“You about scared the bejeezes out of him,” Boonie said, shuffling a deck of cards. “You can’t hardly blame him, plumb crazy as it was.”
Andrea frowned at her friend for taking the colonel’s side, but did not bother to defend herself. She was still tired from her ride and exhausted from the excitement of the previous day’s events.
“Bejeezes?” Leroy laughed. “You could’ve knocked the colonel over with a lick of spit. He thought you was heading to the boneyard for sure.”
“He ain’t the only one. I thought for sure Sinclair was getting his passport to paradise today,” one of the others said.
“Passport to paradise or permit to purgatory, not sure which.” Boonie’s’ voice was full of sarcasm as he began to deal.
Andrea shifted her gaze from the soldier who had spoken and placed it on Boonie. “I look forward to the former and I’m already in the latter.”
“All right, break it up you two. By George, you look like you got a bad case of locked bowels, Sinclair.” Leroy pulled a canteen out from under a rock. “Have a drink.”
Andrea looked around at the circle of flushed faces. All, with the exception of Boonie, appeared to be in sparkling good spirits. “You boys intoxicated on patriotism or bad whiskey?”
“Bad whishkey!” Jasper Clemons, the youngest of the group, yelled, confirming that they were well on their way to being disgracefully inebriated.
“Blazes, keep your voices down.” Andrea hit him in the knee and reached for the canteen.
“Don’t worry, the colonel’s got other things on his mind today,” Jasper said. “Heard tell there’s to be a full-blown inquir-ee into that crazy ride this morning. Look at all them officers up there. They’re thick as flies on a warm carcass!”
The group turned their heads toward the mill and, seeing the horses thus tied, erupted once again into waves of laughter. Andrea had no intention of getting drunk, but decided a couple good belts would give her the solid sleep she desperately needed. “Hand me that.”
She took a long draw on the canteen, closing her eyes as the fluid hit her throat, causing her eyes to water.
“Easy with that! You don’t want to get stumblin’ drunk.” Leroy grabbed the canteen. “I’ll be bound, I don’t even think you’re old enough to drink. How old are you anyways?”
“Old enough to get shot at, Leroy,” was her blunt reply, which sent the rest of the men into fits of laughter once again.
“They was surely pouring some canister into you, I’d say,” Jasper agreed.
“Doggone right. And don’t you go worrying about how old he is,” Boonie said, apparently trying to make amends for his earlier comment. But then he paused and stared at Andrea, a quizzical look on his face. “But how old are you anyways?”
Andrea bit her cheek. “Seventeen.” Again the group erupted into laughter.
“Now that’s some moonshine! You’re seventeen! Next thing you’ll be telling us you’re a girl.”
“With hair like that I’ve been wondering myself,” another said, pointing to Andrea’s unruly mane of thick, wavy locks that hung below her hat.
Andrea stood up as if challenge them both to a fight over the comments, but Boonie pulled her back down. It wasn’t the first time one of the men had commented on her hair. She’d clipped it short when she’d first started riding for J.J., but it had since grown almost to her shoulders. With the chance of going to Richmond in her sights, there was no way she was going to cut it no matter how much ribbing she had to endure. “You’re just jealous is all,” she said to the older man who had made the comment. “Cause you barely have any.”
The men started laughing and didn’t linger on the topic. “I declare, Sinclair, had you been pursuing Satan this morning you’d of caught him sure,” Jasper said.
“That’s funny,” Andrea answered soberly, “cause the only thing I caught so far is hell.”
Two of the younger men slapped each other on the back and rolled around on the ground in fits of laughter, scattering cards everywhere.
“Hey Sinclair, you hear ol’ Carlton got a furlough?” one of the men asked.
“No.” She looked around with a confused look on her face. “What’s it to me?”
“Carlton, tell Sinclair what the first thing is you’re gonna do when you get home.”
“That thar’s between me and my wife,” the middle-aged man answered wryly, staring at his cards. “But the second thing I’m gonna do is take off my boots.”
