And One Wore Gray

by Heather Graham

  “The Dunkards became my friends,” she said softly. She didn’t add that they had done so when no one else seemed to care if she lived or died. “I have to tell them that I’m leaving. There’s no treachery involved, I swear it.”

  “I’ll stop, and you may have five minutes to speak with them. I’ll keep the baby.”

  “Helga delivered him for me—”

  “I’ll keep the baby. It’s my last offer. Take it or leave it.”

  Damn him. She managed to keep her mouth closed, very aware that nothing could deter him when he spoke in that tone of voice. She pointed the way down the road to Rudy’s small farmstead.

  As he had said he would do, he stopped a certain distance from the house. He dismounted from the roan, and his hands circled around her waist once again. He lifted her down, but once her feet had touched the ground, he released her. The warmth of his touch was gone.

  He took Jared from her arms. He did so easily, with no awkwardness. He didn’t even waken his sleeping son.

  “Say good-bye to them, Callie. Quickly. For all I know, you could be planning on having them send someone after us. I’m warning you. If I have to run, I’ll run with Jared. And I’m good at getting where I want to go.”

  “I’m not warning anyone about anything,” Callie said irritably. “I’m saying good-bye to people who were very good to me. And to your son.”

  She didn’t wait for his reply, but hurried toward the small, simple house. She knocked quickly on the door. Rudy answered it, crying out when he saw her. “What’s wrong? What has happened? Where is the baby? Are you all right, Frau Michaelson?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, and the baby is just outside. I’m—I’m leaving the area for a while. I just came to say goodbye. And to thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”

  She could see past the plain entryway and into the house. It was barren of decoration in any form, and still it was warm. A fire crackled in the hearth, and simple wood furnishings were set around it. From the kitchen, Callie could see Helga hurrying out to greet her.

  “Callie! Where’s mein kinder?”

  “Jared is just outside. I’m leaving for a while. I’m taking Jared south.”

  “South!” Helga exclaimed. “But there is so much danger in the South—”

  “Helga!” Callie interrupted, smiling. “Twice we have been in the path of a battle here! I don’t think that I can find a place with greater danger!” Impulsively she hugged the older woman. “I’ll be all right, I promise. I just came to say good-bye, so that you wouldn’t worry about me.”

  Helga hugged her warmly in return. “I will worry about you anyway, child. I will miss you.”

  “I will miss you, too, Helga. I thank you so very much for all that you have done for me.”

  “What we have done? Bah. We have all looked out after one another, yes?”

  “You are going with the child’s father?” Rudy said disapprovingly.

  “Rudy! She must do what she feels is right. And surely, it will be right. God will see to it, soon enough. You go, and you take care of yourself.” She smoothed her hand tenderly over Callie’s cheek.

  Rudy sighed. He still didn’t like the fact that Callie was leaving. “I will look after the farm, Frau Michaelson. I will look after it carefully.”

  “Thank you. But you musn’t make yourself too much more work.”

  “Work, what work?” He threw his hands into the air. “There are no animals left to work for!” He took her from his wife’s arms, and hugged her warmly. Callie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll come back,” she promised. “When the war is over.”

  She turned and fled, amazed at how attached she had become to the elderly couple. It was worse than leaving her own home. She didn’t dare take any more time, though. Daniel was waiting.

  When she came back into the yard, Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

  Fear stormed into her heart, stark and vivid. She swirled in the pale light that radiated from the Weiss home, looking feverishly about her.

  He had warned her that he would take the baby. He had threatened to take the baby if she didn’t return quickly enough.

  No! Oh, God, no! This couldn’t be his revenge!

  “Daniel!” She shrieked his name, heedless of the sound, heedless of the night. Tears sprang to her eyes and she started to run in the darkness, tearing for the road. “No, oh no, oh no, Daniel!” Her breath came raggedly, desperately. She swirled around in the road again, unable to see him anywhere.

