Free Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 by Patricia Hagan Page B

for the South, but had eventually pledged his allegiance to the North, more because of his fierce devotion to Travis than anything else, or so Kitty suspected. And it was in Travis’ arms that Andy had died after being wounded at the Battle of Lookout Mountain. Sam had been there, and Poppa, too. Andy had died bravely, Travis told her, like a man, even though he had really been only a boy.
    She winced, thinking of his father, Orville. A meaner man than Orville Shaw had never lived, unless it was Luke Tate. Luke, once overseer for Nathan’s family, had been fired for attacking Kitty. In revenge, he had taken Kitty away with him and his vicious band of men. Orville Shaw had been part of that band. They had gone to the mountains of North Carolina, in the dead of winter, Luke feeling safe along that western Virginia—North Carolina border. That region of both states was against the war and it was open country. Luke and his men plundered, dressing as Confederates when they wanted to steal from Union sympathizers and as Yankees when they wanted to steal from Southerners. Luke seemed at ease where loyalties divided people.
    It was on one of their plundering raids that Orville Shaw had been shot. Luke had brought him back to the cabin and ordered her to treat the injury. The bones of his elbow had been splintered, and she knew from all Doc Musgrave had taught her that there was nothing to do but amputate. She had never done an amputation before, and had never seen one done without anesthesia. But she remembered everything Doc had told her, and she performed the surgery, calling on her memory and God to help her.
    Later she went outside for water and just kept right on going, even at the risk of freezing to death, for she wanted only to escape Luke and his evil. But he had come after her, had been about to ravish her right there in the snow, when suddenly the Yankees arrived.
    A smile lit her face as she remembered looking up into the coldest eyes she had ever seen. They were the color of steel, not blue or black, but a gray luster in between. The man’s hair was shining black, the color of a raven’s wing, and despite the anger on his face, he was quite handsome.
    She had thrown herself on his chest in desperation, beating at him with her fists as she told him she had to go back home to care for her mother, to help her people.
    He had ignored her pleas, staring down at her with those damn shining eyes. Then he had whispered, “You’re beautiful. I can see why a man would hold you his prisoner if he couldn’t keep you in his bed any other way.”
    She had exploded with anger, furious over the way his eyes raked over her body. He knew she wanted him to kiss her. “I demand you take me home,” she had screamed at him.
    And he had quietly whispered, “Miss Wright, I don’t think you understand. You see, I’m Captain Coltrane of the Union Army, and you are now my prisoner.”
    Kitty laughed softly, sitting there in the decaying cabin. That was how she had met Travis. At the time, she felt it was only the continuation of her nightmare. But while there had been anger and rage, there had also been sweetness and passion. Fire and passion. Man and woman. Desire and love mixed with hatred. No, she would never tell John of this private world she had shared with his father. She only prayed that one day she would know the same joy, the same all-consuming love.
    Lost in reverie, she screamed as a man’s shadow appeared in the doorway.
    “Don’t be frightened,” called a familiar Virginia accent. “It’s me, Kitty. I was worried about you and I followed you.”
    “Jerome!” She scrambled to her feet, furious. “How did you know I was here?” she demanded.
    His voice was closer now, as he made his way across the room. “I saw you pass my store as I was closing up. I could see there was a bad storm brewing, so I decided to follow you in my carriage and offer to take you home. I had some problems with my horse’s harness,