This pronouncement sent the soldiers into more hoots of thigh-slapping laughter, though it caused a burning sensation in Andrea’s cheeks.
“Don’t look like Sinclair thought that one was too funny. Guess we’d best not tell him what kinder trouble Leroy got into the other day.”
Andrea rolled her eyes, knowing she was going to get told whether she wanted to hear it or not. She had discovered a soldier’s favorite pastime was trading stories of past exploits, and those exploits were generally more amorous than military. In fact it seemed the chief topic of all of the young soldiers, and more than half the old, concerned members of the opposite sex. Whether the stories she heard were reality or fantasy she couldn’t say, but it was one facet of a soldier’s life she could well do without.
“Don’t be spreadin no gossip,” Leroy said, trying to change the subject.
“Ain’t no gossip. You’re the one went volunteering for hazardous duty up at Widow May’s place,” Jasper said with a mocking grin. “Mighty nice of you to go foraging and make that sacrifice on our behalf though.”
Andrea knew who the widow was—and was well aware that many soldiers of both armies did too. She started to get a little uncomfortable, knowing what Leroy was foraging for was probably of little use for anything other than stirring the flames of campfire gossip.
“Shut up Jasper,” Leroy mumbled. “Least she gave me this bottle of applejack.”
“Yeah, and a nice big handprint on your face.”
The group started laughing.
“Problem was,” Boonie said in his usual calm, slow-talking manner, “you expected an unconditional surrender.”
“Go ahead, have your fun.”
“Appears to me like the invasion was probably over before the occupation even began,” Carlton commented with a rarely seen smile lurking on his lips.”
“Had it been me, I would have ordered an immediate withdrawal,” Boonie volunteered, “but knowing Leroy, there was an attempted effort to engage with the main body….”
“Oh no, not the main body,” Jasper joined in, “he tried to charge the breastworks!”
Andrea lowered her head and began to bang her boot on the rock with more force, while Leroy took off his hat and whacked Jasper with it, sending the group into more fits of laughter.
“That’s the last time I make a wager with the likes of you guys!” Leroy said grumpily.
Andrea stopped what she was doing as if smitten by a lightning bolt. “It was a bet?”
Every set of eyes in the group turned to her.
“Yeah, it was a bet,” Jasper said. “Sent him up there to see what he could git from the widow, while we were anxiously being held in reserve.”
The group roared again.
“Don’t go getting sentimental on us, Sinclair. Had you been here you could have joined in.”
Andrea’s face turned red again and she felt almost sick, though she tried to act indifferent.
“Who’s supposed to be dealing the cards anyhow?” she said, trying to change the subject, though the two singers had already gone back to their howling.
“Maybe you guys should keep it down. No wonder the Colonel’s in a foul mood.”
“Sinclair!” All eyes turned to Colonel Jordan, who stood motioning impatiently for Andrea.
“Guess he did tell me to come back when I woke up,” Andrea said under her breath after looking at all the anxious faces staring at the mill. “But I didn’t want to interrupt since he’s got company.”
“Blazes
, Sinclair,” Boonie said, shaking his head. “Yes, he’s got company. And they’re all waiting to see you!”
“Then I guess I’ll march right up there and pay my respects.”
Andrea hurriedly pulled on her boot, wincing as it squeezed around her ankle. Seeing that J.J. had disappeared from the porch, she pointed to the canteen. “Give me another slug of that. Need to clear the cobwebs from my throat so’s I can talk loud and clear in front of all those high-ranking fuss and feathers.”
“Don’t give him that,” Boonie warned. “It puts the devil in him.”
“Don’t need no whiskey to put the devil in Sinclair.” Leroy laughed.
The liquor made its circuit and stopped in front of Andrea again. Putting her head back, she closed her eyes and gulped.
“Easy with that!” Boonie grabbed the canteen from her grasp.
Andrea stood and brushed off her coat before emitting a long, low belch. “How do I look, gentlemen?”
