Chapter Nine
The next morning, Jeffrey woke early. The sun was no more than the hint of a glow peeking over the horizon. Only two sentries stood guard around the yard.
Jeffrey stood on the porch, Romeo hunched at his feet, and watched as three deer nibbled the tender grass at the edge of the pond. He sipped steaming hot coffee.
Tendrils of mist drifted from the water, in a transition from the cool night air to the warmer air of day.
Jeffrey was content. He and Claire had kissed for hours.
And he had fallen even more in love with her.
He thought about Claire asleep in her bed. If only he could go to her as he longed to do.
He would take her from here. From this war. Take her to Chene Ruelle – his family home, untouched by the war. Claire and his sister Alexandra were about the same size. She could share her dresses with Claire. Grand-père would adore her.
There was no need to wait to be married. They were of age and the war changed all the old customs that required them to wait for so long.
Speaking of war, he had some explaining to do. Claire thought he was from the North—a Yankee.
And indeed, he had thought himself a Yankee, for a time.
But now, he understood. Now he knew he could never raise a hand to the South. It was hard enough when he had Grand-père and Alexandra to think of. But with Claire. He wanted to make a home with her. And her home was here—in the South.
Before Claire, he couldn’t fathom life after the war. Now he could. Now he wanted to start a life—a normal life with her. And that life had to be in the South.
Sipping his coffee, he sat on the rocker with his feet propped on the porch railing, scratched Romeo’s ears, and watched the world wake up.
One of the soldiers waved as he made his way to the well with a bucket. Another soldier kindled a fire to start breakfast.
The mist on the pond rose and three ducks flew in and began swimming around in the water.
Gramps stuck his head out the door. “Morning.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” Jeffrey said. For this instant, he could pretend that everything was normal.
Gramps agreed and went back inside to reheat the coffee water.
Colonel Bonaire stomped through the house and let himself out the front door without speaking. It appeared he hadn’t forgiven them for last night.
Jeffrey sat up, his feet slipping off the railing and landing on the porch with a crash at the sound of a volley of gunfire off to the left just on the other side of the pond. It was close enough that he saw gun smoke entwine with the mist off the pond.
By the time he got his bearings, a second volley answered the first.
Thunderation!
Gramps appeared back at the door as the soldiers who were able got up on their feet. “We’re too late,” he said.
“We need to go now,” Jeffrey said.
Jeremiah appeared on the porch. “Where’s Claire?” he asked.
“Not up yet,” Gramps said.
“I’ll get her,” Jeffrey said, dashing into the house. He called her name as he rounded the corner into her room.
“Claire!” he called again.
“No,” she said, covering her head with the blanket.
“You have to get up,” Jeffrey said, moving closer to her bed.
“Go away,” she said, her voice muffled.
“Very well,” Jeffrey murmured. “I thought I’d have to work to get you into bed, not to get you out.” He reached down and picked her up, blankets and all.
“What the?” Claire’s eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”
“We have to get out of here.”
“I’m not dressed,” she insisted.
Glancing around, he located her trunk, threw it open, and pulled out a blue gown. “Put this on,” he demanded. “And be quick.”
“Is there a fire?” she asked, but was standing up now, focusing on him.
“Yankees,” he said, turning his back to her.
She shrugged out of her nightgown and put on the blue dress.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Shoes,” she said, glancing around the room, pushing the hair out of her face.
Her shoes were scattered near the door. She must have stepped out of them last night and left them. Interesting for one so tidy and organized. He couldn’t help but smile. She’d had a similar effect on him as well.
“Gramps?” she asked, grabbing a book off her nightstand.
“Waiting for us.”
The gunfire was closer now. Jeffrey looked out the window to see soldiers in gray moving along the tree line not far from the house.
Then the sound he’d been dreading shattered the air. A cannon fired. It sounded as though it was about to land on their heads within seconds.
Claire put her hands over her head and closed her eyes.
Jeffrey took her hand. “We’re safe,” he said, pulling her from the room.
The cannonball landed several feet from the house, sending up a volley of dirt.
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
By the time they reached the front door, Jeremiah had appeared sitting atop a wagon pulled by one emaciated horse. No one questioned how he had managed to take the army’s horse and wagon, or how he knew they would be leaving.
The soldiers were moving closer. Now the Yankees with their blue uniforms were visible on the far side of the clearing.
Another cannon ball headed in their direction as Jeffrey lifted Claire into the wagon and Gramps jumped in the back.
Again, Claire covered her head.
The cannonball landed at the edge of the house, shattering one side of the front porch where Jeffrey had sat with his morning coffee just minutes before.
“Wait,” Claire called.
Jeffrey glanced around. “I don’t know where Romeo is,” he said.
“No, we have to go back inside the house.”
“I’ll see if he’s inside,” Jeffrey said, turning to go back inside to look for the dog.
He found Romeo in the kitchen, wedged between the stove and the wall. Jeffrey bent down and picked him up, groaning under the weight of the dog.
“At least you didn’t run off,” he told the dog. “I thought I was gonna have to go out to the woods and find you.”
