Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia

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Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia Page 13

by Jessica James


  Andrea blinked and tried unsuccessfully to read the expression on his face. She was only too happy to comply and free her hair from the uncomfortable style. But she demurred for a moment.

  “Might that be an order from my superior? Or a request from a friend?”

  Daniel lowered his eyes as if losing his courage, then raised them again and grinned. “Let’s say it is both. So if you cannot obey the one, perhaps you can grant the other.”

  “Then it would seem I am doubly obliged to consent.” Leaning back against his strong hands, she pulled the single comb from her hair and unwrapped a green ribbon. Shaking her head once, she let the river breeze pick up the soft locks and blow them gently back.

  “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” Daniel whispered, running his fingers through the blonde tendrils.

  “You think of me?” Andrea looked up disbelievingly, her hands holding onto the lapel of his coat. “Like this?”

  Daniel smiled out of the corner of his mouth and dropped his gaze down to meet hers. “More than an honorable man would care to admit,” he said hoarsely.

  Andrea’s cheeks grew warm at the attention, and she was suddenly breathless and warm and confused.

  Daniel’s gaze drifted back to her hair, and again he ran his hand through its length, staring as if unable to grasp how a recurring dream had suddenly materialized into reality. Andrea saw him swallow hard, felt his hands move from her hair, to her neck, to her face.

  “Andrea,” he whispered, just before his lips lowered to hers. He barely touched them at first, an action that appeared to be nothing more than a cordial impulse. But then he lingered in a long, sensual, affectionate kiss that implied much more than simple friendship.

  Andrea pulled back, her eyes wide. “Dan,” she said, her fingers clutching his arms. “You move too fast.”

  “My apologies,” he whispered, his chest rising and falling heavily against hers, his arms refusing to relinquish their hold. “As you said, time is so fleeting these days. It is that which dictates the pace.”

  Andrea relaxed into him, sensing his urgency and feeling helpless to resist. “But I—”

  “My dear Andrea. I will try to go slow,” Daniel whispered, his arms wrapped around her protectively. “But you must know I … adore you.”

  “I am unfamiliar with this,” Andrea said softly, confused at her own emotions, hoping he would understand that men had been nothing but comrades to joke with, fellow soldiers to be ridiculed by, or officers to take orders from. Then her thoughts drifted to her father, the only other male figurehead in her life. “My father,” she began, trying to explain. “My father showed me a side of men that I … that I …”

  Daniel tightened his grip around her. “Then I would be honored to be the one to make you familiar with the other side of a man.”

  Andrea lifted her head, wanting to read his eyes.

  “I want to protect you from everything and stand ready to take every possible burden off your shoulders. You will let me try, won’t you?”

  “I never had anyone wish to take care of me.” She gripped his coat, her heart racing. “I don’t know how.”

  “Do not fear,” Daniel whispered, his hand moving to the small of her back. “I will teach you.” He held her gently but firmly, like he was calming a frightened horse.

  Andrea tried to keep the distrust from showing on her face. But memories of her childhood came crashing back.

  “Andrea, please know I will protect you with my life, guard you with my honor, if you will but let me.” He placed her hand over his heart. “Can you not feel my desire for you?”

  Andrea gazed at her hand as she felt the rapid pulse there, and then up into his eyes. “Yes, Daniel. And it frightens me.”

  “I was unaware you felt fear.” He laughed, a gentle, rolling laugh, and pulled her to him again.

  “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” Andrea said, her voice cracking with despair.

  “I know you would not have traveled all this way, risked so much, if you did not care for me,” he said. “If you cannot trust me, trust your own heart, Andrea. Don’t fight it. I will attempt to win your heart and your trust.”

  Andrea leaned into him. “I can promise nothing. But I will try.”

  “Your being here is like a dream come true,” he said, stroking her hair. “It will sustain me for what is to come.”

