by Mary Ellis
“What on earth?” she whispered.
“Hush and stay down.” Elliott repeated his bird call.
For several moments they listened to silence and then heard an equally poor imitation of an owl’s cry.
Inhaling a deep breath, Elliott stepped into the circle of moonlight.
“Colonel Haywood, I presume?” A deep voice resonated from the shadows.
“Show yourself, General Downing. Have you come alone?”
“What?” Though she burst from the shrubbery, the colonel held on to her tightly.
James Downing stepped from the shadows twenty paces away. Taller than Elliott had imagined, the general looked powerful as a bull with a chest almost as wide. “I have two lieutenants tending the horses, but I approach you unarmed.” He slowly lifted his hands, revealing an empty scabbard and holster.
“James, is it really you? I can’t believe my eyes.” Madeline broke free and closed the distance in a few long strides.
The poignant reunion of two people separated so long nearly ripped Elliott’s soul in half. Downing enveloped Mrs. Howard in his arms, knocking off her cap and releasing her mane of golden hair. He planted a string of kisses across her forehead. Her response was no less enthusiastic. She transformed in the Yankee’s presence. She’d spoken of her feelings for him, but until Elliott witnessed for himself he’d refused to believe. Their affection—their passion—was punishment to watch. He’d been deluded, not by her but by himself, his male ego tricking him into believing he could capture a heart that belonged to another. Clearing his throat, Elliott approached the pair unconcerned who might be hiding in the trees.
“Excuse me, sir.” General Downing swept his wide-brimmed hat from his head, pulled off his gloves, and extended his hand. Madeline shrank back in embarrassment. “I would like to thank you—”
“Save your words, General. I didn’t do this for you.” His voice was little more than a growl. “I owed Mrs. Howard a debt from Gettysburg. Now she and I are square.”
Withdrawing his hand, the general nodded with mute understanding. He knew Elliott’s motivation went beyond the ageless code of honor among enemies. “I will see that she safely reaches Pennsylvania soil. You have my word.”
“How on earth did you know where we would be?” asked Madeline.
“Colonel Haywood sent his aide directly from Petersburg under a white flag of truce. He said he would bring you to this river ford and described its location perfectly.”
Madeline turned toward him with a tender smile. “Thank you, Colonel. Your debt has been repaid many times over.”
Elliott felt weak in the knees. Filled with envy for the general’s happiness, he looked away. “You should get moving. Resume your belated reunion once you are on Northern soil. I have no desire to be hanged on your behalf, General Downing, should my pickets find us first.”
Downing whistled into the darkness. Almost immediately, two grim-faced soldiers appeared, holding the reins of four saddled horses.
“Bo! You still have her.” Mrs. Howard threw her arms around her horse’s neck. She pulled the reins from the lieutenant’s hands and swung up into the saddle as effortlessly as any cavalry soldier. But instead of joining the general’s side, she nudged her horse in Elliott’s direction. “I will continue to pray for your safety, Colonel.” She extended her hand.
Instead of shaking, Elliott kissed the backs of her slender fingers. “You will want to change out of that Confederate uniform as soon as possible.” He pulled her valise off of his shoulder and tied it to her saddle horn.
Downing cleared his throat and met Elliott’s gaze. “I suggest you ride due north and avoid roads south of here. Our normal logistics have been reversed—my army is south of yours.” With a tip of his hat, the general kicked his horse’s flanks. In an instant, the four riders crossed the river and disappeared into the woods, leaving Elliott staring into the dark for a long while.
Although he was now alone, he could still hear her infectious laughter and smell her lemon verbena. Four years’ worth of anger and frustration, along with something far more personal, rose from deep in his gut and threatened to explode. Finally, when his rage subsided, Elliott walked back to where he’d left his horse, thankful for the long ride ahead of him to find his division. He needed time to dwell on the sweet hours they had spent together and consider what he might have done differently.
Because once he returned to Richmond, he vowed never to think about Madeline Howard again.
Judging by the sun’s last glow against a dark sky, the well-packed trail ran true west. The four riders put less than five miles between themselves and whatever troops the Confederate colonel had hidden in the woods. Unfamiliar with the territory, General Downing selected a spot he hoped was beyond the usual radius of a picket line. “We’ll make camp here for the night,” he announced, reining to a stop. “The horses have ridden hard and will be no use to us if they go lame.”
Madeline reined to a stop and peered around the small clearing. Trees and scrub loomed menacingly on all sides. “Where are we?”
“In my estimation, we’re smack in the middle of nowhere, but that should make us difficult to find by the Rebs.” James reached up to help her off the horse.
“This doesn’t appear too loathsome a place.” Madeline slid effortlessly into his arms and then turned to unbuckle the straps on Bo’s saddle.
“My aides will see to that.” James took her by the hand. “Lieutenant Jeffries, please feed and water the horses. Then you men open your haversacks and find a soft spot for bedrolls.” The soldiers snapped salutes and saw to his orders, astute enough to stand watch without intruding on his privacy.
“Come, Madeline, have something to eat and then rest. You must be starving.” James led her to a massive oak tree and spread out the wool blanket on a thick patch of moss.
