And One Wore Gray

by Heather Graham

  “What now, Colonel?” Billy demanded.

  They could brazen their way out with their guns, but they’d probably be gunned down in turn.

  “I—” Daniel began.

  But it was then that fate stepped in. Out in the street there was the sudden, deafening sound of an explosion.

  Davie dropped to his knees. “Merciful heaven, what was that?”

  For a moment, Daniel wasn’t sure. Then he realized what had happened, and he grinned broadly. “A supply wagon exploded out there. It was probably carrying a ton of dynamite. Every man jack around will be forgetting his position and running out to see what’s happened or if he can help. Let’s go! Fast. Move, move, move!”

  Heedless of being sighted, Daniel began to run. To the amazement of his two men, no one paid them the slightest heed. Everyone was running, racing toward the street. There were shouts of help.

  The gates opened, and men in various stages of dress began to rush through them.

  Daniel made it through the gate with Davie and Billie behind him. There was smoke everywhere, helping to screen their escape. But better than that, there were screams in the street and a wild mass of people in any manner of dress running in every possible direction.

  Street lamps were lit, but they did little against the heavy, acrid smoke in the air.

  “Close the gates!” someone shouted. But it didn’t matter. Daniel and his men were out.

  Billy kept running with the crowd. Daniel snatched him up firmly by the collar. “Jesu, Billy, we’re trying to get away from those men, remember?”

  “Right!” Billy said.

  Daniel led them down a cold, dark alley. He closed his eyes, trying to think of what to do, or where to go now. He could hear horses’ hooves thundering as fire engines hurried toward the street in front of the prison. It might be a long while before they were discovered missing. And then again, it might be too soon.

  Huddled in the alley, their hearts pounding in equal rhythm to the thundering hooves, Daniel tried to think. Who did he know in D.C., where could he turn for help?

  “There’s Aunt Priscilla’s,” Billy offered.

  Daniel stared at him. “You know how to find her?”

  “Sure. ? Street. Come on.”

  Billy led the way. Daniel felt like a snake, slinking along the buildings, falling flat against them any time they came across citizens out in the night. But bit by bit they moved through the city, and at last they stood in the alleyway behind a fine old Federal-style house of red brick with big Greek columns. “That’s it,” Billy whispered. “But I think that Aunt Priscilla is entertaining.”

  Through the shades they could see movement. A man and a woman, entwined. No, they were dancing, Daniel decided. No, they were just entwined. Her laughter rang out, and the characters caught in shadow on the drapes disappeared. A moment later, a light appeared from one of the upstairs windows.

  “What do we do now?” Davie murmured.

  “We go on in. Quietly. I’m not staying in this alley.”

  Daniel led the way across the yard, keeping a careful eye on the upstairs window and watching the downstairs too. They reached the porch, and moved carefully along it to a window. Daniel looked in. The room was empty. He slipped on in, motioning to the two others to follow him.

  They did so. Then Daniel jumped, for he heard the soft cadences of a black woman singing. He motioned the others back and hurried to the hallway door. An attractive young housekeeper was just closing off the dining room, humming away. Daniel slipped back against the wall as the girl passed by the hallway. He watched as she hurried along to a back set of steps, the servant’s stairway. She disappeared up the stairway, and Daniel stepped back, sighing softly.

  Maybe they were safe for a spell. Maybe not. They needed to move. At the least, they needed a plan. By morning, their disappearance would definitely be noted.

  He motioned to Billy and Davie to stay behind and started silently up the main stairway. It was beautiful, with a carved mahogany banister and red velvet runners. The runners silenced his footsteps.

  He stood outside in the upper hallway, listening. He could hear a woman giggling again. He tiptoed closer to an open bedroom door.

  A heavyset man with an iron-gray handlebar mustache sat up in his long Johns in the bed. His uniform—that of an artillery commander—lay across the footstool at the bottom of the bed.

