And One Wore Gray (40 page)

There was little she could do for her own appearance, but the cool water felt good, and she took the time to brush out her hair. When she reached the road once again, Daniel was ready to ride.

The morning passed silently. When she would have spoken, he shushed her. When the baby cried at last, Daniel urged her to quiet him quickly. Lee’s entire army might be heading this way, but there might well be Yankee patrols following in its path. Skirmishing was sure to take place, and Daniel was determined to avoid either army.

Biting into her lower lip, she loosed the buttons on her bodice to feed the baby while they rode. She had promised herself that she would demand her privacy in all things. This decision was quickly falling apart. But Daniel seemed heedless even of her presence as she fed the baby. He merely grunted his approval when she whispered later that Jared slept once again.

He had promised her coffee, but she was certain that it was at the very least late afternoon when he reined in
on the road and dismounted. He did so easily. When he lifted her down, she staggered and would have fallen with Jared if Daniel hadn’t supported her. She was riot accustomed to hour after hour in the saddle.

Her stomach was growling. She’d had soup the night before—Daniel, she was certain, had paused for nothing on his way to reach her. How could he go so long and so far on nothing?

The war, she thought. As always, these days, it seemed that the answer to any question was the same.

He had stopped where she could hear the nearby gurgle of a creek once again. When she could stand on her own he led the horse through the trees to reach it, and Callie followed behind with the baby. The water looked delicious and she quickly sat down beside it. Holding the baby close against her chest, she cupped one hand to scoop up the cool liquid.

She looked behind her to discover that Daniel had cleared a spot of ground on which to build a fire. Quickly and competently, he drew coffee and a tin pot from a saddlebag, took water from the brook, and set the coffee to brew.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Callie.

She nodded, aware that he had really forgotten that people usually ate three times a day, beginning with breakfast.

He dug further into the bag, and came out with a pair of heavy square biscuits. He handed her one. Hardtack, she thought. A soldier’s staple. But even as she looked at the biscuit, a tiny worm crawled out from it. Then another, and another.

She swallowed hard, allowing the biscuit to fall.

“Sorry,” he said huskily.

She shrugged. “I’ve seen worms before. Just not—just not so many,” she finished. She handed him back the biscuit. “I’m really not that hungry.”

He stared at the biscuit, then seemed suddenly furious. He tossed it away in a wide arc.

“Jesu! This is what we’re reduced to!” He inhaled and exhaled raggedly. “It won’t be like this at home. The river is teeming with fish. We’ve livestock in abundance. So many ducks you can hardly imagine them, and enough chickens for an army—”

He broke off, twisting his jaw. They both knew that if any army had been through the peninsula—even Daniel’s own army—there was probably nothing left at Cameron Hall either.

Jared opened his wide blue eyes and smiled at his mother. He didn’t seem to care about the food supply. He didn’t need to care, not yet, Callie thought. But a few more days of nothing, and she might well fail in her efforts to feed him.

Daniel was watching the baby. Jared flailed out with his tiny hands and Daniel suddenly reached over. Little fingers curled around his larger one. Daniel smiled, much like his son. Callie felt a tug at her heart as she realized that Daniel had never decided to take the baby for revenge. He loved Jared. Maybe he couldn’t love the baby the same way that she did. He hadn’t borne him, hadn’t held him from the very start. But he loved him, nonetheless.

“I think that the coffee’s ready,” Callie said.

His gaze met hers. Blue. Speculative. “So it is,” he said. He went over to the pot, and a moment later he was back with a tin cup. Callie laid the baby in her lap, and took the cup from Daniel. The coffee was curiously good, or else it was simply delicious because it was a different taste from water, all that she had had. She sipped it, savoring it. She looked at Daniel, who was watching her.

“You’re not having any?”

He shrugged. “A soldier’s mess carries only one cup,” he said.

She flushed, passing it back to him.

“There’s plenty of coffee in the pot. Finish that.”

She did so, then passed back the tin cup. He left her, poured himself a cup of coffee, drank it, then immediately began to put out the fire and return his belongings to his saddlebag. Callie watched him, then realized that he wanted to start riding again and roused herself. “I need to change the baby,” she told him, and dug through her own belongings for one of the diapers she had made for Jared. Daniel had moved so quickly, and she tried to do the same. Finishing with the baby, she paused, but just briefly. She set him into Daniel’s arms to hurry down to the creek to rinse out his old diaper. It could dry while they rode.