“Like you rode through the gates of hell and didn’t get enough sleep afterwards,” Boonie said.
Andrea ignored him and saluted mockingly. “Farewell, comrades. Du-tee calls.” Bowing grandly as if responding to a summons to be honored by the king, she turned and limped toward the mill.
Chapter 24
Ah brandy, brandy! Bane of life,
Spring of tumult – source of strife’
Could I but half thy curses tell,
The wise would wish thee safe in hell.
– Revolutionary War Song
Andrea tried to cover her limp as best she could, but by the time she made it to the door of the mill, her ankle pulsed rhythmically—and torturously—against her boot.
Despite the pain, she gave Colonel Jordan’s glum orderly an exaggerated salute as he opened the door, hoping she could get him to smile. She was pretty sure she’d failed, because the door closed behind her a little more forcefully than she thought necessary.
Blinking in the dim light, her gaze fell on J.J. sitting stiffly behind a table, looking shadowy and a bit sinister behind stratified layers of smoke. Out of the corner of her eye she saw at least three other officers in the room.
That’s when the effects of the alcohol began to kick in.
“At ease,” J.J. said without looking up. “Sinclair. I believe you’ve met Colonel Dayton. And this is Colonel Blake. And you know Colonel Delaney.”
Andrea had not noticed Daniel standing by the window with his back to her, but at the sound of his name he turned around and nodded politely. Andrea did not think the greeting very courteous and began to have a distinct sense of trouble. She attempted to stand with soldierly erectness, but her ankle throbbed and her body ached, and her mind was becoming too soothed by the alcohol to really care about decorum.
J.J. cleared his throat. “You are here so that we can learn the facts about what occurred during your recent…excursion. I understand now there were some extenuating circumstances that led you to come through this pass.”
Daniel stepped forward. “I explained to the Colonel that you were diverted to Gainesville.”
“And Colonel Delaney explained to me that you came across his regiment in the Gap and devised this scheme to act as a decoy,” J.J. continued. “Do I understand the scenario correctly so far?”
“Well, I’m not sure I would characterize it exactly—”
“From what I can gather,” he interrupted, apparently not interested in her opinion, “you told Colonel Delaney it would be unwise and dangerous for his men to proceed through the Gap, but that if you went through first, you would be able to draw the rebels out.”
Daniel stepped forward and looked directly into Andrea’s eyes as if warning her not to speak. “I explained it was entirely my fault. I accept full responsibility.”
J.J. ignored him as well and continued. “I’m still a little confused about why you would attempt such a reckless scheme.” He paused and glanced at Daniel. “And frankly, what would possess Colonel Delaney to go along with it, likewise, cannot be well accounted for.” He leaned over the table, his eyes penetrating through the haze. “Perhaps you can enlighten us.”
Andrea bit the inside of her cheek, and then cleared her throat. “Colonel Delaney has no fault in the matter, sir.”
“How so?”
“I told him I was going through with or without him. That I could serve as a diversion—”
“And he did not try to stop you?”
“Um-m, yes, sir, he did.”
“And you did not listen to him?”
“I thought it a good opportunity to use the enemy’s tactics and surprise them from the rear,” Andrea said, looking at the floor.
“And you did not listen to him?” J.J. repeated, louder this time, in case she had not heard.
“I listened,” she replied, her voice rising a little too. “I did not obey if that is what you are asking.”
Andrea came to the conclusion that she should not have taken that final slug of whiskey, because it no longer felt warm and welcoming in her veins. In fact, it felt like it was no longer welcome in her body at all.
She imagined herself throwing up in front of these men of great prominence and rank, and the thought made her stomach lurch. She could almost hear Boonie telling his buddies in his calm, deliberate Northern tone what he thought of Sinclair getting physically ill during an interrogation. “Now there’s a spectacle won’t be equaled in quite some time, boys.”
