Glory by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

won’t sleep. The wine is warm, it’s good. It eases the little pains in the body, and plays with the mind, perhaps just a little bit. Maybe you’ll sleep and it will give you dreams. But these days, eh, sir, the dreams are better than the truth in daylight. So, you sleep well, you dream sweet dreams. The wine’s potent, that’s all I say. Take a sip.”
    He did so. It was an excellent full-bodied wine, almost a port. It was dry without being bitter, fruity without being too sweet.
    “Well, Colonel?”
    “You make wonderful wine, Mammy Nor.”
    “You don’t know just how wonderful yet, Colonel!”
    “I’ll be careful.”
    “Have a good night, sir. Sleep well. Dream sweetly.”
    “Thank you.”
    With a knowing wink and a slow turn, she left him alone.
    He couldn’t help thinking that it was a strange household.
    The wine was good. It seemed to flow through his limbs, and, as she had said, it eased all the little aches and pains. Though he was certain it wasn’t poisoned, he still sipped it carefully. The earth witch who owned the place was a Yankee, which meant he had to be careful. But the lulling heat that filled his veins was addictive. A second glass seemed in order. God, yes, it was potent, and very good. Besides, he’d always been able to drink his share of bourbon. He could surely handle a couple glasses of wine.
    As he sat there, just finishing it, Rachel came in to the room.
    “Oh, sir, there you are!” she said happily.
    “Hello, Rachel.”
    “Have you eaten?” she asked him.
    She was young, charming, effusive, and sincere. He smiled in return, suddenly wishing he weren’t living out a lie for the evening, since she was so pleased to have them.
    “Yes, I’ve eaten.”
    “Good. Then come on up.”
    “Up? Where?”
    “I’ve made arrangements for everyone, sir, but since you’re the ranking man—” She broke off suddenly, frowning. “You are, aren’t you?”
    “Uh—yes, at the moment.”
    “You’ve a private room, upstairs. The other fellows will share, though they say they have to take turns on guard. Is that right?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Ah, well, follow me.”
    “All right. Just let me look in on my patient.”
    He did so. Paddy was sleeping peacefully. So peacefully that he paused, listening for Paddy’s heartbeat and his slow, deep breathing.
    “Don’t worry,” Rachel said, tugging on his arm. “Rhiannon gave him some laudanum. He’ll sleep like a baby. That wound must have hurt blue blazes.”
    He didn’t object to an injured man being given a pain-killing drug—just to the fact that Rhiannon had chosen to do so without asking him. But then again, it was the common household cure for every little ache and pain, quite popular among the ladies—young and old, North and South.
    “Perhaps I should speak with Rhiannon,” he said.
    “She’s gone to bed for the night,” Rachel told him. “You’ll have to speak with her in the morning. Don’t yell at her.”
    “I can hardly yell at our hostess.”
    “She meant well.”
    “Did she?”
    “Of course. She wouldn’t do anything bad to anyone. I told you—she’s better than most doctors. She was in Washington for a while, petitioning to follow Richard’s regiment as a medic, but she couldn’t get permission, so she worked in a hospital there. She’s magic.”
    Magic again. “Is she?” he inquired skeptically.
    “Honestly. And she sees, you know.”
    “Sees what?”
    “More than most.”
    He lowered his head, hiding a skeptical grin. “She’s a prophet?”
    “Oh, no, and she’d be furious if she thought I told you such a thing. Sometimes she just ... knows things. When they happen, right before they happen. And she can find things and people and ... she’s just magic, that’s all.”
    “And what is Rhiannon to you? Are you related? Do you see things as well?”
    Rachel laughed. “No, I’m afraid that I can’t see things right before my eyes most of the time. Richard—her husband—was my