“What do we have for supper?” she asked, dropping to her knees.
He opened the parcel procured from an Army suttler. “Smoked turkey, bread, cheese, raisins, and dried currants.”
Her eyes widened with the array. “That’s more food than I’ve seen in a long time. Thank you.” She picked up the canteen and drank half the contents before selecting a piece of bread and cheese.
While she ate he built a small fire to keep the mosquitos at bay. “Don’t be shy. We’ve had plenty to eat lately.”
“Won’t the fire draw attention to our location?”
“It shouldn’t as long as we keep it small. The wind is from the west.” James added dry sticks and fanned the flame into a small blaze.
“Aren’t you having something to eat?” Madeline handed him a turkey leg.
James took it to put her at ease. “If you insist, but I would much rather just watch you.”
“To evaluate my table manners on the trail?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“To study every detail of a face I’ve dreamed about for months.”
Madeline paused between bites. “I have missed you too, James.”
He waited to speak until she’d eaten a few more bites. “Colonel Haywood grew rather fond of you during your stay in Richmond.” It wasn’t a question.
Madeline swallowed and met his gaze. “Yes, he did—a fact that causes me no small measure of shame.”
“What do you have to be ashamed of?” James felt his back stiffen.
“Believing the end justified the means, I used our friendship to mask my subterfuge.” Madeline placed the piece of meat down on the wrapper. “But I don’t feel that Christians should lie, manipulate, or steal—not even for noble purposes. Colonel Haywood and my uncle risked their lives for me after I betrayed their trust. I’m sorry I returned to Richmond and foolishly assumed I was cut out for this… espionage business.”
“I never should have let you leave Culpeper in February.”
“You couldn’t have stopped me, James.” A grin played at the corners of her mouth. “I’ve never been one to listen to common sense.”
“We have b
rigs and stockades for those who refuse to follow orders.”
Madeline winked at him. “Never underestimate the power of a willful woman. I would have bribed your guards into releasing me.”
He laughed, feelings the knots in his stomach loosen. “Don’t think me ungrateful for what Colonel Haywood did tonight, or for the protection he provided in Richmond.”
“That’s a relief to hear. For a moment there, I thought you might be jealous.” Madeline reached out and touched his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
The sensation caused his heart to miss several beats. “Is this the face you remember?” Emotion turned his voice hoarse.
“It’s very much as I recall.” Her hand paused on his lips.
James kissed her fingertips, wrapped an arm around her waist, and leaned against the tree.
“This looks like a comfortable spot to pass the night,” Madeline said softly, nestling into his shoulder.
James shuddered in pain. “Can we try the other side?”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling away.
“A minor wound, nothing to worry about,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You were shot?” Her eyes grew round.
“Yes, but I’m fine—”
“I will check your wound once we get where we’re going. After all, I had a whole day of nurse’s training,” Madeline said, smiling as he directed her to his other side and nestled her into the crook of that arm.
“Only one day, yet you managed to save Colonel Haywood’s life.” He hoped that didn’t sound as petty to her ears as it did to his.
“Please don’t worry about him, James. You have my heart.”
He withdrew the tintype taken at the ball from his pocket. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Pulling the frame from his fingers, she stared in abject shock. “Is this why you wrote that letter? I can’t imagine how this picture found its way to you, but the colonel was never more to me than a friend.”
“Thank goodness. I feared calling out an aristocrat at dawn wouldn’t go well for me, but for you I would risk far more than dueling pistols.” He kissed the top of her head. “I regretted writing that letter as soon as it was posted. Then when I discovered my chief of staff’s trickery, my regret increased ten-fold. Justin Henry was badly wounded at Fort Stedman, but before he died, he confessed to burning my letters to you, along with yours to me. And for obtaining the picture so he could end our relationship.”
“We have no need of letters or subterfuge, and certainly no dueling pistols at dawn. Nothing will separate us ever again.” Madeline tossed the framed tintype into the fire.
For several minutes they watched the metal warp and distort from the heat. Once it was beyond recognition, he said, “Tomorrow we ride due west along the rail line until we reach Farmville. At the station I’ll put you on the train to Lynchburg, where you can catch the train to Culpeper. I’ll make arrangements for you at the inn.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t be separated from you—”
“Please do this for me, Madeline. I must rejoin my men and fight until this blasted war is finished. We must ensure that the Rebs don’t slip through our fingers and join Joe Johnston in North Carolina. Without reinforcements, Lee will have no choice but to surrender.”
“As you wish,” she said, though not without reluctance. Then she sighed. “My willfulness hasn’t served me very well.”
“I will come for you. You have my word.”
Madeline leaned back to see his face. “What about my horse? Now that I have Bo, I don’t relish letting her go either.”
“I’ll keep your horse safe until she can be returned to Pennsylvania.”
“In that case, why don’t we rest for a few minutes?” Madeline nestled again into his good shoulder.
“An excellent idea.” Tightening his embrace, James heard the rhythm of steady breathing within moments. Madeline had fallen asleep in his arms.
