Stowaway in Time

by Cathy Peper

  “Sorry, am I going too fast?” He turned his head and watched Jack’s horse limp up to him.

  “I think he picked up a stone or put a hoof wrong.”

  Jesse lowered himself to the ground and walked over to examine the horse. “Fetlock’s swollen. He’s lame.” He helped his brother down and they broke out the canteens. “We will have to leave him behind and double up.”

  “Too slow. They don’t take guerrillas prisoner.”

  “I know.” Jesse wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But we don’t know we’re being followed. Would they really send forces after us?”

  “If they have the resources.”

  “I don’t see that we have any other choice.”

  “I take the horse and you go to ground. We know the country better than they do. It’s easy to hide.”

  “Guess you’ve got experience.”

  “Yeah, I do, but you’re more than capable. And you owe me.”

  Jesse looked at him in disbelief. “You’re bringing that up now? I was just a kid.”

  “I saved your life. This is your chance to return the favor.”

  He’d been thinking the same thing earlier, so why did he feel betrayed? “You knew how to swim. You were never in danger.”

  “Neither are you. You’re in uniform. If they catch you—which they won’t—you get to sit the rest of the war out in prison. Or you get paroled. Either way, you’re done fighting.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. The Union soldiers would not be feeling very compassionate after what the Confederates had done to the town. “They might shoot and ask questions later.”

  “Then don’t let them find you. You got away at Island #10 against all odds.”

  “You’ll be on your own,” Jesse said, but he knew he had already made his decision.

  “Get me on my horse one last time. That’s all I need.”

  That’s all I have to offer. Jesse only hoped it would be enough for both of them.

  Twenty Seven

  Chapter 27

  It took longer than planned, but Diamond, Janet, and Sarah made it to New Madrid without further incident. They had to abandon the wagon and walk, something Janet and Sarah weren’t used to. Diamond empathized with their aching muscles, remembering how difficult it had been to trudge across Tennessee. The experience stood her in good stead, now, however, for although she had grown softer in Little Rock, she had not returned to her twenty-first-century fitness level. Janet and Sarah were better off than she had been upon first entering the nineteenth century, but not used to walking all day.

  Henry, their coachman had run away. He had been the one on watch the night the bushwhackers attacked. Instead of keeping them safe, however, he’d jumped at the opportunity to gain his freedom. Diamond couldn’t blame him for wanting his freedom but realized in retrospect they should not have trusted him to maintain watch. Janet, who’d considered him a family retainer, felt betrayed by his actions and smoldered with suppressed rage. Diamond wouldn’t want to be in Henry’s shoes if he encountered Janet again.

  She did not know if Henry had told Sarah about his plans or offered her the opportunity to come with him. Even after Henry’s disappearance, it didn’t seem to occur to Janet that Sarah might leave. Perhaps the maid didn’t want to escape. Despite their positions as mistress and slave, the two women were close.

  They’d rested on the day of the attack, dosing Janet with laudanum and arranging the remnants of their supplies into three bundles. To Diamond’s relief, the farmer and his family moved on, the man insisting he was well enough to travel, though they, too, were now on foot. She thought the wife grateful for her help in saving her husband’s life, but also resentful of Janet’s self-serving remarks. Neither group would trust the other again.

  When they finally reached the outskirts of New Madrid, Janet sent Sarah ahead to see if Union troops still occupied the house.

  “The Yankees are still there,” she reported on her return. “The main army lives in the garrison, but the officers are enjoying your fine hospitality.”

  “Damn them. They better not wreck the place.”

  “At least they haven’t burnt it down.” Diamond tried to make Janet look on the bright side.

  “But where will we stay?”

  “All the field hands run off. We can stay there,” Sarah said.

  “In the slave quarters?” Janet asked in disbelief.

  “You got a better idea, Miz Janet? They’re not so bad. I’ve seen worse.”

