Summer Rose

by Caroline Hartman

  Private Saxon glanced down, looking as if he might throw up.

  “I’m sorry, Private Saxon, but sometimes you just have to pretend. Tell anyone that looks cross-eyed at you that you ripped your pants and someone is mending them. Or tell them you lost them at cards.”

  CHAPTER 56

  JUST PRETEND

  She took the hat that had come with her suit, ripped off the veil and slammed it on her head. Sergeant Landon shook his head and removed it, replacing it with Private Evers’ cap. He removed her pearl earrings and stuck them in his trouser pocket. “I’ll keep these safe for you.”

  Private Evers paled and for a moment Summer Rose feared he might really throw up. “Mrs. Charteris, don’t go,” he pleaded. “I’ll go.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Thanks, Henry. But nobody on this train is better with a knife than I am.” She reached to the back of her pants and brought the Smith and Wesson around so she could check it again. “And not many can outshoot me, either. Right, Sergeant?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s good. Damn good.”

  Following her directions, they walked through the remaining cars of soldiers. No one paid them any attention, and not one person seemed to notice that Private Saxon didn’t have on any pants. George Custer stood on a seat, the top of his blond curls brushing the ceiling as he led the singing of John Brown’s Body. They made their way through another car, then two containing horses, and stopped when they came to the last car.

  She and Private Saxon stood at attention while Sergeant Landon and Evers moved into the last horse car. She’d already guessed where Hobbs had probably stowed Daniel and Gus. At the ends of each horse car stood a closet-sized room for pitchforks, feed, shovels and tools. Some had a small window. Often she’d seen the grooms sitting there on buckets or crates, even sleeping on a mound of straw. Now she stole glances through the set of windows in the connecting doors as the soldiers moved up the aisle. Sergeant Landon limped along the outside wall and opened windows while Evers went in each stall. She heard the men’s voices, but couldn’t make out what was said. They seemed to take forever.

  When Sergeant Landon returned, he whispered, “The door to that little room on the left is closed, but I heard thumps.” His big arms came around and hugged her, fitting her face against his rough cheek. “I wish I could go for you.” He checked her over. “Tuck your cap in your belt. The wind will take it otherwise.”

  She climbed the brakeman’s ladder and hoisted herself to the roof. From there she could see the blur of gravel, wooden ties, and rails. She crouched for a moment, getting her balance, acclimating to the wind. The vast Potomac River Basin spread before her, an enormous boa of brown water, frothing and curling through the brilliant green of forests. A silent thank you came to her lips as she thought of her brothers. They’d been the ones who had taught her to climb and swing from tree to tree, to inch along a branch like a tight rope walker. Pewter-colored sky stretched for miles, and the wind, smelling of spring and soft against her skin, plastered her clothing against her body. The endless bowl of the sky, the earth, the river surrounded her, became part of her.

  Iron rungs, maybe a foot wide, marched down the center of the roof, leading to the end of the train. She supposed they’d been placed there to hold onto, and she did just that as she half-crawled, half-walked toward the end of the car. The train clacked over a trestle, bridging a small stream, and she saw the Potomac now narrowed, boiling with spring rains, rolling muddy and powerful beside her. A red-tailed hawk startled her as it shot like an arrow toward the river, intent on its prey.

  She pressed her ear against the roof, listening hard. She could hear the horses and her heart leapt at the sound of her baby’s hungry whimpers. Her breasts ached in response. The great train blew its mournful whistle, wailing through the countryside like some prehistoric beast.

  At the end of the car, a ladder was bolted into the side. She lowered herself a quarter of the way down, squashing her body tight to the ladder just to the left of the small window, which was closed and almost opaque with filth. She dared a quick glimpse down and inside, fighting the constant tug as the wind whipped against her. Her clothing flapped like battle flags and her hair flew wild. Thank God, it’s short.

  A man in a tan felt hat, who she assumed must be a cohort of Hobbs, pressed his back to the window. He couldn’t see her from her perch on the ladder. However, from her odd angle and even through the filth on the window, she could see the glint of the dagger he held to Daniel’s throat. She made out Daniel’s face and she knew he saw her, because he quickly diverted his eyes. He held Gus tightly against his shoulder, and his big hand gently tapped the baby’s back. She noticed he was only using two fingers. Is he telling me there are two of them? She thought so. He lowered his eyelids and peeked at her through his lashes, so she turned and showed him the gun in her belt.