As he hefted Romeo up into the wagon, he realized Claire had gotten off the wagon and was headed back inside the house.
“Claire,” he called, running after her. “There’s no time.” As she headed toward the parlor, he put his arms around her waist, stopping her. She struggled, but stood dead still at the sound of another cannon ball whining over their heads.
It crashed into the back of the house. “Now there’s a fire,” he said, picking her up.
They made it back as far as the kitchen before he realized there were two Yankee soldiers blocking his path.
Jeffrey stood her slowly on her feet and nudged her behind him. She gasped when she saw the men standing in her house pointing rifles at them. Jeffrey raised his arms. “We’re not armed,” he said.
“Come outside peacefully,” one of the soldiers ordered.
The soldiers stood aside to let them pass. Gramps and Jeremiah also had guns pointed at them and the wagon was surrounded by half a dozen soldiers. Jeffrey and Claire were ushered toward the wagon.
“We’re too late,” Gramps said.
“So it seems,” Jeffrey said.
Claire hadn’t said a word since he’d stopped her from wherever it was she was headed. He still held her hand, however, and capturing her gaze, attempted to reassure her. “It’ll be all right,” he said.
“How?” she asked.
“They won’t harm us.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied.
“Get in the wagon,” one of the soldiers demanded.
Jeffrey picked her up again and placed her on the back of the wagon and jumped in after her.
Jeffrey scanned the yard
. He saw one officer on horseback turned away from them, and other Yankees on foot with pistols and muskets. The rag-tag soldiers protecting the sick and injured had been no match for the well-armed Yankees. Jeffrey’s stomach recoiled at the sight of soldiers in blue harassing injured boys in gray.
What had he been thinking? These Southerners were his people. How had his loyalties gotten so misguided? His urge was to help them. But at the moment he had no weapon and he had no choice but to wait there. Besides, he could protect Claire if he stayed near her.
Claire leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Do you know these men?”
“What? No,” he answered, regretting now not telling her the truth already.
“What will they do with us?”
“I don’t know,” he said, automatically, then after glancing at her ashen face added, “They won’t hurt us.”
“Why have they singled us out?” she asked.
Why had they? Jeffrey glanced at the breeches and shirt he wore. He was not in uniform—of any color. “We’re civilians,” he said.
“Major Perkins,” a young solder said, coming to stand next to the one on horseback.
“Yes, Bobby?”
“We have the men subdued.”
Jeffrey bit his tongue. Subdued? The men they had subdued were injured and sick. Not a major feat.
“Good job,” Major Perkins said. “Climb up and we’ll be on our way.”
“Very well, sir,” Bobby said, and climbed onto the driver’s seat of the wagon.
“Where are you taking us?” Gramps asked.
Major Perkins turned and for the first time seemed to see them.
“To prison, old man,” he answered, and turned his back to the wagon.
Chapter Ten
Claire gasped. Prison! “We can’t go to prison,” she said aloud, then turned and grabbed Jeffrey’s arm. “Jeffrey, we can’t go to prison.”
He pulled her to him, but she pulled away, panic knotted in her throat. “Gramps, how can they take us to prison? We aren’t soldiers!”
Gramps shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What do we do?”
Jeffrey took her hands and held them tightly. “Look at me,” he said.
She turned her attention to his face, took a breath, and focused. She nodded. “What do we do?” she asked, this time with control.
“We stay together,” he said simply. “We stay together and we’ll figure a way out.”
She nodded again. “All right.”
She fell against him as the wagon started to move. A crash sounded behind them. Romeo woofed and looked as though he might bolt from the wagon.
Claire put a hand on his neck. “Hush boy, it’s alright.” Romeo sat back down and put his paws over his head.
Something caught Claire’s attention behind them and she turned.
Flames shot from the front window. As she watched, the flames took hold and began to devour the house. Jeffrey pulled her against him, her back to his chest, and held her close.
She was transfixed by the flames, watching as though the house belonged to someone else.
She glanced at Gramps. He, too, watched the flames, his expression blank. What would this do to him? He lived in that house since he and Granny got married and that must have been at least thirty years ago. All his possessions and all his memories were wrapped up in that house.
“Gramps?” she called.
He didn’t answer.
“He’ll be all right,” Jeffrey said into her ear, then he kissed her cheek.
“It isn’t right,” she said.
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed.
“Did you ever do that?” she asked.
“Did I ever do what?”
“Did you ever burn down someone’s home?”
He lowered his forehead to the back of her head. “No, Claire, I never burned down anyone’s home and I never would.”
As they traveled down the bumpy road, she watched the flames devour what was left of her home. She watched until they rounded a bend in the road and she could see only the black smoke billowing into the sky. She could smell it now—the charred property.
Lowering her head, she saw the one possession she had left—Jane Eyre. She bent forward enough to retrieve the book and held it to her chest as she settled back in Jeffrey’s arms.
“I’m so sorry, Claire,” he said.
She closed her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“I’m glad I’m here, too. I won’t leave you,” he assured her, pulling her closer.
