Andrea wrinkled her brow in confusion at the secret code talk, then leaned over and kissed her bridegroom. She had intended it to be a quick peck, but he had other intentions.
“Such goings on’s as this my eyes ain’t meant to be seed,” Mattie said, ushering the two other servants out the door with her eyes closed.
“All right,” Andrea said as she tried to push him away. “You’ve succeeded in chasing everyone away. Now tell me what you have up your sleeve.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?” Andrea started to stand, glancing toward the balcony.
“Hold on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “It’s your wedding present.”
“My wedding present? But I haven’t anything for you.”
“If you will come here—” He pulled her back to the bed.
“You are insufferable, Colonel Hunter.” Andrea pretended to be offended. She sat down beside him and spoke in a serious tone. “You need not treat me like a princess, Alex. All I need is this.” She put her hand on his heart.
Alex took a deep breath and his eyes instantly moistened. “Oh, Andrea, my love,” he said, kissing her hand tenderly. “That is yours. Above all else, I give my heart—and my soul—to you for all time.” He gazed down at her right hand then, at the other ring that to this day she had not removed.
Andrea saw the look and her eyes went up to meet his. “I can remove it, if you wish.”
“No, my darling. His memory is part of both of us. It pleases me to see you wear it.”
Andrea’s gaze drifted back to the balcony door.
“Very well,” Alex said, giving in. “I can see you are determined. And I know better than to stand in your way.” He started to heave himself up to a sitting position, but Andrea stopped him with a hand. “Do not push yourself.”
“I am much stronger today,” Alex replied, though he held his side painfully. Andrea pushed pillows behind him, and when he was comfortable, they watched Zach lead a large, black, unruly horse into one of the front paddocks. When he released the horse, it bucked and squealed, then took off at a gallop across the field.
Andrea put her hand over her mouth in amazement at how closely he resembled Justus, then looked down at Alex with tears of happiness in her eyes. “That is my wedding present?”
“He has been declared unsuitable for military service, a little too high strung. I believe he may be a perfect match for you.” In silence, they both watched the horse prance around the pasture for a few moments, then Alex looked over at Andrea. “A paragon of beauty.”
“Indeed he’s simply splendid,” Andrea agreed.
Alex took her hand and pulled her down to him. “Who said I was talking about the horse?”
Andrea’s face blushed at the seductive look in his eye, causing her to turn back toward the field. “I cannot wait to ride him.”
“The creature is very wild,” Alex warned her. “Stubborn and willful.”
“Now are you speaking of the horse or your bride?” She threw her arm around his neck.
“H-m-m. Now that you mention it, I suppose you do share some of the same… qualities,” he replied, doubling his arms around her.
Andrea smiled at his humor, but worried about the strained look upon his face. “I fear you are overexerting yourself. You need to save your strength, or we will not be able to wed.”
Alex laughed. “Trust that will not happen, my dear. We shall be married if I have to say my vows from bed.” He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, but paused when his lips met the moisture there. “What’s wrong?”
Andrea spoke with her head pressed against his chest. “I fear I’m not worthy of the honor of becoming your wife,” she sobbed. “How can I be worthy of a man such as you?”
“My dear Andrea.” Alex tightened his embrace. ““I would not forego the title of your husband for any other earthly one you could bestow!”
Andrea took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him. “Promise you’ll never leave me, Alex,” she whispered. “I could not bear it.”
He grew quiet and she lifted her head.
“I can promise I will not leave willingly,” he said, forcing a smile.
“But if you do, I will follow you wherever you go. I will not leave your side.”
“I may order it.” Alex stroked her face with a wistful smile on his lips.
“Then I shall countermand your order.” Andrea ran her fingers through his wavy hair, delighting in the sensation of touching the man she admired and loved with all her heart.
“I had no idea I had taken such a headstrong woman as a bride.”
“Come now, Colonel.” Andrea looked down at him with mirthful eyes. “Surely I gave an adequate indication of my traits before now.”
“Yes, I suppose you did.” He laid his head back on the pillow with a deep sigh and closed his eyes.
“Would you like me to clean your wound and change your dressing?” Andrea tried to keep the concern from her voice. With his eyes closed, Alex looked pale and strained. She could see he was in much more pain than he pretended to be.
“No, Doc will do it later.” His voice sounded casual and indifferent.
“You do not trust me?” she asked, half-jokingly.
“I trust you, Andrea.” He took her hand and kissed it, though his eyes remained closed. “With my life. Forever.”
She gazed at his countenance intently. “But you wish Doc to do it.”
He turned his head away. “Yes. I wish Doc to do it.”
This time his voice was not so casual and the indifference sounded more like despair.
Chapter 68
“That love which breaks the heart that was whole,
shall join together, and make whole the heart that is broken.”
– Francis Warrenton Dawson to Sarah Morgan Dawson, 1873
Andrea stood in the shadows on the balcony and watched the men riding in, her stomach churning with anxiety. She had never really thought of the prospect of meeting them as the wife of their leader. And now she was not really sure she wanted to.