For several hours he stared into the fire, enjoying the warmth of her body and the sweet smell of her hair. Tomorrow they would set off at first light. As they had since leaving Petersburg, they would ride past plenty of pretty farms. But a closer inspection revealed peeling paint, missing shutters, and broken fences. Pastures would be overrun with sumac and hawthorn, with grapevines covering every upright fencepost. Only women and children would be tilling and hoeing the fields, as though not a single man were left in a country devoured by two rampaging beasts.
When James finally fell asleep, dead soldiers marched through his dreams in a ghastly parade. Many dead Confederates also paid him a call that night. He would see their young faces when he closed his eyes for the rest of his life. Off in the distance lightning flashed, followed by the low rumble of thunder a few moments later.
A storm was coming… or perhaps the maelstrom was finally moving out to sea.
TWENTY-FIVE
Culpeper, Virginia
APRIL 10, 1865
Hold your horses! I’m coming.” The innkeeper’s irate voice permeated the thick oak wood.
James pulled off his hat and swept a hand through his tangled hair. When she had opened the door, he said, “Begging your pardon, madam, but four years has made me a tad impatient.”
“General Downing! Come in, sir. I had no idea it would be you.”
“Is Mrs. Howard here?” he asked, attempting to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt.
“Of course she is. I received your letter explaining that Mrs. Howard is not actually your sister and the wire transfer of gold. I must say you were more than generous for a week’s room and board for one skinny gal.”
“Did you follow my instructions?”
“Yes, sir. I took her to my personal dressmaker. But Mrs. Howard bought only two day dresses, walking shoes, and one rather plain hat. Oh, and some new unmentionables. Nothing fancy, I assure you. She said she has no need of—”
“Thank you, Mrs. Lang, for your diligence. Now if I might have a word with Mrs. Howard.” James scuffed his boots on the porch boards.
“Of course, sir. Will you be staying the night?” Her dark eyes blinked several times.
“If you have an available room.” James’s impatience began to simmer like a teakettle.
“Oh, I have lots of space. Few folks are traveling these days. At least none with money to spend. I expect you and Mrs. Howard would like dinner tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am. Now, if you would be kind enough—”
“How about a nice pot roast with boiled peas served by the fire?”
“Fine. I honestly don’t care if it’s horsemeat with pickled turnips! May I please see Mrs. Howard?”
Mrs. Lang lifted her chin indignantly. “No call to get all prickly, sir. I’ll fetch her to the parlor.” Stomping up the steps, she left him standing in the open doorway.
James walked into the parlor, where dust motes floated in the slanted light from the west windows. He had thought about their February dinner so many times that he had memorized every detail of the room. After a few minutes he heard a clatter of feet on the steps. Then the love of his life burst through the doorway. A thin ribbon held back her long blond curls, while being away from the city had turned her complexion into a mass of freckles. The sunny glow of her flushed face intensified her blue irises. Her beauty caused his mouth to go dry and his blood to quicken in his veins.
“Is it really you?” she gasped, breathless. “I can’t believe you’re here! We heard rumors in town, but no one could verify if they’re true.”
When Madeline crossed the room to throw herself in his arms, James forgot his rehearsed speech, his promises of unending devotion. They held each other closely, silently, until he drew her to arm’s length. “It’s true. The war is over. General Lee surrendered his army in Appomattox Courthouse yesterday. I have tonight and tomorrow morning here in Culpeper.”
Madeline stepped back from his embrace. “If the war is over, why on earth must you go back?”
“I m
ust properly muster-out my corps or they won’t receive the back pay they are due. And we need to prepare parole papers for the surrendering Confederates. If they promise to never again bear arms against the Union, they won’t be imprisoned. I will face the wrath of General Grant if I’m not on the train tomorrow afternoon.”
“Then why have you come?” Madeline crossed her arms with more indignation than the innkeeper. “You simply craved a pleasant jaunt through the countryside?”
His confidence slipped a notch. “I have important business here tomorrow morning—an urgent errand that won’t wait. And I would like to have dinner with you tonight.”
She perched her hands on her hips. “And what about right now, General Downing? Do you have something in mind for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Well… yes. Because we have no horses for a springtime ride, I thought a walk along the streets of Culpeper would be nice. Unless, of course, you have other plans.”
She laughed despite her irritation. “Most assuredly, I do not. I’ll just get my shawl.”
A few minutes later she appeared on the porch wrapped in lace. “Do you have some place special in mind, or shall we walk aimlessly until our legs give out?” Linking her arm through his, she turned her face up to him.
“Anywhere, as long as the innkeeper isn’t lurking behind the door. She was listening to our entire conversation in the parlor.”
Madeline laughed again. “Unfortunately, I’m no stranger to eavesdropping. Ever since you sent that pouch of gold, Mrs. Lang has been fascinated by you. Nobody in Culpeper has seen that kind of money in ages.”
“I’m eager to be frivolous. For four long years, I had few places to spend my army pay.”
“Thank you for my accommodations and the lovely clothes, although the new shoes do pinch my toes a bit.” She lifted one high-laced boot from beneath her skirt. “Didn’t you wish to see me in the same two worn-out dresses? Mrs. Lang probably assumes the worst about my reputation.”