ROSEDALE IN APRIL
Chapter Twelve

Some call it a fever…a scorching, uncontrollable malady that torturously sears a delirious mind while simultaneously racking the body with its raging suffering heat. Once caught, a man can either let it run its course by burning its way out or helplessly succumb to its deadliest damning destruction. One taste of Rose and the contagious fever had spread curling through Jack’s body like a smoking untamable wildfire. Man simply wasn’t created with enough willpower to resist her kind of feverish sin-loving temptation. For in truth, Rose was temptation personified…the embodiment of feminine seduction. The female serpent of the Garden of Eden, who drove seemingly intelligent, sane men to a fevered pitch of sexual stupidity. That’s what she had artlessly done to one cursed feverishly stricken Yankee Captain. When Rose DeWitt Bukater pranced across Rosedale’s lawns, with satin smooth generous breasts wantonly displayed for all the male gender to ogle and pant after, every man in Texas held their ragged breaths.

From afar, Captain Jack Dalton breathlessly perused the mesmerizing, alluring woman currently surrounded by a multitude of Union soldiers, her lilting laughter drifting through the spring breezes like harmonious music…tantalizing and teasing his throbbing fevered head. Even after last night, he still craved her touch…her sweet jasmine scent. God, how he hated this inexplicable power she held over him…and the Captain silently raged!

"So tell me, Sergeant Ryan…have you known your captain for very long?" Rose warmly questioned while sparkling pools of heartbreak impaled another Yankee’s feeble, weakening soul.

"Practically all our lives, Miss Bukater." Elated that the bubbly lady was sitting and conversing with him like they were long lost friends, Sergeant Tommy Ryan was susceptibly becoming absolutely captivated by the gorgeous woman’s vivacious presence and outgoing personality. His captain and life long friend had to be the luckiest man on earth and Tommy deeply sighed in envy. Remarkably, he’d think he might be immune to such glamorous beauty after the previous night’s welcomed relief from Miss Dupuis…but not even that lady’s unconventional affections were enough to squelch the tingling overwhelming effects Rose so effortlessly bestowed on a man with just a mere smile.

"Rose…call me, Rose…Sergeant Ryan." Rose giddily allowed in a voice that literally purred in naive seduction.

"Only if you call me Tommy," the Union Sergeant beamingly returned although feeling a bit guilty and uncomfortable from the growing tightness through his uniform’s crotch. He secretly exhaled a pent-up breath to calm his racing heart. His poor captain…damn if the man was regrettably condemned to a life of horrendous torture…knowing how the forthcoming separation from this sultry siren would tragically wound a man to the core. Tommy couldn’t help but sympathize with the man…but hell…who was he kidding? He felt sorry for himself and he’d never even touched the magnificent enchantress! Jack was such a lucky bastard…in that respect at least!

"All right, deal. Tommy, does your captain have…uh…any family up North?" Rose nervously stuttered, slyly lowering her lashes to hide the obvious dread of his next awaited response. That charming southern accent never failed to tickle his fancy…

Fighting to keep his attention on what she said and not how she said it, Tommy finally smiled in understanding. It seemed that his friend hadn’t done much talking about his personal life in the intimacy of their shared quarters over the last two nights. Of course, not that he could blame Jack in the least for that would be the last thing on any man’s mind in such a surreal heaven. But that piece of pertinent yet private information was something only his captain could honestly answer, so therefore he wisely chose to dodge the seemingly innocent inquiry. However, not before noticing the lady’s extreme curiosity that he rather suspected had nothing to do with Jack’s parents or siblings but perhaps the possibility of a wife or betrothed stashed somewhere in northern enemy territory.

"Not anymore, Rose. The Captain has been through a lot since this bloody war. I guess we all have, no?" Nevertheless, Tommy gallantly sought to try and ease the lady’s tensions, which immediately awarded him with another radiant smile from full sensual lips the color of plums.

"Of course, Tommy. We all have and in most likelihood, we’re unfortunately in for a great deal more grief, pain, and heartache…sooner or later. I feel it coming…do you think the Confederacy will fall, Tommy?" Soulful green eyes begged for the truth.

She artlessly threw the flustered Sergeant completely off kilter with her last unexpected question. A question he was astonishingly stunned that she’d even feel comfortable enough to ask an enemy soldier like himself. But then again…Rose never ceased to surprise and amaze them all in some way or another.

