Words Heard in Silence by T. Novan, Taylor Rickard Page A
Authors: T. Novan, Taylor Rickard
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with his hands and lips, this tongue and very gently his teeth. He breathed her name like a prayer "Rebecca."
He woke suddenly. His arms were around her, her hands lay over his own, affirming the tender grip he had on her. His heart was pounding, his unbound nipples pressed against her shoulders through the cotton of his nightshirt and the flannel of her gown. The heat in his belly was trying to consume him. Though her touch was gentle, it was if she had placed shackles on his wrists, binding his arms around her own body. He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck and sighed softly into her hair. The rest of the night was spent suspended in this most exquisite torture.
Chapter 5
Monday, November 7, 1864
C harlie rose before sunup. This night had been both better and worse than the preceding ones. Rebecca was beginning to invade his dreams as well as his heart, and the results were enough to put the usually even-tempered Colonel into a serious state of melancholy.
He gathered his clothing, pulling on his breast wrap, shirt, trousers and coat. The rest of his clothes he bundled under his arm. Barefoot, he hiked back to his command tent, relishing the cold almost as if it were some sort of self-inflicted penance.
At this hour, the bathing area was always deserted. Charlie posted the sign that indicated the bath was in use, and then quickly submersed himself in the cold stream. A rough shave left him with a small nick in his chin, the price of his own shaking hand. Whether the trembling was from the cold or from his memories of the previous night was not a question that Charlie wanted to look at too closely.
He prepared to don his day uniform –– the outer shell of an officer. A wry, bitter smile played around his lips as he donned the undergarments that hid his true gender and added a certain amount of padding to emulate the appendages of a man in his tight britches.
One more piece of the fraud. Ah, Miss Rebecca. When I wear the trappings of a man, I AM one to you. You flirt, you tease and I respond as any good gentleman would. Yet divest me of my symbols and appearances, let me stand before you as a woman, and I am just a sister, safe and trustworthy. Perhaps I represent the best of both worlds to you –– a charming masculine companion and a safe bed partner. I wish you understood what you are doing to me, dear lady, but I can never explain, can I.
Charlie put on his clothes for the day, and with them, his role as the committed Colonel.
He settled at his desk. It was time for his usual morning routine, reading and writing the dispatches, attending to the paperwork of command. Polk was due back today. With a little luck, his second in command may have found some cigars. His own stock had been stolen in the brush up at Brandy Station. The afternoon would be spent going over the supplies issues and planning the things needed to ensure secure winter quarters for the men.
The morning dispatches included a telegram from Sheridan. It was terse, as usual, but exactly what Charlie needed to hear.
Permission granted. Negotiate fees. NMT 100 / month. Walker arrives Wednesday.
Well, first things first. The daily dispatch to headquarters had to be written and posted with the riders. He had established a chain of outposts along the way so that communications between them could be expedited beyond the terse communications enabled by the telegraph system. Post riders changed horses every hour, and thus could cover about 20 miles an hour instead of the more sedate six or seven that was necessary if you maintained the same mount all day.
Nov. 7, 1864
Outside of Culpeper, Virginia
Lieut. General Philip H. Sheridan
Department of the Shenandoah
Dear General Sheridan
As discussed, Mistress Gaines has consented to allow the 13th Pennsylvania to winter over on her property. I will
immediately negotiate terms for her, and assume that we will issue demand script for the 100 dollars per month for November through March, as
He woke suddenly. His arms were around her, her hands lay over his own, affirming the tender grip he had on her. His heart was pounding, his unbound nipples pressed against her shoulders through the cotton of his nightshirt and the flannel of her gown. The heat in his belly was trying to consume him. Though her touch was gentle, it was if she had placed shackles on his wrists, binding his arms around her own body. He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck and sighed softly into her hair. The rest of the night was spent suspended in this most exquisite torture.
Chapter 5
Monday, November 7, 1864
C harlie rose before sunup. This night had been both better and worse than the preceding ones. Rebecca was beginning to invade his dreams as well as his heart, and the results were enough to put the usually even-tempered Colonel into a serious state of melancholy.
He gathered his clothing, pulling on his breast wrap, shirt, trousers and coat. The rest of his clothes he bundled under his arm. Barefoot, he hiked back to his command tent, relishing the cold almost as if it were some sort of self-inflicted penance.
At this hour, the bathing area was always deserted. Charlie posted the sign that indicated the bath was in use, and then quickly submersed himself in the cold stream. A rough shave left him with a small nick in his chin, the price of his own shaking hand. Whether the trembling was from the cold or from his memories of the previous night was not a question that Charlie wanted to look at too closely.
He prepared to don his day uniform –– the outer shell of an officer. A wry, bitter smile played around his lips as he donned the undergarments that hid his true gender and added a certain amount of padding to emulate the appendages of a man in his tight britches.
One more piece of the fraud. Ah, Miss Rebecca. When I wear the trappings of a man, I AM one to you. You flirt, you tease and I respond as any good gentleman would. Yet divest me of my symbols and appearances, let me stand before you as a woman, and I am just a sister, safe and trustworthy. Perhaps I represent the best of both worlds to you –– a charming masculine companion and a safe bed partner. I wish you understood what you are doing to me, dear lady, but I can never explain, can I.
Charlie put on his clothes for the day, and with them, his role as the committed Colonel.
He settled at his desk. It was time for his usual morning routine, reading and writing the dispatches, attending to the paperwork of command. Polk was due back today. With a little luck, his second in command may have found some cigars. His own stock had been stolen in the brush up at Brandy Station. The afternoon would be spent going over the supplies issues and planning the things needed to ensure secure winter quarters for the men.
The morning dispatches included a telegram from Sheridan. It was terse, as usual, but exactly what Charlie needed to hear.
Permission granted. Negotiate fees. NMT 100 / month. Walker arrives Wednesday.
Well, first things first. The daily dispatch to headquarters had to be written and posted with the riders. He had established a chain of outposts along the way so that communications between them could be expedited beyond the terse communications enabled by the telegraph system. Post riders changed horses every hour, and thus could cover about 20 miles an hour instead of the more sedate six or seven that was necessary if you maintained the same mount all day.
Nov. 7, 1864
Outside of Culpeper, Virginia
Lieut. General Philip H. Sheridan
Department of the Shenandoah
Dear General Sheridan
As discussed, Mistress Gaines has consented to allow the 13th Pennsylvania to winter over on her property. I will
immediately negotiate terms for her, and assume that we will issue demand script for the 100 dollars per month for November through March, as
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