“Why didn’t you just kill him for me?” She felt a sob coming on.
“Because he would have killed me first.”
Was he joking?
“Carrie Ann, I knew a long time ago Rodingham was an evil man, but I was ordered to work with him. So I tried to play his game while limiting the damage as much as possible. Tonight he went too far, and I can’t say I’m sorry to see him gone.”
“Neither am I sorry, although”—she gulped—“I never killed a man before.” Her gaze bounced from Rodingham’s lifeless form to Joshua.
“You thinkin’ you’d like to see me dead too, Carrie Ann?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, you might hate me for fighting the Yanks, and that includes your husband, but I’ll always be your friend. And you will always be the same as my little sister. Nothing will change that.” He steered her out of the library ahead of him. “Now, you go see about that injured boy and those other women while I get out of here.”
Carrie felt numb, dazed, as if this were all a bad dream. She made her way to the foyer, where she found Aunt Ruth comforting Meredith while Tabitha fanned herself and muttered up a prayer.
“Oh, my dear girl … are you all right?”
Was she? “Yes, I think so.”
Aunt Ruth embraced her with one arm but held on to Meredith with the other.
Tommy!
Carrie inched her way forward. She stared at the blood where the young man had fallen.
Tommy was gone.
CHAPTER 26
Something didn’t feel right. It was too quiet, the air too still. Certainly, Peyton was aware of horses’ hooves, plodding along on the dirt road as he and his men traveled farther outside of town. Bridles and weaponry jangled and clanked. Around them, the night was alive with trills from tree frogs and the chirp of crickets. But no sounds of an uprising. Only the eerie sound of silence before an ambush.
Peyton held up a hand and halted his men.
Vern pulled up beside him. “What are you thinking, sir?”
“Nothing good.” He pointed straight ahead. Mottles of moonlight fell over the pike. “We’re coming up to Hanson’s Woods—at least that’s what Aunt Ruth called it when I was a boy. I have this strange sensation that the Rebs might be lying in wait for our arrival.”
“The same thought occurred to me, sir.”
Affirmation. “Then we’ll disappoint the enemy tonight, Major. Order your men to return to Winchester. The uprising proved false.”
“Yes, sir.”
Peyton turned his horse around. While he wasn’t afraid of a fight, he refused to sacrifice good soldiers simply because the area was dark and unfamiliar to most of them. But he especially wouldn’t engage if it was, indeed, an ambush. For all he knew the enemy outnumbered and outgunned him. Peyton would much rather meet the foe on his terms.
A shout signaled a rider’s approach. Murmurs of “hold your fire” and “Tommy to see the colonel” soon reached Peyton. He dismounted while questions swirled around his head.
“Sir, sir …” Tommy sounded winded.
“What is it?” Peyton took hold of the bay’s bridle strap, wondering why the lad slouched so far forward. “Tommy?”
He straightened, and moonlight illuminated the bloody wound below his left shoulder.
“D ear God … what happened?”
“Shot, sir.”
A little moan, and then Tommy slid sideways. Peyton caught him and lowered him to the ground.
“I need some light!” Peyton ordered. “Keep a lookout, men, for the enemy.”
A soldier handed Petyon a folding pocket lantern. Once the candles were lit, several officers gathered closer to hide the glow if the enemy should be in close proximity. Peyton tore open the front of Tommy’s shirt and inspected the wound. Blood leaked out with every heartbeat. Peyton removed his handkerchief, placed it over the wound, and applied pressure. Tommy had likely used every ounce of energy he possessed to ride hard and catch up to Peyton’s regiment.
“Shot in the back. It came straight through me.”
Sure enough. Peyton felt the wet, sticky hole beneath the boy’s left shoulder blade. Tommy was losing blood quickly. “Who did this?” He would see that the perpetrator was brought to justice.
“Roddy.”
The name was familiar.
“There was trouble … I went for … the pistol.” Tommy labored to inhale. “Roddy shot me. I played possum and heard him go after Miss Carrie Ann next … Not sure how it happened, sir … but I believe Miss Carrie Ann killed him … she shot Roddy …” Tommy wheezed. “The other man fled alone.”
