Chapter 2

Washington DC, 1862

Jarrod had already spent one winter back east, but this was his first in Washington and he had to admit, even though it was early, it was already miserable. Sometimes it snowed, sometimes there was just a cold rain, and if it didn't rain or snow the wind blew so hard you couldn't keep your hat on. The streets in Washington were full of soldiers in kepis with chin straps, and Jarrod was no different, but he hated the chin strap. It chafed and itched, and to make matters worse the arm wound he got at the Battle of Antietam always felt worse, especially when it rained. The only time it didn't ache was when he was near a fire, so he claimed the desk at the war department that was nearest the fireplace and somehow managed to endure the dreadful weather.

After he was wounded, he was reassigned to army intelligence, hence what he saw as being "incarcerated" in Washington. His job there was to take in information from the field officers – sensitive information about troop deployments as well as information gathered by Union spies in Washington – and to organize it before passing it on to the higher ups. It was so boring he regretted enlisting sometimes, but he kept hoping that once his arm was back in shape, they'd let him back out into the field. Frankly, he thought it was fine now, except for the achiness. He suspected they were just using his arm as an excuse to keep him in Washington because he was good at his job.

He thought about becoming bad at his job, but that just wasn't the kind of man he was growing into. And he was becoming a man now. The awful winter was really only getting started when he met his 19th birthday in Washington, in weather that was pretty warm and beautiful. Some of his coworkers took him out to dinner to celebrate. There was a club in town that catered to the soldiers, making sure they were well fed for a decent price, and they took him there after work. The place was crowded with people who were laughing and enjoying themselves – enjoying themselves in the midst of an awful war! Jarrod found that rather uncomfortable at first, but then he realized you had to cut loose sometimes or the war would grind you into the dust.

He didn't drink at this point in life – he didn't think it was a good idea to do any drinking when you were doing intelligence work – so he stayed sober, and he was glad he did when she came over to him and his friends. She smiled and said, "I hear there's a birthday party going on here."

"Our man Jarrod is turning 19!" one of Jarrod's coworkers said and slapped him on the back.

The beautiful woman in the dress with the slit up the side put her arm around him. That slit enabled her leg to move up against him, and with his senses not being dulled by liquor, he felt very, very happy to sense her bare skin through his uniform. She was young and she was warm, and she said, "Happy birthday, soldier. Jarrod, is it?"

"Jarrod Barkley," he said and tried not to let his voice wobble or even break into falsetto.

"Nice to meet you, Jarrod Barkley," she said. "I'll sing something special for you."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, turning his face red, and then she went over to a corner in the room where a piano sat. Soon, someone was playing and she was singing. "Who is she?" Jarrod asked.

"Julia Saxon," one of his friends said. "Nice piece of work, isn't she?"

"I'll say," Jarrod said.

XXXXXXX

It started that simply. Jarrod figured that he would remember the kiss and the song and the bare leg and that would be all it was, a fond birthday memory, but it didn't end there. It was only a few days later when he left his room at a boarding house for the military, heading for work, and all of a sudden, there she was, coming toward him. And she smiled at him. "Well, hello, Jarrod Barkley!"

"You remember my name," he said.

"Hard to forget a pair of eyes as blue as those," she said.

Jarrod avoided the blush but did smile. "Or a voice as lovely as yours, Miss Saxon," he said.

"Please, call me Julia," she said.

"Are you on your way to work?" he asked.

"No, actually, I don't work until the evening. The weather was decent and I was just out for a morning stroll. I take it you're off to work."

Jarrod offered his arm, and she took it, and they walked together. "I am."

"So you work at the war department," she said.

He was surprised. "How do you know that?"

"I knew the boys you came into the club with the other night. The war department must keep you busy these days. What do you do?"

"This and that," he said.

"Oh, secrets, is that it?"

Jarrod laughed. "Well, if I did work with secrets, I'd have to keep that a secret too, wouldn't I?"

"Is it a secret about how you're keeping Christmas this year?"

It was Jarrod's second Christmas away from home, and he was going to be working. "Actually, yes," he said.

She laughed. "You win. Where are you from, Jarrod?"

"California," he said.

Her eyes widened. "California? Whatever are you doing here?"

"My duty," he said. "I've been back east here for a year and a half. Nobody thought the war would last this long, but I promised I'd stay for the duration, whatever that is."

"I'll bet you didn't plan on spending the war in an office."

"No, I didn't, and I was in the field, but I was wounded at Antietam and they put me on desk work for a while."

"Not badly wounded, I hope."

"Not really, but it was in my left arm and it still hampers me a bit, so here I am."

"Why don't you come back to the club again? Tonight, maybe? I wouldn't mind looking out into the crowd and singing to those baby blues again."

Jarrod laughed. "The place will be full of blue eyes."

"Not like yours," she said.

They had arrived at the war department building. Jarrod turned to see if Julia's eyes were sincere about wanting to see him again or whether she was just trying to get some more business for the club. But then he remembered how crowded it had been. She didn't need to drum up business. "Maybe I'll come, if work permits," he said.

She squeezed his right arm and went on her way with a dazzling smile, outdone only by her own dazzling blue eyes.

And Jarrod was hooked. He was cautious about it at first. What would a girl like this want with a lowly captain from the country? She was for city men, men who might have done business with the war department but certainly didn't work for it. She was not the girl for a lowly soldier.

He'd had girlfriends back home, but nothing was ever like this. None of those girls ever got his blood pumping like this Julia Saxon did, and they certainly never awakened feelings in parts of him that he liked as much as the sensations he was feeling now. He actually had to take some good deep breaths, to be sure he was still presentable to go work. That was when he decided that yes, he would go to the club that evening, and see if this Julia Saxon still only had eyes for him, because he sure wanted to have eyes for her.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stockton CA, 1878

Nick knocked on the door and was a little surprised when Jarrod's voice told him to come in. His mother had told him that Jarrod was awake when the doctor came, but Nick expected him to be asleep again. Instead, he was sitting up in bed, pillows piled behind him, wide awake.

"Well, look who's living again," Nick said, closed the door behind him and came in. "The doctor says we still need to keep an eye on you, so I'm here to relieve our little brother here for a while."

"We've just been talking," Jarrod said. "I – uh – decided I'd best tell you what happened between me and Julia Saxon during the war."

Nick was even more surprised now. And a bit embarrassed. He was the one who been most put out by Jarrod's silence when he brought Julia Saxon home a few nights earlier, but after Jarrod was attacked and after he and Heath found out it was really the Parker brothers and not Julia who were responsible for MacGregor's murder, Nick felt bad about being so difficult over Jarrod's secret. "Are you sure you want me in on this?" Nick asked.

Jarrod nodded, but only a little. His head still hurt. He said, "Yeah, you got beaten up on my behalf, Nick. I owe you."

Nick laughed a bit and pulled up another chair. "No, I got beaten up on my own behalf. You couldn't help Julia while you were laid up in here. I felt like I owed you, if you believed in her. I was rotten to both of you the other night."

"Yeah, you were a pain, but I still want you to know what happened between Julia and me," Jarrod said. "It's simple and complicated at the same time."

"Jarrod was just explaining how he came to meet her in Washington during the war," Heath said.

"That was the simple part," Jarrod said. "She was singing at a club some friends took me to on my 19th birthday. She wished me a happy birthday and sang a song for me, and a few days later we ran into each other in the street." He chuckled a little regretfully. "Ran into each other. That's what I thought it was at the time, but it was really anything but."