And One Wore Gray (60 page)

“She’s killed him,” the man said to Dabney. “She’s done killed Bobby Jo.”

“He’s not dead; he’s still breathing,” Dabney said. He stared at Callie, twirling the fine end of his mustache. Heedless of the fallen man at his side, he
grinned slowly, having seen Callie about to reach for Christa’s fallen weapon. He took careful aim and a shot exploded by the gun, which forced her to wrench back her hand and stare at him furiously.

“Come here, Callie. And say thank you, will you? I’ve come to bring you home.”

“I am home,” Callie told him. “So you can just get your men—”

“I’m taking Daniel Cameron again, Callie. Dead or alive. Preferably dead. He tore up half my company the last time we met. Cost me good horses.”

“Cost you a promotion again too,” the man holding Christa supplied.

“Shut up, fool!” Dabney hissed. “This time. Callie. that Reb is going to die.”

“You didn’t best him before, and you won’t best him now!” Callie told him heatedly.

He kept his gun trained on her and walked to the window where his man now held Christa in something like a death grip.

“What have we here?” Eric asked softly.

Christa spit at him. He laughed. “Why, Callie, after I finish with you, I just might have a talk with this little lady….”

“Touch my sister-in-law,” Kiernan warned, “and my husband will see to it that you hang.”

“And just who might your husband be?”

“Colonel Jesse Cameron, Army of the Potomac,” Kiernan enunciated sharply.

“Well, Mrs. Cameron, I imagine that he’s far, far away—”

“He’s right outside with his brother,” Kiernan said.

“There’s another Yank with the Reb too,” Eric’s man muttered.

Eric looked at Callie. She smiled grimly. “Jeremy’s out there too, Eric. You’re going to war against him?”

Eric Dabney’s handsome face seemed to darken.
“Why, damn you, Callie! You’ve made a traitor of your own brother. You deserve to pay and pay dearly!”

He caught hold of her, swirling her out in front of him. Before she was aware of what he intended to do, she was staggering to her knees, taken unaware by the force of his blow. She swallowed hard, determined not to cry out. But then his fingers entwined in her hair, wrenching her back to her feet, and a cry did escape her lips.

Fury ignited within her. She swirled, despite her pain, kicking him with all of her strength and managing to draw a groan from his lips. But it was to no avail, for too quickly he had her hair again, and she was wrenched so tight against his body that she could scarcely scream.

“You and that damned Rebel! You turned me away to bed down with him! Well, that’s all over now, ma’am. This hellhole of traitors is going to light up the sky, and Daniel Cameron is going to die. I’m going to cut his throat in front of you, Callie. I’m going to let you watch your hero beg for mercy.”

Callie bit her lip. “You’re sick!” she told him.

“Maybe I am.” He turned around, suddenly taking careful aim at Kiernan. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t let out a sound. “I’ll shoot her, Callie. I’ll shoot her right now unless you start being a little helpful.”

“If Daniel doesn’t kill you, you’re going to hang,” Callie promised him softly.

“Maybe. Let’s go. You come with me now, and these two ladies will have a chance to save your brats before the flames become an inferno.”

“Light the fires!” He bellowed out the order.

Nothing happened.

Callie smiled, hating him, and wondering what could have gone so wrong with his mind that he could hate her so.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he ordered her. He
jerked her close against him. “It’s you, Callie, always you! From the beginning. You wouldn’t look at me because you had to have Michaelson! Well, lady, place that at your feet too. No battle killed him.”

She stared at Eric and gasped with horror. “You killed him! You murdered your best friend! Dear God, you bastard—”

“Just so long as you know there is nothing I won’t do, Callie,” he interrupted softly. His voice rang out again.

“Light the goddamn fires!” Eric exploded. He jerked on her hair again. “In a moment, Callie, you’ll smell the smoke.”

But there was no smoke. No sound, no fire.

“Let’s go out and get your husband, shall we, Mrs. Cameron?” Eric said to her.

Callie felt ill. She could scarcely stand. All these years she thought that she had been fighting the South.

But during all these years, it had been Eric who had declared war on her. He had killed her husband.

And now he wanted Daniel.

“Eric!” she cried suddenly. “Forget this! Forget the house, forget Daniel. Let’s forget the whole war. I’ll go with you. I’ll ride with you—”

“Too late, Callie,” he said softly. “It’s too late now. I’ve got to kill him.”

