Surrender the Wind Read Online Free PDF Page A

General John Daniel Rourke’s exploits. To the discredit and frustration of northern commanders, he had immobilized, attacked and outmaneuvered them embarrassingly, and he did it over and over again. He was one of General Lee’s favorite fighting sons of the Confederacy, the toast and legend of the South. Clever, cold and defiant. He remained at the forefront, advancing hundreds of his screaming angry Rebs, their blood-cry and lust for battle sending a chill up any Union soldier’s spine. It was hard to believe he was in her bed.
    Never would it be proper for a woman to entertain a man without a chaperone, let alone her bedroom, and scandalous in the eyes of New York Society. Yet Pleasant Valley was miles away, her present home far from town, and no one was around to check on proper decorum. The general or whoever he assumed to be was offering her friendship. She could see it in the warmth of his eyes, hear it in the gentleness of his deep baritone voice. How could she turn his friendship aside? And hadn’t he apologized?
    Maybe North and South were fighting, but for just this once, Catherine thought with perfect clarity, peace could be bridged through friendship—a friendship that connected the spirit of honor, dignity, and compassion. Both of them were alone, an island unto themselves, absent from hate and struggle and death.
    Having made her decision after a prolonged period of silence, she lifted her chin, accepting his offer of friendship. She sat on the chair facing him.
    “Tell me everything there is about you, Miss Callahan.”
    Her mind fluttered away. What was she to say? Tell him outright that she was an heiress to one the largest fortunes in the country? Tell him her family’s wealth was made from Fitzgerald Rifle Works, rifles manufactured to kill Rebel soldiers? They had initiated a friendship. If he knew her identity, he would hate her.
    “There’s not too much to tell. I am the schoolteacher in Pleasant Valley.”
    He interrupted her. “You are not from here, are you?”
    He hadn’t gained his reputation by being slow to see and seize—a discrepancy. She flushed. “I’m from New York City. My uncle is the parish priest in this community and offered me the position when the schoolmaster ran off with the wife of the butcher. Since my mother and father died before the war, and with Shawn missing and no real family remaining, I was detached and lonely. So I decided to take my uncle up on his offer. It’s all very simple, really, not much to tell.” She smoothed her skirts, depicting an ease she didn’t feel.
    He frowned with only a slight smile to warm his expression. No doubt, after commanding men, he had acquired an uncanny gift of discernment and not for one moment did she think he believed anything about her was as “simple” as she stated. “How is it you came to be so well educated, Miss Callahan?”
    She shifted under his direct scrutiny, Catherine crafted an answer. “I read quite a bit. My father was a great lover of books, and as he had a business of modest means, had the funds to acquire them.” She didn’t dare tell him they had one of the most comprehensive of residential libraries in New York. Neither did she divulge that prominent invited guests to their home included lively debates on the arts, economics, politics, literature and many other subjects. Among them was Horace Greeley, editor of the New York Tribune, William Astor and Admiral David G. Farragut. All and many more had graced the Fitzgerald table on different occasions. “I try to read everything I can get my hands on, General Rourke.” She inclined her head, offering him the same formality in which he had addressed her.
    He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Am I to understand that you now believe I am who I say I am? Believe what you will, but I always speak the truth.” He stared at her with well-intended meaning.
    Sound lodged in her throat along with her heart. Had he guessed she was not telling