Peyton got the picture. “Johnston!” He tried not to let his panic show in his tone.
“Sir?”
“Take some of your men, return to my home, and investigate.”
“On my way, sir.”
“Are the ladies all right, Tommy?”
“Yeah, I think …”
“And get a doctor,” Peyton added.
“Yes, sir.” Vern clamped a hand on Peyton’s shoulder. “Sounds like God protected them.”
Peyton prayed it was so.
Vern called orders to his men. Within seconds, horses and riders galloped down the pike.
Looking back at Tommy, Peyton implored him to relax. The more excited he became, the more blood spurted from his wound. At this rate, he’d bleed out. “Easy, now.”
Two privates approached. They claimed to have medical experience, so Peyton inched away. One medic gave the boy sips of water from a canteen while the other held pressure on his wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding. They arrived at the conclusion that there wasn’t much they could do without supplies.
“You’re going to be just fine, Tommy.” While Peyton hoped so with all his heart, he feared the opposite was true.
“Sir … please listen to me.”
“Of course.” Peyton sat back on his haunches.
Tommy took another labored breath. “The second man … Major Brown.”
“Brown? No, it couldn’t have been him. I sent him to jail for accosting Carrie. Remember? You were the one who told me and identified him.”
“It was him, sir … except … Miss Carrie Ann … she called him Joshua.”
Joshua! Carrie’s friend from Woodstock. Could they be one and the same man? Had to be. No wonder Carrie begged for leniency on his behalf. Anger simmered inside of him.
“I’ll see that we find him.”
Tommy made choking sounds, and blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. The volunteer medics held him upright.
“He needs a doctor,” Peyton said. “A surgeon.” Please, God, not Tommy. He’s too young to die.
“He won’t make the trip, sir,” the medic on Peyton’s left said. “He’s dying.”
They were words Peyton didn’t want to hear. But it was true.
“I’m proud of you, Tommy.” Peyton leaned forward and grasped the young man’s right hand. “The Union army is proud of you, and because of your bravery, loyalty, and excellent horsemanship, I’m granting your request to enlist. Furthermore, I’m recommending that you be immediately promoted to the rank of corporal. I am confident our commanders will agree.”
Each of the medics congratulated the boy.
Tommy attempted a smile and looked fondly at Peyton. The kid didn’t even have a last name. He’d been orphaned as a newborn and passed from one orphanage to another. But he’d found a family among the United States cavalrymen.
Peyton affectionately squeezed Tommy’s hand. The boy tried to speak but couldn’t manage it. Then his body went limp, his head dropped back, and that familiar vacancy seeped into Tommy’s eyes.
Peyton momentarily bowed his head. The urge to weep nearly choked him.
“That was a nice thing you done, Colonel,” said the private on Peyton’s left. “It’s just what Tommy wanted.”
Peyton didn’t trust his voice to reply. He’d worked hard to keep Tommy out of the army so he could protec
t the kid.
“May you rest in peace, Tommy-boy,” the other medic said. “You were a good kid.”
The other private crossed himself and mumbled up a prayer.
Peyton stared at Tommy’s lifeless form. His chest muscles constricted until he winced, and with a heavy heart, he ordered his men to tie his young friend’s body to the horse on which he’d ridden out here. Peyton would take Tommy back to Piccadilly Place and see that he had a decent burial—and with the Collier name since he didn’t have one of his own.
As for Major Brown—Joshua—that man was as good as dead!
Carrie couldn’t stop shaking. She’d never killed a man, and now the reality of it was sinking in. Thou shalt not kill … oh, God, forgive me. Except she couldn’t see how she had any other choice.
Standing near the hearth in the parlor, she listened as Aunt Ruth, Tabitha, and Meredith relayed the events to Major Johnston. He made notes in a record book while behind him soldiers carried off Rodingham’s body.
Carrie’s shuddering intensified.