Even after all had gathered and Alex had been helped downstairs to greet them, she remained in her place of refuge.
“You lost, young lady?” Carter came up behind her. “The Colonel’s beginning to think he’s been stood up by his bride.”
Andrea stared at her feet. “I-I do not know how to face them,” she stuttered, “you know, Major—those I stood against.”
Carter put his hand on her shoulder. “You need not fear them.”
“But they know, do they not?” Andrea whispered the words. “Who I am? Who I was?”
“I believe it is common knowledge among them. But you have fairly won their regard and their esteem. That, and the knowledge their commander admires you is enough for them.”
Andrea looked into his eyes to see if he told the truth. “Come,” he said, holding out his arm. “You’ve been out of your husband’s sight for too long. He will soon grow impatient enough to come looking for you.”
Andrea nodded and allowed herself to be escorted down the stairs. When they entered the dining room doorway, there was a sudden hush, and then three-dozen chairs scooted across the floor as everyone stood.
Andrea’s eyes swept the room. When they at last fell upon the bold gaze of her husband, she found herself blushing like a schoolgirl rather than feeling any apprehension about his men. Dressed in his military finest, he appeared every inch the stalwart, valiant officer he was reputed to be. He nodded with evident deference and respect at her entrance, and she returned the action with a look of fervent devotion.
Carter escorted Andrea to his side, while Alex continued to devour her with his eyes. After bending down and placing a reverential kiss upon her brow, he put his hand gently on the small of her back and turned toward his men. “Gentlemen,” he said, “and you, too, Murdoch—”
The men began to laugh. “Gentlemen, we are gathered here to celebrate my newest promotion
, to a place and title of honor of which I feel I am unworthy—husband. Allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Andrea Hunter.”
The men clapped and raised their glasses in toast to their leader who, for the first time in a long time, wore a wide and contented smile. “And this, gentlemen,” he said, pulling Andrea closer to his side and looking at her for a long moment. “This I would not trade for a thousand victories.”
“To love,” said one, causing glasses to tinkle up and down the long, glittering candlelit table.
Andrea’s heart began to beat at a normal pace while she half-listened to the conversations going on around her. All related to some heroic deed that had been performed by, or had involved in one way or another, her husband. Dropping her eyes to the table, her gaze came to rest on the strong hand that rested upon hers. That hand, she mused, which in time of battle wielded the terrible power of death in but one finger, now wore a band of gold that pledged his life to her.
Alex must have noticed the contemplative look upon her face. He squeezed her hand, leaned over and whispered so only she could hear. “Dear wife, my heart and soul are wrapped around that finger.”
Andrea looked up at him, eyes suffused with a mist she quickly blinked away. It seemed to her incredible, and frankly unbelievable, that a man so strong and powerful as the one who sat beside her should wish to call her by that title.
When all had finished eating and the drinks began to flow, Andrea struck up a conversation with the red-headed boy they called Murdoch, who she sensed had caused his commander more than a little consternation.
“So, Mr. Murdoch, were you on the kidnapping raid?” Andrea asked innocently, referring to Alex’s expedition into the enemy hospital camp to retrieve her.
“You mean the ‘wildcat’ raid. Why almost all of us was involved in that one.”
“Murdoch!” Alex said sternly, overhearing the conversation.
“The wildcat raid?” Andrea gave Alex a sideways glance. “Do tell.”
The man, or rather boy, continued. “The Kulnel said we was gonna go catch a wildcat. Said he needed more than the average number of men, because—”
“Murdoch!” Alex tried again to put a stop to the story as hearty laughter rolled through the room.
“’Cause this wildcat was smarter than most men, more cunning than a fox, and meaner than a—”
“Murdoch!” The men broke out into convulsive laughter.
Andrea pretended to be offended. “Never mind. I do not wish to know anymore.”
“And,” the boy continued, obviously enjoying the spotlight, “the Kulnel said he was going to capture this wildcat, if he had to lose every man and horse in the Command in the process.”
The room grew silent. Andrea stared, unblinking, straight ahead, then looked up into her husband’s eyes. She had known the risk he had taken that day. She had never realized how very much he had been ready to sacrifice.
“I should have known you men would start trouble with my bride,” Alex said, turning back to his guests and trying to make light of the situation.
“It wasn’t us,” one yelled. “It was Murdoch!” Again the group roared.
When next Andrea looked over at Alex, she noticed he held his side, though he still wore a strained smile upon his face.
“It’s been a long evening,” she said standing, “perhaps it’s time for us to call it a day.”
“Yes, my dear, I think you may be right.” Leaning heavily upon her, they walked to the door and bid each guest goodbye one by one. Hunter watched with apparent contentment as Andrea grasped each hand, looked each man in the eye, and repeated each name.
“Your husband knows the roll so well he can call it in his head,” one of the men said. “Perhaps, in time, you can do the same.”
Andrea laughed. “I shall never try to best my husband in the war department.”
“I appreciate the compliment Mrs. Hunter,” Alex said kissing her hand. “But let it not be disputed that you outrank me everywhere but on the battlefield.”
