by Gina Danna
“Why didn’t I know?”
He picked up her canteen, headed toward the water and he refused to answer her. Edward stood to the side, his soaked wool-covered canteen sweated on his twill pants while he chewed on the long grass blade.
Francois wiped his mouth after another sip and screwed the top back onto her canteen. “I believe you were given hints.”
“Ha!” She stormed away.
“He is vermin, the worse you’ve met. Be thankful you learned before it got worse.” Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized she didn’t want to hear that. He braced for another slap.
“Where the hell are we?”
He chuckled. “Good question. Virginia still, but south of the armies. Out of range, I reckon.”
“Yes, sir. The battle is raging thata way,” Edward added, pointing in the direction from which they’d come.
He nodded.
“And so where we headed then?”
“Gotta find you a way home,” he muttered.
“Home? Pennsylvania? I can’t go there!” She sounded appalled.
“Why not?”
“Because…because…I just can’t. The ride wouldn’t be safe, you can’t escort me and simply leave me there!”
He could see her eyes fill with tears. Problem was, he wasn’t sure what prompted it—her anger and loss of that pompous ass, or a true fear of returning home, yet why would the thought of going home make her beg him not to take her there?
As if to remind them they weren’t far from the war, artillery fire echoed in the distance. Again, Francois took off his battered hat and ran his fingers through the dirty strands of hair on his head.
“Ada, what do you want me to do? If I can’t get you back to your home, where do you want me to take you? I will not leave you out here, with two armies that plan to defeat the other. I can’t return you to your side, because you won’t go.” Now he started to pace.
Ada’s blood was boiling. Had been burning since earlier, when they’d clashed with Richard. Even the thought of him made her anger inch higher. And now this one, who knew, who kept it from her and then exposed him without her having a place to run. Add onto that the slave who killed a soldier and a Rebel who shot and wounded another Federal officer. Just what was she to do?
“You haven’t left me very many options,” she quipped back. “I’ve witnessed too much. Helped, apparently, too much. To return to my side will bring not only imprisonment and perhaps death to you. Edward, here, had a chance as a freedman in the North, but his shooting that Union soldier ended that. I suppose,” her mind churning at the thought, “you could point me in the direction of Pennsylvania and I could try to get there on my own.”
“What?!” Francois roared. “Not for all the saints would I allow that!” He stormed up to her, grabbing her shoulders, staring into her face with fire in his blue eyes. “There’s a war going on out there. You’ve seen the bloody side, but let me tell you about what happens before that. Commanders ordering men forward, cannons loaded, guns primed. When we aim, nothing in our path can cross it without hellfire on it. All horses are taken by both sides, as well as guns, ammunition, food, saddles and anything else. For a lady, alone, to try to pass, even a doctor, you are inviting hell!”
“Well you can’t go!” she snapped back. “You’re not healed enough, even with his concoction on it! And they’d probably shoot you for taking me as well! And as to him,” she pointed to Edward. “I saw his belt buckle. Even I can determine that was stolen from a Yankee, probably a dead one at that. He’s killed a Union soldier while standing by your side, news that will flood the camps as half the men don’t give a hoot about freeing the slaves as a reason for fighting. But you’ve opened up a new conversation and they’d like to be the deciding vote, meaning Edward would be shot. Defending me loses all rights with him by your side.” Now her blood was racing. “So then what? If we can’t go north, where?”
He didn’t answer, which only irritated her more.
“And furthermore,” she spat, spinning on her heel to face him. “Why in the world do you even care about my safety!?”
“Because I love you,” he answered softly.
She glared at him. Despite the somewhat desperate look in his eye, she decided he was just throwing more roadblocks at her, though without telling the truth.
“Harrumph!” She walked away then spun around, a madness breaking through her walled nerves. “You must be mad to think that!”
Was he mad? He must be. Where the hell did those words come from? I love you. Most assuredly, the war was taking a toll on him mentally…
He saw Edward bending to select another piece of grass to chew on, smiling subtly as he did it. Damn slave! Though the man’s infectious grin made Francois snort. This was mayhem at its finest. He’d gone to war to forget Emma and was successful, only to find his heart now beat erratically for another lady. One who could chew him up and spit him out like he was milkweed. The irony made him want to laugh.
Yet, despite all the musings in his head, his heart still beat madly for Ada. While he might be the type of man she saw worth destroying, he couldn’t help that he’d seen her bright side, how she helped everyone with a natural strength and beauty that attracted him, soothed him and filled his heart with joy. He still remembered how she felt, the warmth of her skin, the response to his lovemaking and those heart-stopping kisses… It’d taken till now for him to truly understand just how deep his feelings for her ran. But, did she love him? Could she love a scoundrel who was a Southerner, who owned slaves and fought for the Confederacy?
“Yes, perhaps I am mad,” he answered but as he took a step closer, the need for her bloomed in his heart. He took her hands and pulled her to him hard and fast. “Could you love me? I am what you see. I am not married, but I am a Confederate, I do own slaves, my family is Southern but I do have the money to support us.” He scanned her eyes. “Come with me. And you’ll never regret it.”
