“Yes, but now you don’t even have to suspect, huh?”
Darcy gave her attention to the dog.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said.
“For?” she asked, looking up at him.
“For the times I have tried to convince myself that you were just too eerie to get really close to,” he said flatly.
“I’m still eerie.”
“Not to me.”
She smiled, but wondered if she really believed him.
“Lavinia is really as gorgeous as everyone said.”
“Yes, she is,” he agreed, but he shoved his way close to her, despite the dog. “So help, huh?” he asked.
“Help?”
“Stick close.”
“You need protection from her? Do you doubt yourself?”
“Not for a minute. But she’s really the touchy-feely kind.”
“Um,” Darcy said, studying his eyes. “But you really do seem to be in a good mood tonight. And I was warned that you were in a real temper this morning. You must be happy to see Lavinia.”
“I’m happy for you to see Lavinia,” he said.
She smiled, then became serious. “But the bones were stolen,” she reminded him.
He ran his fingers down her cheek, the touch gentle, his voice like lead. “You mean more to me than the bones, but trust me, I’ll find them. I have the best forensic help you can get anywhere in the world.”
“Oh? Is that why you’re not still down at the funeral home?”
“I’ve asked a friend in the FBI for help.”
“To find old bones?”
“Do we know that they’re old bones?”
She shook her head in response to his question, still studying his eyes. He shrugged then. “You don’t have to mention that fact. Everyone will know soon enough. It’s no great secret. But for now…”
He was interrupted by a bark. The shepherd stood looking up at them, wagging her tail.
“What’s her name?” Darcy asked.
“Oola.”
“Oola?”
“According to Sam, her breeder was very fond of the play The Producers,” Matt explained with a smile.
“I see. Oola! Come on, let’s go and tell Adam thanks!”
Darcy returned to the parlor with her beer and her dog. Matt followed behind with the two bottles of beer for Clint and Carter and a Coke for Harry.
“Thank God I wasn’t drowning!” Carter said.
“A dog!” Clint exclaimed.
Darcy hunkered down with Oola, smiling at Adam. “She’s beautiful and a great gift, thank you so much, Adam.”
“I’ve had a dog in mind for you for some time now,” Adam said. “Sam just happened to know the right folks. She’s housebroken, six months old, and she’ll bond to you like glue, so he assures me.”
“Great animal,” Clint said.
“Great protection,” Matt said.
“Do ghosts get dangerous?” Lavinia asked.
“Apparently, the pursuit of them may be,” Matt said. He was staring at Harry. “That uniform is great on you,” he said.
“Well, you’ll be in uniform tomorrow, too,” Harry told him.
“Not me. I’ve got business out of town,” Matt said.
“Matt Stone!” Penny protested. “You can’t go out of town.”
“Penny, I wasn’t going to ride with a unit, no matter what. I was going to be crowd control, you know, act like the sheriff. Thayer can handle it all, though.”
“Matt, Penny has a point,” Adam said. “You should be here. After all, this is Stoneyville.”
“Clint is a Stone. He’ll have to do.”
“Wow. Great. Thanks,” Clint said.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” Matt said sheepishly.
“You’re the one so big on tourism, Matt. On showing folks our little piece of Virginia. You’re so gung ho on opening historic houses and buildings. How can you fail to be part of a reenactment?”
“Yeah, Matt!” Clint said.
“I have really important business,” he told them.
“Darcy is going to be part of it,” Clint told him.
“Oh?” Matt arched a brow to her.
She shrugged. “They think I should dress up, at least.”
“What fun!” Lavinia put in. “I’d love to playact.”
“You are more than invited to join us,” Carter said graciously.
“I’ll be there.”
Oola barked, as if agreeing that she’d participate as well, causing them all to laugh.
“Even Oola will be there,” Penny told Matt.
Darcy was surprised to see him suddenly hesitate, which seemed strange. He’d been so definite. “You know,” he said, “there was a General Stone. But he was nowhere near Stoney ville during the fighting. He was surrounding Richmond at the time.”
“Matt, you’ve always taken part before,” Clint reminded him. He looked at Darcy. “He’s usually Ian Ripley, a cavalry captain, like Harry.”
“We’ll see,” Matt said. “I have business, like I told you. But I’ll see how far things have progressed by the morning. Hey, Penny, is something burning?”
“The roast!” Penny said with dismay. She leapt up.
“I’ll help you,” Darcy offered.
As she ran after Penny, Oola followed.
She didn’t go after the food; she just sat in the kitchen. And when they left the kitchen, she sat by Darcy’s feet at the dining room table.
The meal was light, and fun, with everyone talking about the reenactment, and Lavinia bringing them all up to date on her social whirl, while flirting outrageously with every man at the table, including Harry. Still, after the nights they’d been having, it seemed a blessing.
Later, with the place cleaned up, the hour getting late, Matt at last rose to break up the group. “I slept all afternoon, but I’m still bushed. Harry, did you want to stay?”
“Nope, got to go home, thanks,” Harry said.
“There’s lots of room in the caretaker’s cottage,” Lavinia told him. He blushed to the roots—the exact effect she had intended.