Eric dragged Callie to the doorway. He stroked her cheek with his gun.

“Keep quiet, and I may let you live. Jensen, you stay here, and keep your gun on these two.” He indicated Kiernan and Christa. “The others will be out in the barn. I’ll get help once I’ve gotten Cameron.”

Dragging Callie tightly along with him, he threw open the front door.

“Call your husband. Tell him that you need him.”

His fingers were tight on her upper arm. In a moment he would force her to do something.

To betray Daniel again….

No, Daniel would understand this time.

If he lived.

Callie couldn’t risk his life. She closed her eyes for a moment. It might not just be his life. It might be Kiernan’s and Jesse’s and Christa’s and her brother’s and John Daniel’s and …

Jared.

She twisted her head, sinking her teeth hard into Eric’s hand. She didn’t care about the rifle in his hands—she just bit down. As hard as she could.

Eric screamed out. But he didn’t release her.

She cried out, “Daniel, don’t come! It’s just what he wants you to do. Daniel, stay away—”

She saw Daniel. He had moved around the house, sneaking up on Dabney’s men, one by one. They littered the area around the house, some slumped over, either unconscious or dead, and several of them tied up like hogs.

Now he stood just below the porch in plain view. His gun was trained on Eric.

“Let her go. Now,” Daniel commanded, his tone deathly quiet.

“I’ll kill her first,” Eric said. “You drop the gun. Then she lives.”

“No!”

Callie kicked him hard, and he lost his grasp.

“Callie, no!” Daniel shrieked to her.

But she had to reach him.

She ran.

She heard simultaneous explosions of gunfire. There was a sting, high up on her temple, just like that of a bee.

She reached for her face, and her fingers came away red. She tried to turn. She didn’t need to run anymore. Eric was dead. Daniel had taken him down even as she
had burst away from him. Sightless now, Eric Dabney stared up at the sky.

Callie stumbled. She looked before her.

Daniel was running to her. His blue eyes were suddenly naked. Brilliant with color. She wanted to smile; she wanted to touch him.

She had never seen such concern. Such love. In all of her dreams, she had never imagined him looking at her as he was looking at her now.

She couldn’t quite touch him. Her fingers were numb.

“Daniel!”

She called his name again, and then she felt herself falling into his arms.

“Callie, Jesu, Callie! You’re hit!”

“There’s another man in there, Daniel. He has Christa and Kiernan—”

“Shh,” Daniel said softly, still holding her. But Callie realized that he was taking aim, that the soldier had brought Christa and Kiernan out to the porch, and was trying to use them as shields.

He fired. The man fell. Christa shrieked as he nearly dragged her down.

“Callie!” Daniel said. She could hear him, hear his voice, but he seemed very far away. She touched his cheek. It felt as if it was wet. She marveled at the feel. He did love her.

In the distance, she could hear the sounds of more gunfire. It was coming from the barn, she thought.

“I’m all right,” she told Daniel. She tried for a smile. “Flesh wound.” She grabbed onto him. She managed to stand.

“Callie!” Kiernan was there, and Christa was at her other side.

Callie forced a smile to her lips, praying that she could stand long enough to convince Daniel that she was all right. “Go.”

“I can’t—” Daniel began.

“Daniel, you must!” Kiernan urged him. “It’s Jesse and Jeremy against how many?”

Anguished, Daniel kissed Callie’s forehead, and left her in the tender care of the other women.

He dashed off toward the barn.

“Can you stand?” Kiernan asked Callie.

“No!” She laughed. “Oh, God, Kiernan, what’s going to happen now?”

“Now there are three of them, against ten,” Christa said miserably. “We should go—”

“I can’t walk!” Callie told her.

“Jesu, but are you bleeding!” Christa murmured, and she tried to dab at Callie’s forehead with her hem. She ripped up her petticoat, creating a bandage. “Jesse will see to it!” she said, worried. “As soon as he comes back!”

The firing was becoming far more fierce at the barn. Dabney was dead, and they still might lose, Callie realized. There were just the three of them, Daniel and Jesse and Jeremy, and there were Eric’s men, entrenched in the barn, with rapid-fire weapons and plenty of ammunition.

They heard the sound of a bugle. Troops were coming.

“My God,” Christa whispered. “Are they, ours?”

Callie wondered if it mattered. She closed her eyes, fighting to remain conscious.

