Ripples of laughter moved through the men. Summer didn’t flinch, but ran the ball straight to him. She understood the general’s maneuvers. He’d set Daniel up on purpose.
Daniel grinned and warmed his knuckles on his chest, oozing charm. No one, she thought, is better at charming than Daniel—when he wants to be charming. A few of the men made comments. She heard someone yell: “Put your wife’s face on it!”
Her stomach dropped as his grin faded. Someone must have heard he wasn’t on the best of terms with his wife. She kept her face hard as stone and added another notch to the list to which Hal would have to answer.
Daniel frowned down at her when he took the ball, but she didn’t look away. She was extremely grateful for the cover of the blue-tinted eyeglasses. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, lowering her voice slightly.
“You have a name, Lieutenant?”
She snapped her best salute. “Yes, Sir. Lieutenant Samuel Ross, Sir.”
“At ease, Lieutenant. Now, Sam, what’s the trick to this game?”
She leaned toward him. “It’s in the wrist, Sir. Next time General Sheridan takes a turn, notice how he moves his wrist.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Ross. When you get to know me better, you’ll realize I’m very observant.”
She kept her face smooth. Observant, my foot! You have no idea who I am!
He threw the ball and she held her breath as it soared past the pins, sweeping them clean on the return. A few clapped, several swore, one or two laughed.
They played for at least another hour. She ran the ball to Daniel three more times, standing near enough to smell him. Once her fingers brushed his, and a knife of pain shot through her chest. She longed to fall into their easy rapport.
When dinner was served, she and Lieutenant Timmons stood at attention near the front door. The aromas of beef steak, good hearth bread, and onions drifting from the dining room made her mouth water and temporarily took her mind off Daniel.
After cigars and cognac, Sergeant Landon approached them. “Lieutenant Ross, follow me.”
He walked her toward the elms. “Colonel Charteris’ fellow officers have set up a joke for him, a trick of which General Sheridan doesn’t entirely approve.
“Somehow, your boy’s fellow officers got wind that he’s on the outs with his wife.” His brown eyes twinkled. “How he could ever do that, I do not know. I heard she’s a sweetheart. He must be either stupid or crazy. Or both.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, General Sheridan wants to dampen their powder, take the fun out of their joke, so he’s playing a trick on the tricksters. Are you aware that your husband hates snakes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t like them, but growing up with three mean, older brothers cured any fear of reptiles, bugs, or such.”
“Your brother said the same thing. I have a burlap bag with a six foot Black Snake in it. I double bagged him. I’d advise you to walk the creature over to your colonel’s command tent, untie the bag, and leave it under his cot.”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt him, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Landon cleared his throat. “It seems his fellow officers bought your colonel a present. They all chipped in and paid for a whore.”
Her eyes popped wide.
“She’s going to be escorted to his tent,” he pulled out his pocket watch and frowned at it. “In about an hour.”
“Thank you, Sir. Where’s this bag you spoke of?”
She caught a whiff of pungent smoke, and General Sheridan’s impish face materialized, glowing gold as he inhaled on his cigar.
“I’ll show you where it is, Sam. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I’m glad you’re a decent sport.” He walked beside her. “Now tell me. How are you getting along?”
“Better than expected, Sir.”
With the roar of the river beside them and the rough road lit by torchlight, the three maneuvered the steep streets of the army post, heading downhill toward Daniel’s command tent. “Did our George fix your hair?”
She bowed and swept off her hat. “I must say, it’s easy to care for. I believe my hair is shorter than either of yours.”
They walked down the rutted gravel road to a small tent which possessed a good view of Daniel’s headquarters. Several chairs were set up under the open fly. Sergeant Landon ducked inside and came back with a burlap bag, which he handed to her. He walked ahead of her and called Daniel’s sergeant to the side of his tent. Summer slipped inside, knowing this was the blind obedience General Sheridan had demanded. If it stopped the ridiculous prank the others had planned, then that was just fine. Besides, the snake wasn’t poisonous. In the dim light from the torches outside, she cut the tie on the bag, and shoved it under Daniel’s cot. She touched the blanket on his bed, wanting to curl up on it, snake or no snake.
