Chapter 3

Washington DC, 1862

Jarrod did go the club where Julia worked that evening, and again it was good and crowded. He took his hat off and looked around before he found an empty spot at the bar. Since he didn't drink alcohol, he made sure that he continually nursed full glasses of sarsaparilla and had visited the plumbing in plenty of time to be back out by the bar when Julia was due to perform.

He thought she might not even notice he was there, all the blue uniforms blending in so completely. But when she came out on her way to the piano, she found him right away. She came over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. He was stunned.

It was noisy, so she moved up close to him. She was petite and nearly a foot smaller than his six-foot height. He leaned down so she could speak into his ear. "I'm glad you came," she said. "I have two sets tonight. Would you share a drink with me in my dressing room after the second show?"

Even more stunned now, Jarrod went wide-eyed.

"We'll leave the door open," she whispered.

Now he was really embarrassed. He smiled and nodded anyway.

Julia smiled at him, squeezed his hand, and went up to the piano. She sang song after song, every man in the place riveted on her – and some of them giving him an "attaboy" grin, having noticed she'd kissed him and whispered in his ear.

After a dizzying two sets, Jarrod found a man walking up to him and telling him "Miss Saxon would like to see you backstage." He followed the man, some hoots and cheers from the other patrons following him. On the way backstage, Jarrod decided it was way past time he stopped feeling and acting like a country bumpkin. He was a man now, a captain in the army. He needed to be confident in that and act like one. So he followed along, and in a moment he was entering Julia Saxon's dressing room.

She was seated at her vanity, touching up her make-up, or at least that's what it looked like. The man who brought Jarrod back left, and Jarrod went into the room. Julia smiled at him. "I'm glad you came, Jarrod."

"I enjoyed both of your shows," Jarrod said. "You have a beautiful voice."

"Oh, some find it too husky, but it's mine," she said. She nodded toward a chair. "Sit down. Stay and talk for a while."

Jarrod sat. That was when he noticed she was actually removing her heavier stage make-up. "How is it you came to be a singer?" he asked.

"It's something I found out I could do to earn a living," she said. "I wasn't really interested in being a bar waitress. You've probably already figured out there's more to that than waitressing, and I didn't want to earn my living behind closed doors, as they say. Relax, Jarrod. I'm not going to sell you anything. I'm just a singer."

Jarrod smiled a little. He'd been well aware of what a lot of young women did to make their way through life, but Julia didn't need to know how he became aware of that. He was glad – and surprised – that she was not selling her wares as well as her songs, at least not to him. "Are you from Washington?" he asked.

"I don't really know where I was born," she said. "I was the proverbial baby found on the orphanage steps, here in town. As soon as I learned I could make a living singing, I got away from there. I was 13."

"That couldn't have been easy," Jarrod said.

"No, it wasn't. I did what I had to do until I built a reputation that let me do what I wanted to do instead. How about you? Are you a real western cowboy?"

Jarrod laughed. "My family does own a ranch, and I've done my share of cowpoking, but before the war I was studying to become a lawyer."

"A lawyer? I'll bet that's why they chose you for duty in the war department."

"That and my bum arm. I do want to get back out into the field as soon as I'm able."

Julia put her make up material away. "A man of action. I like that." Then she looked at him and smiled, while taking a bottle of scotch out from below her dressing table. "You do have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Jarrod chuckled again, embarrassed again. "Nobody's ever called me beautiful before, especially not a woman who's about the most beautiful one I've ever seen."

"Would you like a drink?" she asked.

"No, thank you, I don't drink while I'm stationed at the war department."

"That's probably a good idea," she said and put the bottle away. "Loose lips are not good in your line of work. I suppose you have early hours at the war department, don't you?"

Jarrod nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Julia stood up, and Jarrod stood up with her. "I'm through for the night. I live only a couple blocks from here. Since we're skipping the drink, would you walk me home?"

Jarrod offered his arm. "My pleasure."

They left by the stage entrance that emptied into an alley. From there to the street was only a few paces, but there were several men in the alley, and they immediately started to crowd Jarrod and Julia. Jarrod pushed them out of the way, trying to be polite about it, but these men had been drinking.

One of them said, "Come on, Julia – what do you want a boy like this when you can have a man?" and he grabbed Julia by the arm.

Jarrod decked him. As the man hit the ground, Jarrod looked up at the other men. It was too dark to see for sure, but he assumed they were soldiers. He also couldn't see if he outranked them, but he bluffed anyway. "Any man who touches this woman again is going to find himself court martialed!"

That was all they needed to hear. They helped the man on the ground up and all backed away, into the darkness, letting Jarrod and Julia go on their way.

"Thank you," Julia said as soon as they were out on the street.

"That's not an unusual occurrence for you, is it?" Jarrod asked.

"No, it isn't," she sighed, "but I don't usually have as strong a young man to defend me. They're wasting your talent, keeping you in a war department office."

"That's what I think, but it won't be for much longer. Now that they're forming colored units, I'm trying to get into one, in the cavalry."

"Really? I'd think that would be especially dangerous. The Confederates are not taking very kindly to fighting negro soldiers."

"I admire the black men for what they're doing, fighting to free themselves. I want to help."

"Isn't your work with the war department helping them? I mean, I'm sure your work has you helping with their organization, getting them where they need to be, all that sort of thing."

Jarrod heard a little alarm bell go off in his head. He knew better than to let the conversation go in this direction. "I just want to be back in the action," he said, and he left it at that.

They talked about idle things after that, until Jarrod stopped with Julia in front of the building where she lived. She turned toward him, saying, "Well, good night."

She was inviting a kiss, and he knew it, but he was still cautious. He did kiss her, just very lightly on the lips, not lingering long at all. "Good night, Julia," he said.

As he walked home to his room, Jarrod felt the tingle she had left him with on their first meeting, but now it was tempered by the questions she asked. He didn't think she was being anything but innocent about it, but he knew he could not take the chance. He especially could not let her interest in him lower his guard.

He was an intelligence agent. He worked with sensitive information, and once or twice he had even been called upon to get out of uniform and meet with intelligence agents in the field. He didn't think she knew that, but the fact that she knew he worked for the war department was enough to keep him alert. He didn't trust her intentions, not yet.

But it sure would be nice to think she was just interested in him for himself, and not for the information he had. Maybe he'd come to believe that, but he didn't. Not yet.