  Gus began to wail; he was hungry. Fear for his safety made her mouth dry, and she scurried up the rungs to the roof, scrambling to the end of the car. With ease, she descended the other ladder, the one at the end of the train, and gained access to the rear platform. For a long moment she rested, taking a respite from the wind and catching her breath. Her heart slowed, readying for the fight.

  Right away she noticed Sergeant Landon had wedged open the rear door with a flat stone. As a secondary precaution, he’d jammed a wad of paper into the lock’s catch. She stood with her body plastered against the back wall of the car, plotting her course and orchestrating every move she planned to make. In her head, she ran through exactly when she’d withdraw the stiletto, where she’d place her foot, her hand, how she’d swing her body, her other foot, her other hand. In her mind, she tested what could go wrong with each move then adjusted and refined her plan. She knew Hobbs was watching the front of the train, and he’d expect her to have a knife.

  Well, I’ll give the bastard a knife. The stiletto will be first. She hefted it in her right hand, liking its weight then she checked the Bowie, her old friend, making sure it was still in her boot. The gun, in those close quarters, would either be backup or it would be for Daniel. She ran through the scenario two more times, imprinting it in her mind. She peeked through the outside door and caught sight of the back of Hobbs’ head as he checked up the aisle toward the front of the train. He’s expecting me to come like a lamb. She smiled.

  “This lamb,” she said under her breath, “has knives, teeth, and a Smith and Wesson.”

  The door to the room swung out and blocked the view of her approach. Hobbs’ head disappeared as he stepped into the car. She slipped inside and pressed her back against the door to the room.

  Daniel was so right. Anyone going into battle who says he’s not afraid is an idiot. She wiped her palms on the sides of her trousers. She knew Daniel. He’d die for his son. Well, so will I, dammit.

  Before anyone knew she was there, she’d caught Tan Hat with her stiletto, thrusting up and under his ribs, into his heart with all her strength. She twisted and plunged with her whole weight behind the knife, rocking it back and forth. Blood gushed, shot up like a flooding spring and blinded her. Kicking off from the wall, she pulled out the stiletto, letting the man slide as if boneless to the floor.

  She felt a quick pressure against her back as Daniel slipped the gun from her waistband. She turned swiftly, letting momentum throw her out the door into Hobbs who just now stepped back into the room. She roared into him, spinning him with her into the boxcar, wanting him as far from her baby as possible. They spun in an awkward, lethal dance, and when Hobbs’ back was to Daniel, a shot fired. The smoke choked her and Gus screamed, sounding terrified. Hobbs’ hold loosened and he shoved her toward the front of the car, where she slammed into the wooden wall of one of the stalls. She grabbed at the wall, stunned from the impact. The horses along the length of the car screamed and pulled at their tethers, threatening to break loose. The entire boxcar tilted with their movements.

  Hobbs staggered away from her, laughing. “I’ll hack off
your nose, bitch.” He lurched toward the rear door, but Daniel had shot him in his hip and he stood unsteadily, clutching the door frame.

  Still dazed, Summer Rose let the stiletto slide to the floor then rose to one knee. “You won’t have that chance, you bastard!”

  In one smooth move, she gripped the Bowie with her right hand and sent the knife home. The Bowie spun fast, hard, and true, catching his throat. The razor edge sliced the cartilage at his windpipe, giving a telltale crunch. Blood bubbled in a slow, small leak from his wound and he fell forward, lunging and spinning onto her. His face was frozen, his claws stretched like those of a beast. A spurt of blood blossomed into a geyser, spraying in front of him. With her left sleeve she cleared some of the blood from her eyes and the baby screeched louder.

  Hobbs’s eyes popped wide, and he twisted to claw at her throat. Her knife still stuck from his windpipe. She dropped to her back, arched her spine, and levered her legs against him, reeling him away from her. Another shot fired, then another. She thought at first the bullets missed then Hobbs fell like a great bloody side of beef on top of her. Daniel stood on the other side, the baby tight against his shoulder, the Smith and Wesson smoking in his hand.

