Jenny's Passion

by Diane Wylie

  Jenny had ridden hard and fast. The dog kept pace with her every step of the way. Once at the cabin, Rommie had picked up Napoleon’s trail, and they had to slow down. Several times he lost the scent, and she had to dismount and look around for horseshoe prints to help him pick it up again.

  She pulled the soiled cloth from her pocket and looked at it again. It had to be the bandage she had wrapped around Captain Reynolds’ head herself. Closing her eyes, she fingered the cloth.

  Everything around her faded away to the background. David? Something was wrong. Where are you? Help me find you! But he could not help her. He was locked in a battle of his own. She sensed him out there somewhere. His anguish and frustration reached her mind, and she cried out with the power of it. There was pain—nothing now but pain and anger—it blocked him from her mind’s sight with a rush of blinding red color.

  Her eyes snapped open. That was strange. She rubbed her forehead to ease the dull ache. What was this connection she had to the man? How was it possible? She was no seer and had no known talent for things spiritual or mystical. Yet, she had clearly sensed him out there somewhere. But where and what was happening to him?

  Clicking her tongue, she urged the mare forward, following Rommie who waited a few yards ahead. They rode another three hours as darkness closed in. Straining to keep her dog in sight, Jenny noticed a change in his attitude as he began to move faster with his nose still pressed close to the ground. He had been silent and serious for so long. Now his tail was up and wagging. Occasionally he would let out a little yip of excitement. David was close. She could sense it.

  “No time to waste, Rommie. Let’s go.”

  She dismounted a short time later, tied the horse to a tree, and gestured soundlessly to Romulus, bringing him to her side. He sensed his mistress’ tension and sat obediently quiet. A light flickered through the trees ahead. The deep murmur of men’s voices drifted to her ears. It was a group of men camped for the night. Romulus had led her here. Surely David was with them. Were they Union soldiers that he had connected with? She hoped it could be true and that they would band together and help the captain return to his unit as he so desperately desired. But, if the feelings Jenny had sensed earlier were real, it would not be true.

  Drawing a deep breath, she quietly moved toward the camp. Her gun was ready in her hand, just in case. If he were with his own people, she would just leave knowing that her imagination had been working too much and that he had meant to leave without a word to her. It hurt to think that he would do that after everything that had happened, but she could handle it if she knew he was okay.

  She crept to a cluster of bushes and ducked behind them. Cautiously, with Rommie crawling beside her, she parted the vegetation for a better view. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the scream at what she saw in the small clearing. Sitting around the fire were three men in the tattered gray uniforms of the Confederate army. They had their backs to her as they ate. The roasted body of a rabbit sizzled over the fire, its aroma drifting to her hiding place. But it wasn’t the animal’s death that made Jenny feel so sick—it was the condition of the man she had been seeking.

  One the opposite side of the clearing, in the dark edges of the camp, was a solitary man with his back facing her. It was David. He was tied between two trees, his arms outstretched and wrists tightly bound with rough hemp. He was on his knees in the dirt; his dark head was bowed to his chest. Gone were his boots, jacket, everything save the tattered uniform trousers he still wore. Blood ran from ragged stripes crisscrossing his bare back. He had been savagely beaten.

  “Good thing we found us an officer. At least he had decent boots.” One of the Rebel soldiers, with a scraggly black beard, was pulling the high black boots on his feet.

  “Zeke, you said I could have his boots,” another one of the men complained.

  “That was before that black devil of a horse took off with Chester’s horse and broke his arm. The boots are mine now.”

  Jenny swallowed the bile that rose in her mouth.

  “But Chester got his saber, and I got nothin’. Can’t I have his pistol?” the man whined.

  The soldier called Zeke reached over and backhanded him across the face with a crack. “Shut up or you can just leave right now! That bastard killed Johnny and nearly strangled me. His horse broke Chester’s arm. We deserve somethin’ for that.” Zeke touched his bruised neck gingerly.

  The man she assumed was Chester cradled his arm close to his body and watched the third man wipe the blood from his mouth without expression then he called to Zeke.

