Wild, Beautiful, and Free(65)

I found Christian in the library, ready to embrace me, to kiss me.

“Mon chéri!” I blushed to use the words. Since I’d never properly learned Creole, the French fell awkwardly from my mouth. But I’d always heard this phrase with such love from the likes of Papa and Dorinda that I wanted to give it to Christian now.

“My angel! Good morning! Look at you! Your eyes are as clear and as blue as the morning sky. Here is my new day. You are my sunrise.”

“Sir . . .” I caught myself. “I mean . . . Christian . . .” He laughed at me, and I easily laughed too. “Christian. I’ve wanted to call you that for such a long time.” I rested my forehead against his chest. “But some part of me will miss calling you sir.”

He raised my eyes to him. He had transformed too. His bright eyes seemed relaxed, even content. All aspects of cynicism seemed to have melted from his smile. He sounded kind, not arrogant. “Well, erase the word from your vocabulary,” he said. “At least when it comes to me.”

“You really meant it, Christian? You want me to be your wife?”

“Yes, Jeannette, of course, yes.” He pulled me to a couch to sit with him. “Last night seemed like a dream to me. I’ll have to keep reminding myself that we are together so I won’t wake in the night in my tent and wonder if I didn’t make it all up. Colonel Eshton waits for me in Washington.”

“Will we come to regret this? When you have gone to battle, will it be worse because we will miss each other so badly? If we had been as we were . . .”

“We would have still loved each other, even if we didn’t know it. It would have been a different kind of pain but pain just the same.” He touched a hand to my cheek. “You’ve given me a reason to fight, Jeannette. You’ve given me a reason to want to come back to Fortitude. I go with a lighter, braver heart than I would have done before.”

“When will you leave?”

“If you’ll agree to it, let’s marry before the week is out. And I will join Colonel Eshton soon after.”

“But can we have a few days, at least, as man and wife?”

He sighed. “I’ve already been here too long. I didn’t want to leave Fortitude until you were safely home, and when you were, well, I didn’t want to leave you. But we can steal a few days more. No one would blame us. Who knows how long we’ll be separated?”

I felt my bright energy lessen. So much time had been wasted. I wished I had known how he felt. I wished the whole month could have been ours. My eyes fell, but he lifted my face again and kissed me.

“Jeannette, don’t think of it now,” he said. “We have today. Let’s celebrate today. Let’s go to Dayton and order a wedding dress for you. We’ll tell Reverend Jordan to expect us at the altar.”

“I don’t need a fancy dress. One of my own will do well enough. It doesn’t seem right to be so extravagant now.”

“I suppose you’re right. But let me spoil you another way. I can take you somewhere when the fighting is over. We can discover the world together—Paris, Florence. You’ve never traveled.”

I laughed. Was this what it felt like to have prayers answered? “It’s almost too big, too beautiful, to think about,” I said. “But I will imagine it every day, us at sea, riding over the waves in a mighty ship. It will keep me going while you’re gone. You will write?”

“Always. As much as I can. You will never be far from my thoughts, dear Jeannette. But here we are again talking about separation. Let’s go out.”

“In a bit, Christian. First, can we share our news with Missus Livingston? She may have seen us in the yard last night. I don’t want her to think wrong things about us.” I was silent a moment, then added, “And Founder.”

He furrowed his brow, and I saw a note of concern flash across his face. “What about Founder?”

“I’ve known her since I came to Fortitude. She is a solitary being, but I like her. I think she is suspicious.”

“Of us?”

“Christian, who is she? I know she belongs here just as well as Missus Livingston or I. But why?”

He nodded slowly. “Like everyone else, she came north with our population from Belle Meade. She has been”—he paused and seemed to be searching for words—“a kind of counselor to me. She looks out for me.”

“Like Dorinda did for me?”

“Yes.” He lit up like he’d found what he’d been looking for. “Yes, you could say that. Very much like your Dorinda. Founder has indeed looked after me since I was a boy.”

Before I could say or ask anything more, he stood.

“Now,” he said, “we must go. Get your things. I’m eager for our new life to begin.”

He kissed me again with such warmth and eagerness that all I could say was, “All right.”

I went to my room for a bonnet and shawl, though I was sure the day was too nice to need them. When I came downstairs, I found Missus Livingston near the storage, taking inventory of the supplies that had been collected for the soldiers.

“We must get a wagon packed up,” she said when she perceived me next to her. “It’s time for these goods to go where they are needed.” She held a list in one hand, a short pencil in the other, but she held the pencil floating just above the paper as though she’d forgotten that one needed to touch the other. She stared vacantly at the neat stacks and bundles.