Hunter looked down at her hand like he was unaccustomed to people touching him without permission. “I beg your pardon?”
“In the ground?” Andrea’s gaze darted from the man on the floor to the man standing over him. “You’re going to put Dan … in the ground?”
Hunter looked her squarely in the eye and responded in an unemotional voice. “I don’t know how they do it where you come from, Miss Marlow, but that’s generally how they bury people in Virginia.”
Andrea felt a wave of nausea overcome her. Suddenly the stench of the room, the sounds of dying men, the blood soaking into the bottom of her dress in this ghastly house of suffering was more than she could take. She picked up her skirts and ran out the back door, past the very tree where she had stood with Daniel a few weeks earlier—the same tree whose bare limbs now stood guard over a haphazard heap of mutilated arms and legs.
Hand over her mouth Andrea ran, the cold air stinging her face, until at the river’s edge, she could hold it no longer. The sights and sounds and smells rendered her convulsively ill. Clinging to the side of a tree for support she choked and retched as the river lapped playfully at the banks below. For so long, death had passed her by. Now it was real. Andrea could hear the clods of dirt falling on Daniel as clearly as if they were falling on her own body, smothering her, choking her. Her heart shuddered; her chest ached. She was sweating and freezing; she shook, yet was numb. Daniel. Oh, Daniel. So many things she had meant to tell him. Dear Lord, I never even told him my full name!
Andrea started to pace. It was a dream. It must be a dream. She would wake up soon. Dear God in heaven, don’t let it be real!
But when Andrea glanced to her left, the reality was all too real. Fresh mounds of earth told of the dead that already slept below. The vaguely penetrating odor of blood and death grew inescapable and overpowering. Andrea grabbed her chest, pulling and tugging at her cloak to give her heart more room to tremble. Hearing the sound of wood sliding on wood, she turned to see men loading a pine box in a wagon behind her. She flinched when an icy drop of sleet fell from the sky, stinging her cheek and confirming it was not a dream.
“The favorites of the gods die early,” her Mammy had always told her, “and then the angels cry.” Andrea raised her face toward heaven and let the angels’ frozen tears fall unhindered upon her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Union soldiers mounting to accompany the wagon back through the lines, and Hunter striding toward her. She turned back to the river.
“Are you all right, Miss Marlow?” His voice came from just behind her shoulder.
She nodded, but continued to gaze out over the water.
“They will allow you safely back through the lines to Richmond?”
Andrea nodded again.
“Very well.” He turned to leave.
“Captain.”
“Yes?” Hunter came back to her and she turned around.
“That is a good man you’ll be b-b-burying.” Andrea stumbled over the word, as if by saying it she admitted he was gone.
Hunter took a deep breath as he gazed over her head. “I know that.”
Andrea stepped forward when she heard the pain in his voice. She did not see him as an enemy at this moment, but Daniel’s brother, his own flesh and blood. Tentatively reaching out to console him for his loss, she felt him stiffen a moment before hesitatingly wrapping his arms around her, a concession that he needed her comfort as much as she needed his.
“The price is too high,” Andrea whispered, clinging to the coarse wool of his coat.
“Too high indeed,” was the grave reply.
And so they stood there holding onto each other as the sky spit snow—he fiercely devoted to the Confederacy; she, fervently dedicated to the Union … yet joined, at this moment, in solemn unity for a man they both had loved.
Chapter 17
“Stand by your principles, stand by your guns, and victory,
complete and permanent shall be yours.”
– Abraham Lincoln
Richmond, Virginia
May, 1863
Even though angry clouds gathered overhead, Andrea knew the storm would not amount to much. She hurried along the sidewalk with her head down, contemplating how soon—and how—she would depart from Richmond. Daniel’s death had settled over her like a dark cloud of despair these past five months. She no longer had the heart to continue her work in the Confederacy, or the will to keep up her charade as a loyal Southerner. As each day faded into the next, she grew more and more determined to leave.
A loud scream and the sound of thundering horses broke through her thoughts. “Runaways!” She heard the word just as a two-horse team and wagon barreled into view.
Andrea watched a soldier run alongside the wagon, jump into the seat, and haul on the reins, but the horses continued running, too frightened to stop. The street ended a mere half a block away, and an open market with dozens of unsuspecting shoppers lay directly in the horses’ path.
Without hesitation, Andrea stepped onto the road. “Whoa there, boys,” she said, stretching her arms in front of her. Although the horses surged toward her, Andrea stood motionless, giving no ground. “Easy. Easy.”
As the team drew nearer, they continued throwing their heads and grinding the bit in their teeth, fighting the person hauling on the reins. Andrea sidestepped out of their way when it became apparent they were not going to stop. But when they got directly beside her, she grabbed the bridle of the nearest horse.
“Whoa, son!” She yanked hard with both hands, throwing all her weight into the move as the leather burned her hands. The horses jerked to a nervous stop and stood shaking and foaming in the street.
“Easy now, boys.” Andrea talked in a soothing tone while patting the frothing horse on the neck. The team continued trembling and snorting, and Andrea knew any sudden movement could cause them to erupt again.
“Nice catch, Miss Marlow.”
