Jenny's Passion

by Diane Wylie

  David was reluctant to lay down his gun but saw no alternative. He did what Miller commanded. As he went to place the pistol with the other two guns, Thomas reached out and punched him in the belly in a surprise attack, forcing him backward and driving the air from his lungs in a rush as he collapsed on the floor.

  Jack leaped onto Miller’s back, wrestling him away from David and knocking the big man to the ground. When Phillip lunged for a weapon, David, trying desperately to breathe, helplessly watched Forrester immediately shift the knife, drawing it down Jenny’s arm. She screamed, and something metal clattered on the wooden floor.

  “The bitch tried to pull a gun,” Forrester spat out.

  Lightning flashed again, and everyone froze. The only sounds were Jenny’s sobs and David’s labored attempt to get some air into his lungs.

  “Montgomery, get away from Captain Miller…now!” Forrester yelled. He pointed at Phillip with the knife. “You! Don’t even think about getting’ one o’ them guns if you wants yer daughter to stay in one piece! Reynolds, don’t you even twitch!”

  Blood ran down Jenny’s arm through the long rent in her white robe, but she didn’t move. Silas grabbed her opposite hand and raised it in front of him, squeezing her wrist.

  “I’ll cut off her fingers next, Reynolds. So you better tell these friends of yours to behave.”

  Tears ran down her face.

  David scrambled to his feet with fists clenched. “Jenny, are you all right?” he managed to ask.

  “Y-yes, it is just a small cut,” she responded, her voice trembling.

  “Please, we have to do what he wants.” Phillip’s face was white and stark with fear in the dim lamplight.

  David raised his hands, palm out in surrender. “What do you want, Thomas? You came here to kill me, didn’t you?” He stepped between Miller and Jenny, holding his arms straight out from his sides, offering his unprotected heart to his former aide. “Go ahead. I’ll surrender without a fight. Just let my wife and everyone else go.”

  “No, David!” Jenny screamed.

  “Dere won’t be no need fer dat, Cap’n,” a new voice broke in. There was a thump, and suddenly Jeb was gently pulling Jenny away from Forrester, who lay crumpled on the floor with a knife handle protruding from his back. She clung to the old black man.

  “Yo’ is safe now, chile,” Jeb was saying, patting her back.

  In the split second that followed that statement, David immediately regretted taking his attention from Miller. Once again Thomas’ boot connected with his body, catching him full force in the knee, sending him sprawling into Jack and Phillip. The three men went down to the floor in a tangle.

  Glass shattered, letting the wind and rain lash wildly into the library and letting Thomas Miller out.

  He was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dawn was breaking. A soft, rosy glow touched every blade of grass and every colorful autumn leaf. David pulled his jacket closer around him against the nip in the air. Napoleon snorted and tossed his head, eager to be moving again. A sharp woof from Romulus caught David’s attention.

  “Let’s go! He’s got the trail again!” he shouted to the others.

  The big brown dog hurried along eagerly, with his nose close to the ground, emitting little yips of excitement, loving the hunt. They followed Rommie easily, with Phillip and Jack bringing up the rear.

  No one questioned David’s need to take the leadership role in this hunt. The other men knew the rage, born of betrayal and the attack on his wife that seethed in their friend. He had saved each of them from prison, and they would follow him as if they were under his military command.

  David chafed at the slow pace required to trail the man. Miller had had a good two-hour head start and could be headed anywhere—back to the Seventeenth Pennsylvania or to his Confederate contacts—he just didn’t know the path his former aide would take.

  Leaving Jenny injured and upset had left him extremely unsettled. That familiar wild feeling he got in battle was sneaking into his being. David ground his teeth and silently urged the dog on faster each time they had to stop, give Romulus a fresh whiff of the hat that Thomas had left behind, and wait for the animal to find the trail again.

  “We must be getting closer. Romulus is getting more and more excited.” Phillip’s voice reflected his own excitement.

  Jumping Napoleon over a fallen log, David urged the big horse on to keep up with the dog. Romulus was running now, faster and faster. His long, brown fur undulated around him as he leaped and twisted around trees and rocks. Behind him, Jack and Phillip concentrated on keeping their own horses under them and David in sight.