Tommy stared deep into eyes of glittering jade sensing the fear and vulnerability that she so desperately tried to conceal. Yes…the South would fall and with it…this chivalrous society of opulence and grandeur that would be gone like ashes in the wind. And surprisingly, he had to feel sad for her. Because it wasn’t as if he and Jack hated all Johnny Rebs. Although they might not agree with the rebels’ cause, he supposed the Confederates were merely fighting for their own way of life…their only means for survival. But slavery wasn’t right in any shape or form. Yet a man had to admire and respect anyone who bravely and courageously stood up and fought for their beliefs…as long as it was in a honorable manner. Thinking over his next response, he decided to answer in the most honest way he knew how for deceit and patronization were two ingredients that were totally absent from the charismatic Irishman’s spiritual makeup.

"Rose, I respectfully yet truthfully feel that the North will prevail in this horrible calamity. I know that’s something you don’t wish to hear…but it’s the God’s honest truth. It’s just a matter of time."

Dropping wistful sage green magnetic eyes to the ground, Rose ruefully frowned then squinted up at the overbearing sun letting the humid heat dry the tears that threatened to spill down flawless cheeks of creamy ivory.

"Perhaps, Tommy. But you know, it’s not a war that’s solely defending slavery because, believe it or not, not all of us uphold any form of human bondage. There are those that are fighting for Southern independence…individual states’ rights to choose our own course. Just like when the Thirteen Colonies fought England for that same inherent right. Nonetheless, one never knows for certain how things will come out in the end. Do they?"

Tommy had to wryly smile his appreciation for her naive beliefs…knowing the young girl had never seen the Godforsaken cruelty of blood and gore spilled on an actual battlefield. Or maybe even the severe human torture suffered at the hands of many of the southern plantations’ vicious overseers and masters. It was obvious that Rosedale’s slaves were treated fairly. But the horrific mutilations of so many human beings inflicted both in war and in the name of slavery were gut wrenching…beasts of burden were literally treated better that the majority of enslaved Negroes. And Tommy found himself sincerely hoping that Rose would never be privy to such God-awful brutality…for her own sake.

Then suddenly, Rose charmingly smiled to relieve the nervous tension before glimpsing her half-sister’s future husband coming in from the cotton fields. The golden sunrays highlighted the copper of her hair and the peridot gems of her eyes began dancing in some hidden mischief.

"Excuse me, Tommy. It’s really been a pleasure talking with you, but I have some unintended business to take care of. See you at dinner tonight." And she childishly skipped off like a little girl in white eyelet lace with her unruly blood fire hair blowing out behind her in the gentle April breezes. Again, Sergeant Tommy Ryan sighed…if only.

"Charles! Wait up!" Rose emphatically called with her skirts scandalously hiked up to her knees.

"Well, Miss Rose! What’s gotcha in such an all fired tiff?"

Charles cheerfully grinned at the lovely stepsister of his wife to be. Although he was a Negro field hand, a mere piece of property to a southern rich white family, Charles felt uncommonly lucky to call this particular plantation home. While it was true that Colonel Sterling Bukater had once been a fair taskmaster, although with a touch of mean spiritedness edged into his lost soul, Charles had always reckoned that was probably because he had never experienced true love from his own wife. But when Mistress Sable was alive, no one dared to treat those like himself with disrespect or cruelty, and it wasn’t until her untimely death that the master actually became so brutal even to Sable’s own daughter. For Mistress Sable and her daughter were two of a kind, always willing to sacrifice themselves for those that they loved. He wasn’t a fool…every person currently in residence at Rosedale knew what Miss Rose had unselfishly done to save their home from the Yankee’s destruction. Yes, he was indeed fortunate because his Lizzie was dearly loved, as was everyone else on this plantation for that matter, by the gentle creature currently barreling down upon him with a touch of the devil gleaming in those dancing cat eyes.

"I have some matters to discuss regarding my dearest sister, Charles. Come on and let’s take a walk and let me lay down the law regarding her regale proper treatment that’s expected from her dreadfully lucky husband. Of course, you will treat her like a Queen, won’t you? And to think that tomorrow is the glorious day! Um? Are you just on pins and needles, dear Charles?"

Throwing back his dark head in a deep hearty laugh, Rose possessively took Charles’ arm and together they strolled towards the slave quarters completely oblivious to the Yankee Captain following their every movement with eyes of glittering sapphires. Damn, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her…what in the hell was happening to him? Shit! Every man around virtually hung on to every word and every glance she blessed them with! Rose always had to have a man close by leading them around by a string! But not me…dammit…not me!

It was uncommonly hot in Jefferson for this time of the year. The Union soldiers were out practicing their military drills, readying themselves for future upcoming battles to ultimately decide the fate of two warring nations. From the distance, Rose curiously watched in fascination and brewing dread…wondering which of the blue coated men would never live to see their tomorrows. Such an absolute waste…stupid men!