She crossed the street and the general indicated she should sit in the camp chair beside him. The smell of his cigar brought comfort and she smiled when Jack joined them. He squeezed her shoulder as he sat in the chair behind her and beside Sergeant Landon.
Around ten o’clock, Chester clomped by, turning his big head right toward her. She heard Daniel dismount and murmur to the big horse, then speak to the groom. Watching Daniel do familiar things hurt, made her heart ache. She followed his shadow as he moved about his tent, lighting lanterns and candles, then he sat at his field desk. General Sheridan reached over and touched her hand.
“Your brother said you could handle this. Is he right?”
She nodded. “I don’t promise to like what happens.”
Just then they heard the clomp-clomp of a pony pulling a two-wheeled wicker cart. On the side of the buggy bobbed a little red lantern. Behind the white-maned pony, they could hear the rustle of officers who had come to gawk. Many had consumed too much whiskey and were about as quiet as a dance troop. To Summer Rose, the entire scene became less funny by the minute. She didn’t like seeing Daniel tricked. And she certainly didn’t like the idea of a whore.
Jack, as if reading her mind, leaned forward and gripped her shoulder as the girl stepped out of the vehicle. Summer could smell her musky perfume. Daniel stuck his head out the tent flap, and the girl ducked inside without any invitation. Summer Rose willed her heart to slow.
Almost immediately, a piercing scream came from Daniel’s tent, followed by several sharp retorts from a revolver. The crowd parted as the woman shot out of the tent and scrambled into the waiting buggy.
Daniel stepped out behind her. “Sergeant!” he yelled. “Get that goddamn snake out of my headquarters.”
His fellow officers roared with laughter. Daniel didn’t show good sportsmanship or even a sense of humor. There was certainly no charm. “The rest of you can get the hell out of here.” He fired his revolver into the air. “If I want a woman, I’m quite capable of finding one.”
Phil Sheridan slapped her on the back. The diminutive general bent over double, holding back laughter. She had a feeling he’d been watching for her reaction as much as Daniel’s.
He stood. “You’re not laughing, Lieutenant Ross.”
She knew the effect her eyes could have on men, and George hadn’t trimmed her eyelashes. She removed her glasses and allowed, even in the orange torchlight, the full blast of her blue-green eyes, with their lush lashes, to latch onto his face.
“Sir, it’s hard to laugh when your heart is in your throat.” She wanted to spit. Instead she asked, “May my brother and I stay here tonight? I’d like to be close to Daniel. I believe you understand by now that I know how to behave. I went along with your adolescent joke. I feel a need to watch out for him.” Across the dirt road, his sergeant exited the tent with the obviously dead snake.
She didn’t move, but was surprised when General Sheridan reached over and tugged the rawhide string from its hiding place around her neck. He palmed the ring and studied it for a moment, then tucked it back inside her shirt collar. His black gaze
lingered on her. She glared back at him.
He made a dismissive motion with his hand. “You take care of the details. Just make sure you’re at headquarters at seven. We ride to Charlestown and Winchester tomorrow. I have a meeting with General Grant. I’m taking your colonel with me, and I’d like you with us.” His black eyes twinkled. “Humor some old generals, my dear. Believe it or not, our lives are, for the most part, very colorless, at times downright boring.” His voice sounded gravelly. “There will be a troop of about fifty or so men. Are you up for a thirty mile ride?”
She snapped to attention and saluted. “I look forward to it, Sir.”
He nodded. “Good. Remember, we’re making history here.” He turned to her brother. “Major McAllister, I have a packet of documents for the President. Stop by my headquarters before you leave in the morning.”
The entire evening came close to a nightmare for Daniel, and his desire to strangle Hal increased tenfold. Granted, the snake and the girl had unnerved him. He shuddered at the memory. He hated snakes. It wasn’t just the snake, though. The girl, the smell of her alone, brought to mind Murder Bay and the brothels. He shook his head. Earlier, at the dinner party, he’d been out of sorts. Someone had let his comrades know of his difficulties with Summer, and that someone could only be his old friend. He was so angry he didn’t trust himself to speak with Hal. Bashing his face to a pulp here would be inappropriate. He knew some rule existed that frowned on field grade officers groveling in the dirt while attempting to kill each other.
