Finally Isaac pushed back his chair. “We’re heading into Culpeper. I’ve an appointment with Dr. Ballantyne and some business to attend to while I’ve got the time.”
Good. Maybe you’ll get caught in some crossfire. Or catch smallpox in the doctor’s office. Or get hung as deserters. Or run over by the train.
“We’ll be taking your horse. She’s the only one the damned commissary agents have left us.”
Star’s head came up with a start. “She’s not harness broke. You know that.”
“Damn,” he said. “I’d forgotten. We’ll have to take the mule then. Come on, Jacob. Better get a move on.”
Jake finished his corncake, then rose to follow his father. Just as he walked by Star, he made a quick movement towards her, a tiny ball of fire vanishing right before it hit her. She jerked away, chair toppling to the floor behind her. His laughter followed him out the door. He didn’t see the tiny silver gun whipped from its lair, the sight trailing him as he left.
The front door slammed shut. Star dropped the gun as if it again burned and buried her face in her hands, trembling. Where’s the good in having a weapon if I can’t use it? I can’t kill both of them!
“That bastard!” Danica cried, hitting the table with both tiny fists.
“Now who needs to watch her language, cariad?” her sister chided gently, swallowing down her fears so that they sat like a raw coal in her stomach. She put the gun away, hands still shaking slightly.
“I can’t stand it, Star! I can’t stand what he’s doing to you! Give me the gun—I'm not afraid to use it!”
“Shhh, Dani. You don't know what you're saying.” After a moment Dani slumped down in her seat, and laid her head on the table. Star relaxed slightly. Somehow she did not doubt her sister would do exactly as she had threatened, given the chance, and she could not allow that to happen.
Even with this ice in my soul, I still can’t bring myself to commit murder. It would destroy you.
Star ran a loving hand through the tousled red curls. “Now,” she said, making an effort to sound cheerful, “we’re up. Let’s go out in the garden and watch the sun rise. After that, I’ll start in on those weeds, and you can do your mending on the steps. It’ll be nice and cool there.”
I’d forgotten how beautiful sunrise can be, she thought. From their perch on the gazebo steps, they could see the sun crawling out of the eastern lowlands, gold and crimson beams tunneling through the fog. Every morning I was up with it, or before, but rarely did I ever stop to really watch.
In the distance came the deadly thunder of artillery. All that is missing is the bugler. I never thought I would miss hearing him. The morning mist still clung to the grounds of Woodhaven, shrouding the trees and house like a dream. She half expected to see Travis hobble around the corner of one of the outbuildings. Another one I never thought I would miss so. She sighed, then winced. Breathing too deeply hurt. With an inward snarl, she set her mind to the day ahead.
The morning wore on slowly, punctuated by the pounding of cannon and the higher pitched rattling of musketry. She was still attacking the weeds in the border gardens, but more and more often her gaze would return to the northeast. She caught herself staring several times, but she always pulled herself back from the brink, just when she was sure she couldn’t wait another moment before galloping madly towards Fleetwood Hill. She wasn’t positive that the general would be there, but it was the highest ground for miles. He wouldn’t leave ground like that open.
Laughing slightly at her thoughts, she paused to bat at a wayward brown lock that refused to stay out of her face. Though the morning was still young, it was already hot and humid. The sweat trickled down her face and chest, stinging. Fine, enough, she thought. Time for a rest.
Stretching tiredly, she tramped over to where Danica sat on the gazebo steps. Her little sister was quiet, too quiet, and her basket of mending was almost untouched. She sat down with a groan. Dani didn’t look at her, just continued staring down the plank road to Fredericksburg.
“When are you leaving?”
Star was startled. “What?”
“Oh, don’t even pretend, Star. It’s plain to see where you really want to be. Not that I blame you. Any place would be better than here,” she added softly, as if to herself.
“Dani….” What do I say? She’s right, so right. She took Dani’s hands—they were cold, even in the warm air of a June morning.