"Miss Rose! Yo’ gonna sho’ us nows hows to shoe a horse?" Little Jacob and Jedediah were animatedly gushing in complete awe of their youthful, spirited mistress, which successfully brought the young woman out of her silent disconcerting revelry.

Squatting down at eye level, Rose adoringly grinned and tweaked their little noses before nodding. "Didn’t I promise you both that I would? Go fetch the Duke and let’s give it a whirl, shall we?" And as the boys ran off squealing in excitement, Rose shook her head at the childish innocence of youth…so unaffected by war and its terrible costs.

Let’s tie him to the hitching post, Jacob. Jedediah, go get the trimming tools…you remember which ones?" Rose enthusiastically clamored.

"I sho’nuff does, Miss Rose. Iza brings them wid me right chere!"

"Well I declare…such a memory, Jedediah! Should’ve known with you so quick at learning your numbers and letters. Speaking of school…we’ll be starting back up in a day or two…especially since the Colonel is away!"

As Rose assisted in tethering up the black stallion to tutor the lads in a farrier’s tricks of stead feet trimming, she halted long enough to tame her unruly hair in a scarf to keep it out of her flushed face. Dressed in a blouse and skirt of white eyelet lace and of the flimsiest gauze material, she emulated a wild heathen gypsy with delicate creamy shoulders and collarbones exposed. The skirt was cinched tight at the waist, billowing out and striking her just below the knees. Too short, too thin, too revealing, and way too scandalous in the loosest form of the word. A mischievous Rose zealously kicked off her shoes and playfully kicked dust at the two little boys. Unabashedly straddling the upheld ebony steed’s leg with her shapely bottom stuck high in the air, she diligently began to work over the elevated hoof explaining each tedious step to the curiously enthralled students.

On the makeshift marching field, an equally overly curious Private Fabrizio di Rossi stopped in mid-stride and stared with mouth wide open. With each slight movement, the tops of Rose’s voluptuous breasts threatened to spill over the top of her elasticized see through blouse. Each jiggle of soft woman’s flesh prompted the young awestruck Private to suck in his breath in awkward anticipation and innocent embarrassment. Trying to avert his thunderstruck gaze, brown pools of increasing desire magnetically came back of their own volition…against his gentleman’s will. He was hopelessly ensnared and he couldn’t look away if he tried…his whole world came down to this seductively alluring creature completely oblivious to any and all around her…and he was totally lost to all reality!

For the third time, Captain Jack Dalton thunderously barked the young private’s name from across the ranks ordering an about face. But dammit all to hell, Private di Rossi was uncharacteristically acting as if he was completely deaf and in some kind of crazed, hypnotic trance, no less! Jack was furious and ominously marched over intent on reaming out the insubordinate youth.

"What the hell is your problem, Private di Rossi? Can’t you follow simple orders?" Jack harshly bellowed at a mere hand’s breadth from the blushing youth’s ear. Curiously following the pup’s line of vision, Jack’s eyes bulged as he savagely swore and held his breath at the flaunting spectacle of the cursed auburn haired wench. Damn, she was blatantly testing the limits of every man’s endurance and blast it all to hell, she apparently enjoyed showing herself off like a vaudeville floozy!

Every Union soldier stood stock still openly ogling the wanton scene playing out before them like an amatory actress performing on stage. Bent over with her backside facing the astonished platoon then turning in one graceful movement lewdly exposing her oscillating breasts to the slobbering male dominated crowd, sweat began to trickle down between her revealing neckline. As she straightened upright, Rose swiped the scarf off her flaming unruly curls and seductively wiped the glistening moisture from between partially revealed polished pearl globes of abundant flesh. Each nerve-racked man broke out into his own sweat…trying to catch an even breath.

And then, the two young Negro boys began to hoist two pails of water into the ancient oak tree’s branches hanging directly over the hitching post. Cackling in merriment, young Jacob agilely climbed out onto the massive limb overhead shouting something inaudible down below. Now what in the name of God were they doing now? Jack inwardly raged.