  Aunt Priscilla stood before her mirror dressed in a set of some of the most outrageous undergarments that Daniel had ever seen. Brilliant orange lace frothed in between rows of black. Black mesh stockings barely covered her legs. A fine set of breasts were well displayed, popping over the orange-and-black lace at the top of the garment.

  He saw that she had passed through many more years than her body gave hint to. Her hair was red, but not a real red. It was almost as orange as the color in her garment.

  “Don’t you worry your little head none about what old Abe’s planning on doing with his army now. He’ll think of something—”

  “But you know what he’s thinking, Louis, and I feel so much safer here when you talk to me!” she replied. She frowned suddenly, and Daniel realized that she had met his gaze in the mirror. He had thought to withdraw quickly. He did not want to embarrass this helpmate of the Confederacy.

  But he didn’t embarrass her at all. She smiled at him in the mirror, and moistened her lips. Her eyes were large and brown and fine, and she winked.

  “Louis, I believe that I need just a touch of sherry tonight. I’ve a chill. If you’ll excuse me—”

  “Why, Prissy, I’ll get you anything that your heart desires—”

  “No, no, no, Louis! You stay right there! And stay warm, darling. I’ll be back in just a flash.”

  She slipped a flimsy wrap around her shoulders, kissed Louis on his near balding pate, and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  She leaned against it breathlessly. “You’re Daniel Cameron,” she mouthed softly.

  He nodded. She gripped his hand and urged him quickly down the hall, pressing him into another room, and closing the door.

  “You’re supposed to be in a coffin!” she told him.

  “I didn’t want to do it that way.”

  “It’s amazing that you haven’t been caught!” she exclaimed. “You fool! You should have done things my way. I’d have found you and brought you here—”

  “Well, I’m right beholden for that, ma’am, but I’m here on my own now—”

  “They’ll be looking for you!” she exclaimed.

  “Well, yes, that they will. By morning.”

  “I wanted to keep you for a while!” she exclaimed.

  Startled, Daniel took a step back. She wasn’t an unattractive woman. She was perhaps ten years his senior, and in her way, she was very pretty. Her face was round, her eyes were intelligent.

  Her hair reminded him of Callie’s. Hair that was real fire, hair that he had swirled around his fingers, hair that had covered his body like a sweep of silk.

  Hair I could string her up by, he reminded himself.

  “You are just like him!” Aunt Priscilla said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Daniel said.

  “Your brother. You’re just like your brother.”

  “You know Jesse?”

  “Oh, of course. I move in all the right circles, very carefully. I wanted that brother of yours the moment that I saw him, Colonel. But I heard that he’d lost his heart to some little southern girl. Then I heard that he had a brother in prison who was very near his double.”

  Her voice trailed away suggestively.

  Daniel didn’t know whether to be amused or offended.

  “I’ll have to have you out of here by morning!” she wailed.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Ma’am, have you forgotten that you’ve a man in another bedroom?”

  “Oh, Louis!” She waved a hand in the air. “I can dispatch him rather quickly.” Her eyes opened very wide. “I do enjoy my work, Colone
l,” she said. “And I have been invaluable to the troops. General Robert E. Lee said so himself!”

  Daniel tried to envision the exceedingly dignified Lee in the same room with this woman. He couldn’t quite drum up the sight.

  “Ma’am, I imagine that your services have indeed been invaluable,” he assured her. “But please, don’t dispatch Louis on my account.”

  “But I’ve waited—”

  “And I have to move on, ma’am. I’ve two men with me. I want to be in Virginia by morning.”

  Virginia! No, he wanted to go back. To Maryland. He wanted to go back to Callie Michaelson’s farmhouse, and he wanted to confront her there.

  He gritted his teeth, suddenly realizing—or admitting—that he couldn’t go back now. His first responsibility was freedom—for himself, and for Billy and Davie. He had to cross into the South, and he had to make his way back to Stuart’s service as quickly as possible.

  A time would come. Soon. There would be another campaign into the North again, he was certain. They’d have to attack the North for supplies. If they didn’t attack the Yanks on their own territory, the Yanks would never see just how ugly war could be.