“Leave, Star. Please. Before something worse happens to you.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Starla felt a sudden release, the unchaining of fetters. “I will. Soon.”
“I just wish I could come with you.” She sounded very young, and wistful.
Oh, cariad, I wish you could come too.
“Will you leave today?”
“Probably. While General Stuart is still nearby. He said he would help, if I ever needed him.”
“Where will you go this time? Will you stay with the cavalry again?”
Star too stared out south, thinking before answering. “Maybe. If they let me. I was going to go to Boston. Uncle Peter and Aunt Rebekkah would help, I’m certain. But now….” Now she wasn’t so sure. The wild music of battle had awoken too many memories, memories of days spent in a saddle or bent over dying men, exhausted, hands stained red. It was hell, but I have never felt so alive as I did there.
They sat in silence, listening to the distant thunder, watching the empty fields that glowed green gold in the morning light. That’s odd, Star thought. The sounds of battle suddenly seemed much closer, just to the east, possibly as close as the Wheatley farm. The place Will had died. That’s only a few miles….
A strange cloud caught her eye, a low cloud of dust cloaking the plank road, winding its way down to the narrow ford over Mountain Run. She was on her feet in an instant, trying to see through the dust. How did I miss that?
“What do you think…?” she began. Then she saw the flag, the stars and stripes on the swallow tailed guidon held aloft a mass of blue horsemen. The lead columns were already crossing the ford, passing right below her. Yankees? Here? To herself she murmured, “Two brigades, this far from the action. Where are you going?” Her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Danica grabbed at her arm. “What’s going on, Star?”
“Yankees coming up behind the general’s lines. I’ve got to warn him.”
“Go, and don’t come back.”
Starla looked down at her in amazement. Dani was crying, but her pale face was determined. She gave the frail girl a tight hug. “I’ll write. I promise. Take care of yourself, please?” Her sister nodded, squeezed her back.
Then Star was sprinting for the pasture, whistling loudly for Iris as she went.
Travis studied the countryside around him with interest. Rather pretty around here, he thought. Much nicer looking than last time we came through. Good horse country. I wouldn’t mind scouting this land a bit more, if we weren’t in such a dad blamed hurry. The road dipped down sharply, turned, and a stately red brick house with slim white columns rose to meet them on the opposite side of the stream they had just crossed.
“Nice place,” he remarked to Captain Logan, who rode beside him. “How’d you like to live there?”
The captain merely grunted and twitched his sandy moustache in irritation. “Too damn hot.”
Travis almost smiled, instead lifted his hat, running a hand through heavy sweaty hair. The heat was atrocious, especially for this early in the day.
Company F was at the head of General Gregg’s columns, heading towards the sounds of fighting. Which was not where they were supposed to be, since the rest of their regiment was on the road to Stevensburg. But early that morning, when Colonel Duffié’s exhausted men finally found their way to Kelly’s Ford, General Gregg was waiting for them.
“I’d like to borrow one of your companies,” he’d informed his cousin, who had command of Duffié’s Second Brigade.
This time there w
as no confused looks when Company F of the 4th Pennsylvania was asked for—Colonel Gregg was well aware of their new reputation.
“Need a bird dog to flush some game?”
“Exactly,” was the laconic reply.
“Aw, damn. Not again.” The now familiar complaint floated out of the ranks when their orders were announced.
Captain Logan shook his head when he heard that. “Good thing Private Horning hasn’t figured out who’s to blame for our sudden popularity,” he told Travis.
“I don’t blame him,” Travis said with a snort. “I’m not exactly loving it either. Though I suppose being a bird dog is a step up from being a canary.”
The memory brought Travis back to his duty and he recommenced his inspection of their surroundings. They were still passing the brick house, and something was tugging at his memory. Hard. What was it? Will Lewis, that’s what it was. Offering his devil’s deal. Talking about Starla, and her home. “It’s up Culpeper way, near a little town called Brandy. Brandy Station, that is. … A beautiful place, all red brick and white columns.”
