Hearts Under Fire

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Hearts Under Fire Page 10

by Kathryn Kelly


  He had been truthful when he described their ragtag group—a boy, an old man, a recovering gunshot victim, and a girl. They might be able to overpower Bobby and escape, but then what? Would they be chased down? They needed to find out why they had been captured. Then they would know how to deal with it.

  It seemed they would be going to his home, Chene Ruelle, sooner than he had expected. And Gramps would be joining them. Of course, they couldn’t have left Gramps there alone anyway. Jeffrey needed to get word to his sister, Alexandra, so she could be prepared for his return—with guests, and possibly even a wife.

  And, there was the minor detail of telling Claire that he was not a Yankee. The longer he failed to tell her, the more anxious he became about it. She would be upset with him for misleading her. He didn’t want her upset with him.

  He gazed down at Claire’s face, peacefully asleep against his chest. His heart swelled with love. He loved everything about her—her soft skin, her long silky hair, her full lashes, her lush pink lips, her determination, her warmth. Indeed, the list never ended.

  He prayed he wasn’t the cause of their capture, but he was thankful that he was with her. He would lay down his life to keep her safe.

  The afternoon dragged on. Claire struggled with a strange combination of emotions—homesickness from the loss of her home, anxiety about what would happen to them, and contentment to be in Jeffrey’s arms.

  Even now, with the swaying of the wagon lulling her into a fitful slumber, she cherished the feel of Jeffrey against her back. Now and then he would tilt his head forward and kiss her temple.

  It was all so new. They hadn’t discussed their future, of course. They barely had gotten into a present. Nonetheless, as she grew more attached to him by the minute, she would do what she could to make sure they stayed together.

  If staying with him meant going up north, then so be it. Naturally, she’d never been up north, but from what she’d read, it was cold – almost all the time. She would miss the warmth of Louisiana, but she would adapt. And she would make sure Gramps did as well. After all, it wasn’t where you lived, it was who you were with. So, yes, she steeled herself to travel up north—wherever that may be.

  She was jarred out of her reverie at the sound of a horse approaching. Major Perkins rode up to the wagon, a slain deer tied behind him.

  What an image to wake up to.

  “We’ll stop here for the night,” Major Perkins told Bobby.

  “Where do you think we’re going?” Claire asked Jeffrey.

  “I don’t know,” he said, glancing at the setting sun. “Looks like we’re heading north.”

  “Do you think we’re still in Louisiana?”

  He smiled. “I think so.”

  “I’ve never traveled this far.”

  “It’s a big country,” he commented.

  “Everyone out,” Bobby ordered.

  As they all climbed out of the wagon, Bobby retrieved the deer and proceeded to hang it from a tree limb. Claire walked a little further than necessary to find a private area. Romeo dashed past her, heading deeper into the woods. Please don’t get lost, Romeo.

  Why don’t we just walk away? It was the thought that wouldn’t leave her mind. She’d read in the newspapers Henry O’Donnell brought her that when a soldier was captured, it was expected that they would not try to escape. It was the honorable thing to do. No one really wanted to know what she thought of honor at the moment.

  When she came back to the road, Gramps, Jeffrey, and Jeremiah were sitting on a couple of logs they had located and slid over to make room for her.

  Bobby had the deer tied up. “You,” he said, pointing to Claire. “Skin the deer so we can have supper.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “Me?”

  “Yes,” he said, holding out a knife to her.

  She eyed the knife speculatively, then lifted her gaze back to his. Her chin inched up a notch. “No,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  She folded her arms and dug in her heals. “No, I won’t do it. I’m a prisoner, not a servant.”

  “You’re a prisoner and you’ll do as I say.” He took her by the arm and pulled her toward the hanging deer.

  “Hey,” Jeffrey called, jumping to his feet. “You will not touch her.”

  Bobby turned, but didn’t release her. “You are also a prisoner, so you have no say with what I do.”

  Jeffrey took a step forward. “Release her,” he said.

  They stared at each other for two seconds, three. Bobby released her and brandished the knife in the air in front of him. He took a step toward Jeffrey. “I don’t think you understand your role here.”

  “No,” Jeffrey answered. “I don’t. Why don’t you explain to me why you’ve taken us as prisoners? Why you captured a harmless old man and an innocent woman.”

  “That’s the beauty of being the captor. I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

  “Is that so?” Jeffrey took another step forward. The space between the two men was closing rapidly.

  “Jeffrey, no!” Claire cried, running to stand next to him and clinging to his arm.

  You’re unarmed,” she pointed out.

  “Very well,” Bobby declared. “In this case, there will be no supper. You will eat the hardtack I gave you earlier.”

  “You can’t starve us,” Claire said.

  “I can do whatever I please.”

  “You’re a cad.”

  Major Perkins rode up to the group and everyone stood in silence. “What is going on here?” he demanded.

  “There will be no supper,” Bobby informed him.

  “And why not? There’s a perfectly good deer just waiting to be skinned.”

  “Exactly. The girl won’t skin it.”