  Andrea pushed herself back at his words. “Promise me you won’t take any risks, Daniel! This battle. You must not—”

  He put his finger to her lips to stop her. “We will take Fredericksburg, and then we will go to Richmond. And I will personally carry you away from there, and all this madness will end.”

  Andrea put her head against his chest again. “My knight,” she said smiling. “I will wait for you there.” She sighed deeply then, thinking of the distance between them. “We will be but fifty miles apart. Yet, it will seem we are separated by eternity.”

  “Here.” Daniel pulled a ring from his finger. “Take this. My grandfather gave it to me when I was a boy. It means much to me. And it would mean much more if you wore it.”

  “I cannot accept such a gift,” Andrea said softly, staring at the ring. “It belongs in your family.”

  “I trust that you will justly value it on that account,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “And perhaps, someday, we can arrange to have it stay there. Please.” He opened her hand. “It would give me much pleasure to know you had something of mine to look at each day, something that is only shared between you and I, so that you understand there is no one else for me.”

  He slid the ring onto her finger. “But, I don’t know what I’m promising with this.” Andrea’s voice shook. “I don’t know if I can—”

  “All you are promising is that you will think of me when you look at it.”

  “That I can do.” Andrea smiled. “And I will value it dearly.”

  “It’s a part of me.” Daniel’s voice was low, his eyes soft and solemn.

  “Then I shall feel like you are with me always,” Andrea said. “I will never remove it, no matter what. It is a part of me now.”

  “This is better than running, is it not?” he whispered in her ear.

  Andrea sighed. “You will be patient with me, Dan? You won’t rush me?”

  “My darling, Andrea,” he said, squeezing her tightly. “I will do anything for you. I will submit to any conditions you desire, for as long as you will allow me to.”

  Andrea exhaled and laid her head against his heart. The wool of his coat rubbed harshly against her face, yet she felt so comfortable there within his embrace. In the circle of his arms, she was the most fulfilled and satisfied she had ever been in her life.

  For a moment, she thought how easy it would be to stay, to try to become the woman he wished her to be, to forget the past. And then she pulled away, panicked at the idea that she would renounce all, simply for this feeling of utter contentment.

  “We have to write that report,” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

  Daniel stared at her a moment, bitter disappointment evident in his eyes. “Of course,” he said unable to keep the distress from his voice, though he made an obvious effort to sound agreeable. “As you wish. Follow me.”

  Chapter 16

  “War requires sacrifice and men are ready to pay it in their blood.”

  – Colonel Thomas S. Garnett to his wife, Emma

  Fredericksburg, Virginia

  December 15, 1862

  Andrea stared straight ahead as the carriage wheels rattled beneath her, clutching the message that had arrived hours earlier.

  “Brother wounded,” was all it said. It did not say “come,” yet she knew what it meant. Brother was the code name for Daniel. And they would not have taken the trouble to send the message if it was not serious.

  As she nervously played with the ring on her gloved finger, Andrea thought back to her last meeting with Daniel only a few weeks earlier. The visit had been so hurried, she’d
never had the chance to question him about the large ‘H’ engraved in the ring’s center, or the intricate lettering of the phrase: Honor Above All Things.

  She longed to ask him about his grandfather, about his family, and his life. She knew so little about Colonel Daniel Delaney, and he so little of her. She yearned to learn about his past—and, perhaps, in time, share a little of hers.

  Shifting her gaze to the window, Andrea shivered at the sights. All along the road walked bandaged and bloodied men with the litter of war strewn beyond them. According to soldiers they had passed, a hospital just ahead held the worst of the injured. Andrea found herself holding her breath, willing the horses to go faster and praying she would find Daniel safe.

  After what seemed like hours, the carriage rolled to a stop. Andrea stepped down before the driver had time to assist, and lifted her gaze to the building in front of her.

  “This is the hospital, miss. Will there be anything else?”

  Andrea heard the words but could not answer. She stared at the house, unblinking and unmoving, placing her hand on the carriage wheel to steady herself as the past collided with the present.