“I have to go,” Harry said, “but thanks.”
Matt walked Harry to the door, then came back by Darcy’s chair. She thought she was going to blush herself when he said, “Ready to go up?”
“Um, sure,” she said, trying to sound very casual.
“I’ll just let myself out,” Lavinia said.
“Never! I’ll escort you,” Carter said.
“Hey, I’ll walk with you. He’s dangerous,” Clint teased.
“Really?” Lavinia said. “I like dangerous men.”
Darcy gave Adam a kiss on the cheek and followed Matt up the stairs.
Oola followed her.
She started for the Lee Room.
“Not tonight!” Matt told her. “My place,” he said lightly. “Oola can have the office area. We’ll take the bedroom. Alone. No ladies in white or any other visitors tonight.”
“This house does give new meaning to the term, ‘your place or mine,’” Darcy murmured. With the dog at her heels, she accompanied him.
The minute they locked the dog out of the bedroom area, and turned to one another, she began to whine. They looked at one another and laughed.
“I’m prepared,” Matt told her.
“For a whining dog?”
“You bet.”
He disappeared, then returned smiling. When the door closed, Oola was quiet. Darcy lifted a brow to him.
“Pig’s ear,” Matt said.
“Pardon?”
“She came with a supply of pigs’ ears,” he explained. “Chew toys. And now…well, you really do owe me an apology.”
“I do?”
“For thinking I might have done evil to my ex-wife.”
“I didn’t really think it.”
“Um. Humor me.” He walked to her, embracing her, offering a kiss that was electric and fevered, lips tuggi
ng upon hers, tongue all but savage in its raw seduction. The same fevered urgency came damply down the length of her throat, while his fingers, at their most nimble, tugged at buttons and the zipper of her jeans. She ran her own fingers around his waistband, finding his zipper as well, and finding that just the sound of it, and the promise there given was erotic. She might have been the one who owed the apology, but he was creating an arousal and urgency in her that was high-pitched and searing. The stroke of his fingers down the bareness of her back seemed to elicit a burning in the core of her sexuality, and she moved against him wantonly, wondering only in a very distant place in her mind if he might be determined to forget that Lavinia was on his property. Then even the whisper of such a thought eluded her, for his lips were everywhere, a caress that swept over and into her. The scent of him invaded her, and whispering a soft penance, she returned each brush of a fingertip, every steam-tipped stroke of the tongue, every intimacy, until at last they were arching, writhing, straining, and pulsing together toward a maddened crescendo that burst upon Darcy violently, climax racking her body with delicious shudders, loathe to let the least touch, taste, or scent of him leave her. And for the longest time, he did not. She lay against him, hair splayed over the vital dampness of his chest, deliciously drowsy.
She must have been exhausted herself, because she drifted to sleep.
When she woke, she was alone.
“Matt?” she said his name softly, but he wasn’t there.
Puzzled, she opened the door to the office area. And then she could see him. He’d thrown on a robe and was out on the balcony, just staring into the night. He looked like a man in torment. The dog was at his side, and Matt was absently stroking the shepherd’s ears.
Darcy wanted to go to him, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood there watching him, and thinking that if they did or didn’t find the bones soon, it wouldn’t matter. It was time to go. She had allowed this involvement, and encouraged it, lost herself within it. But she was certain that she knew what gave him such anguish.
He did care about her. He really cared.
But no matter what he tried to tell himself, what she was, what she did, mattered to him. He would never be able to look at her without remembering her tearing through the dirt for a bone, or falling into a trance, and not feel repelled.
She determined to leave him in peace. She closed the door and slipped back into bed.
Later, when he returned, she was the aggressor, laughing and teasing at first, then telling him how sorry she was.
Truly, how sorry she was.
Darcy was still sleeping when Matt awoke. He quietly slipped from the bed, showered, dressed, and took Oola downstairs so that she could take a run outside.
Penny was already up; coffee was already on. Matt accepted a cup, slipped into his downstairs office, and called Randy Newton. He didn’t know if he was relieved or impatient when Randy apologized profusely, but between working the crime scene at the mortuary and handling a political death that was suspicious, he hadn’t been able to pull all the records he could find as yet.
“Give me a day, Matt. Hell, that’s nothing in most cases, you know.”
“It’s all right, Randy. I appreciate your help.”
“Hey, tomorrow is Sunday, but I’ll keep working until I get it. My wife is going to hate you, you know.”
“Tell her your workload is my fault.”
“Hey, I have to blame it on someone, huh?”
“I guess,” Matt said. “Honestly, thanks. If you do get anything, anything at all, call me.”
“I can tell you this—whoever broke in to the mortuary wore gloves, and even slipped plastic bags over his shoes. We went over the window screen and the rest of the place for fibers, and came up with zilch. Anyway, I’ll get on those records, though I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. The bones haven’t shown up anywhere, have they?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“Go deal with your battle buffs. I’ll call you, I promise, the minute I’ve got something.”
Matt thanked him again and hung up. He drummed his fingers on the desk, feeling antsy, and thinking there had to be something more that he could do. He’d called in the FBI. Best help he could have, and he knew it.
