Summer Rose

by Caroline Hartman

  From a distance, Daniel picked out the vague shape of his new lieutenant. With a trained eye he watched Lieutenant Ross take down a line of rebels. A wide line of Yankee horsemen continued to push stragglers forward, while the infantry rolled behind Sheridan, recapturing all the ground lost that morning. They freed at least a thousand Union troops who had been taken earlier, regained all their captured guns, and took twenty-five Confederate guns. Early’s forces were routed, and the cavalry picked off most of their wagons, capturing at least 1300 more rebel prisoners.

  Summer Rose mounted Rabbit and rode over to Captain Kincaid then glanced back through the dust to where Daniel rallied his troops. Her glasses, her hat were gone. She could imagine the mess her makeup was. She glanced down at her too thin body, knowing the corset now fitted poorly and the outline of the false bulk could be made out beneath her shirt. She wondered how much longer she could continue this masquerade.

  She stood in Rabbit’s stirrups, her hand shading her huge eyes and scanned the battlefield. A large part of her incredible accuracy was simply her eagle eye vision. She glanced at Captain Kincaid. Beneath his fringe of dark hair, now almost white with dust, he grinned and shook his head. She shrugged and held a finger to her lips.

  For a moment the dust settled, and she almost choked when she recognized what she saw. Hobbs. Carlton Hobbs and a cohort thundered directly toward Daniel, reloading their rifles as they rode. Hobb’s mutilated face, the one she herself had cut in the attack after the Christmas Ball, was so familiar, burned in her mind. She leaned forward, carbine in one hand, reins in the other, then nudged Rabbit with her knees and aimed the mare toward Daniel. She anchored the reins to the saddle and lifted the Spencer to her shoulder, balancing the barrel across her left arm as her right arm helped site through the billowing clouds of dust. She raced toward Hobbs and stood in her stirrups, firing, her strong legs guiding the horse toward Daniel. Firing again and again, she missed Hobbs, but unsaddled his comrade. Hobbs, holding the reins in his teeth, saw her as she raced toward him.

  He yanked the reins out of his mouth, then threw his head back and laughed when he recognized her, taunting her and making an obscene motion with his arm and fist. His ghoulish face sent shivers to the pit of her stomach. Daniel turned, and she suspected he, too, recognized her, but it didn’t matter, for all his attention was engaged in a fierce sword fight. She bent low, urging Rabbit forward. When they were only three feet apart, Hobbs’ rifle jammed. He leered at her, his puckered, monster face laughing as he licked his lips, then he withdrew his sawed off shotgun and aimed it at Daniel.

  Her heart froze. With her gun empty, and no time to reload or pull her knife, she swung with all her might, throwing the Spencer at Hobbs. It bounced off his shoulder, slowing him. At the same time she threw herself at Daniel, vaulting from Rabbit onto Chester’s broad rump, grabbing at the back of Daniel’s saddle.

  She took the load of buckshot Hobbs had intended for Daniel. It landed smack in her back and backside. She rolled off Chester and hit the ground hard. From a small hill, Hal saw the young officer fall and spotted the rebel with the grossly scarred face, aiming a shotgun at Daniel. With a single round from his rifle he winged the rebel, then raced toward Daniel, followed by Captains Kincaid and Hunt.

  Captains Kincaid and Hunt dismounted, positioning their horses to protect her, and Hal skidded Dulcey to a stop. Daniel jumped off Chester, landing beside Hal, who picked up her Spencer and stood back while Daniel knelt next to her. He looked down at the sprawled boy with the moustache, the oddly padded body and the boy haircut, and although a voice in his head told him it was Summer, he couldn’t make his mind believe it. Then suddenly he couldn’t breathe and he choked. He knew it was her. With his heart pounding, Daniel reached for the artery in her neck. The battle roared around them, but it seemed miles distant. For a heart-stopping second, he felt no pulse. He dared not breathe. Then, ever so soft, a faint thump came to life beneath his fingers.

  “She has a heartbeat,” he whispered. His hands slid down her limbs, then he turned her over and saw the bloody mess of mangled flesh made by the shotgun. “Christ!” He turned to Jake Hunt. “Commandeer a wagon, an ambulance, anything.”

