Surrender the Wind by Elizabeth St. Michel

pierced her with the looming threat. Of course, he would hold that over her head. He felt she would be safe married to the general. Yes…and she should have thought of that, also, to not be forced into an arranged marriage by Mallory. It wasn’t like she disliked John. Didn’t she like his kisses and the way he held her in his arms?
    There was a long pause in silence until John infuriated, pinched her arm.
    “I do,” she squeaked.
    “Done. By the angels in heaven, my sister is smiling down on me now.” Father Callahan slapped his book closed, paused to shake hands and congratulate them both. “I have some business to do, so I’ll be leaving now, and let you two youngsters get acquainted.”
    Catherine colored from the innuendo. But it was the rapid departure of her uncle that caused panic to erupt. “You can’t leave.”
    “But I must. I have a christening to perform. Lovely family.” He looked to John. “The O’Shaunesseys, God Bless them—their eighteenth child.”
    “Their eighteenth child,” she shrieked. “The father should be taken out and shot.”
    “A man after my own heart.” John laughed.
    Catherine shot daggers at him.
    She followed her uncle out of the house and onto the porch. He gave her a fatherly kiss good-bye. “Trust in God. He has a special plan for you.” To John, he held out his hand and said, “As a man of God, I have a clear idea of all manner of mankind—welcome to the family.”
    Catherine watched her uncle disappear down the road. Melancholy filled her soul. He was getting older. “He’s all I have left now.” She whispered more to herself than to John.
    “You have a husband now.” He stood behind her, his shadow engulfing hers.
    “You don’t have to stay married to me,” she said, stunned by what had occurred. Stooping, she picked up her spectacles from where they had fallen the night before and placed them on her nose. We could seek higher authority on an annulment in this situation.”
    “Situation?” A vein pulsed in his neck.
    “I did not ask for you to be thrown at my doorstep. To think my reward for sparing your life will be married to a rebel General. The irony of it, I’m only beginning to understand. I’d be more fortunate possessing the waxed wings of Icarus and flying into the sun.”
    John’s eyes narrowed. “This rebel is now your husband…one you will honor. And obey. Unless a favored Yankee bullet finds my heart, we will be wed until death do us part. But until fortune smiles adversely upon me, you are, by all rights, my wife. Your compliance, your duties, your submission will be in accordance with this role.”
    “Honor? You don’t even know what the word means. “Obey? I’ll never acquiesce to that term. Should I genuflect as you pass, General? Do I kneel on rice and pay homage?”
    He folded his arms in front of him. “As Mrs. John Daniel Rourke, you will honor the name in the strictest sense. Do I make myself clear?”
    “Your hubris, General Rourke—” she took an abrupt step toward him “…will be your downfall, for you underestimate me. You may ponder your successes with your Southern uprising, but with me it will be a very different matter. I will, as my solemn oath, violate every rule you put before me, resist every command, and create disorder in every decision. I am one Yankee you will regret challenging. I will rebel, subvert, and create chaos and bedlam until you are deranged. You could have all the armies of the world, except I will turn your miserable life upside-down. Do I make myself clear?” She jumped when he reached out and removed her spectacles and peered through them.
    “Glass. Plain glass. You don’t need these at all. What are you afraid of? And suppose you tell me how you neglected to mention the name Fitzgerald?” He turned on his heel and moved to the end of the porch.
    She dragged her palms over her skirts. To come up with a suitable answer? To inform him he married the heir to Fitzgerald Rifle Works?