Andrea’s mind began to race and a new surge of queasiness began to overtake her. It can’t be the applejack making me sick, she thought. Perhaps it’s the cigar smoke. Yes, that’s it, those vile cigars. Or the after effects of the sulfur smoke hanging in the air from the sharpshooters. Or maybe it’s the fact I’ve not eaten since . . .
Andrea shifted her weight again. She could not remember the last time she’d eaten. Swallowing hard to make sure she could still move things in that direction, she looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her, so she guessed it was her turn to speak. Problem was, she had not been paying attention to the question. She looked blankly at J.J., but he did not offer any help.
How dare he act like he’s a–a darn commanding officer or something! He’s just J.J.
But “just J.J.” just sat there drumming his fingers on the desk, glaring with his head cocked to one side, waiting for her to respond. Andrea cleared her throat and elaborated on the last question she remembered being asked, hoping they had not proceeded too far in her mental absence.
“I knew I was late getting back to Hopewell Gap where I was supposed to meet up with you. I’d made up my mind I was going through, with or without Colonel Delaney.”
Colonel Jordan leafed through some papers on the table. “There were reinforcements being brought up. You were aware of that?”
“Yes, Colonel Delaney told me that. B-but I feared our chance would be lost by then.”
“And let me see.” J.J. looked up and leaned forward again. “What authority do you have to make such decisions?”
Andrea grimaced and stared at the floor, wondering if he really expected an answer.
“Do you understand the question?” he roared.
“Yes, sir,” Andrea answered meekly. “None, sir.”
Daniel stepped forward and faced Colonel Jordan. “I believe you are being unnecessarily stern.”
Andrea couldn’t help but agree. She had never been through a grilling of this nature before and was fairly certain she would not be desirous of doing it again—at least not on an empty stomach full of whiskey.
Chapter 25
We fail more often by timidity than over daring.
– David Grayson
Andrea watched J.J. let out his breath slowly as if trying to regain his composure.
“Very well,” he said, squeezing his temples. “Let’s go back to the beginning. How did you know there were Confederates in those hills in the first place?”
Andrea looked over at Daniel, who turned his back and continued his wat
ch out the window. From what she could tell the view offered nothing more than a cavern of darkening shadows, but he seemed intent on studying them nonetheless.
Andrea cleared her throat nervously. “I knew…I mean, that is to say, I had reason to believe that a Virginia regiment and Hunter’s command were there, at the very least.”
J.J. looked up sharply, apparently sensing some new information. “On what did you base your information?”
Andrea shifted her weight onto her sore ankle in the hopes the throbbing pain it produced would take her mind off the excruciating ordeal she faced. Daniel had not asked nearly so many questions.
“On what did you base your information?” he repeated louder. “Colonel Delaney tells me you were confronted in the Gap. Supposedly by one of Hunter’s command?”
“Yes.” Andrea tried to sound calm. “It was one of Hunter’s command.”
“How did you know it was someone from Hunter’s command?”
Andrea sighed. There was no way out of it now. “Because—” She paused, then tried again while staring at the floor. “Because I know—”
“Yes, you know?” J.J. leaned forward.
“Because I know what Captain Hunter looks like.” Andrea finished as quietly as she could, yet it was apparent everyone in the room heard her.
“The devil you say!” Daniel strode toward her, his cavalry boots and spurs echoing loudly in the room. “It was Hunter himself that you met in the pass? That you exchanged gunfire with?”
“I never exchanged fire,” Andrea said, trying to defend herself. She realized her mistake before she’d finished the sentence.
“A-h-h, yes… You were merely fired upon.” Daniel’s face had turned red with anger before losing all trace of color.
“Let’s make sure I have this right.” J.J. came to his feet, put his hand to his temples and squeezed, before continuing. “You knew Hunter was there ready to strike—”
“I anticipated receiving a warm reception in the Gap,” Andrea answered frankly. She heard General Blake chuckle quietly behind her before being admonished by J.J.’s stare.
Duty Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Book 1) Page 11