Why, that’s where we’re heading, Brandy Station. Travis turned to look at it closer. Could it be Woodhaven? His heart gave a hopeful jump. No, that would be too much of a coincidence. So give it up, he told himself. You may miss her something fierce, but that’s your own darn fault for falling for her in the first place.
He was listening further ahead when a flash of white caught his eye. A horse, racing away from the house, on a parallel course with the road. It disappeared behind a small copse, reappearing again almost immediately. Closer now, he could see a slight, blue figure on a white gray horse.
Hold on a minute! I know that— “Sir, permission to stop that rider!”
Logan glanced at him, saw the look of utter disbelief etched on his face and asked no questions. “Go!”
Travis was already gone, urging Ginny to greater speeds as they sped down the road opposite the other horse. If she’s expecting pursuit I’ll be hard pressed to catch her, he thought as the distance between them lessened. But Ginny’s good on the straightaway, and Iris is just a pacer—she can’t hold this speed for long.
Suddenly she veered right, away from the road, and disappeared into a stand of trees. I’ll never find her in there. But maybe I can make up some time on the road. If I remember the captain’s map right, it opens up again on the far side of this. Pounding down the road, he could feel his insides start to twist and turn as they always did when he thought of Star. How was she? Why was she back here? Where was she going in such a hurry?
The woods disappeared without warning, and there was Iris in the open field directly in front of them. At that moment, Star turned and started at seeing him so near. Iris surged ahead, Star bent low over her. He could feel Ginny stumble, then regain her wind, pulling closer. Enough of this. He grabbed a lasso of Air and tossed it over Iris’s head. Holding tight, he brought them both to a shuddering halt.
Starla began at once to berate him. “Just who do you do you think you—?” She broke off mid sentence, eyes round as grapeshot. “Travis?”
“Hullo, Miss Star,” he replied softly. Either Fate was being uncommonly kind, or uncommonly cruel, to him today. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I….”
Her voice sounded strained, almost frightened. And what was that on her face? He kneed Ginny nearer, looking at Star closely. He could feel fury building, a burning that started down deep. He reached out and, ever so gently, traced the scabbed weal that ran down her cheek and neck. He could see her try not to, but she couldn’t help it: she flinched from his touch. His jaw tightened.
“Who, Starla? Tell me who.” Though I’m sure I already know.
She croaked out his name, staring at her hands as if ashamed.
“Someday I’m going to kill that son of bitch.” He took her hand, cradled it unconsciously in his own. “Come with me, Miss Star. I’ll get you some place safe.” All I want to do is hold you in my arms, and kiss away the fear I see in your eyes. I thought we’d banished that look, your uncle and I. If you’d only let me, I’d make certain you never looked that way again.
Her face lit up briefly, and she looked as if she wanted to come, as if she knew he would protect her. Then she shuddered at the sounds of cavalry approaching. She shook her head slowly, as if unwilling to say what he knew she would say, to do what he had somehow known she’d do from the minute he’d stopped her.
“Release Iris, please.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” he said thickly. He sighed, shoulders bent under the double weight of fear for her and of duty. Must we forever be on opposing sides? “I can’t let you go, Miss Star. If I did, you’d be off again to warn General Stuart.”
She straightened in her saddle, staring at him in disbelief. “How…?”
“That was where you were racing to, wasn’t it?” I know you a little too well, he thought, closing his eyes.
“Let me go,” she said again, voice very high and frantic.
“No.”
The sound of a gun being cocked; his eyes flew open to see the tiny Deringer pointed at him. “Starla!”
Her lips were trembling, there were tears streaking down her cheeks, but the gun remained rock steady in her hand. “I said now, Travis.”
Something snapped inside of him. No more, Estella Anderson. No more. You’ve made your choice. Now live with it. I’ve played the fool long enough. “And I said no. You’ll just have to shoot me.”