  Ed Kincaid touched Daniel’s arm. “Sir, she threw herself behind you. I saw it. She blocked that load of buckshot meant for you.”

  Jake Hunt came back with Sergeant Landon. Daniel stood, helpless, as the sergeant lifted her onto the wagon bed and laid her cheek against the wooden ledge. Daniel tore off his jacket and covered her wounds. He pressed one of his sleeves under her cheek, but she didn’t so much as groan. The battle still roared; Daniel couldn’t hear anything outside the circle of their little band on the hillside.

  He watched Hal slide her rifle onto the wagon and his breath caught as Hal’s hand grabbed his shoulder. “Take care of your wife. I’ll see to your regiment.” He watched, as if in a dream, as Hal tilted his head, signaling for Captains Kincaid and Hunt to follow him as soon as they’d tied Chester’s and Rabbit’s reins to the wagon.

  He heard Hal say, “You know what to do, gentleman. Take care of his troops. We’ll rally near Sheridan’s headquarters just beyond the spring below Cedar Creek.”

  Daniel hopped onto the wagon and slid her across his lap to cushion the worst of the bumps. Some part of him could see the rebels retreating in the distance, another part concentrated only on her. He ran his finger along her hairline as Sergeant Landon pointed to the yellow flag of the medical corps flapping over the tents just coming into view.

  “How’s she holding up, Colonel? We have about another half mile.”

  He shrugged. Long ago he’d given up on God, but right now he prayed anyway. When they topped the hill and he saw the surgical tent, he let out a breath. Ambulances were already unloading the wounded.

  At Belle Grove, Sheridan himself came over. “Ask Colonel Stone to come here,” he told Sergeant Landon.

  Ray, his apron crimson to his knees, his arms covered in even more blood, did a quick survey of her wounds then motioned with his elbow for Daniel to bring her inside the long surgical tent where lanterns hung from the tent poles. Ray rinsed his hands and arms then sluiced off an empty operating table with a bucket of water and a soapy sponge.

  “Lay her face down. What happened?”

  As Daniel told him, Ray sliced off her shirt and layers of padding. A few surgeons, two orderlies, and a half- dozen soldiers waited, gawking. Daniel shifted from side to side, trying to stand in everyone’s way. He didn’t like her exposed, wearing just her camisole and torn trousers. He wanted to protect her.

  Ray held up the mangled corset. “This saved her life.” He cut back her trousers and, with care, peeled back the bloody fabric. “She’ll live, Danny boy. She’s got a bloody backside full of buckshot, which will take hours to remove.” He bent over and inspected her bottom closely. He mopped up some blood with a clean rag. “It all hit the fleshy part, none hit bone.”

  He lifted his head. “You have a couple of choices, Danny. I can’t spare a surgeon for picking out buckshot.” He glanced at Daniel, then at his orderlies, who were eyeing her backside with interest. “They could do it, or you could.. What do you think? I’ll give you everything you need. It’s not much more difficult than plucking a chicken. It just takes a lot of time. We’ll swab her with iodine when you’ve finished. You’ve seen it done. You watched me take the gravel out of your leg.” He stopped for a second and listened. “The battle, for the most part, is over.”

  Daniel appreciated the nonchalance of Ray and the other doctors, but he noted too, the eyes of the orderlies, stretcher bearers, and the other patients. Those not near death were all but drooling, ogling her body like a man eyes a girl.

  General Sheridan walked into the tent at that moment, and overheard Ray’s suggestion. He noticed the orderlies, chastised them with a finger snap and a wave of his hand. He approached the table and studied Summer’s half-exposed back and shot-up rear end.

  “Ouch!” He turned to
Daniel. “I spoke with Hal and those young captains of yours. They have your regiment under control.”

  As General Sheridan shook out a sheet and covered her, he motioned to Sergeant Landon. “Find a decent sized tent, a table, and some lanterns. The girl needs privacy. Private Jennings, you are to protect this girl. You don’t need to look at her to do so. Help Sergeant Landon set her up with a cot and some of those linens my aunt sent. You’d better get a telegram off to her brother, Sergeant.”

