mother, her beautiful mother, still lithe and slim and golden blond, racing hard across the lawn with some all-important missive for her father. A foreboding filled her.
Someone, a defender at the rear of her father’s house, called out, accosting Taylor’s party as they approached the yard. “Halt, or be shot!”
“It’s Colonel Douglas, here to defend with the McKenzies!” Taylor shouted, sliding down from his mount.
Beneath the bloodred sky, Tia could see soldiers loading a half-score of Enfield rifles onto a gunboat positioned on the river. Most of the men at Cimarron were behind the earthworks. Her mother was not. Tia jumped from Friar before Taylor realized her intent.
“Mother!” she shrieked, racing across the lawn.
“Tia!” she heard Taylor shout, his voice harsh with a desperate warning. “Tia!” she heard him shout again, and she knew he ran after her in pursuit. But she couldn’t stop. Her mother was in danger. She had nearly reached Tara, who was still unaware of the soldiers taking aim at the earthworks.
Again, she saw the soldiers, heard the chain of command to fire ...
She reached Tara, threw herself before her, trying to bring them both down.
“Tia!” her mother exclaimed, just before she heard the roar of the guns.
Fire tore into her.
In a field of crimson, she clung to her mother.
Then they were falling, falling ... crashing to the earth together.
Dimly, she heard the cry that tore from Taylor’s lips. She heard his shouts, the fire that emitted from his Colts in rapid succession. Then, he was beside her, on his knees, and she was staring into his eyes. Fire eyes, as gold as a blaze, eyes that had condemned her, held her, imprisoned her, and now ...
She reached up to touch his cheek. His striking, powerful, ruggedly beautiful face was blurring before her. It seemed that her whole life began to flash before her eyes ... no, not her life but the life that he had given her, filled with tempest, trouble, passion, fury ... oh, yes, fury, but still life with a soul, with spirit, with love—
Their life ...
Before the war had come here tonight, to Cimarron.
Chapter 1 A House Divided
Winter, 1863
Eleven Months Earlier
“T IA! TIA! MISS TIA ! There’s someone coming!”
Tia McKenzie froze at the sound of alarm in Private Jemmy Johnson’s voice as it filtered to her through the trees.
“Ma’am!” he whispered desperately. She heard him clear his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt your privacy, but ...”
Here she was, totally vulnerable in a manner in which she had seldom been since the war had begun, and someone was coming.
“Miss Tia, I know you’re ... in an awkward state, but ...”
Awkward? To say the least.
Ah, yes, “buck” naked, as the boys called such a state of complete undress. She had thought that they were deep enough inland to avoid the contact of any troops, indeed, any human inhabitants of the state, much less the movement of enemy troops.
These days, it was apparently no longer possible. New strategies were afoot. Right when they were most beleaguered by illness, malnutrition, and a lack of medical supplies, the enemy had chosen to make a new assault, hoping to cripple the most important war effort of the state—feeding an army.
She traveled with a pathetic, ragtag group herself. Three privates so green they were barely old enough to shave, and two sadly injured men, the latter being the cause of her sudden determination that she had to strip down to the buff to bathe away the encrusted dirt and blood that had seemed to cling to her body with greater vigor since they’d begun this hasty journey. The last action by the old camp along the river had left two youngsters—and they were no more than that, truly—with minie ball injuries that were far too often fatal. Her brother, Colonel Julian McKenzie, had performed the surgery which had thus far saved their lives, but soon after, they had broken camp. The fellows who could do so pulled
Someone, a defender at the rear of her father’s house, called out, accosting Taylor’s party as they approached the yard. “Halt, or be shot!”
“It’s Colonel Douglas, here to defend with the McKenzies!” Taylor shouted, sliding down from his mount.
Beneath the bloodred sky, Tia could see soldiers loading a half-score of Enfield rifles onto a gunboat positioned on the river. Most of the men at Cimarron were behind the earthworks. Her mother was not. Tia jumped from Friar before Taylor realized her intent.
“Mother!” she shrieked, racing across the lawn.
“Tia!” she heard Taylor shout, his voice harsh with a desperate warning. “Tia!” she heard him shout again, and she knew he ran after her in pursuit. But she couldn’t stop. Her mother was in danger. She had nearly reached Tara, who was still unaware of the soldiers taking aim at the earthworks.
Again, she saw the soldiers, heard the chain of command to fire ...
She reached Tara, threw herself before her, trying to bring them both down.
“Tia!” her mother exclaimed, just before she heard the roar of the guns.
Fire tore into her.
In a field of crimson, she clung to her mother.
Then they were falling, falling ... crashing to the earth together.
Dimly, she heard the cry that tore from Taylor’s lips. She heard his shouts, the fire that emitted from his Colts in rapid succession. Then, he was beside her, on his knees, and she was staring into his eyes. Fire eyes, as gold as a blaze, eyes that had condemned her, held her, imprisoned her, and now ...
She reached up to touch his cheek. His striking, powerful, ruggedly beautiful face was blurring before her. It seemed that her whole life began to flash before her eyes ... no, not her life but the life that he had given her, filled with tempest, trouble, passion, fury ... oh, yes, fury, but still life with a soul, with spirit, with love—
Their life ...
Before the war had come here tonight, to Cimarron.
Chapter 1 A House Divided
Winter, 1863
Eleven Months Earlier
“T IA! TIA! MISS TIA ! There’s someone coming!”
Tia McKenzie froze at the sound of alarm in Private Jemmy Johnson’s voice as it filtered to her through the trees.
“Ma’am!” he whispered desperately. She heard him clear his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt your privacy, but ...”
Here she was, totally vulnerable in a manner in which she had seldom been since the war had begun, and someone was coming.
“Miss Tia, I know you’re ... in an awkward state, but ...”
Awkward? To say the least.
Ah, yes, “buck” naked, as the boys called such a state of complete undress. She had thought that they were deep enough inland to avoid the contact of any troops, indeed, any human inhabitants of the state, much less the movement of enemy troops.
These days, it was apparently no longer possible. New strategies were afoot. Right when they were most beleaguered by illness, malnutrition, and a lack of medical supplies, the enemy had chosen to make a new assault, hoping to cripple the most important war effort of the state—feeding an army.
She traveled with a pathetic, ragtag group herself. Three privates so green they were barely old enough to shave, and two sadly injured men, the latter being the cause of her sudden determination that she had to strip down to the buff to bathe away the encrusted dirt and blood that had seemed to cling to her body with greater vigor since they’d begun this hasty journey. The last action by the old camp along the river had left two youngsters—and they were no more than that, truly—with minie ball injuries that were far too often fatal. Her brother, Colonel Julian McKenzie, had performed the surgery which had thus far saved their lives, but soon after, they had broken camp. The fellows who could do so pulled
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