There was a tap at his door and Penny stuck her head in..
“Are you going to have to leave town today?” she asked.
He wished that he could lie.
“No, Penny,” he said honestly.
Her smile lit up her face like a Christmas tree.
“And you’ve already got Thayer in charge of crowd control, right? I mean, of course, I know the society manages things really well, but that you put out the officers as well.”
“I should oversee it all.”
“Matt! Thayer is the best deputy a sheriff ever had. You leave him in control. Come on now, please? I’ve got your Captain Whittaker uniform all ready.”
He groaned. “Penny, I’d told you I probably wasn’t going to be here, and that if I was—”
“But you are here, and Thayer is in control. Oh, Matt! It means so much to everyone when the Stone of Stoneyville takes part!”
“All right, Penny, all right. Where’s the uniform?”
“In the laundry. I’ll bring it right to you.”
Penny’s excitement and enthusiasm regarding the day was contagious. Darcy had barely emerged from the shower when Penny arrived with a surprisingly complicated costume. “Naturally, it’s the real thing, corset, pantalettes, hoop, chemise…it’s a little hot, being summer, but not so bad. We’re going to have a breeze. Of course, in a way, that’s bad. There will be black powder everywhere, but it’s great, really, because you get the true essence of how horrible battle was and just what the poor men faced. It will be great. Now, the chemise goes on first, corset over that, then the dress. It’s not an elegant evening gown, but a typical day dress. Nice one, and it will look great on you. Deep blue. It will do wonders for your hair.”
“Thanks, Penny,” Darcy said, and she meant it until Penny tried to tie her too tightly into the corset.
“It’s how they really wore them!” Penny told her.
“Hey, that was then, this is now. I’m not passing out on the battlefield, okay, please?”
With a sigh, Penny eased her hold on the ribbons. “Lavinia will let you tie her up until she’s just about dead.”
“I’ll just bet she looks great then,” Darcy said. “I want to breathe through the show.”
When she went downstairs, she discovered that Matt had already headed out—as a last-minute participant, he had to fill in his registration papers for insurance purposes. But Carter and Clint were waiting for her.
“Wow!” Clint told her. “It’s a look—it’s a look!”
“The best that money can buy, huh?” Carter teased.
They were alone with Penny in the foyer. “Is Lavinia coming with us?”
“Lavinia, ride? Are you kidding? Adam is driving her down the road to the field. We’ll go the way we came back yesterday.”
“Great,” Darcy said. She felt a cold nose touch her hand. Oola. She stroked the dog and looked at the two men. “Can she come?”
“Sure,” Carter said with a shrug.
“Maybe we should leave her in the house,” Clint said. “All the commotion out there…she may not be used to it,” Clint said.
“There will be all kinds of dogs around. People bring their pets,” Carter said.
“I guess you’re right. All right, Oola. Let’s see what kind of a cavalry dog you’ll make. Of course, you won’t really be riding with the cavalry,” Clint said. “We’ll set you up with Penny, Lavinia, and Adam, and whoever else is around, during the battle.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
When they arrived at the field, they could see it was already crawling with people. Darcy was startled when the three of them were asked to stop a dozen times for tourists to take pictures.
Carter grinned at her. “See, you look grea
t.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I make a good camp follower.”
“The dress is too good,” Clint said. “You get to be my wife today.”
“Your wife? Why not mine?” Carter argued.
Darcy could see that most of the people were arranged behind a makeshift fence. There were officers in sheriff’s department uniforms patrolling the lines, while those in Civil War attire were on the other side of the fence. “Where’s Matt?”
“With his company, probably,” Carter said. “We’ll find them later. We’ll position you back here—you can see better.”
“Where will Adam and the others be?” Darcy asked.
“If they get here soon enough, we’ll bring ’em back with you,” Carter said. “If not, they’re going to have to join the rest of the tourists.” He tipped his hat to her, then dismounted to offer her a hand down. “We’ll tether Nellie right here. Don’t you love that—a perfect historical image, until you see the hotdog stand!”
“Ah, well, progress, what can you do?” Darcy sympathized.
“I have to go down on the first volley,” Clint told her, “so I’ll get back to you as soon as I can reasonably crawl, noble and injured, off the field.”
“You get to go down with the first volley?” Carter asked him as they rode off.
Darcy grinned, and was then surprised when a Robert E. Lee look-alike rode out to the center of the field on a beautiful white horse, dismounted, and lifted a megaphone to speak. He introduced the day of the battle, the circumstances that brought about the skirmish. Yankee troops, cut off, were trying to wind their way back to Meade, while the Southern troops were riding to catch up with Lee before the battle at Sharpsburg. A militia troop had recently held up a Northern baggage train, and, realizing they had a small force of the enemy in their sights, decided to turn the stolen guns against their enemy. It had been a bitter day of fighting, some of it house-to-house, but the majority of the action had taken place here, when the guns had sent the tattered Northerners fleeing. And yet it had not been a victory for either side as far too many lives had been lost.
When he finished speaking, he gave a flourish of his hat, mounted his white horse, and left the field in a flurry of hooves and dirt. The moment he was gone, the first cannon sounded. The battle commenced.