He shook his head again, but images of Summer Rose kept floating in and out of his consciousness: her, dripping wet in the moonlight, her, stomping naked into the house. In his head, a war battled. One side of him wanted to shake her. The other side longed to hold her tight. His body ached for her; his heart told him to jump on Chester, gallop to Camelann and tell her how sorry he was. No matter what she’d done—and there must be an explanation—what he had done was despicable, unforgivable.
I should have shot Hal. He reached inside his tunic and touched the remnant of her nightgown, which he’d found in his pocket. He remembered how he’d ripped it to shreds with his rage. A weariness crept into his shoulders and he sighed. The picture of her and Hal, naked, barged into his mind. Anger, blood red, and hot as hell, reared its ugly face.
CHAPTER 42
PURPLE-TOED SOCKS
Jack took her to the stables before first light. “Your horse needs a good grooming. I wanted to teach you how to fit out a U.S. Cavalry mount, but I have to get over to headquarters and catch the train. Take care, kiddo. Check out the other mounts. You’ll figure it out.”
As Jack walked uphill toward the depot, loneliness knifed through her. Only adrenalin kept her upright. All night she’d paced, then tossed and turned. She’d sat up, hugging her knees and staring at Daniel’s shadow against the wall of the tent across the street. Her heart took up residence in her throat.
Last night Sergeant Landon had sent over her kit, and she’d cleaned herself as well as a girl could around thousands of men. She washed herself, never exposing as much as an inch of flesh below her neck. Becca had brought her a bottle of rosewater and she splashed a little on her body. She understood it wasn’t exactly the right scent for a soldier, but she certainly smelled better with it than she did without it.
Now, at the stable, she cleaned Rabbit with sudsy water, then rinsed her, buffed her dry, and brushed her. She trimmed and combed her mane and tail, then cleaned and polished her hooves. During the entire grooming, Summer whispered to the horse, making friends. She left Rabbit with an extra measure in her feed bag, ran uphill to General Sheridan’s mess, and talked gruff old George, the cook and part-time barber, out of a handful of carrots. On the way back from the mess, she checked out other cavalry mounts and fitted Rabbit out like them. When she was done, Rabbit looked pretty good, if she said so herself.
While she sat on a low wall near Rabbit, polishing her boots, she heard Daniel’s voice, then Sergeant Landon’s as they came round the corner of the barn with General Sheridan. Daniel glanced at her, then looked again at her sock, wearing a puzzled expression on his face. Damn. He’ll guess. Jamming her foot in her boot, she jumped to attention and saluted.
She knitted all their socks, and she always did the toes in a purple yarn. It was her signature. Her mother had done the same. She doubted too many soldiers wore purple-toed socks. Daniel didn’t say anything, but the question on his face remained.
Sergeant Landon must have sensed something awry for he turned to Daniel. “I want you to look at Chester’s foot. I hope it’s just a shoe.”
Just then the general’s groom brought Rienzi out of the barn. Summer Rose knew of Rienzi, knew he’d been named after Rienzi, Mississippi. She remembered Daniel telling her how the 2nd Michigan Cavalry had brought the Morgan stallion, Michigan born and bred, to Rienzi, Mississippi and presented him to General Sheridan. The papers caught the story and Rienzi became legend. Summer Rose’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the stallion: gorgeous, gleaming black, at least seventeen hands high.
Sergeant Landon approached, leading his bay gelding. He nodded, then whispered, “Rabbit shines.” He sniffed. “I smell … flowers?”
The rosewater had been a big mistake. She raised her face to the sky. The sun promised heat. She sniffed and shrugged. “I’ll smell like a trooper in twenty minutes.”
Sneezing from the dust, she thundered out of the village near the rear of a double column. Within five minutes, dust coated any exposed skin and her mouth felt gritty. She petted Rabbit’s filthy neck. Good grief, she thought. All my hard work on Rabbit is gone.
The front of the column held Generals Sheridan, Devin, and Rosecrans. They were followed by buglers and color bearers, half a dozen more brigadier generals, and twice as many colonels. Daniel rode Chester at mid-column. Hal, on Dulcey, was there as well, but they weren’t side by side. Like two magnets with their negative poles pushed together, they avoided each other.