  “Let’s finish that Yankee off so we can get back to camp. I need somebody to fix my arm. It’s killin’ me!”

  “Keep your pants on, Chester. He’s almost dead now. He’s got to know somethin’ I can take back to the colonel. This guy’s a captain. I’ll beat it out of him. He’ll be yellin’ Union military plans before I’m done with him.”

  “I don’t know, Zeke.” Chester sounded doubtful. “He ain’t cracked yet, and it’s been hours. He ain’t gonna tell you where the rest of them Yankees are.”

  “I ain’t done yet,” Zeke sneered. “I got a few more tricks to try.”

  Jenny stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out. She had to do something. How she wished Papa was here…or Isaac or even Jeb. They were going to kill David! She could hit them from here with her pistol, but she could only shoot one at a time. Dear God! Could she actually shoot a man—one of her own countrymen? But there was no choice.

  Time seemed to slow down. Everything became clear and focused. The tiny white flowers that sprouted in front of her as she lay down on her stomach behind the bushes were as fragile as she felt. The crackle of the campfire, the smell of roasting meat, men’s sweat, and the firelight glistening off the blood soaking David’s back stood out in sharp reality.

  Sighting along the gun barrel, she heard her father’s patient voice. “Get your finger set on the trigger, keep both eyes open, and brace your elbow.” She had to get the shot off quickly and be ready for the second shot before they could react. Jenny was so thankful now that Papa had bought her the latest pistol available. It held six shiny bullets instead of one. It didn’t have great range, but she was close enough.

  Patience now. Wait for the right moment. Her mouth went dry, and sweat trickled down between her breasts, but her hands were rock steady.

  Zeke stood and walked over to stand in front of the motionless Yankee, facing in Jenny’s direction. She could see David’s arm muscles pulled taut and straining from the weight of his body.

  Damnation! Zeke was too far away. She switched targets. The skinny man with the broken arm, named Chester, would go first. He was the closest.

  Zeke grabbed David roughly by the hair and forced his head up. The third man stood beside them to help with the torture, the grin of anticipation showing only two stained front teeth in his bearded face.

  “Wake up, you bastard!” Zeke’s fist came back and connected with a crunch to David’s jaw, snapping his head back. Then his fist pummeled into David’s stomach, over and over. Jenny heard the breath leave his lungs and saw his body jerk harshly against the ropes as each blow fell.

  Suddenly Rommie tensed beside her, and, before she could stop the dog, he leaped forward through the bushes with an unearthly howl. The gun bucked in her hand. The bullet hit Chester in the side of the head. Blood and brains splattered over the ground as he went down. Romulus attacked Zeke with snapping teeth, driving him away from David.

  Jenny was on her feet, moving through the trees, and running toward the men. The nameless Rebel ducked in front of his prisoner, effectively putting the Yankee between him and her gun. With his back to her, she was unable to see if David was even conscious. Suddenly David’s knee came up, jerking the man’s head back sharply with a dull cracking sound. The Southern soldier collapsed to the ground.

  Zeke was still on his feet, screaming, and fighting off the big brown dog with one hand. He pulled his gun into positi
on to shoot the animal, but not fast enough. Jenny’s second shot split the air. The Rebel’s chest blossomed with red.

  * * *

  David hung helplessly by his wrists, trying to suck air into his lungs. Zeke lay dying a few feet in front of him, his chest bubbling with blood as the air whistled in and out through the hole in his chest. The other Reb stared sightlessly up to the sky. His head was cocked at an unnatural angle. Their image blurred, and David’s vision darkened. He shook his head. God, he couldn’t pass out now! Jenny was here because Romulus was here. Someone had shot Zeke. He could hear the big dog whining somewhere behind him. Had she brought her father with her? Was she all right?