  It was mid-afternoon, but the air was cool. The fallen leaves crunched loudly under the horse’s hooves. They would not be catching Miller by surprise. The best hope they had would be to overtake the man.

  Ahead came a surprised yip, and he caught sight of Rommie trying desperately to jump over a big tan-colored object in his path. The dog ended up tumbling over the mound but scrambled to his feet immediately.

  “Whoa!”

  He exerted steady pressure on the reins to stop the horse before the two of them followed the dog’s example. Napoleon snorted his displeasure at the abrupt stop and tossed his head.

  “What is it?” Jack reined up beside his friend who was staring down at the bloated shape.

  “It looks like we found Miller’s horse.”

  “Damn. He rode it to death!” Jack was incredulous. “How can a cavalryman do something like that?”

  Phillip joined them, shaking his head in disgust. “Apparently your Lieutenant Miller is capable of just about anything. If he can betray and murder his fellow soldiers, he would spare no sympathy for this poor animal.”

  “He is on foot now.” David frowned. “Time to move on, quickly now.”

  Rommie began to whine and run back and forth with his nose inches from the ground. Then he let out a sharp bark and took off running through the trees. The men on horseback followed.

  As they broke out of the trees, the dog was bounding through the tall, yellow wheat, closing quickly on a man in a dark blue Yankee uniform. The man was hatless, and his red hair glinted in the late afternoon sun as he ran.

  “Go, Napoleon, faster!” he urged the big horse to a full gallop with his knees.

  Suddenly Lieutenant Miller stopped, turned, and fired. David flattened himself low against the horse’s neck and whistled to call off the dog’s headlong pursuit. A quick smell of gunpowder, along with the scent of hot horseflesh filled his nostrils. Behind him there was a shout. He twisted in the saddle in time to see Phillip Winston grab his shoulder, topple off his horse into the wheat, and disappear from view. Jack whirled his horse around, waving as he headed back.

  “Go on!” Jack yelled.

  More shots zinged past David’s head, buzzing like bees in his ear. That was three, four, five, six shots; Thomas had to reload now. Napoleon didn’t falter a step as the gunfire rained around him, and the wheat bent before his barrel chest. They were only feet from their target now.

  David launched himself up and out of the saddle at the soldier, driving the man off his feet, and knocking the ammunition and gun from Miller’s hands. The tumbling men were swallowed up in a cocoon of crunchy wheat stalks.

  Although Miller was the heavier of the two, David was stronger and soon had the edge in their hand-to-hand combat. A red-hot rage was taking over now that his betrayer was in his grasp. Hard blows to the head and body were exchanged, each man fighting with everything he had.

  David took a blow to the ribs, grunted, and smashed his fist into Thomas’ face, feeling the pulpy crunch of bone and the hot splatter of blood on his hand. As he drew back for another blow, Thomas grabbed his nose as blood spewed between his fingers.

  “Ye broke me nose, ya bastard!”

  Under him the man twisted in pain, rolling his face away to prevent further damage. With disgust, David pushed both hands against his chest roughly, shoving
him down into the grain and stood up over the writhing man. There were absolutely no feelings of affection left in as he watched his former friend and confidant. Casually pulling his gun, he pointed the barrel at Miller’s chest.

  “Get to your feet!”

  He nudged the man with his foot, barely restraining the urge to kick him as he had been kicked. Reaching into his jacket pocket, David drew out the blue bandanna he had used weeks ago to protect his blind eyes, wiped the blood from his hand, and tossed the bandanna to Thomas.

  “Here! Now get up and get moving.”

  Pressing the cloth to his bleeding nose, Miller scowled up at him but didn’t move. Reaching down, David grabbed the front of his uniform and hauled the spy to his feet.

  “Go,” he said, shoving his prisoner hard in the direction where Phillip had gone down.

  Rommie had evidently decided that Captain Reynolds had the matter of his prey well in hand and was also heading back through the tall wheat towards Mr. Winston and Jack.