  Henry Evers pulled Hobbs off her while Wally Saxon set about calming the horses. Sergeant Landon stepped over her, helped her sit up, then bent and checked Hobbs. “This one’s dead. How about the other, General?

  Daniel pushed toward her through white smoke which filled the end of the car. “They’re both dead.”

  He knelt on one knee beside her, Gus cradled against his waist. He stuck the gun in his belt, and from somewhere he produced a handkerchief. With his free hand he wiped the blood off her face, then pulled her under his leg and kissed the top of her head.

  “I was afraid to fire,” he whispered into her hair, choking on the words. “Afraid I’d hit you.”

  “I’m a bloody mess.”

  Daniel smiled and sobbed at the same time. He crumbled, cross-legged onto the straw beside her and laughed, tears rolling down his soot-darkened cheeks. “You’re the best looking bloody mess I’ve ever seen.” He rubbed a finger across Gus’ cheek, his voice soft and low, rich with love. “My brave son wants his mama. Don’t you?” He kissed the baby’s forehead and held him out to Summer Rose. “He was so good. I think he has your courage.”

  He glanced up at Saxon. “Where are your pants?” His gaze slid to his wife. “You took his pants?”

  She nodded and smiled. Wally Saxon took off his shirt and tossed it across her bloody chest, grinning from ear to ear. “Lousy cards, Mrs. Charteris.”

  Summer took Gus and breathed in his sweet, sweet baby smell. “Thank you.” She kissed the top of her howling son’s head. “Gentlemen, I’m going to crawl over into that corner and nurse my baby. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

  CHAPTER 57

  NO MORE LIES

  Cleaning up took more time and more effort than the entire harrowing event. The amazing thing was that through it all, the party went on around them. The band got louder, the singing more boisterous. Even through three cars of horses they could still hear them singing Garry Owen. Summer Rose curled up facing a corner, and gave Gus access to his lunch.

  Sergeant Landon directed Privates Evers and Saxon to throw the bodies off the side of the moving train. “Send the scum back to Maryland.”

  Midway across a trestle Hobbs and his cohort dropped into a tributary of the Potomac. The soldiers then scooped the bloody straw out the back door and off the platform, and one of her guards laid her cleaned Bowie knife beside her. Daniel and Sergeant Landon calmed and treated the horses to oats as Gus contentedly nursed, and the train chugged to Washington.

  With his back against one of the stalls, Daniel slid to the floor. “Thank you,” he whispered to no one in particular, maybe to God. “I’m truly amazed any of us are alive. Thank you.”

  He turned to Summer Rose and mouthed, “I love you.”

  Gus drooped, asleep, and she buttoned up her bloody blouse. She slipped her arms into Private Saxon’s shirt, which covered most of the blood. “I love you ten times more,” she whispered.

  He smiled, feeling restored. “Not in a million years.”

  Sergeant Landon approached and offered his hand to Summer. “You’ve got to quit scaring me half to death. Thank heavens you’re all right.” He pulled her to her feet then turned to Evers and Saxon. “Do either of you have another uniform?”

  Daniel pulled himself again to his feet as Evers nodded. “I know where to get one.”

  “Find it, give it to Saxon, then find Mrs. Charteris’ luggage. It’s probably in the first car. Then the two of you find two big buckets of hot water—George is in the kitchen car—some soap and towels. Bring them to the compartment where she changed earlier. If anyone gives you an inch of trouble, tell them Sergeant Major Landon ordered you. Also, everyone, listen up. None of this happened. We weren’t attacked. We didn’t kill anyone or throw any bodies off the train. Everyone understand?”

  They nodded. Sergeant Landon glanced at Daniel and Summer Rose and tilted his head toward the front of the train. “Follow me,” he said, lifting his cane as if it were a sword. “I know how to clear these aisles.”

  Within half an hour, Summer had her valise and hot water. Sergeant Landon returned her earrings and reported Mac was still asleep. She bathed and changed Gus, then handed him to Daniel.

  “Hold him for a minute,” she said as she ran a washcloth over her hair. “This short hair has its advantages. Can you imagine the mess the blood would have made if I still had long hair?”