When Andrea got to the last man, she threw her arms around Carter’s neck. She felt him nod in a signal to Alex behind her, while squeezing her with a heartfelt hug. When he released her and she looked at her husband, she could read nothing on his face. Yet she knew the communication had meant something of significance.
Taking Alex’s hand, she turned toward the stairs, dismissing the scene. It was too late to begin trying to decipher the secret language between Alex and his second-in-command, and she was too tired to try.
“Ah, one more minute,” Alex said. “I’ve… asked the men to wait outside. There’s something I need to tell them. I’ll be right up.”
“Are you sure? You look so tired. Do you wish me to wait?”
“No. No.” He waved his hand. “Carter will help me up the stairs. Go on.”
Andrea obeyed, but looked back, confused, when the door closed again. There was something wrong, something she felt now more so than could identify. And when she heard the front door close a half hour later and walked out on the balcony to watch the men ride off, her suspicions were confirmed. Gone was the festive attitude of just an hour before. There was no joking, not even any talking. Although she waved cheerfully at those passing beneath her, they seemed intent on avoiding her gaze. Some nodded sadly in her direction, while others stared straight ahead as they rode silently toward the bridge and into the night. Every countenance reflected a calamity that thus far she had no knowledge.
Andrea pushed away any thoughts of foreboding. The night had been too magical, her life too wonderful, her future too incredible to worry about such mysteries now.
Chapter 69
“O! you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
and snatch them straight away?”
– Pericles, Shakespeare
Andrea continued to stand on the balcony and breathe in the cool evening air, even after hearing Alex talking in hushed tones in the room behind her. Shrugging away the shadow of apprehension that continued to pursue her, she concluded the men were just tired. Now that she thought about it, so was she.
Opening the door quietly in case Alex was already resting, she overheard him talking to Doc—not Carter—his voice solemn and low. “I will tell her.”
“I do not envy you the job,” Hobbs said, leaning over her husband. “But it must be done tonight.”
It was his grave tone that gave Andrea the first tremor of warning and evoked the first faint stir of fear. “What must be done tonight?” she asked, forcing a smile.
Her smile faded when she took in the somber expression of the one and the sad countenance of the other. She found no answers in their eyes, but each face conveyed obvious shock and grave concern.
“Mrs. Hunter,” Hobbs said, bowing, his gaze never meeting hers. “I . . . I was just leaving.”
Andrea began to feel terror climb up her spine. “What is wrong?” she asked with forced calmness, looking from one to the other, trying to control her inner panic.
Alex lay propped on the pillows with closed eyes. He appeared to have aged since she had last seen him, grown older by years in the past hour. He opened his eyes and motioned for her.
“Come, talk to me.” He patted the empty space on the bed.
Andrea watched Hobbs retreat from the room, and she sat down beside him.
“We’ve been married less than two days,” he said taking her hand, “and already I’ve made my first mistake as a husband.”
Andrea could tell he was trying overly hard to sound unconcerned. “Whatever you’ve done, dear husband, I shall forgive you.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. The thought flashed through her mind that he felt warm, but she dismissed it.
Alex drew a deep breath and Andrea waited for him to speak. “I… haven’t been entirely honest with you.” His voice was low and weak, and it frightened her. “I did not want to concern you, at first, but now—”
One look at his face told Andrea this was not something she wished to hea
r. She closed her eyes, wishing that would make everything go back to the way it was before they started having this conversation. “Whatever it is, it matters not,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “You can tell me when we’re old and sitting on the front porch on our rocking chairs with our grandchildren.”
Alex closed his eyes and seemed to grow even sadder at her pronouncement. He cleared his throat and spoke with apparent difficulty. “I’m afraid the matter will not wait that long.”
Andrea let out her breath. With little warning, the anxiety within in her gave way to a helpless, unreasoning panic that fluttered and struggled and strained in her heart like the beating wings of a caged bird. Trying to hide her alarm, she squeezed his hand. “Proceed.” She closed her eyes again as if that would somehow help.
“My wound is a little more serious than what first we thought.” Alex spoke in a hushed tone like he was in church.
Andrea’s eyes flew open to meet his. “What are you saying?”
“Doc believes,” he paused, took a breath, and began again. “Doc believes I have an infection.”
Andrea sat and stared at his mouth, unblinking. She knew very well what he meant, had seen it over and over at the hospital. Soldiers would linger in agony for days, weeks, longer. But they rarely survived. Although her heart refused to believe what he was telling her, a part of her knew the truth.
Her husband was dying.
The tall, stalwart, uncompromising officer, who was aggressive and relentless and unyielding, was to be snatched from her by something she could not even see. Like a mighty warrior, the infection would stalk him, overtaking him no matter how hard he fought. Andrea moved her hand to the bandage under the covers. She felt the warmth of his fever pulsing against her fingers. Her eyes grew moist as she consumed the information. Then the defiance began to mount. “We will fight it,” she said, looking into his eyes boldly.
“I am fighting, but Doc does not believe—” His voice lowered to a whisper. “He does not believe I can win.”
Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia Page 52