  The brightly lit mansion where she had spent a few hours of serenity with Daniel stood before her now ruined and ravaged by war. Even the lawn, once neat and well groomed, appeared as a vast swampland of muck. She turned her head away, toward the river, but the wreckage was no less devastating in that direction. Scattered everywhere, seemingly unaware of the chaos and mayhem around them, laid men indistinguishable from the dead.

  Andrea choked back the bile rising in her throat and slogged through the mud to the house. Rushing up the steps, she stopped in horror at the doorway. The walls and floor of the home were spattered with blood, and the injured and dying lay sprawled in every available space, many of them shivering convulsively with the pain of their wounds. Andrea could hear surgeons in the back of the house shouting above the din of delirious cries that made her bones ache with revulsion.

  Lifting her skirts, she stepped through the foyer, frantically studying the faces of the men at her feet. None appeared to be Daniel, though many were so covered in blood and mire that it was almost impossible to tell. Turning into a room off the hallway, a whimper of anguish escaped her. Lying on a door placed upon four bricks, she recognized the uniform of an officer.

  Andrea dropped to her knees beside him and took his hand in hers. “Daniel, are you awake?” She wiped the sweat from his brow with her glove. Daniel opened his eyes, stared at her face for a moment, then re-closed them. Andrea feared he did not recognize her.

  “Am I … in heaven?” he asked weakly.

  Andrea thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips, but dismissed it as her imagination. “No, you’re not in heaven.” She glanced up at the corner of hell she sat in, then bent down close to his face and stroked his forehead.

  “You’re not … an angel?” This time Andrea knew he was trying to smile.

  “Not according to the Rebels.” Andrea took both his hands in hers and squeezed them gently.

  Daniel remained quiet for a breathlessly long time, but Andrea knew he was only mustering the strength to speak.

  “You have … come … to me,” he murmured.

  “Dan, of course I came.” Andrea’s heart picked up its pace at how pale and despondent he looked. “I came as soon as I received word! I’ll stay and nurse you until you are completely healed.”

  His eyes fluttered open, but only for a moment. “I believe … too late … for that.”

  Andrea’s gaze shifted down to the blanket lying across him, to the large red splotch near his stomach. She bravely looked back up to his eyes.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, stroking his forehead. “I will nurse you until you are completely healed. You will see.”

  “Surgeon … said … nothing he … can do.”

  Andrea looked at his strained face and blinked at his words, refusing to believe they were true. Yet she felt her blood begin to throb with a faster cadence through her veins as the reality of what he said sank in.

  “No, Daniel, don’t say that. He doesn’t know. Like I said, I will stay!”

  “We made … good team,” he said, interrupting her. “I hoped someday …”

  “We make a good team.” Andrea cut in, her voice now pleading. “Surely your hopes are no different than mine.”

  Daniel opened his eyes and gazed into hers as if trying to read the sincerity of her words. “No one . . . promised tomorrow.” His speech was now slurred and barely audible over shouts outside of a soldier coming in under a flag of truce.

  “Right this way.” Andrea heard an officer bark the command outside the window.

  “I wanted to … protect you,” Daniel whispered.

  “I will let you protect me!” Andrea felt a tightening in her stomach as panic began to grow. “I will stay. I will do whatever you ask, Dan. Just please, don’t leave!”

  “Must … stop … Andrea.” He spoke with his eyes closed, yet there was urgency in his voice. “Please! Say you will … for me.”

  Andrea leaned down close to make sure she had heard him. “Dan, I will do whatever you wish,” she said, her heart breaking at the sight of him. “But please don’t ask that of me now. Not like this.”

  A shadow fell over them as someone entered the room and blocked the only light coming in. Glancing briefly over her shoulder at the intrusion, Andrea turned her head back for a second look. Captain Alexander Hunter stood in the doorway, a slouch hat pulled down low over his face, the uniform of a Confederate private stretched across his large frame.

  Andrea’s mind was too confused to wonder why he was here, her heart too numb to care. She watched a similar look of surprise flash across his eyes when he recognized her, but it was quickly replaced by concern for the man lying before her.