  He would go to Virginia now.

  “Colonel, you’re not even paying any attention to me!” Aunt Priscilla complained.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. My mind is on my heartland!” he assured her dramatically.

  She sighed, looking very peeved. “Colonel—”

  He stepped forward, took her hand, and kissed it. “Alas, regrets, ma’am! But I do have to move on. And I’m sorry, but Jesse married that southern girl. I’m afraid you won’t have any luck with him in the future either.”

  Once again, she sighed, and turned.

  She could turn nicely. Everything about her seemed to move and sway.

  He should have wanted her. It should have been an escapade, like some of the nights they had all spent out west long before the war.

  His jaw clenched down hard. Callie. Damn her.

  He wanted her. Wanted the flame of her hair, and the flame of her love. No other woman, strumpet or lady, could fire him the same way.

  Damn her, he thought.

  Priscilla stopped suddenly, saying over her shoulder, “Get your men, Colonel. There’s a wagon out back in the barn. Harness the horses to it. Get yourselves in it and as soon as I get that old goat Louis off to sleep, I’ll be out. I may even have something for you to bring to your commander.”

  She swayed out of the room.

  He smiled. Maybe he should be flattered that she had been interested. After all, to most Rebs, Jesse looked like Daniel, and not vice versa.

  Downstairs he found Davie and Billy, and they slipped just as quietly out of the house as they had entered it. The night seemed just about dead silent now, and there was only the sliver of a moon out. They found the barn easily enough, and the wagon. It was loaded up with hay and straw. Without even speaking, they set about choosing a team of horses, and hitching them up to the wagon as quickly as possible. The three men crawled in, covering themselves up the best they could.

  Moments later, a dark-clad figure hurried into the barn. Daniel was startled to see that it was Priscilla, and that she had made a drastic change. She was in black widow’s weeds, with fabric to her throat and a heavy black veil over her face. Curiously, Daniel found her much more fascinating in such apparel, for her eyes now wore a look of tragedy or pain that made them a mystery, one that deserved unraveling.

  But when she spoke to him she was very businesslike, and the interlude upstairs might never have happened.

  “They’re looking for you already,” she told Daniel. “I sent my maid out. They discovered you gone after that awful accident with the dynamite. Luckily, they’ve no idea when you made your escape, and they’ve no idea at all where you might have gone. I’m going to take you over the Potomac. You’ll be in Virginia when I leave you, but I warn you, the Federals are holding most of the extreme northern areas. There’s a ring of forts around Washington. There’s a farm over the river where I go regularly to buy my eggs. I’ll get you there. If we’re caught, I’ll deny all knowledge that you were with me. I have to. Do you understand that?”

  “We understand. We won’t jeopardize your disguise,” Daniel assured her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She was about to crawl into the wagon. Daniel tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around. “Did Louis go nighty night?” he asked very politely.

  She stared at him and then smiled slowly. “Just like a babe, Colonel. Just like a babe. Let’s go now, before I change my mind about getting you there.”

  Priscilla crawled up to drive her wagon, and Daniel sank back into the hay.

  The wagon began to rock and roll.

  Covered with the straw and deeply nestled into it, Daniel could see little. Light became more prevalent as they came across busier streets. In his mind’s eye, he tried to plot Priscilla’s course, but beneath the hay, he lost his sense of direction.

  All he knew was that the journey seemed endless. He could not see Davie or Billy; he couldn’t even see his own hands. Sometimes there was a lot of light, sometimes there was a little. Sometimes the road was smooth, and then it was rough, very rough.

  Sometimes the wagon stopped, and he could hear Priscilla’s voice as she charmed her way past the city’s guards. Each time his heart seemed to cease to beat. Then it would slam against his chest when the wagon began to move again. We owe this woman our lives, he thought.

  He heard the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves over the bridge, and then he felt that they had veered off on a rougher road.

  Then it seemed that they stopped in no time. “Colonel!” she called softly in the night.

