Andrea, who had been helping load men into wagons that had come with the reinforcements, caught a horse, and with great difficulty in the excitement, mounted. She tried to find Carter again, but could not in the rush. All around her were battered, yet living, men. Almost all suffered a wound of one kind or another, but she knew few had been killed outright.
Glancing back at the far riverbank, which was now filled with blue, Andrea watched the fresh troops move forward, ready to shell anyone who ventured any closer than the northern bank. She swept her eyes over the faces of those around her, searching desperately for Alex or any sign of his fate, as a vague uneasiness began to gnaw at her spine.
Dripping wet and stiff with cold, Andrea blew on her fingers to keep them warm in the cool evening air. The only sounds now were that of distant and sporadic gunfire to the rear, the men being either too exhausted or too injured to speak. Someone apparently noticed her shivering and dropped a coat over her shoulders. Too exhausted to turn and see who it was, Andrea slipped her arms into the garment, thankful for the warmth.
Dozing in her saddle as the horses walked single file down a narrow path, Andrea awoke when the rider in front of her struck a match. For just a moment in that flash of light, she saw the color of the coat she now wore. Odd, it was lined in scarlet, just like the one Alex often wore. Trying to suppress the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, Andrea reached up and ran her fingers across the collar. Three stars. She pulled the coat more tightly around her, reveling in the comfort it provided both to her body and her soul.
But when she did, her hand passed over a damp spot, and then a large hole in the fabric. She stifled a scream. The sickening realization hit her with such force that she unknowingly spurred her horse forward, causing it to run into the next horse and creating a general bunch-up and swearing match ahead.
Andrea looked frantically around for Carter just as the road opened up on both sides. The men fanned out into a field to rest their mounts as Andrea rode up the line, searching the faces for someone she knew. She spotted Carter in a circle of men, but when he saw her approaching, he put his hand in the air to stop the conversation. With a nod, he gestured for Andrea to follow him into the woods.
“He’s still alive,” Carter said, turning his horse to face hers. “Or he was when I saw him.”
Andrea stared at him in stunned silence, her trembling lips the only sign she had heard him. “But where is he? I need to see him.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Carter shifted his gaze away from her. “We got Yanks crawling everywhere. They know he’s been wounded. They’re looking for him.”
Andrea kicked her horse and moved him to within inches of Carter’s mount. She leaned over and looked straight into his eyes. “Where is he?”
He shrugged and looked down. “It’s the Colonel’s orders. No one is to know where he is, or go there, in case … you know, they’re being followed.”
Andrea tried to suppress her tongue, but her emotions got the best of her. She unleashed a cavalcade of curses, pointing out that Major Carter was no judge of whether or not she could successfully evade the enemy, followed by the general proclamation that he had no right, jurisdiction, or authority to stop her. “I’ll not remain in suspense as to his fate,” Andrea said defiantly.
“He’d have me court-martialed if I told you.”
“He’d do no such thing,” Andrea shot back.
Carter squinted and rubbed his chin, but still hesitated.
“Have it your way, Major Carter.” Andrea picked up her reins. “It would be easier to dodge the enemy if I knew where I was going. But I will find him with or without you.”
A low rumble of angry thunder growled in the distance, sounding heavy and threatening. Andrea glanced toward the sky where lightening stabbed the horizon to the west.
Carter followed her gaze, then looked at her long and hard. “They took him to a farm about a mile due south. Whether he’s been moved—”
Before he could finish the sentence, she had disappeared.
“I hope to God you have a pass to get through our men,” he said to nothing but the night.
Chapter 66
“Honor has caused more deaths than the plague.”
– Julian Pitt Rivers
“At ease, men.” Andrea spoke in the lowest voice she could muster as three heavily armed soldiers stepped in front of her horse. “I’m here to see Colonel Hunter.”
The click of another half dozen guns being cocked at close range was the reply that greeted her.