  “Daniel!”

  She almost fell, doubling over with panic and pain. She heard hoofbeats, and then the sound of his voice.

  “I’m right here, Callie! Would you hush? You’ll wake the dead Yanks nearby as well as the living ones!”

  She straightened, and blinked away her tears. He had emerged from the side of the road, Jared in his arms, leading his horse. Jared, miraculously, still slept.

  Callie rushed to Daniel’s side and looked down at her sleeping son. She itched to snatch him back from his father, but she refrained.

  She felt Daniel’s fingers on her cheek, and met his gaze, startled. There was a gentleness in his touch. Almost a reassurance.

  “You really love him,” he said softly.

  “More than life,” she agreed.

  He handed the baby carefully back into her arms. She was silent as his hands slipped around her waist and he lifted her back onto the roan horse. Silently, and with perfect agility, he leapt up behind her. Once again, the lean horse bore them down the trail.

  “You said your good-byes?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “And you won’t look back?”

  “I’m not looking back.”

  He fell silent. They plodded along.

  The night was dark. There were few stars in the skies. It was cool, with the promise of rain, and then it seemed to become hot and muggy with the same promise.

  They moved very slowly. Daniel stopped time and time again, listening.

  Sometimes he reined in and paused, rising in his stirrups, looking around them. Callie didn’t know what he saw. She could see nothing at all, except for the Stygian darkness.

  They rode on.

  Callie grew tired. Jared’s weight seemed to grow with each heavy plod of the horse’s hooves. She felt her eyes closing, and she fought to keep them open.

  She felt herself easing back against Daniel. She didn’t want to do so. She wanted to ride with her back straight and her head high. She couldn’t quite manage it. She leaned against the warm living strength of his chest, and the warmth and comfort there became more and more inviting. Her eyes began to close. She couldn’t sleep, she warned herself. She might drop the baby.

  No, Daniel would never let her drop the baby.

  A curious sensation swept along her spine. She wasn’t alone anymore. There were two of them concerned for Jared.

  She blinked hard. She shouldn’t sleep.

  Daniel reined in. She tried very hard to open her eyes. The darkness remained.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.

  “We’re still in Maryland, Mrs. Michaelson,” he said softly. “We’ll sleep here tonight.”

  She tried to open her eyes more widely. “Here? Where are we? We’re nowhere.”

  He dismounted from the horse, and reached for her. “We’re in the wilderness, my love. And this is where we shall sleep tonight.”

  He set her down upon the ground, then immediately turned and began to unbuckle the girth on the horse; “Go ahead and find a tree. Curl up.”

  Callie stared at him blankly. He turned around, the saddle in his hand, and laughed when he saw her forlorn face.

  “Come here, Mrs. Michaelson.”

  He carried the saddle in his one hand, and with the other, he led her along. From nearby, she could hear the soft sounds of a bubbling brook. Daniel dropped the saddle by the base of an old oak tree. He released Callie and headed back to his horse, brought down the blanket and both his saddlebag
s and the ones Callie had brought, and led the horse to the side of the road where rich long grasses grew.

  He tethered the horse loosely to a tree, and returned to Callie’s side once again.

  “We needed to leave my house quickly so that we could come and sleep here?” she said.

  “There’s a beautiful sky for a roof, grass for a bed, sweet air to breathe,” Daniel told her. “And there are no Yankees here. None to have to keep an eye on.”

  “You’re wrong,” she reminded him. “I’m a Yankee.”

  “Excuse me. There’s only one Yankee here,” he said. He touched her chin. “And I will keep my eye on her,” he said, his voice husky.

  She turned away from him. He tossed her a blanket and she did her best to stretch it out and maintain her hold on the baby. Daniel made an impatient sound and came and stretched it out for her.

  She lay down, her back to him, easing Jared to her side. She stretched a protective arm around him, as if he could roll away in the darkness.