As effortlessly as a limber, seasoned dancer, Rose mercilessly bent her back over the horizontal post and sensually gazed heavenwards prompting her thin skirt to alluringly hike up in the front while the delicate column of her neck arched back displaying every womanly curve. In what seemed like slow motion, the bucket suddenly spilled its watery contents, splashing and instantly soaking the ethereal vision from head to toe. Immediately, the second pail emptied its sparkling liquid causing a piercing squeal of pure ecstatic pleasure. There was a touch of roughness to her licentious laugh that made a man yearn for forbidden passion in clandestine meeting places. A look of rapturous ecstasy passed across her seductive visage…that same contorted mask she wore during her and the breathlessly shocked Captain’s most intimate of heated climaxes. Closing her limpid magnolia eyes, she slowly began to shake her long copper hair out, first front wards and backwards and then to each side like a wet animal slinging drops of water from their soaked coats. Consequently, the gauzy white dress had become completely transparent leaving nothing hidden to the imagination. With each sensual movement, her lightly veiled breasts swayed in slow motion. Even from the distance, the entire Yankee company became dangerously privy to the darkened peaks of rose-hued nipples; the betraying way the wet gauze of the dress seductively clung to legs wantonly visualizing every luscious curve; the obvious indenting hollow of her navel, but moreover, the darker triangle at the juncture of her thighs.

It was the most erotic moment in Captain Jack Dalton’s life…up until then at least. A slight tick ran down his jaw line from clenching his teeth while his nostrils flared in lust. Flushing and glancing around, he heartily suspected that same erotic stimulating sight was shared by every man present considering how every jaw was unintentionally gaping open in astonishment and appreciation. Voyeurism at its best!

At the limit of his patience and endurance, the Captain savagely cursed under his breath and darkly stalked over to the soaking wet and oblivious laughing she-devil. Viciously grabbing an unsuspecting Rose by the upper arm, he forcefully dragged the screeching spitfire behind him all the while incoherently mumbling something about sluts and whores.

"Let me go, Captain! You’re hurting me!" Rose vehemently screamed in heated protest.

"If you’re going to exhibit yourself like a whore, then I’ll treat you like one!" Jack threateningly rebuked.

Dragging and yanking her inside the garconiere, kicking and punching the entire way, Jack slammed and locked the door behind them.

"You teasing little slut…now lay down and let me give you what you obviously want!"

"I hate you!" Rose secretly smiled.

"Mmm…yes…I do love how you hate me, wench!"

And in the next instant, Rose attacked by savagely clutching his sweaty tawny head and devouring his hot panting mouth…tearing at his uniform…drowning him with her own private form of ludicrous love giving hatred…stealing his breath away while capturing his heart and soul.

As Sergeant Ryan and Private di Rossi gulped in the spring air to calm their taunt nerves and raging ardor, Fabrizio helplessly implored, "Sergeant Ryan…now can we go take a swim and cool off, too?"

Shaking his curly Irish head and chuckling, Tommy slapped the young private on his back and heartily agreed. "That’s an order, Private. All of you…fall out for a swim in the lagoon!"

It was a considerable amount of time later that the Captain returned from the secluded garconiere. Tommy was nearby to cast his friend an amused crooked grin and chuckled in mutual understanding.

"Well…did you teach her a lesson, Captain?" Tommy blatantly interrogated.

"I don’t want to hear it, Sergeant. Dismissed!" Jack stoically ordered but with a half grin marring his flushed albeit embarrassed countenance.

Dinner that night was rather tense to say the least. Every Union officer in attendance was blushing furiously like shy, silly virgins on the eve of their wedding nights. None able to wipe out the erotic vision of the Captain’s mistress innocently affording them a glimpse of her body’s sensual beauty. And each was feeling a bit of jealousy…each envious of their superior officer’s uncanny luck when it came to women. Not just any woman, but this fair mistress of Rosedale. However, the awe inspiring woman in emerald green silk never seemed to bat an eye at her obvious overt flirtation. They all inwardly surmised that maybe Rose DeWitt Bukater simply had no concept of her audacious behavior. Perhaps it was true what they said about Texas woman possessing their own kind of grit and hellfire. Prideful and unmindful of what anybody else thought…totally independent and spirited to sustain them in a male dominated world yet able to make it strictly on their own without a man’s support or guidance. But this young unconventional girl seemed so fragile and feminine…but one could only imagine what lurked beneath that body and heart. For they all suspected that she would be the one to send an unwary man, such as their Captain, to the very depths of hell. Of course as they all recalled the first words out of her mouth when they arrived on this plantation, Rose had essentially promised just that…"One more step Yank and I’ll send you straight to hell where you belong!" So in truth, the lady had tried to warn the Captain…they had to allow her that!

The sudden loud pattering of little scuffling feet came rushing into the quiet formal dining room gratefully breaking the lingering uncomfortable silence.

"Miss Rose! Iza lost me tooth…sees, Miss Rose!" Little Jacob held out his tongue and lip to proudly show the space that gaped within.