She was surprised when she spotted the two good looking young officers, Jake Hunt and Ed Kincaid, who Daniel had brought home to lunch one day near Christmas when they lived in Washington. She remembered, too, that they’d been fresh out of West Point, lieutenants, headed out west to their first post, starved for a decent meal and female conversation. Somehow they’d ended up here and were already captains.
She almost waved and hollered. Hello, remember me? I fed you imported ham and Christmas tarts. Remember? Then she realized Christmas was a lifetime ago, she possessed no hair, and she was supposed to be a brand new second lieutenant.
Lieutenant Timmons, who rode beside her, also ate the dust of fifty-some horses. His know-it-all attitude irritated her, and she was glad the dust prevented his speaking. He only wanted to talk about the women on the camp’s fringes, selling their wares. He acted like he knew a lot about women. She bit her tongue, because his lack of knowledge was obvious.
Thank heavens the horse soldiers stuck, for the most part, to a plain, straight forward, double-column canter. A couple of times the bugler rattled out Left or Right, and they wheeled into a wide turn, then back into a double column. Rabbit seemed to know exactly what to do. Once, too, they changed, slick as a dance step, from two abreast to four abreast, then into a straight wall of horse soldiers. Rabbit’s gait was smooth. Summer Rose whispered to her constantly. In her head, she thanked Will for teaching her the bugle calls. I’d have made a damn fine soldier. As they swung back into a two-abreast column, Sergeant Landon’s head kept turning back. Once he even nodded approval, eyebrows arched. She quelled the urge to stick her tongue out. The damned inverted corset hid her curves, but chafed her skin. Her armpits felt raw.
They rode through farmland lush with fat livestock and fatter barns. Unlike the rest of Virginia, the Shenandoah groaned with plenty. Small children waved, their mothers did not. The adults knew Sheridan’s mission. He’d already started what they called “The Burning,” and they hated him for it.
&n
bsp; For a while the troops rode along the Shenandoah River, swollen with recent rains. The vistas, stretching one after another all the way into Maryland and Pennsylvania, took her breath away.
She knew the recent history. Lee had invaded the North through this valley twice, at Antietam and Gettysburg. Now Lee pushed Jubal Early north in order to draw the North’s power away from Washington, and Grant maneuvered Phil Sheridan into the Confederate path to stop any movement toward the North. She realized how, below the rank of general, much of soldiering was just plain boring. Even Daniel, as a full colonel, was merely a pawn in a giant chess game. No one talked; they rode. A soldier had a lot of time to think. Daniel’s broad back and wide shoulders made her fingers itch to reach out to him. The hair at his neck needed a trimming. She longed to care for him, to run her hands over his skin.
They stopped to water the horses at a spring near Charlestown. She knew the town had changed hands almost as often as Harper’s Ferry had, and it was near here where they’d hanged John Brown. Right now, no one waved flags or offered cookies. Charleston definitely leaned toward the southern cause. The soldiers dismounted and stretched while Daniel talked with the two captains. Lieutenant Timmons came over and tried to talk to her. He’d heard about the trick played on Daniel and relayed it all over again. He thought it hilarious; she fantasized about cutting out his tongue. The bugler sounded, the soldiers remounted and cantered through the valley.
She rode into Winchester thirsty, sore, and covered with dust. The town was frayed like an old sofa, with rickety frame houses and rusty wrought iron fences, both needing at least a coat of paint. Wash flapped on a line in a side yard. Two Negro women worked in a garden. An orange cat darted across the road. A little girl waved from an upstairs window until a woman dragged her inside and slammed down the sash.
The troops arrived in a big open field next to a sloping hillside of fruit trees. Off to the other side loomed a dark woods. From the opposite direction rode more Union troops and a big covered wagon. Harnesses creaked and rattled, horses snorted and snuffled as they all dismounted. Summer led Rabbit into the shade of some hardwood trees where a clear brook ran. The nerves along the entire length of her spine tingled. In the distance she watched General Sheridan walk up to General Grant.
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