back to the front of the house.
"She said yes!"
The End