by Cathy Peper
“I don’t know if I can make it that far and even if I can, I would only slow you down. You should go on or take your chances with the Union troops. I don’t think they’ll hurt you.”
He was probably right. It was early in the war, before years of fighting created feelings of bitter enmity. They would have their hands full with hundreds—thousands?—of Confederate prisoners of war. They should leave her alone. But would they help her? Probably not. They had more important things to worry about.
But this earnest young man? She thought he might help her if he could. And if she had really traveled to 1862, he was her only acquaintance in a strange world. Not to mention, handsome. Not that it mattered.
“If I help you get to Reelfoot Lake, will you help me find the people I’m looking for?” There was another explosion from the direction of the river and she flinched. Jesse held steady, perhaps used to constant bombardment. But it shadowed his deep blue eyes with worry or fatigue. Possibly both.
“I’m a soldier under orders. I have to get to Tiptonville.”
“You’re wounded and can’t keep up. Besides, isn’t it your duty to avoid capture?”
He tipped his head to one side and a small smile curved his lips. “You’re quite argumentative for a woman.”
Not again. Diamond sighed. Men from her time found her too aggressive. She’d have to dial it down several notches if she wanted a nineteenth-century man to accept her. “Sorry, it’s been a rough couple of days. For you, too, I expect. Let’s just get going and we can argue about it later.”
Looking slightly bemused, Jesse allowed her to slip her left arm around his waist. He placed his right arm over her shoulders and they hobbled away from the river.
“Even if we make it, I might not be able to help you. I can’t desert.”
“But you’ll try, right?” Diamond stopped and looked up into his ocean blue eyes. She felt she could drown in them. “You’ll do your best, whether that means coming with me yourself or asking your commander for assistance?”
“Yes, I’ll help you if I can.”
“Good. Now let’s get going. Do you have a compass?” Diamond carried a lot in her stake-out bag, but relied on her GPS for directions. She may have used a compass back in her Girl Scout days, but she was rusty on how to read one. She hoped Jesse would remain coherent enough to guide them to the lake.
“No, but I can get us there.”
If you remain conscious. Diamond bit her lip and kept silent. No sense stirring up trouble. As capable as she was back home, she didn’t feel up to navigating a war-torn nineteenth-century America on her own. Jesse was the best chance she had of tracking down Anne and her time-traveling boyfriend. And strangely enough, she was the best chance he had of avoiding a Union prison.
They headed east for what seemed like forever to Diamond’s aching muscles. She should have kept going to the gym rather than falling off her New Year’s Resolution to get in shape around the third week in January. They walked through the woods, tripping over tree roots and fallen branches. Jesse seemed mostly out of it, so Diamond monitored the sun, trying to head southeast. She backtracked over ground she’d already covered, resenting every foot.
Jesse had not leaned too heavily on her at the start, but as the morning wore on he needed more and more support. At least she wasn’t cold anymore. The exercise and the heat radiating from Jesse’s body kept the chill at bay. However, her stomach clenched with hunger, the energy bar she had eaten a distant memory.
At last she stopped, lowered Jesse to the ground, and slumped beside him. “I’ve got to rest and get something to eat.” She wondered how much farther they had to go and how far she had initially been from the lake when she had awakened to this nightmare. She no longer tried to convince herself that she was crazy or dealing with a hard-core group of re-enactors. In her gut, she knew she really was in the nineteenth century. “How are you hanging in there?”
Jesse frowned. His face was pale, but his cheeks bloomed red with fever. “You speak strangely. Where did you say you were from?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he doubled over coughing.
That doesn’t sound good. He burned with fever and for all she knew, might have pneumonia. People died from pneumonia even in the twenty-first century. He needed to get someplace warm and safe where he could recover. An antibiotic would sure come in handy too.
He finally stopped coughing and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Well?” His cloudy gaze had sharpened and a spark of humor lurked within.
What had he asked her? Diamond shook her head and temporarily shelved her worry for him. He wanted to know where she was from and she supposed there was no reason she couldn’t tell the truth. “Memphis.”
“I thought I heard a hint of the South in your voice.”
“And here I thought all my hard work trying to get rid of my accent had paid off.”
“Wanting to blend in up north?”
She could hardly tell him she had wanted to increase her chances of being picked up by one of the bigger TV stations. “Something like that. What about you? Where do you call home?”
“Southeast Missouri, close to New Madrid.”
“And you fight for the Confederacy? Why not the Union?”
“Sounds like you favor the Union. Were you lying earlier when you claimed to be neutral? Don’t worry, I wouldn’t blame you if you did, faced with a smattering of Confederate troops.”
“If I favored the Union, why would I be helping you?”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to get your dander up.”
“I’m not mad, just hungry and exhausted.”
“I have rations.” He slipped the strap of his haversack over his head. “Johnnycakes and apples.”
Diamond wasn’t sure what a Johnnycake was, but she was hungry enough to eat anything. Jesse leaned back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes, so she unbuckled the pouch and opened it to find a few apples, several pieces of lumpy, golden bread and a packet of foul-smelling meat along with some other items. She grabbed an apple and a piece of the yellow bread, presumably a Johnnycake.