  Daniel picked up his coat, grabbed by warring emotions. Admiration for how the general was handling the details joined the churning pool of anger as his mind started to sort itself out. Why am I the only person who seems surprised that she’s in a uniform, trying to pass for a boy? That she’s even here? Fury gathered until his hands shook. He could do nothing to control either his hands or the rage.

  He lowered his voice in hopes that it would stay even. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” The volume increased on its own, though his voice cracked. “Jesus Christ, Sir. How the hell did you allow this to happen?”

  “Calm down, Colonel.” Sheridan’s voice, while not loud, held a snap to it. “I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with her.” He snorted. “You know of her father, don’t you? I admired him, and she … well, she’s one tenacious young woman. Did you know she killed a bear?”

  His gaze drifted down to the rawhide string around her neck. Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets and paced the length of the tent. “Yes. And a mountain lion. And I just watched her take down a bunch of rebels. But she’s a goddamn girl, General Sheridan. You should never—”

  Sheridan lowered his voice, the words clipped through his teeth. “I should … I should … Protocol, Colonel. Carry on. I … I trust you’ll do a good job.”

  Daniel turned away. Very gently, Sheridan lifted her head and slipped the cord off her neck. For a long moment his black eyes hardened as if to bore through Daniel’s back. At the same time, his hand snapped the ring into his fist. He’d give a lot to have a woman like this love him as much as she loved her colonel. His eyes softened. His voice didn’t.

  “By the way, Colonel, she’s a marvelous goddamn girl.”

  Daniel turned, and the general held out the rawhide with the ring weighting the cord between them. Not a grunt, not a cough came from inside the surgery. The general’s black eyes drilled into Daniel. “Put this back on her finger when you decide you deserve her. You certainly don’t right now.”

  CHAPTER 46

  BUCKSHOT AND BOTTOMS

  Daniel spent two hours picking buckshot out of her bottom. After about the fortieth pellet, he regained control of his temper. After the sixtieth pellet he became adept at removing them. Around the seventy-fifth Ray came over with a big bottle of iodine and some cotton. “Swab this on her skin, thick, when you finish. It’ll sting like hell and probably wake her up. You’ve done great. Go get yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll check her out. Help me turn her over.” As she turned, her breasts pushed at the thin material of her camisole and she groaned.

  Ray said, “That’s a good sign.”

  Daniel pulled the sheet to her chin.

  “Get some food. Be back in ten minutes.”

  Daniel did as he’d suggested and brought back a plate for Ray. Summer was back on her stomach with her bottom, at least, covered by a sheet.

  “How long will she be out?”

  Ray took the plate and stood beside Daniel, eating. “Thanks. I forgot how hungry I was. This bread is great. And roast pork … I’m starved. Where did you get this?”

  Daniel growled. “Sheridan’s mess. I just took it. I’m so angry at that … I … Did you know she was here?”

  Ray nodded. “She came to me a few days ago with questions. I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I’ve just been …”

  Daniel studied Ray for a moment. His apron, shirt, and pants reeked of blood and worse, his silver beard and hair held tiny flakes of dried blood. He looked exhausted.

  “I’m literally buried in work, Daniel.” He chuckled. “From what I know now, I think the entire army knew.” He took a big spoonful of beans. “When you yelled at Sheridan, I thought for sure you’d end up in irons or be shot on the spot. Be careful, Danny. He’s the best commander I’ve ever worked under, but he’s quick to strike.”

  He turned toward Summer Rose. “Don’t be too harsh, Danny. She’s boosted the morale. All the burning, the killing horses, it’s hard on some. The men love it: a girl officer, the wife of a colonel. Word spread about what a good shot she is. I just heard the boys in your regiment took bets on when you’d figure it out. Sheridan made his own legend today. If he hadn’t, she probably would have. Did you see him rally the troops? I’ve never seen anything like it. He ensured Lincoln’s reelection and gained himself a spot in the history books.”

  Ray glanced at the table. “She’ll come around soon. She’s grumbling and moving a little. You know she’s pregnant, don’t you?”

