Within minutes she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves striking the rocks as it approached from below. Too tired to move, she closed her eyes and prayed it was not one of the enemy.
“Thanks for being our decoy,” a voice from above her said. “I owe you one.”
Andrea smiled as she raised her head and stared into the blue eyes of Daniel Delaney, but she was too weary to set the record straight on who was in debt to whom.
Delaney crossed his hands over his pommel and gazed down at her. “You look a bit weary. How about joining us at camp? It’s not far from here.” Dismounting and extending a gauntleted hand, he helped Andrea to her feet.
“I appreciate the invitation, Colonel, but I’m already behind schedule. I should get moving.”
“Nonsense.” He cut her off. “You can’t possibly be thinking about riding out now. It’s too dangerous with Hunter’s men around, and I would feel responsible.” His voice was persuasive and filled with brotherly compassion. “Anyway, a hot meal and a good night’s sleep will do you good.”
Andrea preferred to move on, but her exhausted body told her she should rest. Coupled with the fact that her ankle throbbed and she was too tired to come up with a rebuttal, she nodded her head.
“Are you injured?” Delaney’s tone was laced with concern as she limped over to Justus.
“Only a sprain. I’m all right.”
Without giving her a chance to mount by herself, Delaney lifted her into the saddle and then climbed onto his own horse. “Wherever did you get that beast?” he asked, after they had ridden a short distance. “He looks as powerful as a locomotive, and nearly as fast.”
“I’ve had him since he was a foal.” Andrea did not bother to say more. She didn’t think it wise to tell him she had stolen him from her father’s stable in South Carolina.
“Does he know how to walk?”
“This is his walk,” she replied nonchalantly. “He has two other gaits. Fast and faster.”
Andrea smiled shyly at Delaney’s look of surprise, and then they both began to laugh. From that moment on, Andrea felt at ease with Daniel Delaney, and understood why J.J. cherished him as a friend.
Chapter 12
It is a mistake to look too far ahead. Only one link of the chain of destiny can be handled at a time.
– Winston Churchill
The Union encampment was situated in a small vale between two hills, bordered by a small gurgling creek to the east and a picturesque view of the Blue Ridge Mountains to the west. After dinner a small continent of men retired to a large table under a tree, and amused Andrea with stories and gossip. No one questioned her presence and, to her knowledge, no explanation was given. She was simply accepted as one of them, and immediately felt at home.
As the night wore on, Andrea found herself studying the colonel’s face in the soft light. Dark complexioned and strikingly handsome, he did not appear at all like the grave and stern officer she’d first hailed. Something about him made her feel safe…a calmness and a courteousness that conveyed a man with firm upbringing. And though he appeared strong and commanding in his role as an officer, there was something reckless and boyish in the way his blue eyes twinkled.
It was late before the other men retired, but despite her weariness, Andrea waited until the last one departed. When at last they were alone, she asked the question she’d been burning to ask all night.
“I understand you are looking for a contact in Richmond,” she said casually.
Daniel stared at her, showing surprise at first, but then acquiring the same thoughtful gaze J.J. had. He cocked his head to the side. “Colonel Jordan told you about Richmond?”
Andrea grinned. “N-not exactly. I…overheard a conversation.”
Daniel put his head back and laughed. “Ah-ha. I see.” He winked at her, but gave Andrea little time to analyze the response. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he became all business. “You would be interested in such a position?” He talked in a hushed tone with his blue eyes assessing her closely.
Andrea nodded earnestly. “I was born in South Carolina and schooled in Richmond.”
“Is that so? I did not detect your accent.”
“I was tutored in speech and diction before the wah, suh. I’ll have no problem adaptin’ to Vah-ginia.”
Daniel laughed and leaned back. “It would be extremely dangerous nonetheless.”
“I understand.”
“Colonel Jordan is comfortable with you accepting the assignment?”
Andrea began to answer yes, but stopped mid-breath when she looked into Daniel’s honest eyes. “N-not exactly. I believe he wished to confer with you first.”
“Well, I’ll have to think about it.” He stood up and brushed off his coat. “Colonel Jordan implied he had something to discuss with me, but it will have to wait. At any rate, it’s late. You must be exhausted.”
Andrea sighed and nodded.
“Next time you’ll have to tell me about yourself. I’m afraid I bored you with talk about me and my men all night,” he said, helping her to her feet.
“I was not bored in the least.” Andrea looked up and met his gaze. “As for me—it’s a long story.”
“It’s funny,” he said in a soft, serious tone, “but I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, Sinclair.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and studied her. “Yet I know nothing at all about you, not even your real name.”
His words caught Andrea off guard. A part of her felt bewildered, ready to run. Yet another part found comfort in his eyes, a feeling she could tell this man anything—and perhaps everything. She cleared her throat and tried to suppress the emotions raging within her. “I’m sorry, but it’s been a long day…”
“Yes, of course.” Daniel quickly removed his hands and led her toward another section of the small encampment. “I apologize for keeping you up so late. You must be exhausted.”
“I am…but there is one more thing I’d like to ask, if I may?”