  Major Perkins turned and looked at her. She raised her chin and set her jaw. “Very well,” he said. “let one of the other ones do it.”

  “They’re being stubborn,” Bobby said, petulance coming through in his voice.

  “If you can’t get them to do it,” Major Perkins said, “you’ll just have to do it yourself.” With that, he dismounted and walked his horse a few feet aside and tethered him.

  Bobby put his hands on his hips. “You,” he said, pointing the knife at Jeremiah. “Do you want to eat tonight?”

  Jeremiah glanced at Claire, then turned his eyes back on Bobby. “You can’t starve us,” he said, taking the knife from Bobby. The knife in his hand, he looked again to Claire. Within minutes he began preparing the deer meat for cooking.

  Bobby built a fire, not looking to his prisoners anymore. Major Perkins brushed his horse.

  Claire, Gramps, and Jeffrey sat back on their logs.

  “You mustn’t do that again,” Gramps said.

  “Why not,” she asked. “I’m not his servant.”

  “It’s better not to have his attention on you.”

  “He’s right,” Jeffrey said, before she could respond. “I would have helped you.”

  “It’s not right,” she insisted.

  “No, it isn’t. But it’s war. And we don’t want his hostility on you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be,” Jeffrey said. “I just don’t want him to hurt you.”

  Her eyes widened and she looked to Gramps.

  “You never know, Kitten,” he said.

  “Why do you think Jeremiah’s doing it?” Jeffrey asked. “He’s doing it for two reasons. One so you can eat. And two, to have the attention off of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, a lump in her throat. Turning her head, she noticed Bobby hunched in front of his fire, his face brooding, and looking in her direction.

  Oh bother. The lump in her throat turned to fear. She’d gotten away from the attention of Colonel Bonaire and now Bobby was focused on her. How did she get into these things anyway?

  “I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Jeffrey said, watching Jeremiah as he wiped the knife on his breeches and slipped it into his boot.


  “We need to get away from here,” Gramps said.

  “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Claire said.

  Major Perkins stopped brushing his horse and turned his attention on her.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. No one spoke for the few seconds before Perkins resumed his work.

  “We need more information first,” Jeffrey said. “And besides, we don’t have any money.”

  Claire and Gramps looked at each other. Claire nodded.

  “What did I miss?” Jeffrey asked.

  “If we could get back to our house, we might have some money,” Gramps said.

  Jeffrey shook his head. “It was burned to the ground.”

  “It was hidden,” Claire whispered.

  “I don’t think so,” Jeffrey insisted.

  “All we have to do is go look,” Claire persisted.

  “It’s a full day’s ride from here.”

  Claire shrugged.

  Jeremiah stopped by Bobby’s fire, dropped off a hunk of meat, and joined them at the logs. “We have food now,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Claire said.

  Jeremiah sighed. “Someone had to do it.”

  “Bobby should have,” Claire said.

  “Maybe so,” Jeremiah whispered, with a glint in his eyes. “But now I have a knife.”

  Claire lowered her face and covered her eyes with her hands. Men. What good was a knife going to do? Taking a deep breath, she looked back up at Jeremiah. “It was a very brave thing you did,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Jeremiah beamed. “You’re welcome.”

  She heard Jeffrey, sitting next to her, groan.

  Major Perkins completed his horse grooming and came to stand before them. He studied each of them.

  “Why have you taken us?” Gramps asked.

  “I had orders to do so,” Perkins said, rapping his riding crop against his leg.

  “Orders? Orders from who?” Jeffrey asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Perkins said.

  “Where are you taking us?” Claire asked.

  “Alton Prison.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Illinois.”

  Claire gasped. He was taking them up north. “But why?”

  “You played a pivotal role in aiding and abetting the enemy.”

  “They weren’t our enemy,” Claire pointed out.

  Perkins tilted his head and seemed to consider her. Then, ignoring her comment, he shifted his gaze to Gramps. “I regret the loss of your home,” he said. “However, it had to be destroyed.”

  With that, he turned on his heel. Then he paused and turned back. “You,” he said, pointing to Claire. “You’ll sleep in the wagon. The rest of you will sleep on the ground.” He turned again and walked back to his horse.

  “You can’t sleep on the ground,” she said.

  “It looks like we will.”

  “There’s no one guarding us,” Claire pointed out. “Let’s just go.”

  Jeffrey shook his head, glancing toward Bobby, brooding over the roasting venison. “We wouldn’t get anywhere.”

  “He’s right,” Gramps said.

  Claire adjusted her skirts and sat in silence. Her stomach growled.

  They would be prisoners then. Could women be prisoners? Would she be separated from the men? She looked at Gramps. He sat hunched on the log. His hair seemed grayer. When had that happened? His eyes were downcast. He would die in prison. Even the thought of him sleeping on the hard ground was more than she could bear.

  Perhaps after they slept, in the light of morning, the men would be more open to escaping.