  They set up camp in the primitive cabins farthest from the big house. They didn’t want to alert the Union officers to their presence. The cabins weren’t what any of them, even Sarah, were used to, but after nights spent in the open under constant threat of attack, the small wooden structures with dirt floors and crudely constructed furniture felt almost cozy.

  “This is unacceptable,” Janet declared. “We won’t be here long. Finn will never let me live like this.”

  Diamond hoped she was right, but prepared to make the best of things. “We have a place to stay, but we’ll need food.”

  “Will there be anything in the garden?” Janet asked Sarah. “New Madrid fell before we got the planting done.”

  “Maybe, if the soldiers haven’t taken it all.”

  “See what you can find. We still have a few supplies and tomorrow I will go into town.”

  Sarah came back with three potatoes and a handful of apples. She baked the potatoes in the fireplace and served them alongside the apples and cups of water. Fearing the old straw-filled mattresses might harbor disease, Diamond tossed them out and the women once again slept on the ground.

  Things improved over the next several days. Janet and Diamond pooled their funds. Unsure how long the stash would have to last, they allocated most of it to food, but also bought material which they stuffed with cotton and sewed to make new mattresses. Diamond and Sarah planted seeds in the garden plot. It was late in the season, but they hoped to get a small harvest before winter. Most importantly, Janet and Diamond wrote to Finn and Jesse, bringing their men up to date on their situation.

  Janet had gone to town and Diamond was out in the garden, weeding, when a horse plodded up the path. She stood, heart racing, wishing she had Janet’s gun. She fingered the knife and pepper spray she now kept in her pocket since the night the bushwhackers came. Slumped over his horse, their visitor didn’t appear very dangerous, but since he wore a heavily embroidered shirt, like those favored by the guerrillas, Diamond wanted to be cautious.

  “So you are here,” the man said, dragging himself upright with difficulty. “Seems to be Yankees at the house.”

  Diamond relaxed at the familiar voice. “Jack. What are you doing here?”

  “Got in a bit of trouble and need some help.”

  Diamond bit her lip. “You know what your father said. Janet may not want you here.”

  “That’s why I waited until I saw her leave.” Jack swayed, nearly pitching off his horse. Diamond ran forward to steady him.

  “Let’s get you in one of the other cabins.” She led the horse to a small structure out of sight of the main house and the cabin she and Janet lived in. Jack slid off his horse, and she helped him inside. He favored his left side where his shirt was crusted with blood. “Sit here while I get your blanket.” She perched Jack on the edge of the bed and ran out to empty his saddlebags. After spreading his bedroll over the old mattress, she allowed him to lie down. With his injury, she didn’t want him on the ground, but hoped his blanket would protect him from any insects or germs lurking in the mattress.

  “Guess you want to know what happened.”

  “Seems fairly obvious. You got shot while raiding someone’s farm.”

  “Not this time. I was on a valid mission for the Confederate Army.”

  Diamond pulled up his shirt. “Think that will make a difference with Janet?” A strip of fabric held a bloody gauze in place.

  “Don’t know.” Jack gasped as she untied the bandage.

/>   “I’m not a nurse, but I don’t see any signs of infection. When did this happen?”

  “Two days ago. I need someplace to hide out and heal in case they track me this far. I’d hope to stay in the house, but I guess this will do.”

  “You can’t let the Union officers see you and you’d better not show yourself to Janet either.”

  Jack pulled a face. “She wouldn’t turn me in no matter what Father said.”

  The image of the farmer, hanging from the tree, filled Diamond’s mind. But he had been a stranger. This was Janet’s brother. “Willing to bet your life on her loyalty?”

  Jack shrugged. “Guess not.”

  Yet he trusted her, a woman he barely knew. She guessed he didn’t have much choice. “I’ll get something to re-bandage your wound and grab some food. It won’t be easy. Janet will notice if I take too much. My visits will be sporadic.”

  “Is that any way to treat your brother-in-law?”