Andrea whipped her head around as Captain Hunter jumped lightly from the seat.
“Captain Hunter.” She clenched the horse’s bridle. “I didn’t know you were in Richmond.”
“And I didn’t know you were such a foolish young lady,” he said rather harshly as he grabbed the bridle from her hand. Andrea noted that his formerly bronzed face appeared pale.
“Someone could have been hurt.” She looked at the street beginning to fill again, then at her tender, dirt-stained hands.
“Yes, and that someone could have been you!”
“I thought—”
“No, I don’t believe you thought at all. No one who had any thoughts in their head would have stood directly in front of more than two tons of horseflesh!”
Andrea did not have time to argue as a young man came running up the street.
“Thank you, sir.” Breathing heavily, he took the reins from Hunter. “Blasted kids lit a firecracker right under their feet.”
Andrea backed up to the sidewalk. She was about to bid Hunter goodbye, when he spoke.
“I just engaged a hack. Will you permit me the favor of escorting you home safely?”
Andrea thought his voice conveyed true concern, but with Hunter she could not be sure. She wanted desperately to refuse, but knew it was obvious to him by now that she was on foot and had no escort. She did not want to raise suspicions by declining the offer. “That would be lovely.” She took a deep breath, knowing her tone failed to communicate the words.
“It’s right this way.”
When he turned and started walking away, Andrea had to practically run to keep up. “Are you in Richmond for business or pleasure?” she asked, gasping for breath as he helped her into the seat of the rented carriage.
Hunter did not answer until he had climbed up beside her. Then he glanced down at her as if the word pleasure was foreign to his ears. “Business.” His tone conveyed she would hear no more about the purpose or significance of his presence in Richmond. “And what about you?” He slapped the horse with the reins.
Andrea looked u
p at him confused.
“Business or pleasure? This is not a part of Richmond where I would expect to see you.”
“I-I was just visiting a friend.” Andrea realized Hunter could have been watching her. For all she knew, he had been following her. She remembered Daniel’s words about his brother. He would wait until the time is right …
“Without an escort? Have you no regard for your reputation?”
Andrea tried to make her voice sound cordial. “Do you regard all women with suspicion, Captain? Or just me?”
“Why must you think I regard you with suspicion, Miss Marlow?” He gave a laugh that sounded forced. “Could it be because you seem to have fallen from the sky into Richmond with no one to vouch for your reputation other than your aunt, whose background is not above suspicion itself? Or because I find you walking through Richmond in a suspicious area of town without an escort? Or because—” Hunter paused and looked down at her hand. “Because you wear the ring of a dead Federal officer. Shall I go on?”
Andrea looked up at his face in surprise and then down at her hand. Mechanically her gaze shifted to Hunter’s right hand, where she saw a ring almost identical to the one she wore. Now she knew the reason for his sudden callousness. What she didn’t know was how she would weave her way out of this web of deceit.
“Daniel gave me this, uh, right before he died.” She took a deep breath while twisting the ring. “He … that is, we—”
“I find it a bit odd that a loyal citizen of the South would continue to honor the memory of a Union officer.” Hunter’s hands clenched the reins more tightly. “Perhaps you view it as a trophy? My brother was a good man, despite the color of the uniform he wore. He did not deserve to be used in a game of deceit.”
Andrea took a sharp breath, realizing that Hunter believed she had used Daniel to gather information for the Confederacy. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Though relieved to hear that Hunter believed she was a loyal Southerner, she did not wish him to think she dishonored Daniel. “It’s just that … well … Daniel was a friend before he was an enemy.”
Hunter glanced over at her with a confused look on his face. “So how is it that you knew Daniel? You never had the chance to tell me.”
Although his voice sounded gentler now, Andrea knew it was a ploy. Things were not adding up in his mind.
“Well, how did you happen to be brothers? You never had the chance to tell me.”
Hunter glanced down at her with a look of annoyance. “Do you always answer a question with a question?
“Does it seem like I do?” Andrea grinned at her joke, though it was obvious Hunter did not share in the amusement.
“My father, Joseph Hunter, died when I was young. My mother remarried James Delaney and I got a baby brother, Daniel. Satisfied?”
“You were close?” Andrea heard the unmistakable sadness in his voice.
“My mother and James were about as fond of children as they were of learning how to be horse breeders. They left Hawthorne to be closer to his family in New York when I was ten, leaving us with our grandfather.”
So that’s why Daniel fought for the Union, Andrea thought. His father’s family was from the North.
“Anyway, my grandfather knew I would eventually take over Hawthorne, and raised us until he died. I was eighteen, then. Daniel was twelve.”
“So you raised Daniel.”
He shrugged. “I did what I could.”
Andrea stared at the ring on her finger. “He never told me you were brothers, but I could tell he respected you greatly … admired you.”
“The feeling was mutual.” Glancing sideways at her, he must have seen her staring at his ring. “It says: “Dare All for Sacred Honor.”
“My grandfather had them each made.” He cleared his throat in such a way then that Andrea knew he was getting ready to change the subject. She instinctively braced herself.
“I’ve often wondered what Daniel meant when he insisted there were things I did not know.”