“Of course.” Daniel stepped closer. “What would you like to know?”
“When I, when we, were being attacked, you called the Confederate officer by his given name, Alex. Are you acquainted?” Even in the dim light, Andrea detected the shadow that fell across his face.
“Yes, I know him very well.” His voice was almost a whisper, and he averted his gaze. When he looked back, a somberness that had not been there before filled his eyes. “But that’s the way of this war, isn’t it?” He said nothing more, just tipped his hat respectfully and disappeared into the darkness.
Andrea was exhausted, but instead of falling instantly to dreamland as she had anticipated, she lay awake thinking about the gallant Colonel Delaney. It seemed strange how comfortable she felt in his company, how perfectly at ease she was when in his presence.
Although she lived, ate, and slept around men every day, they were simply friends and comrades, nothing more. But this one’s indescribable charm made him somehow different. He seemed so gentle, kind, tenderhearted—the complete opposite of the infamous Captain Hunter. Andrea shuddered at the thought.
Yet when she did finally drift off to sleep, it was Captain Hunter’s piercing gray eyes she saw in her dreams, not Colonel Delaney’s sparking blue ones.
Chapter 13
A faith that shines more bright and clear when tempests rage without. That, when in danger knows no fear, in darkness knows no doubt.
– Hymn from Nurse and Spy
The rider was being cautious.
Captain Hunter watched the young boy’s head move back and forth as he scanned the path in front of him, even drawing his horse to a stop and listening before proceeding again. It had been less than a week since this rider had escaped his clutches. The feat would not be repeated again.
Even though the darkness of the night favored Hunter and his men, he knew the dawn would soon be breaking. His men were aware of it too. Their feverish anticipation was palpable as they strained like hounds on a leash, waiting for his order to attack.
Keeping a sharp keen eye on the duo, Hunter soaked in every facet of their appearance. The rider, though long-legged, appeared small in stature on the well-built horse. Yet which was horse and which was rider? They appeared to move in perfect unison, as if the horse was an extension of the being upon his back.
Though Hunter and his men were positioned about fifty yards up a hill, the rider was following a path that would lead him directly in front of them. Half of Hunter’s men would charge down the hill behind the rider and the other half would move to the front, obstructing three directions of escape.
Hunter squeezed his pistol a little harder, but doubted that any shooting would be necessary. The noise of his men and the surprise of the attack usually left the enemy incapable of flight.
A slight smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he allowed himself to envision the end result. This tormenting Yankee would soon be eliminated, and he could spend his precious resources on more important endeavors. How this mere lad had slipped through his fingers before was a mystery—but it wouldn’t happen again.
It couldn’t. This little game of cat and mouse had gotten personal. Hunter’s reputation was at stake. Over the past few months, this elusive scoundrel had become a burr under Hunter’s saddle, but he intended to remove it tonight.
With his bare hands if necessary.
Suddenly the horse below him came to an abrupt halt. Hunter held his breath. Had someone moved? Made a sound?
He would never know. The rider wheeled the horse to his left and, before anyone could react, disappeared into the darkness and the trees. Hunter and his men took off at a dead run down the hill in hot pursuit.
* * *
Andrea knew without looking the ownership and intent of the pursuing steeds, and she knew she was on the wrong side of the Potomac to allow them to overtake her. She had ignored her suspicion of danger too long. Not until she saw a gun wink in the moonlight did she realize how close the threat. Now the rush of hostile hooves and the sound of the rapid advance of vicious foes made her appreciate the precariousness of her situation. She urged Justus to an even greater pace, bent forward over his neck as if from the pursuit of death—which she had the feeling was closing in behind her.
Throwing an anxious glance over her shoulder at the eastern sky, Andrea feared the sun would soon become an enemy as well. Already the stars were losing their luster, and she could make out a slice of pink beginning to pierce the darkness.
If she’d not taken that detour, she’d be across the river and safe by now. Instead, she faced two conspiring forces—the enemy and daylight. She had to figure out how to elude the one and use the other. Should she double back? Try to outrun them? Hide?
Andrea instantly discarded those ideas and searched her mind for another. She did not want to get any farther away from the Potomac than she already was. As soon as daylight spread, it would be impossible to elude them. The river meant safety, and that is where she must go.
Vaguely Andrea remembered a small farmhouse that sat a short distance from the water’s edge. If she could just make it there, she might have a chance. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see nothing in the darkness, but she could hear the increasing thundering of riders closing in behind her.
Turning a little to the left, Andrea’s heart leaped with exultation at the sight of the dim shadow of the house only a few hundred yards away. Urging Justus even faster, she jumped out of the saddle before he had even stopped, led him up the three porch steps and shoved the door open with her shoulder.
“Anybody home?” She didn’t think the home was occupied, but neither did she wait for an invitation. She barged in and began pulling items out of her saddlebag with one hand while removing her coat with the other. Slipping the cotton gown Catherine had given her just yesterday over her head, she adjusted it quickly and then scanned the dimly lit room. A dirty-looking blanket lay draped over the back of a chair next to an overturned table. She grabbed the covering—and her gun from the saddle—and ran out onto the porch, still adjusting the gown over her clothes. Please stand still, Justus. And don’t whinny.
