Claire smiled.
“She can treat a sniffle or a broken arm.”
“She’s a doctor?”
“Not exactly, just trained in the art of healing. Anyway, she can paint and draw beautifully. Someday, I’ll wager, it’ll serve her well. She’s good at reading and math—better than I am actually, but don’t tell her that.
“She’s beautiful, too. And everyone adores her.”
“You really love her.”
“I do.” She could hear the wistfulness in his voice. “She’s safely at home right now with our Grandfather, taking care of the… house.” He lifted his eyes and stared into the darkness. “She doesn’t know if I’m dead or alive. I have to let her know.”
“You didn’t write her?”
“No, not in some time.”
“You have to write her.”
He nodded. “At the first opportunity.”
They sat there and held each other. A coyote howled in the distance.
“Want to tell me about your dream?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Are they asleep?”
“I don’t think Bobby’s supposed to be asleep, but he drifted off some time ago.”
“We should leave,” she said, snuggling deeper against him.
“Indeed,” he agreed.
He lifted her chin and placed his lips on hers.
She sighed.
How could anything be better than this?
And he cared for her.
He began to move his lips and parted her lips with his tongue. She sank into the kiss and the world faded away.
Several minutes later, they lay entwined in each other’s arms. He moved his kisses to her cheek, and whispered, “I don’t want to ever be apart from you again.”
“Never,” she murmured.
“No, I mean it. I want us to be together.”
“All right.”
He chuckled and kissed her on the lips again.
Bobby woke and stirred. At first, the sounds didn’t register with Claire, but when it did, she gasped.
They both grew still and he pulled her tighter to him. Even in the moonlight, she saw determination in his clenched jaw.
“We can’t let him find you here,” she breathed.
“He won’t.”
“You have to go.
He groaned, but peeked through the boards of the wagon side. Claire shifted to see what he was looking at. Bobby looked out toward the woods.
Jeffrey kissed her soundly on the lips, silently moved to the opposite side of the wagon and jumped over. A few seconds later, he came around the side of the wagon and headed back to his sleeping area.
Bobby lifted his musket. “Where were you?” he demanded.
“I had to relieve myself.”
“Humph.” Bobby lowered his weapon. “Next time you need to ask me.”
“You were asleep.”
“I was on guard. I wasn’t asleep.”
“I see. Well, good night,” Jeffrey said as he lay down and turned his back to the soldier.
The next morning, they were all moving a bit stiffly. None of them were used to the unforgiving hardness of the ground. Even Claire who had slept in the wagon fared no better.
Jeffrey tamped down his foul mood. Their breakfast consisted of cold venison to go along with their hardtack. They ate in silence. This was no way for an old man to spend his twilight years. Nor was it any way for a beautiful woman to be treated.
Jeffrey resented every moment wasted that he could be with Claire. After seeing her in distress last night, his patience with their situation waned.
As Bobby broke camp, the four of them sat, looking at each other. Major Perkins had yet to be seen this morning.
“Do you still have that knife?” Jeffrey whispered to Jeremiah.
“I do,” Jeremiah answered.
Jeffrey nodded once.
“Time to use it?” Jeremiah asked, leaning forward and bubbling with anticipation.
“No,” Jeffrey said. “Just hold on to it.”
“Don’t you worry.” He patted his boot. “Got it right here.”
“Yeah, well, try not to announce it,” Jeffrey said, with a glance toward Bobby. The soldier was packing up his gear, a perpetual scowl plastered on his face.
Claire had dark smudges under her eyes, doubtless from lack of sleep and proper nutrition. Seeing him watching her, she met his eyes and smiled. Some of the spark had disappeared from her eyes. More than anything, that made him want to rip somebody apart. Any somebody in a blue uniform would do.
He scooted over to close the gap between them. “When I say the word,” he whispered, “we’re gonna run for it.”
“Really?” Her face brightened, then sobered. “But you don’t know anything about why we were taken.”
“I’m not sure we ever will. And I’m starting to agree with you that it doesn’t matter anyway. We just need to get away from here. We can’t go to prison,” he looked pointedly at Gramps.
Gramps had his head down on his hands again.
“He wouldn’t survive,” Claire stated.
“I agree. And,” he squeezed her hand, “although you may think differently, you might not survive prison either.”
She nodded. “You’re right. Just one night in the wilderness and I feel trod upon.”
He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad I’m with you.”
“Me, too.”
“Alright, love birds,” Bobby called out to them. “It’s time for you all to get back in the wagon to get going.”
Claire went to Gramps and steadied him as he stood. Jeremiah picked up Romeo and dumped him in the wagon. Jeffrey grabbed Claire by the waist and swung her up.
Jeffrey leaned over and whispered to Gramps. “When I say the word, we’ll run for it.”
Gramps grunted concomitantly, but nodded his head.
A few minutes after they settled in the wagon, Gramps bent over and whispered something to Jeremiah.
Jeffrey’s mind whirled. They hadn’t seen Major Perkins all morning. He was the wild card in this situation. If he showed up at the last minute, there would be trouble. They had to play it safe.
