Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1

by Patricia Hagan

  “How bad am I hit?” Travis moved his left hand to his chest and felt the bandage.

  “Clean wound. We got the bleeding stopped, packed you full of lint after filling it with whiskey. You’ll make it. Probably be laid up a few weeks, but the Colonel says there’s a little settlement nearby that our boys have taken over, and we can rest up there for a spell. He’s going to wait for further orders from Grant before moving out.”

  Travis sipped at the coffee, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Damn, what was this brewed out of? I can’t remember the last time I had a decent cup of coffee.”

  John Wright chuckled. “I believe they brewed it from potatoes and parched peanuts. You better hope we get to that settlement. I hear supper is going to be stew.”

  “That’s not so bad.”

  “It is when the meat for it is pulled off a horse so dead that the bones were pulling apart.”

  “Suddenly, the coffee tastes real good and I think it will hold me till we get to town.”

  Travis was lying on a blanket and covered with another, his head resting on a saddle. He looked around and saw that the other men were working on their rifles or playing cards—relaxing after killing twenty-three Rebs.

  “How come you found me?” Travis remembered the night before, when all seemed hopeless. “What were you doing out there and how’d you know where I was?”

  John nodded his head to where his dog lay sleeping, head on his paws. “Killer can track anything that walks, even your horse. I got there just before the Rebs did and I hid and heard them talking. When they said a Yankee had shot one of their men, I figured it was you. I’d heard a couple of shots a ways back.”

  Travis could tell by the way the man was looking at him that something was on his mind. “You had a reason for following me. What was it?”

  He spat again, then looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for quite a spell, Coltrane, ever since Andy Shaw told me about Kitty…and you.”

  Travis sighed, stared up into the branches of the tree above.

  It was a hot day and the sun was blazing everywhere but there in the shade. He had known for quite a while that John Wright was Kitty’s father, even before Andy told him. He knew the day he reported to Colonel Grierson and saw the man with the patch over his eye and the hound dog at his side and heard his soft Southern drawl, not quite as deep as that of the men from Alabama and Georgia, but Southern just the same. He had kept his distance for several reasons. First, he hadn’t wanted to discuss Kitty, and he didn’t figure her father would take kindly to him for having kept her a prisoner of sorts instead of sending her home when he raided Luke Tate’s hide-out.

  He looked back to meet John’s gaze and he couldn’t tell whether or not he was angry. He just looked like a man who had something he wanted to settle. “I knew who you were, Wright, and I had all ideas you knew about me and your daughter,” he said finally.

  John nodded. “I was surprised to see Andy Shaw riding with the Federals, you can be sure of that. I’ve known the boy since he was born. Naturally, I asked him plenty of questions and I felt like he was holding something back. Finally, he had to get it out of him and he told me about Kitty—and about you. At first, I was plenty mad. It hurt like hell to know she was mixed up in this damned war. Sure, I went off and left her and her ma, but a man does what he has to do.”

  “She told me about what happened to you.”

  John didn’t acknowledge the statement but continued. “I was plenty burned up about Luke Tate kidnapping her. I’m no fool. I know why he did it and what he done to her. If I ever meet up with the son of a bitch, one of us will die, you can bet your life on that. But then I got to thinking about how you didn’t send her home. I know she knows plenty about doctoring. Hell, she followed Doc Musgrave around from the time she could walk, almost. But she’s still a woman, a young woman, and you should have sent her home. And she’s also a beautiful young woman and I’ve got my own notions as to why you didn’t.”

  Now Travis could see anger beginning to smolder in the man’s eyes. He started to speak but decided it best at this point to let him have his say.

  “We had a job to do and we did it; and I made up my mind that if I came out of it alive and you did, too, we’d have this talk. I want to know what you did to my girl and where she is now. All Andy knows is what you told him—that she escaped with a Confederate prisoner.”

  Travis nodded. “I don’t know what happened to her, John. She tricked me, made me think she might be falling in love with me. I got careless, gave her too much freedom, and the next thing I knew, she’d helped set free a compound full of Reb prisoners. I could have killed her, had a gun right on her, but she kept on riding. I wound up having to kill one of my own men because he was about to do what I couldn’t.”

  If he had expected sympathy, Travis was in for a surprise. John laughed. “That sounds like my girl. She’s got more spunk than most men. She would’ve kept on riding no matter what if her mind was made up. And I’m not surprised that she tricked you into thinking she loved you. She’s smart, that one.”

  His eyes grew stormy again, and he pointed his finger at Travis. “You better hope she’s alive. You better hope I don’t find out she’s dead. If you’d sent her home when you first found her, she’d be back home in North Carolina where she belongs instead of God only knows where. There’s a war going on now and I turned my back on my people, but I’m not going to turn my back on the army I’ve joined and start shooting at you. But you can believe one thing, when it’s finally over, I’ll settle up with you on the matter of my daughter’s honor. You heed me well, boy.”