“It wasn’t a robbery or a raid. It was a plot to harm Carrie Ann,” Aunt Ruth declared.
“A downright wicked man,” Tabitha huffed. “He was the same one who wanted to steal Miss Carrie Ann’s horse when she first come here. She had some words with him and he wanted to shoot her then and there, but Colonel Kent stepped in.”
“So what you’re telling me is that the deceased—this man, Roddy—had reasons for revenge.”
“He sure did,” Tabitha replied.
“Clearly, Vern,” Meredith said, “it was self-defense.”
“I believe you and Mrs. Collier, without question. Even so, I’ll have to make out a report, which is the reason for my inquiries.”
Alone on the settee, Meredith arranged her skirts. “Be sure to take down my account.”
Major Johnston nodded at his wife. “Go ahead.”
“I watched in horror as that Roddy fellow went after Carrie Ann. But God saw fit to put mercy into Major Brown’s heart. He slipped her his weapon. That’s what she used to kill that devil Roddy.”
“Is this true, Mrs. Collier?”
“Y-yes.”
Johnston made a note. “I will relay this information to the colonel as soon as he arrives.”
“When will that be?” Carrie hoped soon. Peyton’s presence always calmed her.
“I expect him anytime.” Johnston gave her a sympathetic grin.
“Do you suppose Peyton took Tommy to the hospital?” Worry lines formed on Aunt Ruth’s forehead. “After all, he did require medical attention.”
“Tommy … of course.” Carrie cupped her face with her hands. She had been replaying tonight’s tragic events in her mind when she ought to have been praying for Tommy. “I hope he’s all right.”
“The poor brave boy.” Aunt Ruth’s eyes were round and sad. “He was determined to find you, Major Johnston, and Peyton, even with a bullet in his shoulder.”
“He succeeded, although I must be honest, ladies, Tommy was feeling poorly by the time he reached us.”
Major Johnston suggested they pray together, and Carrie was more than happy to agree to it. The mere thought of prayer quelled her trembling.
Taking hands, they bowed their heads and petitioned the God of the universe on Tommy’s behalf. Major Johnston concluded with, “Not our will be done tonight, Lord Jesus, but Thine. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever and ever.”
After a collective “amen,” Tabitha made her way to the parlor door. “If you all will excuse me, I’ll go and fix us some hot tea.”
“Thank you, Tabitha dear. A cup of tea is always soothing.” Aunt Ruth placed her arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “Perhaps you’d like to change into your nightclothes. I know I would. Then let’s us ladies meet in my chamber with our tea. That way Major Johnston won’t have any interruptions when he gives his report to Peyton.”
Carrie liked the idea and nodded. “I’d rather not be alone right now anyway.”
After bidding Major Johnston good night, Carrie took to the stairs. She walked down the hallway and opened the door to her new quarters. Just inside the darkened corridor, she struck a match and lit the wall sconce, followed by a table lamp. The latter in hand, she walked the rest of the way into her new bedroom, complete with its own sitting room.
Aunt Ruth wasn’t far behind, and offered to unfasten Carrie’s borrowed wedding gown. Carrie gratefully accepted. Afterward, Aunt Ruth headed off to her own bedroom and Carrie finished undressing. She suddenly felt physically drained, as if she’d spent the day climbing Massanutten Mountain. Trembling, her mind numb, she decided against joining Aunt Ruth and Meredith for tea. Instead, she’d thaw her thoughts and attempt to make sense out of what happened tonight.
If only Peyton would return.
Carrie padded to the window and opened it a crack. The mild October breeze sailed in, carrying with it a remnant of sweet honeysuckle from the vine that grew alongside the window. Horses nickered somewhere below.
Carrie pulled on her wrapper and headed toward the door, but Peyton entered the room before she reached it.
“I’m so glad to see you.” She ran to him and didn’t stop until her body collided with his, and her arms held him fast. She pressed her cheek against his rough wool jacket. How safe and protected she felt within his embrace.
Peyton kissed the top of her head. “Are you all right?”
