Authors: Ginny Dye
“Want us to shoot some bullets into the woods?” one voice called cheerfully.
Carrie wondered if she should risk revealing her position by allowing Granite his head in a dash through the woods.
The captain’s next words reassured her. “Don’t waste the bullets, men. We don’t really need Miss Carrie Cromwell. It was her horse I wanted. If she is in there, you could risk shooting that fine animal. I don’t want that. She outwitted us this time.” His voice was amused. “We won’t always win the game.” Then he paused. “That was one of the finest pieces of riding I ever witnessed. I still can’t believe she jumped that fence. And bareback! Good Lord!”
Carrie grinned again. She had a feeling in different circumstances she would have liked the captain.
“Let’s go, men. Carrie Cromwell has her horse, but we have her plantation, her slaves, and all her crops. We haven’t done too badly.”
Carrie’s grin disappeared as the triumph of her daring escape evaporated. The captain was right. They hadn’t done too badly.
It took only minutes for her to be assured she was alone once more. Only then did she slip her father’s shirt off and rip a large piece off with her teeth. Granite stood quietly. Carrie gritted her teeth as she wrapped the heavy cloth around her neck and under her armpit. She pulled tightly, wincing at the pain, until she was sure there was sufficient pressure to staunch her shoulder’s bleeding. She shook her head to push away her lightheadedness and pressed her lips together in determination.
She gave Granite his head, knowing he would follow the trail they had entered on. She would be in Richmond by morning.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Carrie moved slowly but steadily all night. Only twice had she been forced to emerge from the protection of the woods to travel on main roads
and then only for a few minutes before she ducked back onto another hidden trail. She had gradually relaxed as she rode along. She had not heard anything other than animals and had not encountered another living being. She would be in Richmond in a couple of hours. Just as the sun was coming up.
Suddenly a crashing in the bushes alerted her. Granite snorted and threw his head up in protest. “Easy,” Carrie whispered quietly. Granite planted his feet and refused to budge another inch, his eyes riveted on the clump of bushes in front of them. Carrie stared wide-eyed at the bushes. What was there? She knew it was something, or someone, but it was too dark to see anything.
She summoned her courage and spoke sharply. “Who goes there?” She tried to make her voice deep.
“I’m a Confederate soldier, ma’am,” a voice came back to her. “You ain’t got no reason to be afraid.”
Carrie sagged in relief. Whoever he was, he surely didn’t sound dangerous. “What are you doing out here?”
“Trying to figure out how to get to Cromwell Plantation, ma’am.” The voice grew a little more hopeful. “It’s real important I get there, ma’am. Can you tell me how far it is? I kind of got turned around.”
“Why do you need to get to Cromwell Plantation?” Carrie demanded. Maybe this was just another trick of some kind. Her heart started beating rapidly again as she imagined a Yankee soldier laughing derisively and striding out of the bushes once she had revealed her true identity. “And why are you hiding in those bushes?”
There was a slight hesitation and then he spoke again. “Can’t really come out of these bushes, ma’am. I’m right embarrassed to say so, but I’m afraid I ... I only... Well, you see, ma’am…,” he finally blurted out, “I only got underwear on.”
“What?” Carrie exclaimed. “Why ever for?” Her confusion deepened. Why in the world was a Confederate soldier roaming around in the woods with only his underwear?
“I had a run-in with a good-for-nothing slave hunter,” he said bitterly. “He knocked me out. Then he stole my uniform and my horse.” He paused. “When I came to, I guess I was still a little fuzzy. Somehow I got all turned around.” Then his voice grew a little desperate. “But I got to get to Cromwell Plantation. It’s real important.”
“Why?” Carrie asked bluntly. Her heart was telling her she could trust whoever was in the bushes. He sounded young and very vulnerable. His voice was also oddly familiar.
“My lieutenant sent me on a mission. That’s really all I can tell you.”
Carrie had a sudden wild thought. “Might that be Lieutenant Robert Borden?”
There was a sudden rustling in the bushes. Then a shocked voice. “You know my lieutenant, ma’am?”
“I might. Just who am I speaking to?”
“My name is Warren Hobbs.”
Carrie almost laughed aloud with relief. “Hobbs! Is that really you? I thought your voice sounded strangely familiar.” There was another shocked silence. She could imagine Hobbs’ frustration at his need to stay hidden in the bushes.
“Do I know you, ma’am?” came the careful reply.