“Dismount or we’ll shoot,” a threatening voice in the darkness drawled.
“I’m here to see the Colonel,” Andrea said again.
“We heer’d what you said.” The man nearest her horse grabbed the reins. “And if you don’t soon hear what I said, you ain’t gonna live long enough to tell about it.”
Andrea dismounted at gunpoint, while another man helped himself to her horse. Since none of the men surrounding her appeared to be in particularly amiable frames of mind, she did not dispute their authority. “I have a pass,” she said, suddenly remembering the one Alex had given her. “I’m here to see the Colonel.”
“Shur you is. Too bad the Kulnel ain’t heah.”
“I know he’s here, and he will see me if you’ll just tell him I’ve arrived.”
“Zat so?” The soldier sounded skeptical. “Little young to be out after dark, ain’t ya?”
The soldier nearest her then yelled to someone in the darkness. Andrea felt the cold metal of a Colt pushing into her back, which she suspected meant that someone wanted her to move forward. “Now walk real slow, boy soldier. Don’t do nothing stupid.” The man pushed her in the opposite direction of the farmhouse she had hoped to find Hunter, instead moving her toward a barn.
“No!” Andrea stopped. “You don’t understand. I need to see the Colonel!”
“It’s you that don’t understand. You ain’t getting nowhere near the Kulnel—if he was heah—which I ain’t sayin’ he is. You can show your pass to the officer in charge.”
“But I must see him.” Andrea stopped again and turned so abruptly that the gun caught her in the ribs and almost knocked the wind out of her.
At the same time, another man came up from behind her and grabbed her arm. His iron grip held her with one hand, while his other continued pointing his gun at her head. Andrea kicked and struggled but to no avail. The man did not even flinch as he continued dragging her toward the barn.
“At ease men,” a deep voice drawled from out of the darkness.
“You know this kid?” one of the men asked the solitary soldier on horseback who rode out of the shadows by the barn. “Says he’s here to see the Kulnel.”
Captain Pierce leaned forward in his saddle and squinted, either deciding if he did or not—or deciding if he wanted to say or not. “Yea. Let him go,” he said gruffly. “He’s the kid from earlier today.”
Nursing an injury of his own, he dismounted, then grabbed Andrea none too gently by the arm and turned her face toward a lantern. He wore a perplexed look on his countenance. “How’d you get here? An owl couldn’t find that road in the dark.”
“I have a duty to perform,” was all she said in response.
“Follow me.” Pierce began walking, or rather limping, toward a small outbuilding around which a number of men were standing. “Who sent for you?” he asked over his shoulder. “Why didn’t they send an escort with you? These men were ordered—by me—to shoot anything that moves.”
“Major Carter told me where to find the Colonel.” Andrea thought it best not to lie to him. He seemed to be highly agitated.
“What for?” he barked. “No one can see him.”
Andrea noticed Pierce’s limping grew steadily worse, and that a shirtsleeve, dripping scarlet, had been tied around a serious wound to his thigh. From the amount of blood flowing forth, it appeared a bullet had plowed clean to the bone, causing her to wonder why he was still walking on it. With her thoughts an
d eyes focused on the trail of blood spilling in her path, she ran straight into him when his massive form stopped and whirled around. “It’s you!”
Andrea’s breath caught in her throat. She did not respond. If he had figured out who she was, he needed no further information from her. If he had not, she was not going to help him. Anyway, what had he figured out? That she was Andrea Evans? Or that Andrea Evans was a long-sought enemy? It did not take her long to find out.
It was both.
“Your expertise on a horse is conspicuous,” Pierce said, his voice now cold and cruel. “One might even say—memorable.”
Andrea stood before him, looking at the ground, trying to appear confidant and calm beneath his inscrutable gaze. In her mind she was neither.
Glancing at the house, she saw it was but fifteen yards away. Yet the officer in command stood between her and the door, and it looked like the ruthless reputation of which she had been warned was going to make an appearance tonight. From the look on Pierce’s face, and from the stance of the sentries posted on the porch, Andrea knew permission had been granted to fire first and ask questions later.