Daniel handed her back the baby, set her on the horse, and they were on their way once again. She realized that they were going very slowly, but as nightfall neared, they had reached the Potomac River.

Daniel halted, staring out over the river. She followed behind him. Despite the war, the view was still beautiful, the mountains rising high over the water and the valleys, the colors of summer so rich and green and blue.

But Daniel wasn’t seeing the beauty of it.

“The Yanks must be holding Harpers Ferry again,” he mused. “This bridge is out. The water is swollen from all the rain. We’ll have to find somewhere else to ford the river.”

Callie nodded, but shivered. When night came, so did a chill, despite the fact that it was summer.

“Cold?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“I can’t build a fire. It could too easily be seen by night,” he told her. She nodded, understanding. “You must be very hungry.” She shrugged. Hungry? She was famished.

“You must be hungry too.”

He grinned. “I’m accustomed to hunger. I barely hear the growls or feel the claws anymore.” He watched her in the fading light. “I can’t light a fire by night. In the morning, we’ll snare a rabbit or catch some fish. We’ll—we’ll rest a few hours.”

Callie nodded and turned away from him. He passed her by, striding to the horse. “We’ll sleep on the other side of the river, over there. There’s a feeder creek for water,” he told her.

Callie didn’t answer. She followed along with him. Daniel left the road behind, leading the horse deep into the trees and down by the creek bed. Jared was starting to cry. She held back as Daniel led the horse onward to drink from the creek.

Finding a tall oak, Callie sat down before it, loosed the buttons of her bodice, and swept her shawl around herself and the baby as he nursed. She felt the familiar tug of his tiny mouth against her breast and closed her eyes, still so grateful for him. Nothing, no horror or war, no comment or fury from Daniel or anyone else, could change the fact that Jared was beautiful, a true gift from God.

The Lord did move in mysterious ways. Helga had assured her that it was so.

She opened her eyes and jumped. Daniel was back, standing before her. He was caught in shadow, and she could see nothing of his face. All she could see was his silhouette, the tall cavalier in his high black books, his frock coat a cape over broad shoulders, his sweeping plume jaunty against the night.

He watched her.

But then he turned away and spoke to her over his shoulder. “The blanket is laid out over here. Get some sleep so that we can rise early.”

He walked away from her. Hungry, weary, and very sore, Callie decided that there was little else for her to
do. She held the baby over her shoulder, waiting for little burps, and then she rose and walked over to the blanket.

Daniel was still standing there, looking out over the creek. “What is it?”

“Someone is near,” he said. He pointed in the darkness. Callie strained her eyes. She could see the flicker of a camp fire.

“Who—”

“I don’t know. Fires don’t wear colors,” he told her. “Go to sleep. We’re safe enough here for the night.”

“But you—”

“Damn it, Callie, I’m staying up awhile. Take the baby and go to sleep.”

She spun around and took the baby and laid down with him by the tree. But she didn’t sleep. She lay there, awake and waiting.

Finally, when it seemed that hours had passed, she dozed off. She woke, time and again, shivering.

Then she slept soundly. She awoke again because Jared was beginning to fuss.

Daniel was with her at last. The warmth of his body had entered into hers, and that was why she had slept so easily.

She kept her back to him while she fed the baby. She kissed Jared’s forehead, pleased that he had slipped back to sleep with his little mouth still moving.

She slipped back to sleep herself.

When she awoke in the morning, she was alone. She looked around and saw that Daniel had gathered the makings for a fire, but it seemed that he was waiting to build it.

Perhaps he was off finding something to eat. She hoped so. The pain in her stomach was sharp and cruel now.

Jared made a gurgling sound, and she glanced at him, smiling as she laid him down on the blanket. She whispered silly words to him, rubbing his tiny nose with her own, watching his smile spread across his face. His arms and legs wiggled and flailed and she laughed. He started to stare at something above her and she realized that he was fascinated with the leaves on the trees. Smiling, she left him and hurried to the water. She was desperately thirsty.

She leaned down and buried her face in the cool creek. The water was cold in the early morning, but it was delicious. She raised her face, and opened her bodice to splash the cool water against her chest. She drenched her gown, but it didn’t matter. The sun was going to rise hot and high, and it would dry her.