  A few minutes later, Bobby brought a spit of meat to them, holding it out to them, one by one to tear off a chunk. He held it out to Claire last and glared at her as she tore off a chunk of the venison. Deer meat was not her favorite, but right now, anything would have been welcome in her starving stomach. She’d had no breakfast, then only a couple bites of petrified biscuit for dinner.

  They ate in silence, sharing a flask of water. The sunlight settled into the trees, its misty brightness belying the horrors of war beneath the skies.

  The four of them spoke only in whispers. Bobby had eaten, also, sitting apart from them. Perkins had also taken his chunk of meat off to eat out of their eyesight.

  Jeffrey took her hand in his and they sat in silence for about an hour, their hands entwined, their shoulders touching. Darkness settled in and blanketed them. Romeo, who hadn’t been seen since they disembarked from the wagon, showed up and was greeted with relief by the foursome.

  Major Perkins reappeared from wherever he had been, spoke in hushed tones to Bobby, and left again.

  Bobby approached the little group and glared at Claire. “You have to sleep in the wagon,” he said.

  “Why do you care where I sleep?”

  “I don’t care, but Major Perkins gave you the order.”

  “I don’t take orders from Major Perkins,” she answered.

  “Claire,” Gramps hissed, shaking his head quickly. “Don’t.”

  Sighing, she began to stand. Jeffrey jumped up and helped her to her feet. Together they began walking to the wagon.

  “You stay,” Bobby demanded.

  Jeffrey took a step back and held up his hands, palms up. “Just gonna help the lady into the wagon,” he said.

  Bobby glared at them, but did so in silence.

  As he lifted her by the waist into the wagon, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll come visit you later, when he’s asleep.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said.

  Claire sat in the wagon and peered over the edge, watching Gramps, Jeffrey, and Jeremiah. She could hear their voices, but could only catch snippets of words now and then. She sighed.

  It seemed she was stuck here alone in this wagon while they were forced to sleep on the ground. The wagon was no feather bed and she had no blanket, but this had to be better than trying to fall asleep on the ground. Besides, what if there were snakes? She shuddered. No, it would be impossible to sleep on the bare ground.

  Exhausted, she lay back on the unyielding wood, her back against the side of the wagon, and stared up at the stars. How could there be so many of them, so bright, and so far away? She could see a glimmer of the moon through the treetops. It, too, seemed, calm and bright. Its end tipped down. She wondered if it would rain tonight, as the saying went.

  She shivered. As they traveled north, it would grow colder at night. They had no blankets, nothing at all for warmth.

  If they could escape, would they be able to find their way home? She should have been watching their route instead of sleeping. From here on out, she vowed silently, she would watch for landmarks and the direction they traveled. Even if it took some time, they would be going home.

  Unless, of course… she bit her lip. If Jeffrey lived up north, it would make more sense to just go with him. They had no reason to come back this way. The money in the fireplace was Confederate money. It wouldn’t be worth the effort to come all the way back for it. Especially if they would be living up north where it wouldn’t be accepted. She sighed. Why did it have to be so complicated? Surely Jeffrey would take care of them. Or perhaps they could find jobs of some sort. She could sew and cook and clean…

  For the first time that day, she felt the tears start to fall from her eyes. Their situation was dire. Truly, she didn’t know how they would get out of it. She and Gramps couldn’t rely on Jeffrey, at least not for long. Sure, they had taken care of him… after they shot him. But for any length of time, they mustn’t rely on him.

  Besides, he hadn’t asked her to marry him. And did she want to? She barely knew him. Didn’t know where he came from. What he was capable of. Did he have any skills? Could he support her and Gramps and any children?

  She took a steadying breath. He set her body on fire. He was kind. He was dependable. He was handsome. That was all she had to go on right now. Until she knew more, she had to make tentative plans f
or her and Gramps to make it on their own.

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, and her body shivering from the night air, she fell asleep. And the nightmares came.

  She was running through the fog, briars scratching at her flesh. The fog blinded her and burned her eyes. Her feet tangled in the briars.

  She fell against the hard ground. A gun exploded.

  She screamed.

  And screamed.

  But no one came.

  Then he was there. She clung to Jeffrey, her face pressed against his chest, her fists tangled in his shirt. The tears became sobs.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I’m here. It was just a dream. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  She clung tighter. He gently stroked her back, her head, her hair. He kissed her face, her eyes, her mouth. “Don’t cry,” he said, kissing the tears that fell from her cheeks.

  When she’d cried everything out, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “I heard you scream.”

  “It was out loud?”

  He laughed. “No one heard you but me.”

  “How is that?”

  He ran his fingers along her chin. “I care about you.”

  Her lips trembled and tears seeped from her eyes again.

  “Oh now, here,” he pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. “That’s a good thing.”

  “I know,” she said with a sniffle.

  Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her cheeks and held it to her nose to blow.

  Halfway through blowing her nose, she giggled.

  “What? You never blew your nose in man’s handkerchief before?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “Never, but I held a handkerchief to my sister’s nose often enough.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “A twin, actually.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Her name is Alexandra. She can ride as well as I can – which is pretty good, by the way.”

 

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