  The train rocked and lurched; Gus wiggled free of the blanket. The wild goose and the memory of his lie jolted Daniel. He swallowed hard. “I hope we never need to know.”

  He rewrapped the baby and gently wedged him on the seat with a pillow. Without being asked, he took the stays from her hand and laced them up. She smiled as he helped her into her clean blouse, the one trimmed with daisies. While he stripped to the waist and washed himself, she tucked her blouse into the soft, gauzy skirt. He dried his hands and face and automatically fastened the hooks at her waist, then smoothed his hands over her hips. She leaned back against his naked chest.

  His touch, combined with the smell of the soap and his skin, made her aware of every male inch of him. Desire seared through her. She wanted him fiercely and became very aware he wanted her, too.

  Gus chose that exact moment to bunch up his tiny fists, turn a frightful purplish-red, and wail.

  With practiced expertise she swooped up the baby and nestled his flailing body between them. The blanket fell away and Daniel stared down at the conspicuous wild goose, dark against the virgin white of his son’s bottom. He wilted onto the seat, folding Summer and Gus onto his lap. Words spilled out of him, making him feel sick with guilt and relief.

  “He’s Hal’s son. The goose … Hal has the same goose on his backside. I’ve known all along. I’ve tried to keep it from you, but … it doesn’t seem to matter if he’s mine or Hal’s. I love him so much. Mac is—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush! I know. I’ve known all along. Fanny told me ages ago about the goose on Hal’s bum.” She sighed. “You know girls tell secrets to each other.” Her expression grew serious. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t love Gus like you love Mac.” She smiled and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I knew Mac was your son right away.”

  “How on earth—”

  “The goats.” She wiggled deeper into Daniel’s lap and cuddled Gus on his chest. “Those randy old billys could care less who they poke, and it shows up in their kids. Tomcats do the same thing.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I suspected you might know. You made such a fuss about hiding the goose.” She bent forward and kissed Gus’ forehead. “But Daniel, Hal must never know, nor Amelia. We’ll just have to be prudes about nakedness. I couldn’t bear for them to know.” Her voice softened. “He’s our son.”

  She paused for a second, dropping her e
yes. “So this means I must have slept with Hal. I truly don’t remember. Can you really forgive me?”

  He snorted then stood, depositing her on the opposite seat. She stared up at him, wide-eyed as he diapered and dressed Gus, then bundled him into a blanket. He nodded to Summer. “Close your eyes, put your feet up, look distraught.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it.” Shirtless, Daniel slid open the door to their compartment and called for Privates Evers and Saxon. “Do you know who Mercy, the boys’ nursemaid is?” he asked.

  Private Evers nodded.

  “Good.” He handed the baby to the soldier. “Mrs. Charteris needs to rest. I’m sure you can understand how exhausted she is. Mercy’s in the first car. Ask her to take care of Gus for a while. If she needs help, stay with her.” He glanced at Private Saxon. “Please make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

  He slid the door shut, hooked the latch, and picked up Summer. He twirled her around, holding her tightly against him then fell back onto the seat. His dexterous hands disposed of hooks and buttons and burrowed beneath clouds of crinolines. “I have a question for you, Mrs. Charteris. If Fanny told you about Hal’s goose, what exactly did you tell her about me?”

  She reached up and snapped closed the blind and rolled her eyes then giggled. “I told her you didn’t need a goose.”

  CHAPTER 58

  GRAND REVIEW

  On the evening prior to the Grand Review, Daniel’s father came round to the back door of the 18th Street house. There Louie found Summer Rose and Daniel sitting on the back porch steps, watching the songbirds at the feeder. Daniel stood and shook his hand.

  “Your mother has a bad cold, Danny. She didn’t feel up to the trip. Abbey stayed in Philadelphia, too. I took a room at Willard’s. Too much hubbub around here.”

  Mercy and Becca came around to the porch with the babies in the buggy. Daniel introduced Mercy to his father, and Louie peered into the carriage. “What handsome boys, Summer dear. I’m pleased to see the Charteris name carried on. Thank you.” His voice cracked as he kissed her cheek.