  “It’s the best I can offer unless we let Janet in on the secret.”

  “Get Sarah to tend me.”

  “She might, but I won’t risk it. Her first concern should be for herself, but her second is probably for Janet.”

  Jack smirked up at her. “Bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  Diamond suppressed a flash of irritation. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t understand why Sarah is devoted to Janet. Goes against your abolition ideals.”

  “I never said I was an abolitionist.”

  “Didn’t have to. I can spot one a mile away.”

  Diamond set her hands on her hips. “Do you want my help or not?”

  “You can’t leave me to die. We’re family now.”

  “Just watch me.” But he was right. Like it or not, the Webers were the closest thing she had to a family unless she wanted to go in search of her ancestors. And what on earth would she tell them? Hey, it’s your great-great-granddaughter come for a visit.

  Leaving Jack to wonder whether she would return, Diamond hurried over to her cabin and picked up a few supplies. When she came back, she might have imagined the flicker of relief which crossed Jack’s face, but she didn’t think so. She cleaned the wound as gently as she could despite his protests. It looked to be healing well, and she caught no smell of rot, but she wasn’t an expert. She’d squeezed a bit of antibiotic ointment from her precious cache of twenty-first century things onto the new bandage which she tied into place. “I brought some applesauce, too.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “I’ll leave it here for you, then. But drink some water.” She raised his shoulders and held a cup to his mouth.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be back to check on you when I can. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  “Bossy. Don’t know how Jesse tolerates you.”

  Diamond froze. She supposed a hefty dowry went a long way to whitewashing other faults. “My marriage is not your concern.”

  “Don’t worry. One marriage is more than enough to handle. Amy will be angry with me.”

  “And rightly so. Wives don’t like it when their husbands put themselves in danger.”

  Jack’s gaze darted away and when he spoke, his voice was gruff. “It may have escaped your notice, but we’re at war here. No one is safe.”

  Diamond’s breath caught. “Have you led trouble to our door?”

  “Not likely they will come this far,” he said, but still refused to meet her gaze.

  Diamond gathered her supplies and left the room. Best to be on the lookout for Union troops. There was something Jack wasn’t telling her.

  * * *

  Jesse eluded Union pursuit for several days. As Jack had promised, he knew the country and where to hide. He longed to follow Jack to New Madrid, to hold Diamond in his arms again and see with his own eyes that she was safe, but was honor-bound to return to his regiment. Besides, if the soldiers found his trail, he didn’t want to lead them to Jack or cause trouble for Diamond and Janet.

  He lived off the rations they had stolen from town, supplementing with berries he found in the woods or crops he took from nearby fields. He didn’t hunt, not wanting to risk the noise of a gunshot.

  He angled southwest, hoping to intercept the retreating Confederates, but knowing they were probably already in Arkansas. They would make far better time on horseback than he could on foot unless they had to stop and face Union troops in battle. If he didn’t meet up with his unit, he planned to go to Little Rock where his father would know where they were.

  He moved quickly to evade pursuit but was in no real hurry to rejoin his regiment. His regret at enlisting grew with every month the war dragged on. War wasn’t honorable, as he had thought when he signed up. Their actions in the town sickened him even more than the blood and violence of a pitched battle. And he would never forget the fear he’d felt when he saw Jack collapse. War was blood, guts, fear, and sweat all rolled up together. His father had been right. War was hell.

  At night he slept in his bedroll, not bothering with the tent in the July heat. He hoped Jack had made it safely home and prayed the Unions soldiers had given up and gone back to their ranks, or better yet, had never picked up their trail at all. Before he slept each night, he read his latest letter from Diamond. She had a way with words and he understood how she had made her living as a reporter, although he was still fuzzy with concepts such as television and uneasy about women working alongside men. He wasn’t sure why he found it so disturbing. Diamond was surely as capable as any man he knew.