For a moment, the firing increased, then all was silence.

“Oh, Kiernan!” Callie cried, and holding tight to her sister-in-law, she watched.

Moments later, Jesse, Jeremy, and Daniel were marching her way. Her brother and her brother-in-law in blue, her husband in gray.

Behind them rode a small group of Confederate horsemen.

Daniel was alive; Eric was dead. Rebels were here now, and so were Jesse and Jeremy. “Colonel Cameron!”

The bewhiskered head of the Confederate soldier called to Daniel. He didn’t pause, not until he reached Callie. He put his arm around her, then turned back to the Confederate militia captain.

“Colonel Cameron, just what is going on here?”

“They attacked our house. We fought them,” Daniel said simply.

“But what about—these two?” the man demanded. “I’ll have to take them with me, sir—”

“No,” Daniel said firmly. “Not unless you want to arrest me too.” He hesitated. “Captain, these men chose a different side, but this was a private war.”

The captain stared at Jesse. Obviously, he had known him at some earlier, different date.

“Colonel Cameron, have you—become a Reb?”

Jesse shook his head. “No, sir. I can’t say that I have. But these men attacked my house. I fought for it.”

“They attacked my sister,” Jeremy exclaimed.

“Well, then—” the captain began.

“Sir,” Daniel said, “On my honor, nothing was exchanged here. No information. Nothing. We brought down twenty Yanks. You can bring them all in. But couldn’t we just pretend that you didn’t see these two? On my honor, sir, I’ll have them back with their own armies by tomorrow!”

“On my honor, sir!” Jeremy said.

“On my honor,” Jesse agreed. “We’ll be gone. Sir, we were fighting for my home!”

The captain, still confused, sighed.

At his left, one of his men murmured, “This is highly irregular, sir—”

That comment seemed to make up the captain’s mind. “I have never doubted the word of a Cameron, ever. Be he my countryman, or my foe. Gentlemen!”
He turned to his troops. “We’ll clean up here and leave these people be!”

A cheer went up. A Rebel yell. Callie smiled. “Oh, Daniel!” she whispered.

The darkness she had fought so strenuously came crashing down upon her. Despite her very best efforts, she fainted in his arms.

Minutes later—or eons later?—she opened her eyes. A pair of brilliant blue eyes met hers, but they weren’t Daniel’s. They were Jesse’s.

She was no longer on the ground in front of the house. She was lying on a plump sofa in the parlor.

“There, I told you! She’s back with us,” Jesse said.

The room ceased to spin. She hadn’t died, it wasn’t heaven.

It was the next best thing. It was Cameron Hall. Still standing. And there were faces within it. Faces that stared down at her with grave concern. Kiernan’s face, and Christa’s face, and her brother’s and Janey’s. Even Jigger was there, watching over her too.

She tried to smile. Where was Daniel?

Behind Jesse. Jesse suddenly moved, and Daniel was there, sitting beside her.

She stared into those eyes searchingly. He bent low and kissed her forhead. “Jess said it was just a flesh wound. It scared the hell out of me, all right.”

“Daniel …” She whispered.

“She’s going to be fine, trust me,” Jesse told the others. “She needs rest.” He cleared his throat. “That means you, too, Daniel.”

Daniel nodded; but he didn’t move. The others cleared out of the room.

“Daniel …”

“Don’t talk.”

“I love you, Daniel.”

“I know that you do. I love you too.”

She smiled, feeling her eyes flicker shut again. “It doesn’t really matter what we are, does it, Daniel?”

His fingers smoothed more hair from her forehead, and he smiled tenderly. “What we were today mattered,” he told her softly. “We were a family, all of us. Brothers again, not enemies, Jesse and I. Even Jeremy. Protecting the house and those we love.”

“But it’s my fault that he came here—”

“No more than it was my fault for bringing you here, Callie.”

She shivered, violently. “No, Daniel, you don’t understand! Eric hated me. Because I spurned him, I suppose. I didn’t even realize it. Daniel, he—he killed my first husband!”

“Shh. I know. Kiernan told me.”

“You could have lost Cameron Hall.”

“I could have lost you.”

“I nearly lost you! Daniel, you went after so many of them—”

“But my brother stood with me. And your brother stood with me. And it’s going to be all right. Sleep.”

Tears touched her eyes. “I can’t sleep. You’re going to be leaving too soon.”