“Shaken, but unharmed.”
“Good.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Carrie, we have to talk.” He pushed the door closed with the toe of his boot.
“I killed a man, Peyton. I didn’t want to, but I felt sure he’d hurt me if I didn’t.”
“I know, and I believe you did the only thing you could.” He held her at arm’s length and peered into her face. His expression was solemn. “But now I need you to tell me the truth. Is Major John Brown’s real first name Joshua?”
She blinked. He knew. Well, she wasn’t going to lie and she told Joshua that. “Yes, it is.” Her breathing came more quickly. She obviously had some explaining to do, but, like she’d told Joshua, she wouldn’t lie to Peyton.
“Is he the same Joshua who was your childhood playmate?”
“Yes.”
Peyton released her and hung his head back. “You’ve been protecting him all this time?”
“No, not protecting him. Please, let me explain.”
“You lied to me, Carrie.”
“No …”
“You deceived me!”
“Not intentionally.” When Peyton didn’t reply, she hurried on. “The night I left camp I reasoned that Joshua had deserted the Confederacy and worked for General Sheridan. He made me promise not to reveal his identity then, and I agreed, thinking it was for the good of his mission. I didn’t think I’d see him again … and I didn’t, until tonight.”
“But you still didn’t say anything, even after he accosted you on the footbridge.”
“I wanted to, but … I had given my word not to expose him. Peyton, he’d been like my older brother all my life.” She exhaled. “Now, I suppose he’s my enemy. He’s a Confederate spy, isn’t he?”
“I suspect so. Yes.”
“But he did save my life tonight by handing off his pistol to me so I could protect myself against Rodingham. I suppose that’s something.” If Peyton knew that, perhaps Joshua wouldn’t be hanged.
“Did it ever occur to you, Carrie, that had you been honest with me from the start, tonight’s tragedy could have been avoided?”
Tragedy? Is that how he saw Rodingham’s death?
“No, of course you didn’t. All you cared about was protecting your friend.”
She winced at his raised voice. “That’s not true, Peyton.”
He began to pace, his hands now clasped behind his back. “Did you give him any information?”
“No. I would never do anything of the sort, and Joshua knew better than to ask.”
“How did he
get out of jail?”
“Rodingham bragged about overpowering the two soldiers who accompanied Joshua.”
“Hmm …”
Why did Carrie feel as though she was the perpetrator? “I didn’t think by merely shutting my mouth I’d commit any wrongdoing.” Usually the opposite got her in trouble.
Peyton halted and stared at her. “Tommy’s dead, Carrie.”
“No!” She pulled her calico wrapper more tightly around herself. “No, he can’t be dead! He got up from the foyer, and—”
“He’s dead, Carrie. I was there when he passed.” Peyton’s voice sounded strangled. “Worse, his death was senseless.”
Her breath caught at the implication. It’s my fault.
Peyton walked to the door.
“Peyton, please wait.”
He paused, his back to her.
“I’m so sorry …” A sudden knot in her throat threatened to choke her. Tears clouded her vision.
Without another word, Peyton yanked open the door and left, slamming it behind him.
CHAPTER 27
How long Carrie paced the empty bedroom, she couldn’t say. It seemed like days though it had only been hours since Peyton stormed out. And he hadn’t returned, which left Carrie’s imagination to run unchecked. Had Peyton gone after Joshua? He’d likely kill him if he caught him—unless Joshua killed him first.
Please, God, protect him. She paused, then added, both of them. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to condemn Joshua.
Shouts outside drew Carrie’s attention. Crossing the room, she pushed back the draperies and flung open the long window. The night was dark, but the air sailing into the room felt cool—cool and smoky.
Smoky?
“What’s going on, soldier?” she called to a Union guard below.
“Sorry to alarm you, ma’am. The house next door is on fire, but you’re in no danger.”
Carrie wasn’t worried about herself. “Are the Monteague ladies all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. No one’s been injured.”
Carrie wondered if that explained Peyton’s absence. Of course he would help extinguish the blaze.
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