His voice sounded casual, yet Andrea’s heart pounded in her ears. Hunter had obviously replayed the scene in Fredericksburg over in his mind and was not satisfied with the end result. “Who … who can know? He was in a great deal of pain. Perhaps he did not know what he was saying.”
“Yes, indeed,” Hunter said, as he turned his head and stared at her. “Who can know?”
Andrea looked away and did not speak. She could not. The man beside her was back to that hostile, aloof composure that concealed his every thought. A more overbearing and intimidating man she had never encountered.
“You still haven’t told me how you met him.”
Andrea tried to hold her hands steady. She vaguely remembered Daniel telling her he had spent some time in Richmond. “I met Daniel here … in Richmond a few years ago,” she said. “I went to school here. And then when I decided to come South, I—”
“Used him,” Hunter answered disdainfully.
Andrea’s breath caught in her throat, and both of her hands turned to fists. She did not speak for fear of saying something she would regret. It seemed to her the horse moved in slow motion, else the street grew longer, or time stood still. Out of boredom from the lack of conversation, her gaze drifted over to Hunter’s strong hands as they expertly held the reins, then to his well-muscled forearms disappearing into coat sleeves. She shuddered at the power they conveyed and looked away.
“Are you chilled, Miss Marlow?”
Expecting to see a look of mockery when she glanced up at his face, Andrea was surprised to find that ridicule was apparently not his intent. He appeared honestly concerned, his gray eyes soft and sympathetic.
“No, I’m … I’m fine.” Andrea stuttered the words, wondering why his considerate side caused her heart to beat more tumultuously than his callous one had.
The two rode in silence for what seemed like hours to Andrea, though it was but the distance of two blocks.
“This is it, is it not?” Hunter pointed with his eyes and turned toward the side of the street.
Andrea nodded but did not bother to respond nor ask how he knew. Instead, she practically leaped from her seat before he even pulled the horse to a halt.
“Perhaps we can have a more lengthy discussion in the future, Miss Marlow.” He leaned over and placed his hand on her arm before she could fully make her escape. “I’m in town a few days.”
“The ride was quite lovely.” Andrea averted her eyes, not wanting him to see the fear she knew must be reflected there. “I thank you for the escort.”
“Are you trying to change the subject, Miss Marlow?”
“Does it seem like I am?” His reaction was as she predicted. He scowled and shook his head, then flicked the reins on the horse’s back and drove away.
Andrea’s smile faded as she turned toward the house. She had to leave Richmond!
And soon!
Chapter 18
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”
– Sir Walter Scott
Captain Hunter cursed without looking up from the map he studied when Private Malone knocked and stuck his head in the door.
“Sorry, sir, but you said you wanted to see anyone the pickets stopped from now on.”
“What do you have?” Hunter snapped from behind his desk.
“Just a young boy traveling alone. Says he’s lost, what with the weather. We can send him on his way if you like.”
Hunter felt inclined to do just that. A soupy mix of fog had moved in, making it impossible to see three feet in any direction. An interrogation would likely not be worth the interruption. “Where did he say he was heading?”
“Uh, he didn’t quite say.” Malone paused as if gauging Hunter’s reaction. “He wants to know by what authority we halted and questioned him. Says he shouldn’t need a pass nor answer to people while traveling in his own country.”
“Is that so?” Hunter looked up for the first time. “Well, I would be delighted, and indeed it is
my duty, to enlighten him that he is traveling in my country now. By all means, send him up.”
By the time word passed down to the pickets, more than a few minutes had passed. Hunter resumed reading a captured dispatch, comparing its contents to former notations he had placed on a map.
Malone brought the boy in, saluted, and made a hasty retreat. Hunter did not realize another person was in the room until he looked up from his communication and saw the youth staring at a large map on the wall. When their eyes finally met, the moment of recognition was simultaneous. The boy looked instantly down, and Hunter let out an oath.
Hunter continued to stare at the figure, blinking as he tried to allow his brain to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. There could be no mistake. The youth looked identical to the one he had seen from across the stream almost a year earlier. But now he was close enough to recognize the green, almond-shaped eyes and feminine lips, the same ones he had last seen just three months ago in Richmond.
“So.” He stood up and crossed his arms, glowering at her. She remained stoically still, looking him squarely in the eyes, doing a good job of not betraying the terror he sensed she felt. Hunter walked around her slowly, trying to figure out how this supposed Southern aristocrat had fooled him and so many others. “It appears I finally have the opportunity to meet the war’s most famous gadfly.”
“I was under the assumption that honor belonged to you.”
Hunter looked at her severely for a moment, then continued, his voice losing its casual tone. “Where are you going ? What is your business here?”
“I am going—” Hunter watched her eyes flick up to his and then to the floor. He could tell she had been considering telling an outright lie and thought better of it. “I’m going to visit my cousin north of here.”
“Dressed as a boy?”
She shrugged and met his stare with a corresponding look of defiance. “I’ve grown tired of Richmond. And I … I have no escort.”
“You have no escort, so you dressed as a boy,” Hunter rubbed his chin. “I don’t believe that’s an option most women would choose.”
Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia Page 14