One Wore Blue (49 page)

The firing had stopped. The battle was over.

He stepped out of the tent. It was nearly dusk, and it was quiet on this side of the stream, and quiet on the other.

A soldier was hurrying past. Jesse caught hold of his arm. “What’s happened?”

“We got beat back in most places, Colonel. We’re pulling out of here now. Setting up camp due east. There’s still some wounded right across the stream. But be careful, sir. There’s still Rebs around.”

“Order my men out except for Corporal O’Malley. Tell them to break down into the wagons, but leave the canvas standing and leave behind my instrument bags. If I find anyone, O’Malley can assist me.”

“Yes, sir, Colonel Cameron. Don’t forget there’s still Rebs out there.”

“Thanks. Don’t forget I rode regular cavalry for years.”

“Yes, sir!” The soldier grinned. “Is that all, sir?”

Jesse nodded, then hurried to the stream. He crossed through the water, and it was so cold that he could feel it even through his high black boots.

Then he stood still. The scene before him was one of contrast. The stream itself was peaceful, with its cool water dancing over rocks and fallen branches.

But by that stream lay the bodies of the fallen. Jesse looked from the bloodred skies of the coming dusk to the devastation in human life spread before him.

He went from man to man. Bodies covered in blue were intertwined with bodies clothed in gray. He bent down and sought pulses on both.

“Jesse!”

He was startled to hear his name called. Standing, he looked around the field. He felt a shudder rip through him.

An officer was calling to him, a cavalry officer in gray.

Daniel.

He ran across the field and fell to his knees at his brother’s side. Daniel’s hand was clutched low over his gut. His fingers were sticky with blood.

“Damn you, Daniel!” Jesse swore. “I told you to keep your head down.”

“I did keep my head down!” Daniel insisted. “He shot me
in the gut!” He tried to smile but winced and went white, and his eyelids fell as he lost consciousness.

Jesse ripped open his brother’s frock coat and shirt. A quick probe with his fingers told him that the bullet was still in Daniel’s body. He had to remove it as soon as possible. And he had to suture some of the blood vessels. But Daniel was weak. He’d lost a lot of blood and was losing more and more of it as minutes passed by.

“I’ve got to get you to the field tent.”

“Yank, you touch the captain again,” a voice suddenly warned him, “and you’ll need a field tent yourself!”

Jesse turned around, inwardly damning himself. He should have been listening, he should have been paying attention. But his brother was wounded, and he hadn’t heard the approach of the two Rebel soldiers who were now aiming their rifles at him.

“He needs help,” Jesse said.

“Well, he don’t need it from no Yank! We’ve come for him—he’s our captain.”

“You can’t take him. If he’s not helped right away, he’ll die.”

“Hell, you’d kill him if we gave you a chance! But we ain’t gonna give no Yankee surgeon that chance. Get your hands off him, and we’ll let you live. We’ve got some fine southern prisons.”

“You fools!” Jesse swore suddenly. Ignoring them, he hefted his brother into his arms and faced the two. “He’s my brother! And I’m a damned good surgeon, and I won’t let my own flesh and blood die! I’m taking him. So shoot me!”

The two men looked at each other, then stared at Jesse.

“Tom,” one said, “the captain does have a Yank brother who’s a surgeon.”

The other man asked suspiciously, “How do we know that you’re his brother?”

“Hell, just look at me!” Jesse swore with exasperation, and started walking forward. “I haven’t time for this.”

He heard the click of a gun. He scarcely hesitated. Daniel was rousing.

“Daniel, will you tell these blind soldiers of yours that I’m your brother?”

Daniel grimaced. “Boys, he’s my brother! Oh, hell, Jess! Are you taking me back to the Union lines?”

“Yep.” He didn’t add that he had no choice if he was going to live.

“Captain!” the soldier called Tom called.

“Get on back, boys. Jesse’ll patch me up right as rain, and I’ll be back myself then.”

The Rebels still wouldn’t let Jesse pass. Tom stubbornly stood his ground.

“Supposin’ you save the captain, Doc. They’ll take him to one of your Yankee camps. Maybe they’ll try him and shoot him as a spy. Maybe one of those other Yank sawbones will get his hands on him—”

“You think I’m going to let them take my brother to a prison camp!” Jesse exploded.

The men stared at him for a minute. “How you gonna stop ’em?” Tom asked.

Jesse could feel his brother’s blood, warm and wet against him. “I give you my word, I won’t let them take my brother. Now, either shoot me, and shoot to kill, or let me pass. He’s bleeding, and he needs help fast.”

This time, the men let him pass.

Jesse bore Daniel’s weight across the stream. Daniel’s eyes were half open.

“Am I going to make it, Jess?”

“You sure are. I won’t let you die.”

“If you think I’m going to die, will you try to get me home? I sure would like to go home, Jess.”

“So would I,” Jesse told him. “So would I.”

He had never felt the yearning to be at Cameron Hall so strongly. He wanted to be home, and he wanted Kiernan to be there. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to touch the beauty of new life, to sit before a fire with her, to stare out upon the river. He could almost see it.

Daniel groaned, and the image was dispelled. His throat tightened until he almost choked on it.

God, if you ever let me save a life, please, let it be this life, he prayed.

The last daylight faded as he carried his brother into his hospital field tent and tenderly laid him down.

Twenty-Two

Kiernan didn’t think she’d ever been on a longer or more grueling journey than the one she took that April.