She stared hard at him, chewing the inside of her bottom lip, her body rigid and cold, refusing to grasp his hands.
“And what if I don’t return the affection? Then what? You’d leave me in the middle of hell?”
“Ouch, that smarts.” He jerked back to emphasize. “I said I love you. I did not require you to return it just for me to protect you. You won’t let me take you home. I can’t imagine you want to return to that jackanapes, especially when he could easily turn the tables on you again, but this time, by implicating you in the death of that man and the injury to the officer. Hell, he could be dead now, too.” He came back to her. “Here, I do have some pull. It’s my homeland. I have the access to funds, US currency even. My father established several connections around the world through his lifetime. In other words, the options are better with me over dealing with that vermin and the piranhas you have in the Union Army, from what I saw.”
Ada continued to roll her lip between her teeth to the point that it hurt as she considered his offer. He claimed he loved her. It was an irksome admission yet it tugged at her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. Actually, she first thought that was because Richard had hurt her so and her heart still bled at the vast hurt he had caused. But this wasn’t that. She had found herself thinking of Francois during their time apart in winter camp, even though she did her best to lie to herself it wasn’t anything more than caring for a patient. Granted, she’d never slept with a patient either and that was a mark against her, she decided.
Now, he offered to protect her from the beasts he believed would wound her. He was right on the mark for most of it. Returning home was hard because not only Will lived there but so did Richard…and, apparently, his wife. Of course, Waxler was still there, too. Inside, her stomach curdled and her heart ripped another tear. To go back to the Union forces would make her subject to their investigation over the field if it came to light. Everything was making her head pound painfully.
More cannon fire and rifle shots sounded in the distance. The war wasn’t too far away
, and from what she’d gathered in camp, this new commander, Grant, had only one goal and that was to defeat Lee’s army, regardless of the costs. It was those costs, in the terms of wounded, that ate at her soul.
“My duty is to help those soldiers,” she moaned, torn.
“Yes, but as I recall, that call to help didn’t specify only men in blue.”
She glared at him. “So, now you’d throw me in with the traitors?”
He threw his hands into the air and tried to step away, finding a jab of pain reminding him to be careful. “Ada, I don’t know what you want! Talk to me, because the battle is moving this direction.”
Edward sat, leaning against a tree. The black man looked asleep. That irked her to no end. He’d stayed with the Confederate side, killed a man fighting to set his kind free and now, took a nap as she battled with Francois over what to do.
“All right!” she yelled, frustrated at the whole affair. “You’re in no shape to take me anywhere north. He,” she pointed towards Edward, who now gave her a hooded glance. “Proceeds to nap, after he’s killed a man fighting to set him free. And me?” Her vision blurred, burning her anger higher. How dare that man bring her down to this! “Yes, you are correct. I am here to serve. My skills are to help the wounded and dying. The color of the uniform doesn’t make a difference.”
Francois’s lips curled slightly and if he did smile broadly, she’d get on his horse and leave him! Perhaps he heard her thoughts, and stopped the smile. His brilliant blue gaze sparkled but the rest of him was deadly straight.
“Good.”
“Sir,” Edward called, standing upright, yanking the milkweed out of his mouth. “Considerin’ what is happenin’, I see a lot of fire, hell is rolling through the land. Both sides won’t be counting on us, if we ain’t there.” His brows shot up. He was suggesting they not return.
Francois stood, thinking. “I think you are right.” He took a few steps till he got the twinge in his ankle and stopped. “Many out in that field are dead and burned.”
“Most not able to tell friend or foe,” the slave added.
“True. It’d take days to try to figure it out, that is, if this battle ever wanes.” He glanced at Ada. She sat on a tree stump, toying with her skirt, an absent look on her face. It was a look he’d seen often on the faces of men unsure of their next step in this mess. He hadn’t viewed it on hers, her mission so clear cut that was until she’d met him, he decided.
“Did they know you went looking for casualties?”
She nodded. “Took a hospital steward with me but lost him in the journey.” She snorted, which turned into a twisted laugh. “So, my body might be part of that burned wreckage, too, because I doubt Richard would relate it was me there with him and you during that gunfire. Will, Dr. Leonard, has never liked him and would probably bring charges against him for losing me to you.”
Francois couldn’t help but smile. He strongly doubted Leonard wanted her with Richard. Himself, perhaps, but…
“A perfect point for revenge, my love, but now isn’t the time for such contrivances. Let’s mount and head toward the southwest.”
Edward brought Rose to them and the mare waited for them to mount with the slave taking the lead. Francois felt her body melt against his back and he relished in the moment. He’d take her South, perhaps home and they’d figure from there. All he knew was his heart swelled with joy to have his love with him.
The question was – would she ever love him?
Chapter 39
“I see no prospects of peace for a long time. The Yankees can’t whip us and we can never whip them.”
—Confederate soldier’s comment, after Stone’s River Battle, December 30, 1862
A week later…
* * *
What she wouldn’t give for a bath!
