by Cathy Peper
The sun shone brightly, burning off the morning chill. Had Jesse been coherent, she was sure he would have insisted on them leaving before now. She dug into her backpack and pulled out an energy bar and her last water bottle. She ate, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.
She could leave. Head north, take her chances on running into the army and make her way to Ste. Genevieve. Anne lived there in the twenty-first century and that was the only clue Diamond had to find her in the nineteenth. Jesse wasn’t her responsibility. He would either escape the Union search net or get captured. Or die. Death, from the sound of his cough, was a real possibility.
Much as she liked him, it was nothing to do with her. She’d only met the man yesterday. But then she’d persuaded him to come with her. Had she not fallen into the time-traveling vortex, he’d now be a prisoner and probably under the care of a doctor. An incompetent nineteenth-century doctor, but someone more qualified to treat him than she was. Or they might have thrown him into a cell and left him to rot. Union doctors probably treated Union soldiers before addressing the needs of prisoners.
She heaved a sigh. Who was she kidding? She would not leave him. Maybe she was afraid to be alone, maybe she felt guilty for having dragged him so far, or maybe she just couldn’t bear to think about his kind blue eyes closing forever. She would get him to the lake and out of enemy territory. Then it would be his turn to help her.
“Jesse, we need to go.”
He shifted and muttered something.
“Rise and shine.” She raised her voice. “The bad guys are coming, remember? Do you want them to catch you napping?”
He sat up, rubbed his eyes and glanced out at the bright morning. “You should have awoken me at dawn.”
“I only woke up a few minutes ago.” Well, maybe thirty minutes, but who’s counting?
“We need to strike the tent and get moving.”
Diamond passed him the canteen. “I already ate. Do you feel up to any food this morning?”
He made a face. “Maybe later.” He drank as she dismantled their tent. He packed up the gear, abandoning the poles she’d gone to so much trouble to find. “Less weight.”
“I get it.” She didn’t know how he carried what he did, sick as he was.
“We could leave the tent, too, since we expect to run into other Confederates today.”
It would lighten their load, but Diamond didn’t want to spend another night in the open. At least the tent kept any rain off. “I don’t think we should chance it.”
“Right.”
Within minutes they were on their way. Jesse seemed better after a decent night’s sleep and walked unassisted. He even had enough energy to quiz her. “Who are these people you need to find?”
“Bob Rivers and Anne Rush.”
“Sorry, don’t know them.”
“I didn’t expect you would. Anne’s from Ste. Genevieve, so I guess I will start the search there.”
Jesse didn’t reply and they walked in silence for a while. “Tell me more about what happened to your head and leg.”
“The Yankees bombarded us for days. Due to our heavy fortifications, they couldn’t get close enough to do any real damage, but occasionally they’d get lucky. They hit the battery where I worked. The wall exploded like it was made of sand. Stuff flew everywhere. I came to in the hospital tent.”
“Have you changed your bandages?”
“It’s fine. I was lucky. One guy lost an arm.”
Diamond swallowed a surge of nausea. She’d read that during the Civil War, amputation was standard practice for most serious injuries, but reading differed from hearing about it firsthand. She prayed she would be home before she had to actually witness such butchery… or experience it herself. No, she wasn’t going there.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said so much to a lady. Blame the fever or your unconventional dress.”
“You’re living this nightmare. I think I can handle a few words.”
“A nightmare? Perhaps. War is far more violent than I expected.” He shook his head. “You must think me hopelessly naïve.”
“No,” she assured him even though he seemed to be one of those glass-half-full type of people. “Lots of young men go off to war with dreams of glory.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Realistic.”
“I signed up for duty, not glory.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“Forget it. I’m a cynic.” Her father had thought it was his duty to go to Afghanistan. Not as a soldier, but as a reporter. He had wanted people back home to know what was really going on, but he had paid for his sense of responsibility with his life. And she and her mother had paid, too.
They fell silent, saving their breath for walking. Jesse’s strength waned after the first hour and he began to stumble.
“Here.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “Lean on me.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. We’re a team.” Jeez, could she be more corny? Soon she’d be telling him there was no “I” in team or other such nonsense.
“I’m unaccustomed to asking for help.”
“Yeah, me, too, but we made a deal. I get you out of Yankee territory and you help me find Rivers.”
Jesse took her at her word, allowing her to take a good portion of his weight. Diamond’s already overtaxed muscles screamed in protest, but she didn’t complain. A deal was a deal.
When they stopped for lunch, Diamond ate the last apple and together they drained the canteen. Jesse refused even a bite of Johnnycake. He seemed barely conscious as he slumped against a tree.
“Give me a moment and we’ll be ready to go.”
Jesse grunted an assent.
Diamond scurried into the bushes to take care of personal needs. Jesse had stepped into the woods this morning, but stayed put now. She didn’t enjoy prying into his personal business, but he was probably dehydrated. They needed to find the lake and refill the canteen.
Vowing to never again complain about cleaning the bathroom, she meandered back to where she’d left Jesse. She had nearly reached him when a movement caught her eye. She turned to see another soldier, dressed in gray and sporting a bushy brown beard, looking as startled to see her as she was him.