  The bright blond head lifted towards them as they approached, crunching golden stalks underfoot. Jack looked at Miller’s bleeding face and nodded in satisfaction. His hand held a piece of cloth on the older man’s shoulder.

  “How are you doing, Mr. Winston?” David asked without taking his eyes from their captive.

  “I’ll live,” Phillip replied. “It isn’t bad, just got grazed.” He nodded at the Irishman. “Now what are you planning to do with him? String him up here?” David’s father-in-law shook his gray head ruefully. “What kind of man are you, sir?” Phillip addressed Miller. “Southerners are not thieves and spies.”

  Thomas’ voice was muffled by the bloody cloth when he replied, “I, sir, am not Southern. Born in Ireland, I was, and lived in New York City. Y’ Rebs think ye’re so honorable and upright. Ha! Ye are willin’ enuff to pay for what ye want. Me’self, I think that the South needs to be separate from the Union—ye and the darkies kin just stay where ye be. Ye sir, are a bloody traitor t’ the South—sidin’ w’ Yankees!” He coughed, leaned over, and spit out a mouthful of blood.

  Phillip’s face reddened angrily. Reaching out, David grabbed Thomas’ arm, giving him a shake. “That will be enough, Miller. One more word out of you and I just may have to take action you will regret.” He pointed the gun at his knee. “I plan to take you in alive but not necessarily in one piece.”

  Phillip glared from his seat on the ground. “Helping my son-in-law bring the man who blinded him to justice is not what I consider an act of treason, sir.”

  Jack finished bandaging Phillip’s arm with the supplies Kizzie had sent with them and helped him to his feet. Then he walked over to Lieutenant Miller and stood looking at his swollen mass of a nose. Smiling grimly Jack pushed his fingers through his blond, wavy hair and heaved a sigh. “You know, Miller, I am starting to suspect that you were involved with my own capture at Mine Run.”

  Miller mumbled something into the cloth.

  David prodded him with the gun. “Speak up, man!”

  Taking away the cloth, Thomas aimed a red and bloody grin at Jack. “It were Forrester who did that deed. Pretty braw idea, I thought. We tried to get the both of ye that day, but Reynolds’ damn horse took off w’ him. Ye were both too smart. Couldn’t have ye findin’ me out, now could I?”

  “Why, you bastard!” Jack leaped for the man, took him down into the wheat, and began to do exactly as David had done earlier. Miller fought back. The two men rolled and cursed and hit each other.

  David stood and watched, allowing Jack to take out some of his anger as Phillip looked on with amusement. Both occasionally let loose a few words of encouragement for Jack. Grunts, thuds, and the sound of crunching wheat accompanied the evenly matched fight. Rommie barked excitedly.

  Finally David aimed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The sound of gunfire interrupted the fighters, making them stop in position, gasping for air.

  “Jack,” he reached a hand out to pull his friend to his feet, “it’s time we got on with the job. Let’s get this traitor back to face trial.”

  * * *

  Jenny paced back forth in front of her father’s finely polished mahogany desk with one hand gesturing angrily, and the other immobilized in a sling fashioned from a brightly flowered silk scarf. “He let you ride back home alone and injured!”

  Coming to a stop in front of the fireplace, she whirled on her heel, her green day dress tangling around her ankles as she pivoted and headed back again. Romulus whined softly, disturbed by his mistress’ raised voice. “I cannot believe that he would do that, Papa! For what possible reason could David be so callous and heartless?”

  Phillip put his glass of whiskey down with a thump. “Jennifer!” he shouted. She stopped dead still and looked at him, shocked. “I am not a helpless old man unable to fend for himself. Will you stop pacing up and down and listen to me?”

  Shame washed over her in a hot rush. Her father was barely home, he was covered with trail dust, dried blood was still caked on his jacket sleeve, and here she was being a horrible shrew. “I’m sorry, Papa. I am sure you are tired and hungry. I’ll get you some food and see to your injury. I apologize.”

  “I’ll take care of those things in a moment. First I need to give you this letter from David.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it across the desk toward her.