The last six days had been a walk and duck game as they’d plodded southward. They managed through the countryside, sleeping in ruins of once great mansions, now long deserted by their owners. The remains of their estates and ravaged crops pillared their trail. Water was ready to find, though she could barely swallow some of the murky liquid pillaged by animal droppings, dead carcasses and fallen timbers, leaving her thirsty and cranky. The two men had finished sharing their remaining foodstuffs, which accounted for nothing due to the Confederacy’s lack of supplies.
Ada’s mood swung downward and threatened to explode, but anytime she thought of leaving, she found there was really nowhere to go. Better to travel in numbers, the men reminded her, than disappearing at the hands of the minions traipsing around the fields and towns. Besides, what did she have to go home to? Richard? He’d lied to her and he didn’t have anything to say when she’d confronted him.
So, she picked up the pieces of her heart and ran, as it were. Only problem with that was Francois. His role as savior was deflated when he told her he loved her. Love. She still shook over it. She sat next to him a few times on the back of the horse and the comfort against her was relaxing and exciting and like home. It confused her so she pushed it from her mind, deciding all this was too overwhelming.
Plus the War kept showing up everywhere they went. She laughed. Of course, it did. She still had her nurse’s outfit on, minus the apron, and it looked rather ragged. Just like Francois’s outfit… She closed her eyes, trying to block the sunlight that was trying to force her to see the truth about them when she did everything in her power not to.
Inhaling deeply, she placed her mask of indifference back on and turned to face him.
“So where are we today?”
Francois and Edward were next to the mare they rode. Edward lowered the mare’s hoof while a concerned Francois looked on. Both glanced at her.
“Middle Tennessee I reckon,” Francois answered. “Hard to tell after a while, considering how the land is so badly beaten all along the south.” He spat to the ground.
Ada couldn’t help but smile. Her refined secessionist now sported a rough beard and hints of a mustache. It was more than the whiskers that had appeared a few days ago. Edward refused to let his grow, using his bowie knife to keep his head shaved as well as his cheeks. At first, she wondered why Francois allowed his to grow but the man stated he plainly didn’t think the black man would let him use the knife, then the two men laughed. She failed to get their humor, so dropped the question.
The last four days had been hard. They might have escaped the war in Virginia, but he was right—traces were everywhere. Remains of burned homes, torn railway ties with some bent in odd twists, which both men agreed were ‘Sherman’s neckties’—a telltale sign of Union General William T Sherman’s campaign through the South to take Atlanta and then upward into the Carolinas, but to her, they were signs of the devil. She noticed the black man’s brows shot up at the sight, while Francois grew more and more agitated at the Federals with every step they took that showed the destruction of the South.
She did cringe at each sight, a shudder that didn’t fade easily anymore. Shaking her head, she got up off her makeshift chair and asked, “So is Rose okay?”
“She’ll be fine, if we all walk for a spell.” Edward spat to the ground and patted the horse’s side.
Ada gulped. Walking would take them forever to get to… mentally she paused. “So we’ll be walking to where?”
Francois couldn’t help but snort. “Good question. Thinking the route we’re on now will take us back to Louis’ana. Home.”
She stopped. “Why would I want to go there?”
Francois stopped, his own thoughts questioning him the same. Why did he want to go back? And drag her with him? Edward hadn’t questioned, so Francois guessed he was from there, a rather rude presumption, he gathered, but it was what it was, since his owner was part of the Tigers. In reality, he hadn’t really planned to return, yet that was the direction they were taking.
Did he want to return? To see Emma, with her baby and Jack? Memories of their smiling faces, hers especially, used to drive a spike into his heart. Now, at the wis
p of the memory, it was a dull heartache, annoying but livable. Had the War done that? Or Ada?
“Wasn’t exactly what I planned when we left the battlefield, but it is familiar.” He shrugged. “Even if they thought we were alive, it’d take more than a whim to get soldiers out west to look for me or you or even Edward, so it’s safe ground for all of us.”
Now, she was pacing. That was a somewhat irksome trait of hers, he mulled.
“I can’t go there. I mean,” she stopped and glared at him. “Why would you want to take an abolitionist home to your slave-owning plantation?”
Her snarl at the end was sharp. “I wasn’t thinking that way. Look, doctors have been scarce since the War began. You might find some place that’d let you practice.”
She didn’t say anything, just concentrated more on lifting her skirts as she walked over the terrain. “Surprised you didn’t suggest you could marry me, considering.”
That stab he should’ve expected. He’d made his declaration on his feelings, yet through this trip, he’d left her alone. Considering she hadn’t replied the same, he figured she wanted him nowhere close. So he kept a distance, even though it was eating him up inside. With her asleep on the saddle blanket and his coat, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“I would love it if you married me.”
She frowned but laughed. “I should think not.”
He wanted to fume but he stomped that fuel down and did his best to give her a hurt expression. “Oh, madam, how you wound the heart.”
She laughed. The sound of joy actually rekindled his heart.
Edward had moved ahead to scout but now came back at a somewhat hurried step, his face void.
“Sergeant, you might wanna come see. You, too, missy.”
Puzzled, Francois murmured for Ada to stay just behind him as he pulled out his LaMott and checked the cartridge. “Lead the way.”
