And One Wore Gray (39 page)

Callie wondered if the roan could take more than such a slow pace.

“There are troops camped all over,” Callie said softly.

“I know.”

“You’re worried about my bringing the Yankees down upon you—”

“I know that there are Yankees out there,” he said lightly. “It’s when I don’t expect to find them that they’re so dangerous.”

He was silent for a second, and she winced when he continued.

“I didn’t expect to find them in your bed.”

“They weren’t in my bed.”

“Damned close.”

She bit her lip, determined not to make an effort to explain things to a man who would not listen.

The baby began to whimper. She cradled him more tightly against her, and he fell silent once again. She was tempted to try to turn around, to look back.

The sight of the farmhouse would be fading away.

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly.

“What?”

“There is something that I need to do. Could we stop—”

She felt his arms stiffen instantly. He would always be suspicious of her, she thought.

“Rudy and Helga Weiss. They’ll worry when they find that I’m gone. They might look for me. At a hardship to themselves. Please. Their place is not far off the road.”

“And you want to stop? You’ve become good friends with the Dunkards?”

“The Dunkards became my friends,” she said softly. She didn’t add that they had done so when no one else seemed to care if she lived or died. “I have to tell them that I’m leaving. There’s no treachery involved, I swear it.”

“I’ll stop, and you may have five minutes to speak with them. I’ll keep the baby.”

“Helga delivered him for me—”

“I’ll keep the baby. It’s my last offer. Take it or leave it.”

Damn him. She managed to keep her mouth closed, very aware that nothing could deter him when he spoke in that tone of voice. She pointed the way down the road to Rudy’s small farmstead.

As he had said he would do, he stopped a certain distance from the house. He dismounted from the roan, and his hands circled around her waist once again. He lifted her down, but once her feet had touched the ground, he released her. The warmth of his touch was gone.

He took Jared from her arms. He did so easily, with no awkwardness. He didn’t even waken his sleeping son.

“Say good-bye to them, Callie. Quickly. For all I know, you could be planning on having them send someone after us. I’m warning you. If I have to run, I’ll run with Jared. And I’m good at getting where I want to go.”

“I’m not warning anyone about anything,” Callie said irritably. “I’m saying good-bye to people who were very good to me. And to your son.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, but hurried toward the small, simple house. She knocked quickly on the door. Rudy answered it, crying out when he saw her. “What’s wrong? What has happened? Where is the baby? Are you all right, Frau Michaelson?”

“Yes, I’m fine, and the baby is just outside. I’m—I’m leaving the area for a while. I just came to say goodbye. And to thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”

She could see past the plain entryway and into the house. It was barren of decoration in any form, and still it was warm. A fire crackled in the hearth, and simple wood furnishings were set around it. From the kitchen, Callie could see Helga hurrying out to greet her.

“Callie! Where’s mein kinder?”

“Jared is just outside. I’m leaving for a while. I’m taking Jared south.”

“South!” Helga exclaimed. “But there is so much danger in the South—”

“Helga!” Callie interrupted, smiling. “Twice we have been in the path of a battle here! I don’t think that I can find a place with greater danger!” Impulsively she hugged the older woman. “I’ll be all right, I promise. I just came to say good-bye, so that you wouldn’t worry about me.”

Helga hugged her warmly in return. “I will worry about you anyway, child. I will miss you.”

“I will miss you, too, Helga. I thank you so very much for all that you have done for me.”

“What we have done? Bah. We have all looked out after one another, yes?”

“You are going with the child’s father?” Rudy said disapprovingly.

“Rudy! She must do what she feels is right. And surely, it will be right. God will see to it, soon enough. You go, and you take care of yourself.” She smoothed her hand tenderly over Callie’s cheek.

Rudy sighed. He still didn’t like the fact that Callie was leaving. “I will look after the farm, Frau Michaelson. I will look after it carefully.”

“Thank you. But you musn’t make yourself too much more work.”

“Work, what work?” He threw his hands into the air. “There are no animals left to work for!” He took her from his wife’s arms, and hugged her warmly. Callie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll come back,” she promised. “When the war is over.”

She turned and fled, amazed at how attached she had become to the elderly couple. It was worse than leaving her own home. She didn’t dare take any more time, though. Daniel was waiting.

When she came back into the yard, Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

Fear stormed into her heart, stark and vivid. She swirled in the pale light that radiated from the Weiss home, looking feverishly about her.

He had warned her that he would take the baby. He had threatened to take the baby if she didn’t return quickly enough.

No! Oh, God, no! This couldn’t be his revenge!

“Daniel!” She shrieked his name, heedless of the sound, heedless of the night. Tears sprang to her eyes and she started to run in the darkness, tearing for the road. “No, oh no, oh no, Daniel!” Her breath came raggedly, desperately. She swirled around in the road again, unable to see him anywhere.

“Daniel!”

She almost fell, doubling over with panic and pain. She heard hoofbeats, and then the sound of his voice.

“I’m right here, Callie! Would you hush? You’ll wake the dead Yanks nearby as well as the living ones!”

She straightened, and blinked away her tears. He had emerged from the side of the road, Jared in his arms, leading his horse. Jared, miraculously, still slept.

Callie rushed to Daniel’s side and looked down at
her sleeping son. She itched to snatch him back from his father, but she refrained.

She felt Daniel’s fingers on her cheek, and met his gaze, startled. There was a gentleness in his touch. Almost a reassurance.

“You really love him,” he said softly.

“More than life,” she agreed.