Although she could discern nothing in the gray dawn, the sound of approaching hoofbeats was unmistakable. Hurriedly she threw the blanket over her head and shoulders like a shawl and plopped down on a rickety rocking chair that she hoped would hold her weight. For security’s sake, she cocked her gun, though she knew using it would be futile.
She barely had time to get her breathing back to normal before a dozen riders reined their horses to a sliding stop in front her.
“Hey, old woman,” one of the men yelled. Andrea’s head was bent forward as if she were sleeping. “Wake up, you old hag.” He banged his revolver on the porch post to get her attention. Nice manners.
“You seen a rider?” he asked, when Andrea raised her head with a start.
Andrea’s gaze fell on Captain Hunter, who was walking his horse around in a circle, studying the hoofprints. Luckily for her, they had destroyed those of Justus in their haste.
“Naw, too early for cider,” Andrea said in a slow, deliberate Southern drawl.
“Rider! Rider! You seen a rider come through here!” he bellowed.
“Oh….a rider,” Andrea answered, slowly again, trying to make her voice sound husky and hoarse. “Shur was in a hurry.”
“Where did he go you danged old bat!”
The man, Andrea decided, had little respect for his elders.
“He told me to tell you he went thata way.” Andrea pointed toward the river, while a dozen men’s eyes followed the direction of her finger. “But he really went thata way.” She swung her arm over to the opposite direction—and again the riders’ heads followed. “Said he was gonna swing around and go thata way.” She indicated the direction from which they had just come.
By this time, they were looking at each other in confusion. Even Hunter twisted in his saddle to look over his shoulder, as if trying to figure out which direction to turn. He appeared more than a little suspicious, but an intense desire to catch his nemesis apparently overwhelmed any hesitancy or doubt.
Making a hasty decision he barked orders to his men. “Gus, you take Jacobs and Cooper, double back and then swing to the west. The rest of you follow me.”
The group took off toward the tree line just as she had hoped…ignoring the river and her getaway route.
Andrea did not even wait for them to disappear. She headed back into the house, grabbed Justus, and hopped on as he headed out the door. She wasn’t sure how long she would fool the Confederate officer. She hoped long enough to make it to the river.
With just enough light to make out obstacles now, Justus flew across the ground as if winged. Andrea ripped the dress off over her head as she rode and allowed it to tumble to the ground behind her. She smiled at the thought that she’d used another of her enemy’s tactics successfully against him—hiding in plain sight.
But when Andrea made it to the river’s edge, she realized she had another problem to solve. The water before her looked dark and menacing; the banks steep and precarious. This did not appear to be an advantageous place to ford.
A voice suddenly challenged her from the far bank.
“Halt! Identify!”
“I need to cross,” Andrea yelled back.
“The ford is farther down.” The sentry fired a shot in the air, providing a distinct indication of the welcome that awaited her. Meanwhile, she heard hoofbeats closing in from behind her now, a warning of the greeting she was soon going to receive on this one.
She gulped air in desperation as she looked behind her and then stared in front of her. The gunshot had no doubt alerted Hunter’s men to her location. She didn’t have time to come up with another plan.
“Confound it!” Backing Justus up a few paces, she spurred him forward into a flying leap. “Any place is a ford at a time like this.”
Justus plunged into the water and began half swimming, half walking across, leaping up and down out of the water when his legs could not make purchase with the rocky bottom.
“There’s a Confederate cavalry right behind me,” Andrea yelled to the picket between gasps of air.
“I don’t see no cavalry,” the picket on the other side yelled back. “Halt and identify!”
He had no sooner uttered the words when a shot rang out from behind, and the water around Andrea sprayed.
Andrea laid low over Justus’ neck and urged him forward. Realizing their mistake, the pickets began to cover her crossing by returning the gunfire. But as soon as Justus scrambled up the opposite bank, they surrounded her, still not sure of her motives or intentions.
“Where might I find Colonel Jordan?” Andrea felt a throb of pain in ankle again now that the adrenalin was wearing off.
“And just who might you be?” one of the sentries asked, suspiciously.
Andrea began to pull out the pass that Colonel Delaney had given her. “I’m Sinclair…reporting—”
“You don’t say!” one of the men interrupted her.
Andrea blinked. “Yes…I do.”
“Glad to know ya,” the man held out his hand. “You look a mite young to have a bounty on your head.”
Andrea gulped. “Bounty?”
“I hear Hunter’s men got up a reward for your capture.”
Another one of the men rode up and hit her squarely on the back in fun. “Well not capture exactly, Jed. Seems like they’d prefer him dead to alive.”
Andrea glanced back toward the river where sporadic gunfire was still being exchanged.
She swallowed hard again, then spoke in a loud, clear voice that did not betray the fear that chilled her to the bone.
“That bunch of bushwhackers will get a reward over my dead body.”
The men were silent for a moment and then erupted in riotous laughter.
“That’s right, Sinclair. That’s right. Over your dead body.”
Duty Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