“Now what do we have here? I took you for a boy at first, but you’re one of those woman soldiers.”
“I’m a civilian. I have no quarrel with you whether you’re Union or Confederate.” She thought he was probably Confederate, but many regiments supplied their own uniforms and some Northern units wore gray.
“I’ve no quarrel with you either. Fact, I wouldn’t mind getting right friendly with you.”
Diamond’s heart rate sped up, the whoosh of blood in her ears drowning out the buzzing of insects and rustling of leaves in the breeze. She would not let this man rape her. Not without a fight. She slipped her hand inside her pocket and curled her fingers around her multi-tool. The blades were small, and the man outweighed her by a ton, but he would not get away unscathed. “Leave me alone. Union troops are out right now searching for stragglers. Do you want to spend the rest of the war in a Union prison?”
“I won’t hurt you. I just want a kiss, a memory to warm me on cold nights.”
Would he leave it at that? Diamond wasn’t sure and had no wish to kiss the man, although it was a price she would pay to get rid of him. “I’ve got a sweetheart back home,” she lied. “I’m saving all my kisses for him.”
She would never learn if the appeal to his better nature worked.
A steady, calm voice broke the silence. “You heard the woman. She wants nothing to do with you. What the hell are we fighting for if not the safety of our homes, women, and family?”
Diamond turned towards the sound. Relief poured through her body like a cooling shower on a hot summer day. Jesse stood a few feet away, his pistol trained on the other soldier.
Bushy Beard raised his hands. “I didn’t mean no harm. Just didn’t expect to see a pretty girl out here all alone in the woods.”
“She’s not alone, she’s with me. But either way you should have treated her with respect. If I were your commanding officer, I’d have the right to shoot you where you stand.”
“But you’re not,” the man sneered. “Shoot me now and it’s murder.”
“Murder without witnesses.”
“She’s a witness, not that it matters. You won’t shoot me in cold blood.”
Jesse lowered the pistol. “Get out of here.”
Diamond gritted her teeth, wishing Jesse had pulled the trigger. She didn’t trust the guy, and they weren’t in a good position to defend themselves. It surprised her Jesse was still standing.
Bushy Beard lowered his hands, but kept them in sight, not going for his gun. “Headed for the lake?”
Jesse nodded.
“We could travel together.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Jesse held up a hand to quiet her.
Diamond longed to slap his hand aside, but bit her tongue and tightened her grip on the multi-tool.
“Why would we trust you?”
“We’re on the same side and you got the wrong idea about the girl. I never intended to hurt her.”
“You’ll be faster on your own.” Jesse gestured towards the bloody bandage on his head. “I’m not at top speed.”
“Maybe I don’t fancy getting shot in the back.”
“If I didn’t shoot you now, why would I shoot you later?”
The man glanced over at Diamond. “She might.”
He isn’t wrong. Once Jesse passed out, it would be easy to take his gun. But she wasn’t sure she could shoot someone in the back. “I’m unarmed.”
The man ignored her, addressing his question to Jesse. “What’s your plan for when you reach the lake? Can we swim across?”
“The lake is huge. We’re hoping to find transport, but if not, we’ll swim. In some places it’s shallow enough to wade.” Jesse sounded grim.
“That’s all we know,” Diamond said.
“I’ll help you. To clear up any misunderstandings.”
Misunderstanding, my foot. It rubbed her the wrong way, but she allowed the men to take charge, like a good nineteenth-century woman.
Jesse led the way back to their lunch site where he shouldered his pack. They set out, with Jesse leaning on Bushy Beard who had introduced himself as George White. They made better time this way, but Diamond kept a few paces behind the men, her gaze no doubt boring a hole in the back of George’s skull.
An hour or two later, they reached the lake. Although she had never been there, Diamond had seen pictures and the sight of Cypress trees growing out of the water didn’t surprise her. George, however, was not amused.
“Looks more like a damn swamp than a lake.”
“The earthquakes of 1811/1812 created the lake. The Mississippi River flooded the area.”
“It’s shallow,” Jesse said again. “Most places anyway.”
A sick feeling pooled in Diamond’s stomach as she surveyed the empty area. Escaping across the lake had always been a long shot, but they had come so far. “No transports.”
“Then we swim,” George said.
“Jesse will never make it.” She wasn’t sure she would either. She’d loved playing in the pool as a kid, but had never swum competitively or trained as a lifeguard.
“We build a raft,” Jesse said. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, just good enough to get us across.”
Diamond perked up. “I’ll gather sticks. You with us, George, or want to take your chance on swimming?”
“It’s worth a try.”
Diamond waited until he wandered in one direction and then went in the other. They gathered all the downed wood they could find, bringing it back to Jesse who lashed them together with some rope from his pack. George added his own cording, but it soon became obvious the raft would have to be small.
“Do you have any rope?” Jesse asked.
“Sorry.” It was the first time he’d asked about her supplies, always generously sharing his own.
“Maybe you should double-check.” George eyed her backpack with suspicion.