  She felt her baby moving. Felt the subtle rise and fall of his little chest. Her fingers moved over the ink-dark hair. He still hadn’t awakened. She touched his cheek. She felt the always overwhelming sense of love for him invade her.

  She closed her eyes. She was so weary. It had been such a long night. They had ridden so far.

  He had come back into her life.

  She hated him. She loved him.

  The darkness seemed to close in around her. She started to shiver, cuddling Jared even closer. Summer days were hot. It was amazing that night could be so cold.

  Her shivers increased. She was shaking so violently that she started to fear she would wake the baby.

  She started to rise, but suddenly there was warmth all around her.

  Daniel was stretching out beside her. “Dammit, Callie, what is the matter?”

  “I’m cold!” she cried softly.

  He brought her back down with him, his arm around her, warm and secure.

  His hand, so large and bronze and powerful, rested protectively around her and on top of the blanket bundling their son.

  Callie’s shivers slowly ceased.

  A smile curved her lips. She slept, as easily, as sweetly, as Jared.

  3

  Bittersweet Revenge

  ———— Nineteen ————

  The journey southward was long and tedious.

  Despite the very late hour at which they had stopped, Daniel woke Callie early. Not long after she had finally fallen asleep, the baby had awakened, hungry, and so she had spent time up with him. She was very tired when Daniel woke her. She had a headache, her throat was dry, and her hair was in a wild tangle. She could barely struggle into a sitting position, bringing the baby up with her.

  It didn’t help any that Daniel laughed at her when she turned reproachful eyes his way.

  “Up!” he commanded her. “If we get going now, I’ll make coffee a little way down the road.”

  He reached for Jared, and Callie surrendered the baby to his father. To her surprise, the baby was awake. He wasn’t crying—he watched both her and Daniel pensively.

  “There’s a creek right down there,” Daniel advised her, inclining his head down the slope from the road. With his free hand, he helped her to her feet.

  Callie searched through her set of saddlebags for her brush and toothbrush, both of which were showing sad signs of wear, but then again, in comparison to the supplies that Daniel carried, they seemed to be in exceptionally fine condition.

  She bit into her lip, not wanting to look back at Daniel. She could too clearly remember the imprint of his body next to her own as they had slept. With the morning’s light, she was once again reminded that no amount of wear or tear really seemed to tarnish her wayward cavalier. He had shaven before he had awakened her, scrubbed his hands and face, and doused his ink-dark hair. The hollows in his cheeks were deeper than she had remembered. More tiny lines were etched around his eyes. And still, she loved his face. More gaunt, it merely appeared more noble.

  She walked down to the creek, branches catching at her skirt, wondering again how it was possible to hate and resent someone so very much and also love him all the while.

  There was little she could do for her own appearance, but the cool water felt good, and she took the time to brush out her hair. When she reached the road once again, Daniel was ready to ride.

  The morning passed silently. When she would have spoken, he shushed her. When the baby cried at last, Daniel urged her to quiet him quickly. Lee’s entire army might be heading this way, but there might well be Yankee patrols following in its path. Skirmishing was sure to take place, and Daniel was determined to avoid either army.

  Biting into her lower lip, she loosed the buttons on her bodice to feed the baby while they rode. She had promised herself that she would demand her privacy in all things. This decision was quickly falling apart. But Daniel seemed heedless even of her presence as she fed the baby. He merely grunted his approval when she whispered later that Jared slept once again.

  He had promised her coffee, but she was certain that it was at the very least late afternoon when he reined in on the road and dismounted. He did so easily. When he lifted her down, she staggered and would have fallen with Jared if Daniel hadn’t supported her. She was riot accustomed to hour after hour in the saddle.

  Her stomach was growling. She’d had soup the night before—Daniel, she was certain, had paused for nothing on his way to reach her. How could he go so long and so far on nothing?

  The war, she thought. As always, these days, it seemed that the answer to any question was the same.