Carrie was impressed with his cautiousness. He wasn’t going to give away anything unless he had to. This time she did laugh aloud. “This is Carrie Cromwell, Hobbs. I met you when you were wounded after the battle.”
She heard a gasp and then saw the shadowy outline of a face staring through the bushes. “You’re all right! I’ve been worrying myself sick that I wasn’t going to make it to the plantation on time. The lieutenant would have never forgiven me.”
Carrie smiled to herself. Evidently Robert had sent him after her. Then she frowned. “Hobbs, wait right here. I’m going back to get some clothes for you. I passed a little house not too far back. I’m sure there was no one there.”
“You think there are clothes there, ma’am?” Hobbs’ voice was almost pathetically hopeful.
“I’m going to find out,” Carrie said firmly.
“Are you sure it’s safe, ma’am?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ll be back soon.” She wasn’t nearly as sure as she sounded when she turned around to retrace her steps. Granite bobbed his head in protest of the change in direction. He, too, knew there could be danger lurking behind them, but she really had no choice. She couldn’t leave Hobbs standing in the woods with nothing on, and he certainly couldn’t show up in Richmond like that.
Her heart was pounding as she slowly rode up to the deserted little house. She stopped and listened for several long minutes before she dismounted, gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and edged quietly toward the house. Once she got inside, there might not be enough light to find anything. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. The door opened easily under her touch. Fighting to control her desire to turn and run, she edged into the tiny room and then stood motionless, trying to steady her breathing. Finally, she was convinced there was no one in the house.
Willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness, Carrie gazed around the room. Finally, right next to where she was standing, she thought she detected the outline of a coat or something on the wall. She reached out and encountered the rough feeling of wool. Quickly, she grabbed whatever it was and pulled it toward her. It was indeed a coat. More groping produced a pair of pants and what seemed to be a shirt. Carrie clutched them under her good arm and left the house. She pulled Granite next to the porch so she could mount, knowing her shoulder wouldn’t allow her to swing up. Moments later he was trotting down the trail. He, too, was eager to make up for lost time.
When Carrie came even with where she thought they had been before, she called softly, “Hobbs?”
“I’m right here, Miss Cromwell. I was afraid you might not be able to find me again.”
Carrie spoke quickly. “I have some clothes for you. I’m going to throw them down and ride several yards ahead. Let me know when you’re dressed.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” came the fervent reply.
Carrie waited, staring in the darkness and fretting at the delay. She felt better riding under the protective covering of darkness.
“I’m here, Miss Cromwell. And I got to tell you. I don’t know that I’ve ever been this embarrassed. I was supposed to be rescuing you. Now here you are rescuing me.” Hobbs’ voice was deeply chagrined.
Carrie felt a deep sympathy for him. She remembered his devotion to Robert. She was sure he had jumped at the chance to do something for his lieutenant. Then she remembered what he had said earlier about the man who had jumped him. “You said your attacker was a slave hunter?”
“Yes, ma’am. The fool even told me his name before he attacked me. A fellow by the name of Adams.”
Carrie’s lips thinned. “I take it he didn’t want you to reach the plantation.”
“No, ma’am. He wanted me to turn back and let him go on to the plantation to warn you. When I refused, he let me have it.”
Carrie flushed with anger. Once she told her father this story he could not possibly be angry with her for throwing Adams off the plantation. A small smile replaced the anger. She chuckled, “I guess it’s true that God knows how to turn the bad things to good, Hobbs.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Carrie said briskly. “How do the clothes fit?”
“Well, let’s just say there’s plenty of room in here.”
Carrie’s laughter rang through the woods. It was good not to be alone any more. The woods weren’t nearly so scary with someone else there. But the need to reach Richmond was still critical.
Hobbs stepped forward. “If you’ll give me a hand up, I can swing up beside you.”
Carrie hesitated, once more aware of the pain raging in her shoulder. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Hobbs.” Now that the newest excitement was dying down she found it harder to hide the pain in her voice.
“Are you okay, Miss Cromwell?” Hobbs asked sharply.
“I was shot during my escape,” Carrie stated calmly.
“Shot?” Hobbs cried in a horrified voice.
Carrie tried to sound matter-of-fact. “It’s nothing that can’t be taken care of when we reach Richmond. We just have to get there.” She paused and thought for a moment. “I guess we’ll have to backtrack to that little house again. You can use the porch to get on behind me.”
Hobbs followed her to the house, and within minutes they were once more on their way toward safety.