  She and Janet would do their best to help Jack, but he hoped doing so didn’t put them in danger. After his experiences in town, Jesse no longer thought it a good idea for Diamond and Janet to move back to New Madrid which was firmly in Union control. His sister might be safe, considering she was engaged to a Union officer, but as the wife of a Confederate soldier, Diamond might be fair game for harassment—or worse.

  Most nights he dozed, but eventually exhaustion got the upper hand and he slept deeply, dreamlessly. The next morning he felt better than he had since the raid on the town. By his reckoning he was close to the Arkansas border and would soon be within the relative safety of Confederate territory.

  After a quick breakfast of dried fruit and hardtack, he continued on his way, keeping to the woods as much as possible. As the sun climbed in the sky and the water level in his canteen dipped, he looked for signs of a stream. Catching sight of one in the distance, he altered course just as a bullet tore past his head and buried itself in a tree. He hit the ground rolling almost before the echo of the gunshot faded.

  He crawled behind a tree and surveyed the area. Nothing looked out of place, but the birds had fallen silent. A small animal skittered through the dry leaves on the forest floor. Jesse’s heart raced, pounding in his ears so loud he thought his assailant must surely hear it. He took deep breaths, trying to slow its frantic pace.

  A twig cracked underfoot and Jesse fired at the sound. A blast came from his right and he fired there, too. How many were there? Jesse had two six-shot pistols and extra ammunition, but with only the tree for cover, he wouldn’t be able to hold off a superior force for long.

  Silence stretched his nerves. Then another blast, closer this time. He needed to move. Keeping low to the ground, he dashed from his hiding spot. Shots kicked up the dirt at his feet as he dove behind another tree. Jesse returned fire.

  “You’re outnumbered. Give yourself up,” one man yelled.

  And then what? Will they take him prisoner or kill him on the spot? Jesse kept quiet, slipping towards the creek. Could he outrun them? He heard the gentle splash of water over rocks. Nearly there. The banks were higher than he expected, high enough to make a stand. He dropped to the edge of the water. Glimpsing blue to his right, he fired. An answering yell told him he’d hit his mark. Had he evened the odds or only wounded the other man?

  Fire erupted from the left, but the bullets dug harmlessly into his earthen shield. They were wasting am
munition. Jesse took off, running alongside the creek and splashing through it when necessary. His foot slipped on a rock and he went down hard on one knee.

  “Hold it right there.”

  Jesse stilled, knee throbbing. He heard the click of a pistol being cocked and a shiver coursed down his spine.

  “Drop the pistol and put your hands on your head. Get up real slow now.”

  Jesse complied, tossing his gun several feet away, clasping his hands behind his head and staggering to his feet. He swayed as his knee buckled beneath him, but kept his footing.

  “Turn around.”

  Jesse pivoted, looking into the hard eyes of a Union soldier.

  “You shot one of my men.”

  “They were shooting at me.”

  “Damned bushwhacker.” Never lowering his weapon, the man stepped forward and wrenched Jesse’s spare gun from the waistband of his trousers.

  “I’m regular army, just like you.”

  “Regular armies don’t attack civilians.”

  “I follow orders. And we had it on good authority that some of those men spy for the Union.”

  “Seems to me they were just doing their duty as law-abiding citizens of the United States. While you’re little more than a common criminal.”

  Jesse didn’t really disagree, but if the man decided he was a bushwhacker he’d shoot him on the spot. “Living off the land is an established military practice.”

  “And terrorizing women and children?”

  Jesse remained silent. He’d said his piece. They both knew the innocent often suffered in wartime. What had happened in the town was ugly, but not unique. And not restricted to those who supported the South.

  Jesse looked the other man in the eye. He had surrendered to them and according to the rules of war they should take him prisoner. But there was no one to know—or care—if they finished him off here and now. It would be easier than transporting him to St. Louis.

  But Jesse knew he would never shoot an unarmed man and hoped the Union soldier shared his ethics. “You could offer me parole.”