Rains had washed away much of the roads. The war had kept them from being repaired.

She often climbed down from the wagon to walk as Tyne and Jacob set their shoulders to help the horses pull it over a deep pock or scar. They had to stop for fallen trees and move them, and they had to stop from sheer exhaustion. With no accommodations nearby, they slept in the wagon, the four of them together, huddled tight for warmth.

There were continual stops for the soldiers.

Just as they had come down the drive from Montemarte, Thomas had returned and given Kiernan a pass that he had procured from a Yankee colonel. It would get her through the Yankee lines, he had assured her.

She thanked Thomas heartily. It had not even occurred to her that she might need such a document. But during the journey, it had stood to her advantage a number of times.

Northern Virginia was a very curious place these days, she realized quickly. Yanks were here, Rebs were there, and towns of total devastation lay in between.

It was not possible for them to take a direct route. They were on the road for a week before they reached Richmond, where they learned that the armies were engaged in a number of serious battles right on the outskirts of the city. Yanks
had come from the peninsula in huge numbers. All along the frontiers of the southern capital, the magnificent boys in gray were repelling the invaders.

“On to Richmond!” the Yankees cried.

But the southern boys, commanded by the genteel and remarkable Robert E. Lee, were holding them back. Jeb Stuart’s cavalry had actually ridden right around the enemy.

The tension in the city was crackling. She had never imagined that Richmond could be anything like it was now—so vastly overcrowded. The roads were filled with soldiers—and politicians. Prices had skyrocketed with the influx of so many people. Janey went off to buy food and came back grumbling that she hadn’t even enough money for a potato.

Kiernan, exhausted and overwhelmed by all they had learned in Richmond, stood by the wagon and told Janey not to worry. “Spend whatever you have to spend. We’ll rest tonight here and try to make home by tomorrow night.”

“Miz Kiernan,” Tyne told her, “you ain’t been listening. The soldier boys been fightin’ right outside the city. There’s a defense ring around it. They ain’t gonna let us through.”

“They’re letting us through,” Kiernan said stubbornly. “All I want is to go home!” she exclaimed. “And they’re not going to stop me—the Rebels or the Yankees!”

She took Patricia and Jacob to a restaurant near the beautiful capitol building while Tyne and Janey went to see about accommodations for the evening.

She remembered the restaurant well. She and her father had come here often enough in earlier years. Now there was a crowd in the front, waiters in line to get in. She managed to get close enough to see inside.

At least it hadn’t changed. The tables were covered in snowy-white cloths, the silver and crystal were elegant, and a violinist played while the diners ate and chatted. Entering the restaurant, Kiernan realized they were hardly dressed for the elegance of the place, which had persevered despite the war. Her voluminous cape hid her condition amazingly well, and the children somehow managed to present themselves at their best despite their days upon the road.

She was dismayed by the line of people waiting for tables.
The sight of them all nearly made her burst into tears, she was so exhausted. Worrying about John Mackay had taken its toll on her, and sleeping in the wagon had not been easy. She was always uncomfortable these days with so much weight to carry about. But she was also determined, and usually, no matter what, she was able to remain calm.

But this long line to eat a decent meal was nearly her undoing.

“Why, Mrs. Miller!”

A man was coming across the room toward them. He was tall and lean and dressed in an impeccable dove-gray frock coat and white ruffled shirt. Kiernan could have sworn she had never seen him before, but he seemed to know her.

She glanced at Jacob anxiously. “Who is that?”

“I’m not sure!” Jacob whispered back. “Maybe he’s one of your business partners.”

“Business!” she exclaimed suddenly. Patricia, exhausted too, opened her innocent brown eyes wide to Kiernan. Kiernan just smiled. “Miller Firearms,” she murmured. “They’ll get us home.”

“Mrs. Miller!”

The man Was upon them. A spark of life invaded Kiernan’s system, and she extended her hand for the man to kiss. “I saw you last in Charles Town,” the man said, “at the trial of the detestable John Brown. You were still Miss Mackay back then. I heard about your husband, and I’m so very sorry. Still, everything is still moving smoothly here in Richmond. Andrew Miller, Thomas Donahue, and your father picked the perfect site for their operation in the Shenandoah Valley!”

“Yes, they were very clever, Mr.…?”

“Norman. Niles Norman, Mrs. Miller, at your service. If there’s anything at all that I could do for you—”

“Why, actually, sir, there is. My throat is parched, and the poor children have been standing for ages. You see, I’m trying to reach my father right now. He’s quite ill, I’m afraid. We’ve taken a loathsome journey in a wagon, what with the railroads being so dangerous, to be with him. And now—well, we’re famished, and exhausted, and …”

She allowed her hand to flutter in the air and a tear to moisten her eye.

Jacob looked at her with a cocked brow.

Niles Norman was immediately at her service.

They didn’t have to wait a moment longer. Niles knew someone in the right place, and soon they were sitting. A few minutes later, a beautiful rack of lamb sat before them with mint jelly and sweet potatoes and green pole beans dripping with sweet-cream butter.

Kiernan didn’t think that food had ever tasted quite so good.

Niles Norman remained with them, chatting about the war. The Yankees were breathing right down their necks in Richmond, but they weren’t afraid, not a bit. General Lee would keep them out.

Kiernan smiled sweetly. “Then we shouldn’t have any problem getting through down on the peninsula, should we?”

Niles Norman frowned. “Now, Mrs. Miller, it just doesn’t seem to be the right time—”