  As he struggled to twist his head around, his heart skipped a beat. Jenny was standing a few feet behind him, alone except for the dog. She wore a tailored, blue wool riding skirt and jacket. Her honey-colored hair was escaping from its bun at the nape of her neck. But it was her eyes he noticed the most. They were huge, dark, and glassy as she stared at the bloody figure of Chester, with his brains splattered on the ground. She was standing stock still, both arms down at her sides with the gun dangling unnoticed from her fingers. This image of Jenny was forever imprinted in his memory at that moment.

  His throat constricted. This gentle lady, who barely knew him, risked her life searching for him and killing two of her own countrymen. He was no one to her but an enemy soldier. Jennifer Winston had saved his life again. Romulus came up and licked his face, anxiously whining.

  “Jennifer,” he craned his neck to see her again. She was frozen. “Jenny,” he called again a little louder. No response. She was in a state of shock. Her eyes wide, face ashen, as she stood staring blankly at the carnage before her.

  He raged at his helplessness. How he wanted to go to her, gather her in his arms, protect her…but he was powerless. He strained at the ropes again and again until sweat popped out over his entire body, but the trees and the rope were too thick to give.

  Pulling air into his bruised lungs, he tried again. “Jenny! Can you hear me? Please! It’s David! Can you cut me down? Jenny, please! Come back to me!”

  The dog ran frantically between them barking in desperation. Still she didn’t move or respond. Finally Romulus ran to her and jumped up, putting both paws on her stomach, gently knocking her over. She went down on her bottom in the dirt and leaves with a grunt.

  * * *

  This had to be a bad dream. Bloody bodies were everywhere, and she was responsible for the carnage. I shot them! But why? Why? Her mind refused to function. There was a very good reason. There had to be.

  “Jenny?” It was David calling to her!

  “David!” Yes, David, Captain David Reynolds. He was why.

  Suddenly she was on her knees in front of him, her hands on either side of his bruised face laughing and crying. He was smiling, saying something she could not comprehend. With a sob, she leaned into him as if drawn by an unseen force.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, not caring that his blood smeared her dress. Slowly she touched her lips to his swollen eye then his bruised cheek. With a gentle finger she reached up to trace his damaged mouth.

  With infinite care, her lips met his. The saltiness of her tears mingled with the metallic taste of his blood. A strange but familiar sensation tingled in her abdomen. Compelled to respond for reasons she did not understand, she deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue so hot and slick inside her mouth.

  She felt a part of him grow hard against her stomach. It had to be his male part she thought with amazement. What else could it be in that part of his body? He had been shot, burned, and beaten, yet was still fiercely aroused. What kind of creatures were men that a kiss could affect them so? Suddenly his head dropped as if it weighed too much. His body sagged against the pressure of the unforgiving ropes.

  “David!”

  He shook his head as if he were trying to wake up.

  “It’s all right, Jennifer,” he whispered, clearly on the verge of passing out. “Please, just cut me down.”

  “Yes! Yes!” A knife, she needed a knife. She ran back to Star. Grabbing the reins, she led the horse to where David was tied. Digging through the saddlebags, her hands trembled with the urgency of her mission. Finding the object of her desperate search, she rushed to his side, sawing violently at his bonds with her knife.

  “It’s all right, my brave girl. Please calm down,” his soothing voice reassured her. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Dear Lord, you were wonderful.”

  One wrist fell free. He kept murmuring nonsense to her as she worked. The sound of his voice, though weak, reverberated through her, bringing with it a steadying, calming feeling. Finally she cut through the last strand of rough hemp and grabbed him tightly around the waist. His arms hung at his sides as they knelt together in the dirt. After a moment, his hands were running over her hair and down her back. It felt so right to be in his arms.

  “Oh, David! I thought they were going to kill you! I-I had to do it!” She sobbed before pulling back to look at him. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

  “Jennifer,” he whispered hoarsely, stroking her back gently. “You did what you had to do…and I will be forever grateful to you. They would have killed me eventually. There is no doubt about that.

  He struggled to stand, bringing her up with him. Limping badly, with her arm around him for support, David made it over to the campfire before his legs gave out on him completely.

  Jenny, still sobbing and gasping, hurried over to her saddlebags. Her soldier needed her, and she would not let him down now. She glanced over to where he lay on his stomach. His once magnificent back was bloody and raw. His head rested on his arms, and his eyes were closed.