  He had stopped where she could hear the nearby gurgle of a creek once again. When she could stand on her own he led the horse through the trees to reach it, and Callie followed behind with the baby. The water looked delicious and she quickly sat down beside it. Holding the baby close against her chest, she cupped one hand to scoop up the cool liquid.

  She looked behind her to discover that Daniel had cleared a spot of ground on which to build a fire. Quickly and competently, he drew coffee and a tin pot from a saddlebag, took water from the brook, and set the coffee to brew.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked Callie.

  She nodded, aware that he had really forgotten that people usually ate three times a day, beginning with breakfast.

  He dug further into the bag, and came out with a pair of heavy square biscuits. He handed her one. Hardtack, she thought. A soldier’s staple. But even as she looked at the biscuit, a tiny worm crawled out from it. Then another, and another.

  She swallowed hard, allowing the biscuit to fall.

  “Sorry,” he said huskily.

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen worms before. Just not—just not so many,” she finished. She handed him back the biscuit. “I’m really not that hungry.”

  He stared at the biscuit, then seemed suddenly furious. He tossed it away in a wide arc.

  “Jesu! This is what we’re reduced to!” He inhaled and exhaled raggedly. “It won’t be like this at home. The river is teeming with fish. We’ve livestock in abundance. So many ducks you can hardly imagine them, and enough chickens for an army—”

  He broke off, twisting his jaw. They both knew that if any army had been through the peninsula—even Daniel’s own army—there was probably nothing left at Cameron Hall either.

  Jared opened his wide blue eyes and smiled at his mother. He didn’t seem to care about the food supply. He didn’t need to care, not yet, Callie thought. But a few more days of nothing, and she might well fail in her efforts to feed him.

  Daniel was watching the baby. Jared flailed out with his tiny hands and Daniel suddenly reached over. Little fingers curled around his larger one. Daniel smiled, much like his son. Callie felt a tug at her heart as she realized that Daniel had never decided to take the baby for revenge. He loved Jared. Maybe he couldn’t love the baby the same way that she did. He hadn’t borne him, hadn’t held him from the very start. But
he loved him, nonetheless.

  “I think that the coffee’s ready,” Callie said.

  His gaze met hers. Blue. Speculative. “So it is,” he said. He went over to the pot, and a moment later he was back with a tin cup. Callie laid the baby in her lap, and took the cup from Daniel. The coffee was curiously good, or else it was simply delicious because it was a different taste from water, all that she had had. She sipped it, savoring it. She looked at Daniel, who was watching her.

  “You’re not having any?”

  He shrugged. “A soldier’s mess carries only one cup,” he said.

  She flushed, passing it back to him.

  “There’s plenty of coffee in the pot. Finish that.”

  She did so, then passed back the tin cup. He left her, poured himself a cup of coffee, drank it, then immediately began to put out the fire and return his belongings to his saddlebag. Callie watched him, then realized that he wanted to start riding again and roused herself. “I need to change the baby,” she told him, and dug through her own belongings for one of the diapers she had made for Jared. Daniel had moved so quickly, and she tried to do the same. Finishing with the baby, she paused, but just briefly. She set him into Daniel’s arms to hurry down to the creek to rinse out his old diaper. It could dry while they rode.

  Daniel handed her back the baby, set her on the horse, and they were on their way once again. She realized that they were going very slowly, but as nightfall neared, they had reached the Potomac River.

  Daniel halted, staring out over the river. She followed behind him. Despite the war, the view was still beautiful, the mountains rising high over the water and the valleys, the colors of summer so rich and green and blue.

  But Daniel wasn’t seeing the beauty of it.

  “The Yanks must be holding Harpers Ferry again,” he mused. “This bridge is out. The water is swollen from all the rain. We’ll have to find somewhere else to ford the river.”

  Callie nodded, but shivered. When night came, so did a chill, despite the fact that it was summer.

  “Cold?” he asked her.