Siege of the Heart (Southern Romance Series, #2) Read Free

he had done.
    He did not know how.
    “I can’t find Cee,” she said now, frowning. “She was going to help me with the baking, but she’s gone.”
    “She’s been...” Cecelia had been walking on air for a few weeks before this, bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, shining with health. Solomon knew it pleased her to have her family happy and whole once more, and he knew she had seen more than Clara ever thought. But her depression, what could be causing it?
    “I’ll check the stables.”
    “I looked in the stables.”
    “Odd.” Solomon peered through the orchard. “Have you seen Jasper?”
    “No.” Her frown deepened. “I thought he was with you.”
    “No, I haven’t seen him all morning.”
    Jasper too had been acting oddly. He often stared into the distance at nights, contributing little to the dinner conversation. Solomon knew it had been difficult for him to acclimate, that sometimes the townsfolk took Cyrus’s side in the marriage scandal. Oh, yes, it was the best gossip the town had had in years, and Millicent was determined that they wait long enough on the marriage to show that Clara had not gotten in the family way, but surely that would cause Jasper frustration and anger, not melancholy.
    “She said she was going out to the fields,” Clara murmured. She dusted her hands off on her skirt and marched towards the corner of the house.
    “Perhaps...” But Solomon’s voice trailed off. He could think of nothing.
    “Naught.” Clara announced, disgusted. She was surveying the fields when Solomon arrived, fields that were conveniently bare. The scent of ripening apples and peaches filled the air, and a crisp wind was blowing up between the trees.
    Suddenly Solomon saw the flash of movement. How many times had he watched, lying in wait for enemy soldiers trying to gain ground by stealth? He knew the look of men as they advanced through the trees, melting into the dappled shadows. He knew them, and...
    A flash of color.
    “God in Heaven.” He was running, running as fast as he could.
    Clara hiked up her skirts and hastened after him. “Solomon! What is it?” But she saw it too, before long, and he heard her scream Cecelia’s name, her voice taken by the wind.
    They skidded to a stop at the edge of the field. Cecelia’s shawl, a heavy knit thing she’d taken to wearing in the last week or so, was lying trampled in the dirt, and as they looked up the hill, they heard the pound of hooves and the last of the men disappearing over the hill.
    “I’ll saddle Beauty.” Solomon grabbed Clara’s hand and ran for the house.
    “Who are they?” her voice came out too high, hysterical. “Solomon, we have to go after them!”
    “I’ll go after them. You get some supplies from the kitchen. Bread, cheese, apples. Anything. I’ll get the horse.”
    “I’m coming with you.”
    “You’ll slow me down,” he said brutally. ”We have one horse, and one rifle. Get supplies. I’ll go. Call on Cyrus.”
    “ Cyrus ?”
    “He may help.”
    “He won’t,” she gasped. She was holding her side, but she did not stop running, even though she could hardly speak.
    “Anyone you can think of.”
    “Who would...who would...?” She was losing her breath, swaying. “Why would they take her?”
    “It wasn’t her,” Solomon said. He swung around to a stop, taking her by the shoulders. “If it was her, they...” He had seen what men did in times of war. They wouldn’t bother carrying Cecelia away. “They came for Jasper,” he said finally, thinking it best not to worry Clara with those particular facts.
    “Who would come for Jasper? Men from the town?” She looked down the road. “But they came from the forest.”
    “No one from town would take Cecelia,” Solomon said, thinking fast. An idea was forming in his head and he did not like it. “There’s only one person it could have been. It’s...oh crap! It was the Confederate army.”
    “What?” Her voice came out in a little cry.
    Solomon gave her a