"Jacob! At last…well I guess it’s time to go catch fireflies for the tooth fairy! Let’s go fetch a jar!" Rose excitedly chimed in relieved for the interruption from the formally stringent meal. Tonight had been so suffocating and boring for some unknown reason…everyone seemed afraid to talk or even glimpse her direction. What a boorish lot of Yanks…I just can’t imagine what has their drawers in such a wad!

"Gentlemen…if you’ll excuse me I have some very important business that needs my immediate attention." And with that, she cheerfully leapt out of her chair and clutched Jacob by the hand to run outside completely dismissing the solemn lot of men thankfully left inside to their own stale selves.

Leaning over to refill the Captain’s glass, Lizzie widely smiled in amusement at her sister’s youthful gaiety and free spiritedness. "Dat Miz Rose! She a pistol fo’ sho’!"

Captain Jack Dalton crooked a dark brow in confusion. "Fireflies and tooth fairies? Whatever do they have in common, Lizzie? Never heard of such a thing…some kind of southern custom?"

"Aw, dats jest Miz Rose’s make believe tales fo’ da young’uns rounds dere, Cap’un Daw’un. She tells dem dat fo’ the tooth fairy to find dair lost tooth, the fairy needs to know wheres to come at night. So Miz Rose and da young’uns catches a bunch of fireflies and puts dem in a glass jar by dair beds. Dat way the tooth fairy can see dair ways under the pillows and leaves dem a treat...put dair by the tooth fairy herself during the night...the Fairy Princess Rose. Ain’t dat sweet, Cap’un Daw’un?"

"Sweet as cane syrup, Lizzie!" Jack sarcastically albeit begrudgingly admitted.

Sergeant Tommy Ryan threw back his head and laughed deep down in his chest. With Irish eyes smiling, he derisively sneered, "What’s with you bunch of old stoic stiff shirts! Can’t a lady enjoy herself around here without the whole lot of ye’ questioning and condemning her every free willed move? She is a princess all right…of her own damn state! And just ask her if she gives a shite what any of ye blokes think, too!" Still cackling in admiration, Tommy raised his glass in a silent toast.

"I agree with Sergeant Ryan…just cause Miss Rose is built better than most girls and decides to cool down in this heat with a bucket of water…it’s our faults if we can’t be gallant and turn the other cheek!" Private di Rossi enthusiastically joined in on her defense.

A wry grin twitched at the corners of the Yankee Captain’s lips. Raising an amused dark brow at the young private, Jack teasingly prodded, "Built better than most, Private? How would you know?"

"I sees pictures of naked ladies before, Captain Dalton. And none ever came close to what I sees today, no?"

Every man around the table cackled and bellowed in guffaws at the young private’s virginal innocence. No, private…not even close, Jack inwardly grinned. Coming to his feet, Jack jovially slapped Fabrizio on the back and tousled his coal black hair. Walking over to an open window, he braced himself on the ledge and intently listened to her musical laughter floating through the night’s cool spring air. Running and leaping from first one side of the yard and then to the next…her squealing giggles were infectious and he unconsciously smiled at the comical scene. Before long, the entire bunch of Union officers were secretly peering out the opened windows curious about the make believe game of firefly catching. Everyone softly chuckled at the childish antics of the animated enchanting woman and rambunctious boy rolling and jumping to expertly snatch the glowing insects inside the glass jar where they appeared to be dozens of stars magically twinkling and blinking in the April black night.

Suddenly, a protective and concerned Private di Rossi broke the silence of the intermittent Yankee chuckles. "Captain Dalton, you didn’t punish Miss Rose for just getting wet in front of us, did you?"

Speechless…Jack blushed as scarlet as Rose’s hair. Every man in the room turned and cast their superior office a condemning yet amused brow.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, a half leer spread across the handsome Captain’s lips before he intentionally averted his gaze out the window and bit his lip in concentration. Still feeling the wondering stares persistently locked upon him, he roughly bit out, "That’s nobody’s God damned business…but if you feel a need, why don’t you ask the lady?"

After a time, a radiant disheveled Rose breathlessly waltzed back inside the house to a startled and embarrassed audience of Union soldiers. Each guiltily appeared as if they had been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. With grass stains on her elegant satin dress, sticks in her copper hair and dirt smudged across her rosy cheeks, she daintily curtsied and shot each man a wicked teasing wink.

"Gentlemen…pleasant dreams. Perhaps next time we play games, you might obligingly wish to join us?" Rose saucily purred letting her impishly dancing green eyes suggestively run down the length in open invitation of an equally surprised and flushing Yankee Captain.

Chapter Thirteen
Stories