Free Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins

with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Their paths hadn’t crossed since the day she’d arrived. Seeing him now made her remember the teasing banter they’d shared and the sensation of falling asleep in his arms. His handsomeness hadn’t diminisheda bit—he was still tall, bearded, and dazzling.
    He approached the laundress named Sookie, who looked as if she was going to swoon as he handed her his bundle. Sable wondered if it was considered an honor to do his laundry. The cow-eyed woman apparently thought so. Shaking her head at the silliness of some of her gender, Sable resumed stirring her vat of clothes.
    The work took a great deal of effort. To move the long length of wood around in the clothes-choked vat took more strength than she’d initially guessed. She still found it nearly impossible to move all of the clothes from the washing vat to the rinsing vat in one load, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Sable forced the long piece of wood deep into the boiling water and lifted as much of the load as she could. Her arm muscles bulging, she’d almost cleared the lip to complete the transfer when a familiar, accented voice behind her asked, “What in the world are you doing here?”
    Raimond LeVeq’s unexpected presence broke Sable’s concentration, and the clothes fell back into the vat, sending up a small shower of scalding water.
    Sable jumped out of harm’s way, irritation on her face. “This is where I’ve been assigned.”
    Raimond stared at her ill-fitting dress and mud-caked shoes and said, “You would be more useful clerking.”
    “I’m fine here, Major.”
    She wasn’t really, but she wanted no special treatment. Many of the single women had become whores in order to keep themselves afloat. Just this morning, she’d overheard the other laundresses talking about certain White officers who had harems of dark beauties at their beck and call. Sable did not want to make herself beholden to the major for any help he might throw her way.
    To Raimond Sable was even more beautiful than the night they’d first met. Her mysterious eyes were as green as the sea. A sea-faring man, he’d sailed all over the world, and everything about her called to him like thebewitching song of a siren. In spite of her obvious mixed-race parentage, her rich dark hair knotted at her nape bore the wave and thickness of its African ancestry. One could also see her tribal roots in her proud nose and lush mouth. “You clean up well,” he remarked.
    “I’m glad you approve,” she said, not missing the daggers being shot her way by the other women. She didn’t want to draw their wrath. “I need to get back to work.”
    “Would you dine with me this evening?”
    Sable looked up in surprise. “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I’m not here to be your dessert at the end of the day.”
    He chuckled. Although he found the wording of her refusal novel, he enjoyed the idea of her as a dessert. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She resumed stirring. “Now leave me before you get me in trouble with Mrs. Reese.”
    “As you wish, but I won’t stop asking,” he promised with glowing eyes.
    “Go,” she commanded, trying to hide her smile.
    He bowed gracefully and departed.
    As Raimond made his way back across camp, he smiled at the thought of the lovely Miss Fontaine. She had a spice and sass that seemed to breathe excitement back into his soul. The war, the refugees, and the untimely death of his brother Gerrold had stifled his usually exuberant approach to life. He’d seen more death than he cared to remember and more despair than the world should be able to hold. Men were dying, the country was torn apart, and his mother in New Orleans was having to sell her possessions piece by piece in order to eat. Over the past few weeks, he’d thought the sun would never shine inside him again, but Sable’s presence seemed to be changing that. Yes, he’d had a few discreet liaisons