The apple was small and misshapen compared to what she was used to seeing at the supermarket, but tasted like heaven. The cake resembled cornbread, but was dry as dust and difficult to swallow.
“Here.” Jesse handed her his canteen.
Diamond gave it a look. Made of wood, with a cork in the spout, she distrusted it on sight. She still had a bottle of water in her backpack, but she couldn’t pull it out without Jesse noticing. Besides, if she was going to be here for a while, she had to drink the water, eventually. Hoping she wouldn’t catch Jesse’s illness, she pried out the cork and tipped the canteen up to her mouth. The liquid slid down her throat, washing down the Johnnycake and soothing her parched membranes. Although she wanted to drain the whole container, she allowed herself only a few mouthfuls. “Want an apple?”
Jesse shook his head. “Not hungry. Thirsty.”
She passed him the canteen, and he also restricted himself to a few swallows. “We have to get going.”
Diamond wasn’t sure she had the strength to stand. “Surely we’ve come far enough to evade the Union soldiers.”
“Maybe for today. But they’ll be looking for stragglers.”
Stifling a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and offered him a hand.
“You go on ahead. I’m only slowing you down.”
“Nice try, but if I have to move, so do you.”
“You can make it on your own. I’ll be fine. The Yanks will find me and fix me up.”
Maybe, if she had left him on the main road. Not here, in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps she hadn’t done him any favors. “If that’s the Rebel attitude no wonder you guys lost the war.”
“Lost the war?” Gripping the tree, he pulled himself upright. “Losing Island #10 is a major blow, but it doesn’t mean defeat. Our troops are winning back East.”
“Really? Tell me more.” Diamond slid her arm around his waist and struck out hea
ding east. She should probably be more careful about what she said, but she didn’t think he would remember much of their conversation. Besides, she couldn’t bear to tell him he was fighting a lost cause.
Five
Chapter 5
Jesse proved a harsher taskmaster than Diamond’s sophomore gym teacher, who had almost kicked her adolescent butt into shape. Despite burning with fever and seemingly oblivious to most of what was going on around them, he insisted they keep moving forward, one painful step after another.
Diamond hoped they were going the right way. She’d never attempted to navigate by the sun before. But only when the sun began to dip below the horizon did Jesse allow them to stop.
“We’ll set up camp here,” he said, sliding his gear off his back. “I’ve got a tent and a blanket. I know it isn’t proper, but I promise to behave like a perfect gentleman. You need have no concern for your virtue.”
He’s blushing! Diamond watched in amazement as the feverish color in his cheeks deepened. Here they were, lost in the Tennessee wilderness, hunted by Union soldiers, and low on supplies, and he worried about her virtue. Would he worry if he knew that by nineteenth-century standards she was already ruined? “I trust you.”
He smiled. “Not sure I’d be much of a threat, anyway.”
“You said it, not me. I didn’t want to damage your ego.”
“Not sure what an ego is, but I don’t think I can survive much more damage right now.”
Another slip of the tongue. Freud had not yet invented his theory of the Id, Ego, and Superego. She wasn’t even sure if he’d been born yet. And she wasn’t a psychologist. She didn’t want to explain a complex psychological theory to a man on the verge of collapse. “I was referring to your masculine pride.”
“Already dented, I’m afraid. You’ve done so much already, but I’ll need your help to put up the tent.”
“Sure, as long as you can talk me through it.”
He pulled a folded piece of canvas from his pack. “We’ll need a ridge pole and two fork-shaped branches to hold it. Think you can find those?”
Diamond stared at the wad of off-white material. “It doesn’t come with poles?”
“I had to leave them behind when we fled from New Madrid. I’m lucky I got away with most of my gear. Some of my men escaped with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.”
So Jesse had been at New Madrid when it fell in addition to Island #10. He wasn’t having the best year, but then neither was she. She’d tracked down the story of a lifetime, but had no way to tell it. “I’ll see what I can find.” She dug around in her backpack for her multi-tool and slipped it in her pocket. Jesse sat with his eyes closed, leaning on his pack. With one last glance at his drawn, but attractive, features, she headed into the woods.
The area was greening up. Small buds dotted the trees, and the dogwoods were blooming, filling the air with their sweet scent. If she hadn’t been ravenous, dead tired, and sick with worry, Diamond might have enjoyed the pretty, white flowers and the peace of the woods. The battle sounds had faded. Either the fighting was over or they were too far away to hear it. Despite Jesse’s fears, she wasn’t concerned about the Union Army. The Yankees had more important things to worry about than one wounded Confederate soldier and a non-partisan civilian.
But every hour that passed allowed Bob and Anne to get farther away. How was she ever going to find them in a time without the Internet, TV or even radio? No one had social security numbers here. The government couldn’t track everyone, though she supposed they did their best. Later in the war, there would be a draft, on both sides, so they must keep track of people somehow. She wanted to be long gone by the time the draft went into effect and Bob and Anne were her only chance to get home.