Claire winced as the wagon began rolling over the bumpy road that was little more than a trail replete with rocks and roots. Her backside was tender from yesterday’s travels. Maybe she should get out and walk.
She contemplated that option as the wagon bumped along. It would be good to stretch her legs and… they could wander off a lot less noticed.
“Ask him if we can walk,” she said to Jeffrey, over the din of the wagon.
“Why do you want to walk?”
A blush crept up her neck and splattered onto her face. “This is a little… uncomfortable.”
Jeffrey nodded, seeming to understand. “You can sit on my lap.”
Her face heated and she lowered her eyes.
He squeezed her hand and she looked back up to meet his gaze. His lips tilted at the corners and he winked.
Her eyes widened and tingles skittered along her spine. She glanced at Gramps, but he stared out at the passing woods, seemingly in his own world. Jeremiah seemed intent on scratching Romeo’s ears.
Jeffrey stretched over and tapped the seat behind Bobby. “We need to stop,” he said.
Bobby looked over his shoulder. “Stop for what? We’ve only been gone ten minutes.”
“I don’t know, man. It’s a woman thing.”
Bobby didn’t stop immediately. After a few seconds, he cursed under his breath, but stopped the wagon.
“You’d think he had an appointment,” Claire said, as Jeffrey helped her from the wagon.
Gramps climbed out behind them, then Jeremiah.
“What the Hell? I thought it was a woman thing,” Bobby said, noticing that all his prisoners had gotten off the wagon.
Claire spotted a clump of brush and headed toward it.
“I’m
gonna walk,” Gramps declared. “My back is killing me.”
Claire smiled. It was all coming together.
She waited a few minutes, then rejoined the group.
“Let’s go,” Bobby said.
“I’m gonna walk too,” Claire stated, and began to walk ahead.
Jeremiah fell into step behind her, then Jeffrey, then Gramps.
Bobby’s grumbling grew louder, but he had no choice but to follow them in the wagon.
As he passed them, the wheels kicked up dust and Claire coughed. The wagon was ahead of them now, and they walked in its dust.
Bobby seemed, for the moment, to have let his guard down. They had caught him off-guard by all getting out of the wagon and walking.
Claire stopped and turned back to the men as they caught up. Jeffrey was sprinting toward her. He took her hand.
“Now!”
The four of them dashed off the road into the trees, heading southwest.
Claire no longer heard the wagon. Her blood pounded in her ears and brambles snagged at her dress, ripping it. She concentrated on keeping a grip on his hand and not falling down.
A few more feet and fear struck at her heart. “Romeo!” She dug in her heels until Jeffrey stopped. “We left Romeo in the wagon,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath.
“I’ll get him,” Jeremiah said, almost slamming into her.
“Wait,” Jeffrey said, but Jeremiah had already turned and was running back the way they had come.
“Poor Romeo,” Claire said, tears welling in her eyes. “How could we have forgotten him? Bobby will kill him.”
“I don’t think he’ll kill him,” Jeffrey said, but without conviction.
“He’ll kill Jeremiah, too,” Gramps said. Jeffrey and Claire stared at him in silence. Gramps shrugged. “I think he’d kill any of us if given half a chance.”
“Indeed,” Jeffrey agreed.
“Well,” Claire said, blowing her hair out of her eyes. “We have to wait for him.”
“That’s not the best idea.”
“We have to.”
They stood looking at each other.
“We need to go back for them,” Claire said.
Gramps and Jeffrey shook their heads in unison. “He might need our help,” she insisted, and headed back toward Jeremiah.
They grumbled, but they followed. Except for the sounds of their feet crunching over leaves and sticks, the silence was deafening.
Claire glanced over her shoulder. The men followed in silence now. It disturbed her a little that they didn’t protest.
They’d been walking for about ten minutes. Since they’d been running on the way out, she wasn’t sure how far they’d come.
She froze at the sounds of something crashing through the brush towards them. It was Romeo!
“Romeo,” she called, and bent down to greet her dog. Romeo, however, kept running, ignoring her outstretched arms. “What?”
Then she heard the commotion that Romeo ran from. It sounded like a whole heard of elephants rushed toward them.
Jeffrey grabbed her hand. And ran in the opposite direction from the commotion, pulling her behind him.
They veered east, climbing over a fallen log. Gramps heaved behind them, breathing labored. They lay flat on their stomachs, not moving. Waiting.
Then they saw. Jeremiah hobbled ahead, dragging his right leg. The Yankees marched behind, even moving at an unhurried gait, they gained on him.
Please don’t let them see us.
A gunshot fired. Claire screamed. Jeremiah arched his back unnaturally, then fell to the ground.
Jeffrey pulled her to him, cradling her head against his chest. She couldn’t see. She didn’t want to see. She couldn’t breathe.
Dear God, please let Jeremiah be ok. Please don’t let the Yankees see us.
Seconds passed and the enemy turned, marching in the opposite direction, their mission accomplished.
Neither Claire, nor Jeffrey, nor Gramps moved a muscle.
Jeffrey lifted his head to peer over the log. “We’re clear,” he announced. “We need to go.” He scrambled to his feet, taking Claire by the hand and pulling her with him. He then turned to Gramps and held out a hand.