  Daniel choked.

  Ray chuckled. “Well, you know now. I wish you could see your face.” He gazed down at her. “It’ll be easier to remove that buckshot while she’s still out of it. Remember the iodine.” He stopped at the tent flap and stuck his head back in. “It’s going to burn like hell, but we’re finding it stops infection.” He laughed again. “Hang in there, Daniel. You’re as white as a truce flag.”

  A child.

  Daniel stood for a moment studying her back. His heart hammered against the bones of his chest as if it might crack it open. Amidst all this death … a child. He bent and kissed the back of her neck and ran his hand down her spine. Even with all the bruises she was still a goddess, and even with all the questions spilling into his mind, he was surprised how much better he felt after he’d kissed her. Will she ever forgive me? His breath caught in his throat and he ran his hand through the short pelt of her hair. He shook his head and murmured, “Who the hell cut her hair?”

  He felt an arm on his shoulder and turned to see Jack standing beside him. “She talked me into it. The President had a packet of material for Sheridan and I brought it on one of the locomotives. I’m going right back. I just saw Ray. He told me what happened and about the baby. Congratulations.” He handed Daniel a bottle of Micah’s salve.

  Daniel nodded and pulled out the last few pellets, then pulled the sheet up to her waist. “Thanks. Do you have the formula for this stuff?”

  Jack shrugged and held up one of the lanterns. “See how chafed she is under her arms? She bound herself up to hide her shape. Use that salve on the chafing, too. She may know where the recipe is. Eye of newt, toe of frog stuff. I don’t know.” He shrugged again. You have a small audience of waiting wounded outside, watching every shadow that flashes on the sides of the tent. They heard there’s a girl in here.” He shook his head. “There’s something about soldiers. They can always tell when a pretty girl is around. What in hell prevented you from figuring it out? Half your regiment knew.”

  Daniel shrugged. He understood how stupid he’d been. He didn’t need Jack reminding him.

  Jack turned toward the cot, the one Private Jennings had made up, then bent and pulled down the top sheet and blanket. “Her hair, her uniform, everything you see she did for you.” He stood and stretched. “When you douse the lanterns, stick your head out the fly and tell them she’s fine. They’ve been waiting. I’ll leave you now. She’s about to wake up. I’ll tell the President. Christ, Danny. He knew.”

  Before he applied the salve, Daniel dabbed all her spots with iodine. Thankful she didn’t awaken, he took the warm water and washed most of the gunpowder and dirt off her face, neck, and hands. He carefully peeled off the fake moustache. She needed a swim in the lake, they both did, but he managed to clean her up a bit. He washed the dirt of battle off himself and removed his boots, tunic, and any buckles or belts that might hurt her. He slung his pistol holster and a canteen over the iron rim of the cot, and stood his rifle beside it. He took his time, rubbing her bruised and ch
afed spots with Micah’s salve, then doused all the lights and stuck his head outside the tent.

  “She will be fine, gentlemen.”

  Off to the side, he noticed Hal, who thumbed the corner of his wide-brimmed hat, then turned and walked away. He suspected Hal wasn’t just there for Summer Rose.

  Daniel carried her to the cot, wrapped in a sheet. He lay down with her, snuggled her half on top of him and half beside him, making sure her bottom felt no pressure. He pulled a crisp sheet that smelled of sunshine and lavender over them. The night was quiet. He could hear water running over rocks, a distant rifle retort, the low voices of guards and the wounded, and her breathing. Every muscle in his body relaxed for the first time since that horrible night, the night when he’d raped her. He pulled her closer, wondering if she wanted the baby. How could she after the way he’d treated her? He kissed the side of her face, and she made a smacking noise with her mouth.

  He squeezed her gently and kissed her cheek again. “You awake?”

  He felt her nod and helped her lean up, so as not to put pressure on her bottom. He held out the canteen.

  “You gave me a scare,” he whispered.

  The interior of the tent let in a little light thrown by the torches and campfires outside. She stared at him a long time, so many emotions swimming through those large eyes. Finally she took the canteen and drank a lot.

  “Thanks. I was so thirsty.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Daniel, I’ve missed you.”