They rode in silence for at least a couple of hours. Jeffrey holding Claire, Gramps staring into space, Jeremiah watching the soldiers and petting Romeo. Bobby driving the wagon, and Major Perkins riding alongside. Two other soldiers had accompanied them, but they had ridden ahead.
The sun warmed the air as mid-morning approached. Claire’s eyes grew heavy and she drifted into a fitful sleep.
The wagon rolled over a root and she was jarred awake. At first she didn’t know where she was. Why was she in a wagon? Then her eyes landed on Gramps’ blank face and it all came back to her in a rush. Their house was burned to the ground and they were prisoners of war.
It was then that it occurred to her. They were prisoners because they had aided and abetted Confederate soldiers. Of course. It all made sense.
She sighed. There was no going back. She wouldn’t do it any differently—except perhaps for the part that involved Colonel Bonaire. Where had he gotten off to anyway? She hadn’t seen him the entire morning. She twisted to see if Jeffrey was awake.
“Are you all right?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“Yes. Jeffrey?” she asked. “Did you see Colonel Bonaire?”
“I saw him first thing this morning before the attack. But not since then.”
“That seems a little odd,” she said. “You’d think he’d be the prisoner since he was the one in charge.”
“I agree,” Jeffrey said.
“I guess he’s one less thing we have to worry about now.”
“We have enough worries as it is,” Gramps said, jumping into their conversion.
“Gramps!” Claire said. “Are you all right?”
Gramps nodded and lowered his head. “I will be,” he said.
They rode in silence. What could she say to him? Besides, she’d lost her home too. They only home she’d ever known.
Major Perkins reined his horse alongside the wagon and addressed Bobby. “We’ll stop here for dinner,” he said.
Bobby stopped the wagon. Dinner? What would they eat?
Claire, Jeffrey, Gramps, and Jeremiah climbed out the wagon. Jeremiah lifted out Romeo who instantly took care of his business. When Claire stepped over the side, Jeffrey stood there to grab her by the waist and lift her down. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze and for a brief moment, they were alone. As he smiled at her, her world brightened. Even as a prisoner in this insane war, she was with him. Gramps was safe. And they were all together.
Major Perkins rode ahead as Bobby pulled a haversack from the front of the wagon. He took out several pieces of… something which he distributed to everyone.
Claire turned what looked to be piece of petrified biscuit in her hand. It was about three inches long and half an inch thick. “What is this,” she whispered to Jeffrey.
“It’s hardtack.”
“What do we do with it?”
“You eat it.”
She sniffed it, but it had no scent. “Seriously?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, putting his to his lips.
Claire bit her hardtack. It was like biting into a rock. “How?” she asked.
“You have to let it sort of melt in your mouth first.”
“You know,” she said, “this is disgusting.”
He shrugged. “It’s a lot better than what some of the Southerners are eating.”
Bobby sent around a canteen. “If anyone needs to use the outhouse,” he announced, “now is th
e time to do it.”
Claire rolled her eyes. Outhouse? Jeffrey held out his hand. “I’ll hold that for you.”
“Can’t wait to get it back,” she said, picking up her skirts and heading toward the trees.
We’ll get out of this, she repeated to herself as she searched for a secluded spot. It occurred to her that if she were alone in this predicament, this would be an opportune time to run. It would be a little more difficult for all of them to run unnoticed, but if they had a weapon, they could escape.
Minutes later, she joined her group as each took his turn in the trees.
Claire’s mind whirled as she sucked on the hardtack, finally getting a small enough bite broken off to chew.
Once they were back in the wagon, she sat next to Gramps. “Are you feeling ok?” she asked.
“I feel fine,” he said. “It’s not quite how I expected to spend my day, but it beats lying in the bed with sickness.”
Claire agreed. Not sure what else to say to him, she went back to Jeffrey. By now, it was beginning to feel natural for his arms to slip around her.
“We can escape,” she whispered in his ear.
“How do you propose that?”
“There are only two of them—actually only one right now, and there are four of us.”
“Jeremiah’s a boy, Gramps is an old man, I’m recovering from several gunshot wounds, and you’re a woman.”
“Thanks for noticing,” she said, “However, Bobby doesn’t look any older than Jeremiah.”
“I have a feeling Major Perkins isn’t far away.”
“We have to try,” she said.
He nodded. “Don’t worry. When the time is right, we’ll get out of here. We need for them to trust us first.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “I think you’re stalling.”
“Maybe I am,” he said, squeezing her close. “But I want to make darn sure that when we do attempt our escape, that it’s successful.”
Claire kissed his cheek. “All right.”
She settled back against him. She’d give him the first shot at getting them out of this mess. But in the meantime, she’d work on her own escape plan.
Jeffrey sighed with relief when Claire fell asleep, her head against his chest. He had attempted to sound reassuring, but truly, he couldn’t fathom why the three of them had been singled out for capture. He didn’t count Jeremiah in this because the boy had just sort of jumped in with them. Wherever Claire went, he was with her. Oddly enough, the boy didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that she was obviously attached to Jeffrey. Perhaps he merely waited his turn.
Hearts Under Fire Page 9