The Officer's Desire by Colleen French

Author:Colleen French [French, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Evan Marshall Agency
Published: 2019-03-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

As the days of September passed and October came with its crisp mornings and falling leaves, Cassie fell into a routine as Washington's army retreated north slowly, giving up more of New York each day. The British pressed on with a slow deliberation, taking the eastern shore and moving inland. Skirmishes erupted daily, with the rebel army winning few but managing to remain intact. Life was hard for Cassie, being so near Devon without having contact with him, but it was bearable. She kept herself busy with the wounded, managing occasionally to get a taste of minor confrontations, and she waited for a sign of change from her husband.

It all seemed so silly to her. Cassie laughed, climbing higher in the apple tree. How could Devon ignore her like this, day after day, week after week? In the first days that the army started making their retreat, she had made several attempts to reconcile with him, but he'd refused coldly. His only solution was for her to pack up and return to Marshview and she wouldn't do it. She couldn't. Her conscience wouldn't allow it.

Cassie shook a branch and apples fell like raindrops. She had found the tree two days ago and convinced Mordecai to come help her pick apples for the men. Food was often scarce, and they'd be a welcome sight baking in the embers of campfires tonight.

"Ouch! Damnation, woman!" Mordecai called from below. "What a way for a war hero to die. Struck by a woman's apple." He leaned over and continued picking up the fruit that had fallen to the ground.

Cassie laughed, her voice echoing in the tree. "God, it's beautiful up here, Mordecai. You ought to see it." She tucked her skirt between her legs and climbed higher, ducking and dodging the sprawling branches. "You must be able to see the whole world from here!"

Mordecai shook his head good-naturedly. "I told you, woman—"

"I said, don't call me that." she interrupted, slinging a rotten apple at him.

He ducked. "I told you before, Cassie O'Flynn Marsh, I'm no climber. I'd do anything in the world for you, my little apple blossom, but I'll not climb a ladder, nor a mast, nor an apple tree, not even for you." He tossed his apples into an old basket, one after the other.

Cassie giggled, leaning to shake a branch that was heavy with apples. Mordecai had been her saving grace in the days that followed their trek from Manhattan. Somehow he had managed to befriend her while still remaining on good terms with Devon. Without Mordecai, she'd have given in and gone to Dover long ago.

She looked out over the trees and meadows of the county, swinging one leg over a branch to make a seat. "Beautiful." she whispered, inhaling the heady aroma of ripe apples and falling yellow leaves. She watched the puffs of blue and white clouds drift in the sky, her throat tightening. She wished she could bring Devon up here. He would climb up beside her to see the fields of buckwheat and groves of apple and nut trees.

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