“Thank you,” Gramps acknowledged, allowing the younger man to help him to his feet.
“Jeremiah,” Claire said.
“I’m sorry,” Jeffrey said. “If we take the time to help him… or bury him, they’ll be on us like fleas.”
“We can’t just leave him,” Claire said, pain welling in her neck, tears spilling from her eyes, as she stared at Jeremiah’s still body.
“Claire,” Jeffrey said, taking her by the arms. “Look at me.” He shook her, once, just to get her attention. Her eyes lifted to his. Her lips trembled. “Claire. We have to take Gramps and get as far from here as we can, as quickly as we can. If we don’t, we go to a Yankee prison—or worse. Gramps will not survive that.”
Claire’s eyes widened. He’d never spoken that way to her before. Or looked that serious.
“Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Do you trust me?”
Did she?
“Do you?” he asked again.
Her eyes met his. Locked. And she knew, that yes, she did, trust him. “I do,” she said. And meant it.
“Can you make it?” Jeffrey asked, turning to Gramps.
“No choice.”
With one last look at Jeremiah’s still form stretched on the ground, they were off and running. This time, they zigzagged through the trees.
Jeffrey ran in front of her, pulling her along. Gramps wheezed behind her. Romeo would find them. He just had to. No thoughts of Jeremiah were allowed.
Her feet ached and her legs burned. The discomfort of her backside from the bouncing wagon would be welcome now.
Poor Jeremiah. He had cared so much for her. And he had died saving her dog. It was too much to bear.
Gramps’ wheezing stopped. Claire dug in her heels and pulled her hand from Jeffrey’s. “Wait.”
She rushed the few feet back to where Gramps kneeled on the ground.
“We have to stop,” she said, sensing Jeffrey standing next to her.
“No,” Gramps whispered, “I just need to rest a moment.”
“You’re right,” Jeffrey agreed, surveying the area around them. “We’re sufficiently lost anyway.”
“We’re lost?” Claire glanced up at Jeffrey, then put her hand on Gramps’ forehead.
“We need water.”
Jeffrey blew out a breath. “We need a lot of things.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked, mostly to herself.
“I can move, just a little more slowly.”
The ragtag group trudged southward, keeping a slow, but steady pace. They had no water. No food. No weapon. They were at the mercy of not only the Union army, but the elements, and time itself. Without water, they would dehydrate within days.
Maybe sooner, at this rate, Claire thought, lifting her gaze to the sun’s glare.
Coming to a clearing, they all three wordlessly plopped onto the ground.
“How much further?” Claire asked.
Gramps and Jeffrey both looked at her blankly for a moment, then both burst into laughter.
“I guess that depends on where we’re headed,” Jeffrey said.
“I thought you’d have an idea.”
“I think,” Jeffrey began, looking around him, “we should have planned this out a little better.”
“There wasn’t time,” Gramps said.
Jeffrey shook his head, “Nonetheless, we should have planned it so as not to get ourselves in this mess.”
“We’ll get ourselves out of it,” Claire insisted, getting to her feet. “We’ll keep walking until we come to something.”
“It could be days,” Gramps said.
“I doubt it. It’s not like we live in an uncivilized country.”
“You’d be surprised,” Jeffrey said, but got
to his feet, anyway.
Gramps stood up too, and they began walking again.
“We should follow the sunset,” Jeffrey suggested.
Follow the sunset.
It wasn’t much, but it was all they had to go on.
And they had each other.
Chapter Eleven
It turned out they didn’t get very far. Jeffrey ran a hand through his hair and studied the river below them.
“Where are we?” Claire asked.
“It’s the Red River,” Jeffrey answered.
“How do you know?”
“It’s red.”
“He’s right,” Gramps supplied.
“So where are we?” Claire asked again.
“We’ve sort of made a circle.”
“I’m completely lost. How do you keep up?”
“I think it’s called dead reckoning.”
“That sounds ominous in light of things.”
“It just means I can find my way around the woods.”
“We have to get across,” Gramps said.
“How?”
“We need to find a boat.”
Good idea. But…
“We’ll follow the river until we find a way across.”
They trudged along the riverbank, too exhausted now to talk much.
Claire stumbled and fell, tripping over her skirt.
Jeffrey knelt at her side. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“We need to rest,” he said.
Gramps sat down next to them. “We won’t get much further without water.”
“We have to come across something soon,” Claire said. “Don’t we?”
“The river is fairly populated,” Gramps insisted. “Just need to follow it.”
“Maybe we should get some sleep,” Jeffrey suggested.
Claire shifted her gaze toward the riverbank. Imagined slithery things. “I think I’ll pass,” she said. “Besides, it’ll be dark soon and I’d rather not be near the water.” Perhaps Jeffrey didn’t know about snakes, being from up north.
“Very well,” Jeffrey said, looking at one, then the other. “We’ll keep going then.”
Claire ached everywhere. She’d worked long days before, certainly, but this walking for miles and miles was worse than any long day’s work she had put in.
The sun continued to drop over the water and her trepidation increased. The air grew cooler and the crickets of the night began to chirp. She gathered her skirts up above her knees to free herself to walk through the high grass.
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