  He crawled out of the straw, with Billy and Davie following suit. The moon was out a little more brightly, but they were alone. “Follow that road, sir, and it will take you down to Fredericksburg. There are patrols in this area, so watch yourselves. And—” She paused, then handed him an envelope. “Please see that this gets to General Lee.”

  “I’ll do that.” Daniel promised her. He frowned, looking at the envelope. “Priscilla, if we are killed or taken again—”

  “Then I will be hanged,” she finished for him. She smiled. “Don’t get killed, Colonel.”

  He swept her a low bow. “No, ma’am. I will not get killed.”

  She lifted a hand in a salute. Daniel returned it, and Billy and Davie followed his lead.

  The wagon began to clip-clop away, the sound seeming to echo in the stillness of the night.

  “Well, boys, we are almost home free!” Daniel said. “Shall we walk?”

  “Walking seems mighty fine to me, sir!” Billy told him.

  “Yessir,” Davie agreed.

  Daniel paused suddenly. A breeze had picked up in the night. He turned to the northwest. Maryland. He wanted to go back. For a moment the ache was so strong he could scarcely bear it. And it had nothing to do with revenge. It had everything to do with wanting to touch her.

  He swallowed hard, then grinned to his men. “Well, gentlemen, this is home for me.” He started walking, the others behind him.

  Twice in the night they heard the sound of horses’ hooves. They melted into the trees, off the road. Yankee patrols rode by.

  In the morning, they found a cove and slept. By afternoon, the pangs of hunger were tearing at them. Though Davie convinced Daniel he could catch a rabbit with his bare hands, Daniel convinced Davie that they couldn’t light a fire. They had to settle on some wild berries.

  By night, they walked again. With careful scavenging, Billy managed to slip an apple pie off the window-sill of a small farmhouse.

  Some small boy was probably going to take a licking for a crime for which he wasn’t guilty, Daniel reflected. They were in Virginia, but he wasn’t ready to test the loyalty of the farmers yet. One day, he’d come back and pay for the pie.

  They had been on the road for four days and nights when they heard horses’
hooves and jumped into the foliage for what seemed like the thousandth time. Daniel tried hard to see through the brush. His heart hammered hard.

  The uniforms were gray. Peering through the bushes, Daniel frowned. They weren’t just gray. They were familiar. As were some of the faces.

  “We’ve got to keep looking,” an officer said. Daniel knew the voice. “Our intelligence is certain that they’ll be coming this way, down toward Fredericksburg.”

  “What’s that?” someone demanded.

  Daniel stepped out of the bushes, grinning broadly, his hands raised. They weren’t just cavalry men. They were cavalry men who had been in his command at one time. “Don’t shoot, my friends. I believe we’re who you’re looking for.”

  “Daniel!” someone cried. A man slipped down from his horse. It was Captain Jarvis Mulraney, a neighbor from the peninsula, a good friend under Daniel’s command since the war had begun. Red-haired, freckle-faced, he looked too young to be in the war, but he was the captain of a crack group of horsemen.

  Daniel embraced him.

  “Thank God, you’re home!” Jarvis told him, beaming. “Jesu, we thought that we’d lost you for sure back in Sharpsburg!”

  “No, I’m back,” Daniel said. “And yessir, thank God. I’m home.”

  Men were dismounting from their horses all around him, embracing him. Harry Simmons, Richard MacKenzie, Robert O’Hara. He called Billy and Davie from the bushes and introduced them all around. It almost seemed like a party, right there in the road.

  Yes, he was home, he reflected.

  But there had been a piece of him lost for good back in Sharpsburg.

  The days seemed to pass endlessly for Callie. October rolled into November.

  She went into town for supplies, and she visited there with friends, but she felt strangely isolated, as if she wasn’t really a part of the community anymore.

  She received letters from all three of her brothers, Joshua, Josiah, and Jeremy, and she was grateful, for all three of them were alive and in good health. It seemed forever since she had seen them. She wrote to them frequently, but she never knew just how often they actually received the letters that she wrote.

  She never mentioned Daniel. She wouldn’t have known what to say.