He handed the baby carefully back into her arms. She was silent as his hands slipped around her waist and he lifted her back onto the roan horse. Silently, and with perfect agility, he leapt up behind her. Once again, the lean horse bore them down the trail.

“You said your good-byes?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“And you won’t look back?”

“I’m not looking back.”

He fell silent. They plodded along.

The night was dark. There were few stars in the skies. It was cool, with the promise of rain, and then it seemed to become hot and muggy with the same promise.

They moved very slowly. Daniel stopped time and time again, listening.

Sometimes he reined in and paused, rising in his stirrups, looking around them. Callie didn’t know what he saw. She could see nothing at all, except for the
Stygian
darkness.

They rode on.

Callie grew tired. Jared’s weight seemed to grow with each heavy plod of the horse’s hooves. She felt her eyes closing, and she fought to keep them open.

She felt herself easing back against Daniel. She didn’t want to do so. She wanted to ride with her back straight and her head high. She couldn’t quite manage it. She leaned against the warm living strength of his chest, and the warmth and comfort there became more and more inviting. Her eyes began to close. She
couldn’t sleep, she warned herself. She might drop the baby.

No, Daniel would never let her drop the baby.

A curious sensation swept along her spine. She wasn’t alone anymore. There were two of them concerned for Jared.

She blinked hard. She shouldn’t sleep.

Daniel reined in. She tried very hard to open her eyes. The darkness remained.

“Where are we?” she whispered.

“We’re still in Maryland, Mrs. Michaelson,” he said softly. “We’ll sleep here tonight.”

She tried to open her eyes more widely. “Here? Where are we? We’re nowhere.”

He dismounted from the horse, and reached for her. “We’re in the wilderness, my love. And this is where we shall sleep tonight.”

He set her down upon the ground, then immediately turned and began to unbuckle the girth on the horse; “Go ahead and find a tree. Curl up.”

Callie stared at him blankly. He turned around, the saddle in his hand, and laughed when he saw her forlorn face.

“Come here, Mrs. Michaelson.”

He carried the saddle in his one hand, and with the other, he led her along. From nearby, she could hear the soft sounds of a bubbling brook. Daniel dropped the saddle by the base of an old oak tree. He released Callie and headed back to his horse, brought down the blanket and both his saddlebags and the ones Callie had brought, and led the horse to the side of the road where rich long grasses grew.

He tethered the horse loosely to a tree, and returned to Callie’s side once again.

“We needed to leave my house quickly so that we could come and sleep here?” she said.

“There’s a beautiful sky for a roof, grass for a bed,
sweet air to breathe,” Daniel told her. “And there are no Yankees here. None to have to keep an eye on.”

“You’re wrong,” she reminded him. “I’m a Yankee.”

“Excuse me. There’s only one Yankee here,” he said. He touched her chin. “And I will keep my eye on her,” he said, his voice husky.

She turned away from him. He tossed her a blanket and she did her best to stretch it out and maintain her hold on the baby. Daniel made an impatient sound and came and stretched it out for her.

She lay down, her back to him, easing Jared to her side. She stretched a protective arm around him, as if he could roll away in the darkness.

She felt her baby moving. Felt the subtle rise and fall of his little chest. Her fingers moved over the ink-dark hair. He still hadn’t awakened. She touched his cheek. She felt the always overwhelming sense of love for him invade her.

She closed her eyes. She was so weary. It had been such a long night. They had ridden so far.

He had come back into her life.

She hated him. She loved him.

The darkness seemed to close in around her. She started to shiver, cuddling Jared even closer. Summer days were hot. It was amazing that night could be so cold.

Her shivers increased. She was shaking so violently that she started to fear she would wake the baby.

She started to rise, but suddenly there was warmth all around her.

Daniel was stretching out beside her. “Dammit, Callie, what is the matter?”

“I’m cold!” she cried softly.

He brought her back down with him, his arm around her, warm and secure.

His hand, so large and bronze and powerful, rested
protectively around her and on top of the blanket bundling their son.

Callie’s shivers slowly ceased.

A smile curved her lips. She slept, as easily, as sweetly, as Jared.

The journey southward was long and tedious.

Despite the very late hour at which they had stopped, Daniel woke Callie early. Not long after she had finally fallen asleep, the baby had awakened, hungry, and so she had spent time up with him. She was very tired when Daniel woke her. She had a headache, her throat was dry, and her hair was in a wild tangle. She could barely struggle into a sitting position, bringing the baby up with her.

It didn’t help any that Daniel laughed at her when she turned reproachful eyes his way.

“Up!” he commanded her. “If we get going now, I’ll make coffee a little way down the road.”

He reached for Jared, and Callie surrendered the baby to his father. To her surprise, the baby was awake. He wasn’t crying—he watched both her and Daniel pensively.

“There’s a creek right down there,” Daniel advised her, inclining his head down the slope from the road. With his free hand, he helped her to her feet.

Callie searched through her set of saddlebags for her brush and toothbrush, both of which were showing sad signs of wear, but then again, in comparison to the
supplies that Daniel carried, they seemed to be in exceptionally fine condition.

She bit into her lip, not wanting to look back at Daniel. She could too clearly remember the imprint of his body next to her own as they had slept. With the morning’s light, she was once again reminded that no amount of wear or tear really seemed to tarnish her wayward cavalier. He had shaven before he had awakened her, scrubbed his hands and face, and doused his ink-dark hair. The hollows in his cheeks were deeper than she had remembered. More tiny lines were etched around his eyes. And still, she loved his face. More gaunt, it merely appeared more noble.

She walked down to the creek, branches catching at her skirt, wondering again how it was possible to hate and resent someone so very much and also love him all the while.