  Travis tried to sit up but couldn’t. His head fell back and he took a few deep breaths. He was weak, but he had to say what was burning inside. “John, I’m going to admit to you what I haven’t been able to admit to myself. I did fall in love with your daughter, but right now I could kill her myself for using me the way she did. I guess I thought she’d fallen in love with me, too, but I was dead wrong. Now I didn’t hurt your girl, not the way Luke Tate did, and I’m going to settle a score with him, too, if ever we meet.

  “As for how you feel about me, I can understand your resentment. But if you want to kill me, you do it now. Don’t shoot me in the back in the middle of a skirmish. I’ve got enough on my mind without worrying about another traitor.”

  John snarled at him, “Goddamn you, boy, you better be glad you’re flat on your back wounded, or I’d whip you with my bare hands for calling me a traitor.”

  “You raised one.” Travis grinned. “I figured you two were alike.”

  “You’ll probably have to answer to someone else besides me,” John warned him then. “Kitty was betrothed to someone, and he won’t take kindly…”

  “Nathan Collins,” Travis sneered. “I’ve heard about him from Kitty. I’m not worried. I doubt any of us will ever meet again anyway unless it’s in hell.”

  They were silent for several moments. Then John lifted an eyebrow curiously and asked, “You still love my girl?”

  “The resentment over what she did is too fresh, too bitter, for me to think of much else. Maybe it’s best things turned out like they did. I’m not the marrying kind.”

  “Can’t say as I’d want my daughter marrying your kind anyway.”

  Travis retorted angrily, “What in hell makes you think you can look down on me, Wright? You walked out on your wife and your daughter, never looked back. Andy tells me your wife was turning into a drunk when he left to join the war. Don’t you care?”

  “Man does what he has to.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “I’ll say it again. You’re from the South. How come you’re killing your own kind?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Then don’t pry into mine. Just remember, we’ve got a score to settle one day.”

  “Just let me know when.”

  They glared at each other. John got to his feet. His dog got
up also. They started walking away and Travis called out, “By the way, thanks for saving my life.”

  John kept on walking and Travis closed his eyes wearily. Well, it had finally happened, he thought with some semblance of relief. He had known it would come sooner or later—the time when it would come out about Kitty. Damn Andy Shaw. Why did he have to go and tell John about it anyway? But it was only natural, he supposed. Well, at least he didn’t have to dread anything any time soon. They both knew where the other stood and neither was afraid. Travis had great admiration for John Wright’s courage and bravery. He’d seen him in battle, knew he was every bit the fighter people said he was. But he had a good name, too, he reminded himself. If they ever did have it out, it would be a match all right.

  Someone came to tell him that the Colonel was moving out, and. Travis was grateful. Maybe in the little town they would find a bed for him, a real bed, where he could rest and regain his strength.

  When they moved him, he cried out in pain and the trip into town was rough and uncomfortable. Colonel Grierson came and told him there was a young woman in town who was caring for sick soldiers. The only doctor around had been killed a few weeks before, She agreed to take Travis in and look after him. Her cabin was small and shabby, but there were a few beds. Anything, he figured, was better than sleeping on the ground.

  When Travis first laid eyes on Bonnie Pelham, if he had been a praying man, he would have given thanks right then and there for his good fortune.

  “Just bring him right on in here,” she had said, grinning at the soldiers carrying the stretcher. “I’ll take extra good care of him because my last patient reported back to duty this morning. Less’n some of you get sick, he’ll be all alone here.”

  “Make sure you bastards stay well,” Travis had quipped.

  One of them laughed, saying, “You won’t be up to any action for a while, Captain. And we’ll see to it you have plenty of visitors.”

  Bonnie tucked him into bed and he looked around the room. It was sparsely furnished and smelled of pine wood.

  “You like my little cabin?” she asked as she handed him a cup of fresh cool water. “Me and my husband built it with the help of our neighbors before he went off to war and got himself killed.”

  Travis sipped the water, looked up into her big, brown eyes, and said bluntly, “You don’t sound like a grieving widow.”

  “Oh, you know how it is,” she replied. “You grow up in the mountains and you don’t have much say-so about who you marry up with. It’s mostly always arranged by the old folks. I knew I was gonna have to marry Bill-Bob by the time I was old enough to know what marrying was.”

  “Didn’t you love him?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. I never really knew much about love. I was told a proper girl gets herself proper-married, has babies, and takes care of her husband. That’s what I was aiming to do, but Bill-Bob went off and got himself killed and now I reckon I’m about the youngest widow in the mountains.”

  She walked around the room as she told him how she’d used a mixture of flour and water to paste paper over the boards to keep out the winter chill. In the corner there was an oak chair that her father had carved and a dressing table that her husband had made from cherrywood that had since lost its redness. There was a bench of hickory and propped in one corner, a broom made of hickory splits.

  “See my linen curtains?” Bonnie asked proudly, holding one out for him to view. “I made them from flax I broke myself, and I dyed them myself, too, from blue dye I boiled out of alder bark. I even made that quilt that’s covering you from cotton my daddy grew. And that blanket? My daddy’s got some sheep if you Yankees ain’t butchered them all by now, and me and my momma carded and spun that wool from those sheep and made that blanket. And those sheets you’re lying on? I made them, too. Even stuffed that mattress with feathers I pulled from many an angry goose!”