“Almost as memorable as your eyes.” He leaned down closer. “You had to have known I would recognize those bloody, bewitching eyes.”
For the first time, Andrea looked up and met his gaze, an action that seemed to infuriate him greatly. He twisted her arm behind her back with savage strength, shoved her face against the side of the small building, and placed his revolver against her head. Andrea heard the familiar click of the hammer being pulled and felt the cold steel press directly behind her ear.
“What are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth. “I know who you are.”
Andrea would have answered if she could have drawn a breath. Pierce leaned against her so heavily and bent her arm so far back that she feared she would pass out from the effect of one or the pain of the other.
“Do you take me for a fool?” he growled. “Believe me, I remember well the blasted rider on the black horse. The resemblance you share is uncanny. I watched you all day.”
Pierce shifted his weight and Andrea grabbed one quick breath before he leaned into her again.
“It all makes sense now. What better place for a spy to lodge than with the Colonel? He may have fallen for your treachery, but I have not.”
Andrea felt the steel of the gun press more firmly against her neck and had no doubt she would be black and blue as a result.
“Are you alone?”
The most she could do was nod her head.
“Captain?”
“What is it?” Pierce sounded exasperated at the intrusion.
“Sorry, sir, I don’t mean to interrupt whatever is going on, but this here boy did save your life today.”
Andrea closed her eyes tighter.
“What are you talking about?”
“That sharpshooter you shot on the river bank,” Boz said. “You didn’t kill him right off. He had you dead in his sights.”
Andrea felt Pierce pull off just a little and she grabbed another breath.
“I seen it with my own two eyes,” Boz added for emphasis.
“That true?” Pierce apparently felt her struggling for air and slammed her head against the wall again.
Andrea remained silent, too proud to defend her life based on the fact that she had saved his.
“That true?” He spun her around and stuck his gun none to gently under her chin to lift her head. Andrea found herself gazing into the eyes of a soldier with whom she knew there would be no trifling. Pierce seemed overly eager to dispatch her to the place from which she had saved him.
“Will you not take the word of one of your men?” Andrea’s voice was hoarse, and she gasped for breath. The top of her head began to throb, while the left side of her face was nothing but numb.
“Show me your weapon,” Pierce said, as if that would prove the case once and for all.
“He throwed it in the river, right after,” Boz answered for her. “That ain’t all he throwed,” he added under his breath.
Pierce accepted that with a grin, understood without further explanation the torment the action had caused her. “Killed one of your own for me, did you?”
Andrea closed her eyes and swallowed hard to keep from gagging again. Her legs began to shake at the thought, and she knew Pierce was standing close enough to feel it.
He let the hammer of his gun back slowly. “This is a little ironic, is it not?” He laughed. “You save my life, and I threaten to take yours.”
“Quite a good joke,” Andrea said, her voice shaky and gravelly.
Pierce fell silent, obviously contemplating what to do with her.
“I heard you have a way with the ladies,” Andrea said, opening and closing her jaw to make sure it still worked. “But until now did not know the extent.”
“In your present attire you are somewhat hard to conceive as a lady,” Pierce answered defensively. “My reaction was based purely on beholding a spy in our midst. You cannot blame me for trying to protect the Colonel.”
Andrea did not know if his words were meant as an apology and did not really care. The skies had finally opened up, soaking her hat and dripping off her lashes. Pierce seemed to take no notice of the drenching, and was, she decided, not even conscious of it.
“Why are you here?” He looked away to return his gun to its holster.
“My heart demands it.”
Pierce looked up slowly, as if all the other parts of the puzzle were now falling into place. His gaze drifted down to the oversized coat she wore. He reached out and roughly fixed the collar she had turned under, making the three stars visible once again.
“I see.”
Andrea thought she saw a hint of regret flash across his eyes.