“I don’t have any rope,” she insisted. She tried to keep the bag away from the men as much as possible since she didn’t think zippers had been invented yet and most of what she had inside would puzzle them.
“We will make do with what we have. If we can’t all ride on the raft, we can hang on to it while we swim.”
“I don’t think so. I’ll take the raft. I need it more than either of you.” George didn’t pull his gun. He just shoved the rectangle into the water where it bobbed playfully.
Diamond surged to her feet. “No way. If anyone is getting on that raft, it’s Jesse. We can follow alongside. We won’t drown.”
“Waste of time. You heard his cough. He’s a dead man either way.”
“He’s not a doctor,” Diamond told Jesse. “Don’t listen to him.”
“You know I speak the truth, Miss Diamond. Come with me. The Yanks won’t throw you in prison, but they have no love for Confederate sympathizers.”
“We’re all going.”
“Three won’t fit.”
“Jesse…” Why didn’t he pull his gun? Why didn’t he shoot this lying, cheating, double-crosser? She dug her hand into her pocket.
George waded into the lake and heaved himself up on the raft. The small craft sank a couple inches, but kept him mostly above water. Using a long branch they had saved to use as a pole, he pushed away from the bank.
“Last chance,” he taunted her.
“You lousy snake.”
“I think you’re doing snakes a disservice,” Jesse said. “Let him go. We will walk the shore, and see if we can find those transports you heard about.”
Fat chance.
Jesse was gray with fatigue. She could easily overpower him, take his pistol, shoot White like they should have in the first place, and then swim out and grab the raft. Instead, she stood there and watched their only chance of escape grow smaller in the distance. She kicked a rock into the lake and stalked off into the trees. Being around Jesse was making her weak.
Seven
Chapter 7
Jesse watched Diamond disappear into the woods. Would she come back? He’d half expected her to find her missing this morning. He was slowing her down and though he tried to make light of his condition, he was very ill. His chest felt as if a boulder were sitting on it and his throat was raw, making every swallow painful. Was he too far gone as White had claimed?
Diamond was angry. She thought he’d failed her when he allowed White to make off with their raft. Why hadn’t he pulled his gun? He wouldn’t have shot the other man, but he could have threatened to do so. But to what end? White also carried a gun. If Jesse had gone for his pistol, White would have done the same. And Jesse didn’t think he would have hesitated to shoot.
He would explain himself to Diamond when she came back. If she came back. But he couldn’t pretend to himself that he’d worked out the odds at the moment and made a rational decision. Instinct had taken over, his conscience recoiling at the prospect of taking a life, but that wasn’t why he’d hesitated. Fear ruled him. Seeing the raft floating in the water, thinking of a bunch of sticks as the only barrier between him and the cloying water of the lake had frozen him like a statue.
It’s not the Mississippi. Like he’d told White, in places Reelfoot was shallow enough to wade through. There were no dangerous undertows, although there were plenty of submerged trees to get caught on, branches, like arms, reaching for the unwary and pulling them down into the depths.
Enough! It’s just a lake, formed, as Diamond had explained when powerful earthquakes rocked the area. According to old-timers, the Mississippi ran backward, overflowed its banks, and flooded this low-lying area. The raft would have provided enough buoyancy to get them safel
y across.
Maybe Diamond would find the transports. Or maybe they could hide out and evade the Union troops until the army moved on. He wanted to pitch the tent, to give them some shelter for the night, but hadn’t the strength to search for supports. Perhaps he should have brought them, extra weight notwithstanding. He would rest for a few minutes, then go find them. Diamond would be back soon. He held onto the thought as he closed his eyes.
The clatter of wood falling to the ground woke him what seemed like seconds later, but a quick glance at the sun revealed he’d probably slept for an hour or more. Diamond stood over him, hands on her hips, her generous mouth compressed into a straight line.
Jesse fumbled through the fog of sleep. She’d come back. “Did you find a good branch for the roof? We’ll put the tent up, search for the transports tomorrow.”
“We’re building another raft.”
“We have no more rope.”
“I don’t have a rope, but I have another type of fastener. Just two, so this raft will be smaller than the other, but it should work.”
Jesse’s stomach lurched as he remembered White poling away from shore, the raft dipping under his weight. “Let’s make camp tonight and tackle the problem fresh tomorrow. We might find the transports.”
She hesitated, but then her mouth grew firmer. “No. Reelfoot Lake isn’t a nice circle we can walk around. It sends fingers and tendrils out in all directions. We could walk for days and never find the transports—if they even exist.”
He wished she hadn’t used the word tendrils. Her description of the lake as a living being was too reminiscent of his own earlier speculation. “You’re angry with me for not shooting White. Don’t make this decision in the grip of anger.”
“Yeah, I’m angry, but not at you.” She paused a moment. “Well, okay, maybe a little at you. But I’m more angry with myself. You’re sick, but I could have stopped him.”
“He’s a grown man and a trained soldier. There’s nothing you could have done. Better to let him go than end up shooting each other.”
“You may be right—this time. Because while I was stomping around out in the woods, I remembered I carry a couple bungee cords in my bag, just in case.”