She worried about Jesse, too. For all his determination, he was seriously ill. She needed to get home, but she didn’t want to abandon him. He was a good man. She’d told him the truth when she said she trusted him. She barely knew the man and considered herself to be reasonably cautious, but even if he’d been at full strength, she couldn’t imagine him trying to rape her. Seduction, maybe, but she doubted even that. He seemed the type who would court a woman and not just because he lived in Victorian times. It was why she didn’t feel she could walk away even though he’d suggested she do so. Especially because he’d suggested it.
Her colleagues back at the station would laugh. She preferred to work alone and her boss always dinged her in her annual reviews for not being a team player. Jesse captivated her and not just because of his looks. The anchorman at her station was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome type, but also a total jerk. She never gave him a second glance. But she had no time to moon over boys like a silly teenage girl. Their survival depended on her almost nonexistent outdoor skills.
Finding a ridge pole proved easier than finding two sticks with fork-like ends. As the shadows lengthened, she grew desperate. She’d found one piece of deadwood that might work, but nothing else on the ground fit the requirements.
“Time to see if this really works,” she muttered, pulling the multi-tool from her pocket. Her ex-boyfriend, Brett, had given it to her for her birthday and she’d done nothing to hide her unenthusiastic reaction. He’d gotten angry and her birthday had gone downhill from there—just as their relationship had months later. Who would have guessed that one day she’d be grateful to have the manly gadget? If she ever saw Brett again, she owed him an apology.
No, the day he broke her wrist canceled any debt she owed him.
Still, she was grateful for the tool. The saw attachment was small, but sharp. It took some elbow grease, but she sliced through a Y shaped branch. Gathering her three sticks, she hurried back to Jesse. Not wanting to get lost, she hadn’t gone far, but it had taken her a while to find suitable candidates and he had fallen asleep, his head resting on his rolled-up blanket. She hated to wake him, but could never put up this so-called tent without his help.
“Jesse.” She shook his shoulder. “Wake up. I need your help.” When he didn’t respond, she shook harder.
His eyes opened and he gazed at her without recognition.
“I found the sticks,” she said. “What’s the next step?”
He blinked, then sat up. The movement caused a coughing fit. Once he caught his breath, he told her to dig two holes. “Plant the two forked sticks and support the ridge between them. Like this.” He pulled out a pocketknife and began scraping a hole in the dirt.
Diamond placed one end of the ridgepole next to Jesse and knelt by the other end. Choosing the largest blade from her multi-tool, she copied his actions. After securing the uprights, they set the pole in the slots and draped the canvas over it. They stretched the material into a triangle shape and secured it with pegs hammered into the ground. Jesse laid his blanket beneath their crude shelter.
“I don’t think we should chance a fire.”
A fire sounded nice, but she wasn’t sure she could build one, so she didn’t argue.
“That means cold rations again. No salt pork.”
Recalling the strong-smelling pack of mystery meat, Diamond decided that wasn’t such a bad thing. She took a bite of apple. “You should try to eat something, too.”
Jesse reached for a Johnnycake and nibbled at it. They washed the meager meal down with water from Jesse’s canteen.
“We will reach the lake tomorrow and can refill it,” Jesse said, perhaps sensing Diamond’s anxiety.
Drink water straight from the lake? She forced a smile. What other choice did they have? She hoped they would find the rafts, but the lake was several miles long.
“We’d better turn in.” Jesse’s voice sounded strained.
“It’s a little awkward, isn’t it?” Diamond saw no reason to ignore the elephant in the room… or the tent, in this case. “Think of me as a fellow soldier.”
“I’ve heard tales of women disguising themselves as men and joining the army. I thought you were one of them when I first saw you, although I
knew you were a girl.”
“Because of how I’m dressed?” Although many people had accused her of acting like a man, no one had ever said she dressed like one. “It’s more practical to wear, um, trousers, than long skirts.”
“And you’re a practical young woman.”
He made it sound like a compliment. Usually men found her straightforwardness something to mock or fear. “Exactly. So we will go to sleep, no muss, no fuss, and save our strength for tomorrow.”
“I won’t argue.” He stretched out on one side of the blanket.
Diamond took a deep breath. Just because it was the sensible thing to do didn’t mean it was easy. She lay down next to him and pulled the top cover over their bodies. Jesse still radiated heat and she could feel him shivering. He needed a warm bed, but what more could they do? Perhaps they should have taken their chances with the Union Army. They might have given Jesse some rudimentary medical care and allowed her to travel in the wake of the troops. But what then? They would have sent Jesse to a prisoner of war camp and she would have been no closer to finding her way home.
Cold seeped through the blanket and rocks dug into her soft tissue, but she’d walked all day, supporting Jesse for much of it. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.
Six
Chapter 6
A bird chirping overhead woke Diamond from a deep sleep. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was or why she was sleeping on the hard ground. The barren tent walls and the muttering of the man beside her brought it all back. She was in the nineteenth century, far from everyone and everything she knew, traveling across war-torn countryside in the desperate hope of finding the wily pair responsible for getting her into this mess.
She slipped from the tent and took care of immediate personal needs. Stakeouts were bad enough, having to rely on the nearest gas station restroom, but peeing in the woods sucked.