The rain started coming down even more furiously, which finally brought it to his attention. Without a word he grabbed Andrea by the arm, and led her past three sentries to the shelter of the farmhouse’s back porch. He stopped again. “You believe he will wish to see you?” He did not try to hide the disgust in his voice.
“He will.”
“It is folly to fall in love with the enemy. I would think one of you would have more sense.” He looked at her in such a way that Andrea knew he was inferring he expected more self-restraint from his leader, not from her, though whether because she was a Yankee or a female she could not tell.
“It is folly to look for logic in the chambers of the heart.” Andrea spoke as if it was a lesson she had always known—not learned through months of torturous pain.
Pierce stared at her long and hard with a mixture, she thought, of curiosity and disbelief. “You have forsaken the Union cause for this?”
Andrea looked down, closed her eyes, and exhaled loudly. Hearing the words spoken aloud was a damaging blow. “There are other sacred claims,” she said, her eyes filling with tears in spite of her best efforts to stop them, “that touch as deeply as patriotism.”
Pierce’s gaze locked on hers again. Perhaps he saw the devotion shining there for the Colonel. Perhaps he thought of the peril and the sacrifice she had made in getting there. Or perhaps he thought of the bullet from which his life had been spared. In any event, he reached toward her cheek with the back of his hand, an impulse that appeared to be partly of pity and partly of apology.
“I hope I did not hurt you overly much,” he said. “I do apologize.”
Andrea reacted by wincing at the nearness of his strong hand, causing him to withdraw and drop it dejectedly to his side.
“Wait here,” he ordered. “I need to speak to the doctor.”
After counting to ten, Andrea let herself in, just as a burst of thunder shook the house, covering the sound of the creaking door. She heard muffled voices in a room to her left and noticed stairs off to her right. Taking them two at a time, she saw an open bedroom door and entered, ignoring Pierce’s orders from downstairs to halt.
Hunter lay in a bed, seemingly asleep, yet so pal
e Andrea barely recognized him as living. Approaching slowly, fearing she was too late, she tentatively put her hand on his forehead. The soldier who had appeared just hours earlier the essence of magnificent manhood and muscle, now appeared drained of all vitality. She gazed at a life hanging by a thread.
Feeling her touch, he opened his eyes. Andrea watched him try to focus, his gaze moving from her face, down to the stars on her collar. “Howdy, Kulnel,” he said hoarsely.
Andrea smiled in relief, and knelt beside him. “It appears I’ve received a promotion.”
“Well deserved,” he said closing his eyes.
Andrea held his hand in both of hers. “I yield, sir, to your wisdom and authority,” she whispered, leaning near him. “And accept any orders you are inclined to give.”
“Stay …with me …Andrea.”
“I’ll never leave you, Alex.” She threw her arm across his chest. “Never, never again!”
Kissing his forehead and then his cheek, Andrea stared at his strained face. “Alex, how do you feel?”
He was quiet for a long moment, as if trying to find the energy to speak. “Like I’ve been . . . humbled.” He winced and then opened his eyes. “You look like—” He paused and licked his lips. “Hell.”
Andrea brought her hand up to her face and felt the puffiness in her cheek where it had been rammed against the building. “Just a little disagreement.” She glanced up at Pierce, who now stood in the doorway, thinking Hunter’s eyes were still closed.
But they were not. When he followed her gaze, his hands curled into fists. “It is nothing,” Andrea said, looking back down and seeing she had alarmed him. “The vigilance of your men and the security of your camp are commendable.”
Alex let out a long, deep sigh as if agitated he could not come to her defense, could not move, could not find the strength to keep his eyes open. He gazed vacantly at the ceiling with livid lips and contorted features as a wave of pain overcame him. And then his eyes glazed over with agony.
Andrea could see strength was failing him, and so could the doctor, who walked briskly to the bed. “That’s enough. He needs rest.”
Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia Page 50