As her husband, Martin was learning the ins and outs of her business investments and finding that he was as good at it as she. They would be good partners in commerce as well as in bed.
The loss of so many good men in Cuba was a constant source of sadness and disgust. Almost two thousand Americans had died in combat and another five thousand were in their graves as a result of the fevers that finally struck both armies with savage ferocity. Nor did the fever respect rank. Hancock had died, along with Benteen and Crooks. Even so, there would still not be openings for a too-young brigadier in a shrunken army. Seniority would again rule.
One result of the devastating disease was that Cuba was virtually unoccupied by the American military. The Cubans had won. The United States had taken Hawaii as a consolation prize and had purchased the Philippines from Spain for a nominal sum. Martin and many others wondered if this had been a wise decision.
“Martin, I did tell you that Ruta and her stable boy lover were coming over this evening, didn’t I?”
Martin guffawed. Haney and Ruta would never commit to being married. They had made that abundantly clear. He had a job allegedly administering her horses. This gave him a cottage on her property and access to the main house anytime they wished and to hell with what anyone else thought.
“Sarah, this is not a bad life. Perhaps we should spend the rest of the day here and make love a few more times.”
“Perhaps indeed,” she said with a smile as she watched the clouds move majestically overhead. The clouds were white and fluffy. There were no storm clouds on the horizon. At least not yet.