  Returning to the fire, she found some hot water in a kettle and poured some into a cup. She dropped in the medicinal herbs and bark and let the contents steep. The remainder she poured into a bowl of water. Just performing these familiar tasks had a calming effect, and she relaxed just a little. The worst was over now…wasn’t it?

  “David?”

  He opened his good eye slowly.

  “Here, drink this.” She held a cup out to him. He drank obediently then, with a soft sigh, he laid his head back down.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Sitting beside him, Jenny gently washed his battered face with warm water. Tears burned her eyes at the damage inflicted on this man by her own countrymen.

  “How did you find me?” he asked.

  “Romulus tracked you.” Rommie’s tail thumped at the sound of his name. Lying down against David’s side, the dog nudged the soldier. David stretched out a hand and stroked the thick, soft fur.

  “What a smart dog you are, Rommie, bringing Jenny to me.”

  “Why did you leave?” She couldn’t help it; she had to know.

  Still stroking the dog, he replied slowly, “A Rebel patrol crossed your land near the cabin. It was only a matter of time before I was found there.” His hand stopped, gripping Romulus’ fur. “I’m sorry I left without thanking you for everything you’d done for me. It turns out they found me anyway. You are such a courageous woman, Jennifer Winston. What you did for me is beyond my comprehension.”

  He dropped his hand and closed his eyes as she began to wash the wounds on his back. She was glad his eyes were closed. She didn’t want him to see the tears sliding down her cheeks. The water in the bowl turned red with his blood as she worked. He stirred, and his hand came down to rest warmly on her knee. She sniffed back another round of tears.

  “Don’t cry, Jenny.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “I’m just not worth your tears. I’ve been nothing but trouble to you. I’ve caused you so much pain already. I don’t deserve all the help you’ve given me…you should not have followed me…you should have stayed home. What difference would the life of one soldier make?”

  She was shocked. Looking at his face, she could see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. He truly believed what he said!

&nbs
p; “That’s nonsense,” her voice shook a little then strengthened. “I would never do such a thing. I am a healer. All living things deserve to survive, even if they need help to do it, and that includes you, Captain Reynolds.”

  His breath hissed sharply when she began applying ointment to his back. “My best friend is dead. Dead! I wasn’t there for him. We had a pact. We would never leave the battlefield without the other…and I left.” His voice was barely a whisper. “They had a ring belonging to Jack, the only person who ever believed in me. We went to school together and enlisted together in the Seventeenth Pennsylvania the fall after graduation, a year ago. We’ve been fighting side by side ever since. God, we both made it through so many battles together…and they…they were the w-worst experiences of my life.”

  She could hear the anguish in every word he spoke. Jenny bit her lip to keep from sobbing again. “I believe in you, David,” she whispered, but she didn’t think he heard.

  “That Reb they called Zeke said he took the ring off a dead Yankee captain’s body at Mine Run. It had to be Jack. I should have been there! I should have helped Jack! It must have happened after I was shot. Jack was alive, fighting a few yards from me when I last saw him. The last thing I remember was turning to see him, still mounted in the thick of things, when the bullet hit me in the leg. Then I felt a sharp pain in my head…and the next thing I knew I woke up to see you going through my jacket.” He smiled faintly at the memory.

  She took his hand and brought it up to her lips. It, too, was bruised, cut, and scraped in places. The skin around his wrist was rubbed raw from the rope. She kissed his fingers gently then washed his hand and wrist.

  “I believe in you, David,” she said again.

  He nodded, acknowledging her words, but said, “Why did you come, Jenny? I’m nothing to you.”

  She didn’t look at him, just continued her work. Not nothing, no never nothing, not now.

  “I had to, David. It was as simple as that. I had to know you were safe…” she hesitated. At this moment she knew why she had to find him but couldn’t bring herself to say those words to him. He was a Yankee, wasn’t he? “I had to know if you left by choice. We are friends, aren’t we?”