  “How is he?” He kneeled on the other side of Daniel.

  Daniel opened his eyes. “Alex?”

  “Yes, Dan, I’m here.” Hunter bent down close.

  “You shouldn’t … have come.” Daniel coughed and winced. “Too … dangerous.”

  Andrea could not help but agree. She surmised Hunter had not used his real name to cross the lines, for the Federals would never consent to letting him back out if he had—not even under a flag of truce.

  Hunter grasped Daniel’s shoulder firmly. “You’re going to be all right, Danny boy,” he said in a voice that urged the man to live. “Just hold on.” Then Hunter raised his head and looked around. “Where’s the blasted surgeon?”

  Andrea looked incredulously at Hunter. She had never dreamed it possible to see so much compassion and concern shine in those cold, gray eyes.

  “Don’t think …you can fix it … this time …big brother.” Daniel’s breathing grew more shallow. Andrea blinked and gazed up at Hunter, but he was looking down at the hand Daniel was trying to raise. Hunter grasped it, and Daniel smiled weakly.

  “You’re … the best … Alex,” he whispered. “I wish that we …”

  “I understand, Dan.” Hunter’s voice trembled. “Don’t try to talk. Just rest.”

  Andrea took a deep breath during the ensuing silence, willing herself not to look up at Hunter, and yet half afraid to glance down at Daniel. After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel opened his lids again, his eyes bright and glazed with pain. “You will … let no harm … befall her.”

  It was not a question, nor a statement, but was spoken clearly in the tone of an appeal.

  Hunter’s gaze lifted and met Andrea’s, then lowered again. “You have my word.”

  The promise had no effect on Daniel, save make him more restless. He struggled to raise his head. “But there are things … things you know not of.” He sounded frenzied as he looked deep into Hunter’s eyes.

  Andrea pushed Daniel back down. “Daniel, please rest.” She felt Hunter’s gaze burning into her.

  “No matter the circumstances, Dan,” Hunter said reassuringly “You have my word.”

 
; Daniel closed his eyes and relaxed then as if a great weight had been lifted. When Andrea stroked a lock of hair from his forehead, his eyes fluttered open at the contact. He gazed glassy-eyed at her as if he wanted to speak again. Andrea leaned down close, her face just inches from his. “It was an honor … to have known you,” he murmured, his breathing growing raspy.

  Andrea kissed his cheek. “The honor, Daniel,” she said softly in his ear, “is all mine.”

  He must have heard the words, because he opened his eyes and took another deep, raspy breath. “Andrea, remember me …”

  Andrea barely heard his whispered, feeble words. She leaned even closer, waiting breathlessly for him to finish, but not another word was spoken. The gallant soldier closed his eyes and was still.

  Desperate to believe he was just gathering strength, Andrea continued to hold her breath and listen for the sound of his voice. Hunter reached over and touched her arm. “He’s gone.”

  Andrea stared at Hunter intently for a long moment as if the language he spoke was foreign to her. Then to prove him wrong, she reached down and picked up Daniel’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze. It felt cold, not at all like Daniel.

  Dropping it in revulsion, Andrea heard the limb hit the floor with a thud. She sat back on her heels and looked at Daniel’s face. His eyes, half-open now, stared vacantly at the ceiling.

  Blinking repeatedly, Andrea looked accusingly at Hunter, as if he should do something. “But—”

  Hunter stood and offered his hand to help her up. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Andrea continued to shake her head, wringing her hands and rocking back and forth. Dear Lord, they killed him! She raised her eyes and glared at Hunter, who now conversed in low tones with an orderly. Already they wanted to move Daniel. They had a body, a living one, to put in his place.

  “I’ll take him back to my family home for burial.”

  The orderly nodded. “Very well. I’ll get some men to help.”

  Andrea struggled to stand, grabbing Hunter’s arm as she stumbled to her feet. “Wait! No!”

 

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