  Travis suddenly wondered if he should be so thankful for his plight after all. “How come you’re telling me all this?” he asked curiously.

  “Well, I’m a widow-woman now,” she said with the frank honesty of a child. “And I’ve got to get me a husband quick, Poppa says. Poppa says it ain’t proper for me to be keeping men here when I ain’t married to ‘em, even if I am doctoring. I figure maybe some lonesome Yankee will come through here and be right proud to marry up with a widow-woman who can fix up a cabin the way I have this one.”

  “Maybe one will one day.” He closed his eyes and prayed for quick recovery.

  He felt her sitting down beside him on the bed and his eyes flashed open. “I have to check that wound of yours,” she said, as she reached and pulled the bandage away from his side, making a face. “I’ve got to make some salve to go on that. And you’re going to need to rest so’s you won’t start bleeding again.”

  She went and got a jar and spread some foul-smelling paste onto his wound. He winced beneath her painful touch. Then she got some clean linen and made a new bandage.

  “Now then. I’m going to fix you something good to eat. How would you like some chicken stew? I’ve some in the pot cooking, but when those soldiers outside start smelling it, they’re going to be in here.”

  He nodded. She was probably a good cook.

  He was right. The stew was delicious, and it was the best meal he’d had in quite a while. She even brought him fresh milk that was cooling in a nearby mountain stream. He felt stronger already. Maybe it wouldn’t take so long to heal after all.

  She sat on the side of the bed and stared at him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, a bit annoyed. She wasn’t really unattractive, but when she grinned it was more of a grimace.

  “I know how to make a man happy,” she said meaningfully, running her fingertips down the side of his bearded face.

  Then she laughed. “You know, you’re about the handsomest fellow that’s come through here. You got the prettiest eyes. Not really blue, not really gray. And you got a nice body, too.”

  Travis squirmed uncomfortably. “Will you ask Sam Bucher to come in, please? I need to see him.” He knew he had to get her out of there.

  “But I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she said, smiling.

  When she’d gone, Travis looked up at the roof of the log cabin and cursed. He had to get out of here—and soon. What were the orders? Sam would have to find out from Colonel Grierson. He was anxious to get back into the fighting as soon as possible. And maybe he was even anxious to ask questions and find out what he could about Kitty. But that was ridiculous to even think about, he thought, admonishing himself. They would probably never meet again—and maybe it was just as well. He couldn’t be sure of what he would do if they did meet!

  The door to the cabin was kicked open and Sam Bucher walked in, grinning broadly.

  “If I were able, I’d wipe that grin off your ugly face,” Travis snapped.

  “But you ain’t able,” Sam laughed, straddling a chair and leaning his chin on the back of it. “You been fixed up yet? I hear Bonnie knows how to nurse a man back to health.” He laughed again.

  “Sam, you listen to me.” Travis tried to sit up but couldn’t. “You talk to Colonel Grierson and tell him to get me out of here. I’ll sleep on the damn ground, anything, but if I stay here and he doesn’t run that trollop out of town, the whole camp’s going to have the pox.”

  Sam allowed as to how this was possible. “I’ll see what I can do. He’s probably had time to hear as much about her as the rest of us by now. We thought she was some kind of nurse, but when I started hearing from the others how she is, me and the rest of the boys laughed our heads off thinking about you here at her mercy.”

  Travis reached out for the tin cup of water left on the stool by his bed and sent it sailing across the cabin toward Sam, but Sam ducked, still chuckling. “Now don’t be mad at me, old friend. It’s not my fault you’re here, and I’ll do what I can to get you out. Now, is that all you wanted with me? We’re fixing to get
a hot keno game going. Some of the boys found some ‘red-eye’ and we’re going to have ourselves a time tonight.”

  “You can find out what’s happening in the war. I’d like to know where we go from here.”

  “Well, with Lee getting his tail beat at Gettysburg and Pemberton surrendering Vicksburg, I’d say things are looking up for us and down for the Rebs. Lee’s retreated to Virginia and our armies are both holding strong positions on the opposite banks of a river called the Rapidan, waiting for the other side to make the first move. From what I hear, it’s going to be one skirmish after another as we run into Reb patrols.”

  “I just want to get out of here.”

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do…”

  “I just want the damned war to end.”

  “And then what will you do? Go look for Kitty?”

  Travis glared at him. “You know, Sam, you’re my best friend, but you’ve got a way of griping my ass at times.”

  “I’ve got a way of hitting at the truth, old boy, and you know it. You love that girl, and she loves you.”

  “Yeah, well then why did she run away? For all she knows, she left me behind to die. She didn’t know who got shot—me or that other bastard.”

  Travis pursed his lips and waited for an answer to that one. Sam was not long in firing one back at him. “I can’t blame her for escaping when she got the chance. After all, did you ever admit you loved her? Did you two ever do anything besides fence with each other about your real feelings? And don’t forget, she’s a Rebel at heart and she’s a stubborn gal, too. She’s also been through hell, and she was confused and didn’t know what she wanted. Don’t fault her too much. War does strange things to people.”

  Travis scowled. “Just why do you keep insisting I’m in love with her?”