Her face showed the battle inside, but he no longer cared. He didn’t even bother to put up a shield.
The gun drooped imperceptibly towards the ground, then exploded at Ginny’s feet. She reacted as any creature would, rearing and plunging in terror. He hadn’t expected that—the rope of Air holding Iris vanished as he flew out of the saddle and landed hard on the dusty road, stunning him for a moment.
Star cried out, “Damn you, Travis Black! You know very well I could never hurt you!” and then was gone, galloping across the fields towards the sounds of fighting.
Star raced on, tears blinding her as she went. She dashed them away roughly with her sleeve. Not now, she told herself. There is no time for tears now. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself to the task at hand. Fleetwood Hill was before her. Lord, please let my guess be right, she prayed as Iris pounded up the gentle slope, and let the general be here. Beneath her, she could feel Iris struggling.
“I know you’re tired, girl,” she coaxed. “Just a few more minutes and you can rest.”
At the Miller’s house on the top of the hill there were only a few men, sitting on horseback, waiting. Couriers. I guessed wrong, she thought dismally. She didn’t recognize the major who came forward to greet her.
“Where’s General Stuart?” she demanded.
“He’s a bit busy right now, ma’am. I’m his new assistant adjunct-general, Henry McClellan,” he said pleasantly. “May I help you, Miss…?” He stepped closer, and his mouth dropped open. She knew what he was going to ask next. She held up a hand to forestall him.
“Starla Anderson. Tell General Stuart that there are Yankees coming up from Stony Ford. At least a division. They’re only a few minutes away from Brandy by now.”
She could tell he was skeptical. “That’s what Robertson’s man just told me. I sent him to check again.” Then he blinked. “Miss Anderson? Are you the Healer—?”
A shout interrupted him: Robertson’s messenger had returned, and was pointing down towards Brandy Station. “You can see them for yourself now!”
He didn’t question her further, just pointed down the hill, towards St. James Church. “I’ll tell him. You get back behind the lines. Beauregard would be best. That’s where the surgeons are setting up, if you wish to join them.”
She nodded, slid off Iris’ back, and led her away, while behind her Major McClellan began to issue orders to the couriers in a calm voice. Reaching the Barbour house, she unsaddled Iris, walked her until cooled, then left her with som
e feed in the stable, all the while trying to keep from reliving the scene with Travis. Shouldering her father’s leather satchel, she started for the hospital area, then stopped. No. I will be of little use there today. Instead, she made her way to the front steps of the house, where she sat and stared blankly into space.
All she could see were those flat gray eyes, boring through to her very soul. The eyes of a stranger, or rather, someone who wished he were a stranger. Oh Travis, what have I done? What have I done? But there was no answer, and there might never be one. He could be out there on the field, dead or dying, my fault, and I would never know. But what else could I have done?
As she sat there like a rock on the wooden step, feeling as if it were her own heart she’d fired that cursed Deringer into, she finally understood. I love him. I don’t know how, or when, but I love him. And I have destroyed any chance of him ever knowing, or of it ever being returned.
As the fighting continued, Starla was only partially aware of the people who came and went. General Lee stood on the porch, watching the final minutes of the battle, then stopped beside her.
“Miss Anderson? Are you well?”
Another voice. “From the looks of it she’s had a rough time, sir. She hasn’t answered anyone since she first brought the warning. She may not be able to answer. Shock, you know.”
The general’s voice was concerned. “What will become of her now?”
“I don’t know, sir. General Stuart has not yet been informed of her return.”
She laid her head down on her knees and ignored the rest of the conversation.
It was early afternoon when Stuart arrived to speak with Lee. They consulted in low tones at the front gate, then General Lee mounted Traveller and rode away south, Culpeper way. The part of her that still functioned wondered who was waiting down there. Longstreet? Ewell? Jackson? No, General Jackson was dead. That was a piece of news Dani had gleaned from Uncle Isaac’s supper speeches.
An Uncivilized Yankee Page 20