  Jenny stood, staring at the slightly grimy paper on top of the polished surface as if she were waiting for it to burst into flame. Her father’s big hand settled gently on her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed him get out of the chair.

  “I don’t know what he wrote to you, sweetheart. I didn’t read it, but I do know that he loves you deeply. You two belong together. I know love when I see it, honey. It was my good fortune to have experienced wonderful love like that twice in my lifetime. I doubt I shall be so fortunate a third time. David is the most honorable and upstanding man I know, even if he is a Yankee. Please read his letter, but, Jennifer…let go of the anger in your heart before you do.”

  “Oh, Papa,” she turned away from the letter, hugged him around the waist with her free hand, and rested her head on his chest. “How did you get to be so wise, and how did I get to be so foolish? I know you’re absolutely right, it’s just…just so hard.”

  Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he kissed the back of it lightly. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I am going to get Kizzie to help me heat some water for a bath in the kitchen. She can take care of my shoulder and fix me something to eat too. Take your time and we can talk later, if you wish.”

  After her father left, closing the library doors quietly behind him, she picked up the letter and carefully carried it to her favorite reading spot, the wingback chair next to the window. Lighting the oil lamp against the fading daylight, she took a deep breath. Romulus padded across the floor and pushed his wet nose into her knee.

  “Rommie, sweetie.” She bent and hugged the shaggy neck, rubbing her check against the top of his head. His tail thumped against her leg.

  “My furry friend, you have been a great treasure to me,” she whispered to the animal. The anger flowed away with each heartbeat. How could she stay angry with David? She loved the man more than life itself. It was impossible to be angry with the man who had saved her father from prison and saved her life from a watery end. He was her husband now, part of her body and soul.

  Releasing the dog, she sat up and looked at the innocent piece of paper. Would she feel better or worse after reading the missive? The burning sensation in her injured arm became noticeable again. She rubbed the spot and picked up the letter.

  My Darling Jenny,

  I wish you knew how much my arms ache to hold you right now. Each time I leave you, I leave a part of myself behind. I had to do what I did. I could not allow you to accompany me. After all the danger you have been exposed to because of me, I could not face the idea that you could be exposed to yet another hazardous situation.

  Thomas Miller is now in our custody. Ja
ck and I will be escorting him to the headquarters of the Union army to face judgment. We have triumphed in that regard, thanks to your brave father and your fine tracking dog.

  I pray that you and Phillip will recover from your injuries with no further complications.

  Please forgive me, my dearest, for not returning to you just yet. I have spent far too many days neglecting my duties and must return to my command for the duration of the war. I must do this for my country and for the men who serve beside me. It is my sworn duty. It is the only way I can live with myself for the rest of my days on this earth.

  Keep me in your heart, dreams, and prayers until I return. Remember that I will love you always.

  Your Devoted Husband,

  David

  Gone! So soon…and with no plans to return until the end of this horrible war! The aching despair and hurt filled her chest until she could contain it no longer. David had chosen duty over love, risk over safety, and had done the honorable thing. He had, in fact, chosen the Southern way. Was it any wonder that she loved this Yankee beyond all reason? But this love came at such a high price! Glad to be alone in the dimly lit library, she buried her face in her free hand and let the hot tears flow. The letter slid to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  December 19, 1864

  Gordonsville, Virginia

  The sun shone brightly, incongruous with the tragedy occurring in this valley in Gordonsville, Virginia. Cannons once again spit out their deadly projectiles with hideous precision, belching thick acrid smoke that blanketed the area. Gunfire and the screams of men and horses added to the confusion and terror as thousands of men struggled for survival and victory in deadly combat.

  Napoleon leaped and danced under David, responding like a finely tuned instrument to his smallest command. There was no time to reload his empty weapon, so his sword slashed and cut any gray uniform in sight. Each blow jolted up his arm. Clenching his teeth, he became an unwilling warrior once more. He parried and twisted to avoid harm from bayonets and bullets, blocking out all conscious thought that could be deadly to a soldier. React and respond as you were trained, that was the best way to stay alive. Just as his cavalry horse responded to his command, so David responded to the primitive animal inside him that commanded him to fight.