She reached into the water again, and then she paused.

She could hear movement across the creek.

Frozen, she watched as men began to move toward the river. There were at least ten of them, and all in Federal blue uniforms. Yankees. Her own side.

Her heart seemed to freeze.

She stood quickly, trying to back away from the creek in absolute silence.

She backed against something and almost screamed out loud. She felt hands on her shoulders, spinning her around.

Daniel was back. He held a finger to his lips. His eyes held all manner of warning. “Don’t scream, Callie.”

“I wasn’t going to scream!” she whispered back furiously. “I was going to warn you!”

She didn’t know if he believed her or not. His eyes were cobalt arid entirely enigmatic.

They heard voices carrying across the creek, and Daniel pressed on her shoulders, pulling her down low on her knees beside him.

“She can’t have gone too far. The old man said that she was traveling with a baby. That will cost our Reb friend some mean time,”

Callie’s eyes widened with dismay and disbelief as she stared across the creek.

It was Eric Dabney again. He’d stripped off his uniform shirt and was in the creek in his blue breeches, underwear shirt, and suspenders, and he was talking to the man beside him.

“Lieutenant Colonel Dabney, sir!” a soldier called out from the bank. “There’s the remains of a camp fire to our immediate east, sir!”

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Daniel murmured bitterly into Callie’s ear. “So he did receive a promotion out of me.” He turned to Callie and stared at her. “And you,” he added softly.

She wanted to shout at him, to strike him, to hurt him in some way.

It wasn’t the time.

“I think there are about twenty of them,” she warned him quietly.

“Yes, I reckon you’re right,” he agreed. He was still staring hard at her. “And you didn’t know anything about them. Or him. And you didn’t leave a message with the old folks, your Dunkard friends, when we left?”

Callie gaped at him, incredulous. Her jaw snapped shut with fury. “I could have screamed right now, you fool!” she hissed. “I could have brought every single one of them down upon you—”

“Except that I’m armed now, right, Callie?”

She wrenched free from his touch. To her amazement, he let her go. “You are incredible!” she stammered. “There are twenty of them. One of you.”

“Those are the odds we Rebs always did pride ourselves on.”

She shook her head furiously. She was so mad she wanted to spit.

She was also afraid. What was he planning on doing?

“Ten to one, Colonel. I’ve heard all the boasts. The Rebs always claim that one of them is worth ten Yanks. Not twenty.” She grit her teeth, still staring at him incredulously. “Do you have a death wish, Cameron?” She demanded harshly.

He smiled, reached for her, and jerked her close to him so that they were hunched down on the creek bank on their knees. His eyes seemed to sear into hers like the heated steel of a sword. His arms were hot, the length of his body was hot, electric, tense, and poised for battle.

“And you’re innocent this time, right, Callie? You really haven’t seen this Eric Dabney in all this time. He just happened along here today?”

Callie grit her teeth. Obviously, Eric hadn’t just “happened” by. He must have gone by the farm. And he must have found Rudy and Helga, and maybe Rudy had thought it in Callie’s best interest to say something.

She tried to keep her chin high. “Innocent of guilty, I am condemned in your eyes,” she said bitterly.

“You’re so treacherous, Callie, and so beautiful,” he said softly, and she was startled when he stroked her cheek. “Perhaps you could not be the one without the other.”

“I had nothing to do with this!” she insisted.

His reply was a grunt; his eyes were on the Yankees across the creek.

“Would you stop it!” she hissed to him. “I could scream right now if I chose to do so.”

Instantly, his eyes were back upon her. Speculative, sharp.

“If you would just trust me—”

“Never. Never again,” he said flatly. A startled cry
nearly escaped her, for suddenly she found that his hand was clamped over her lips, only to be quickly replaced with his yellow uniform bandanna, tied tight around her mouth even as she struggled against him. Her eyes widened with alarm as she wondered if he had forgotten the baby, lying peacefully beneath the tree. She fought him like a wildcat then, but he ignored her eyes and the fire of her flailing fists. He even ignored the solid punch she managed against his chest, and the sounds of desperation that sounded too quietly in her throat. He twirled her around, lacing her wrists together
behind
her back with his uniform sash.