Glory Bound (Shades of Gray Serial Civil War Trilogy Book 3)

by Jessica James

  “You are worried about me?” Hunter tried hard to make his voice sound unemotional.

  Andrea did not answer and stared straight ahead, obviously annoyed that she had let down her guard and voiced her concern.

  Hunter tried to act unmoved at her coldness, but he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake. She aroused so many old memories and uncertainties, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to endure the ordeal to come.

  “Where are we going?” she asked after a few moments silence.

  “You’ll see.” He reached into the back of the wagon and pulled out a woolen cloak. “You may need this.”

  Andrea looked with cool scrutiny at his offering and then accepted it without a word. Pulling the garment on, she immediately pulled up the hood—an action Hunter decided was more to hide her emotions than to protect against any chill.

  Within moments, the gentle sway of the wagon caused her head to slump, and within a few miles, she was leaning against Hunter’s shoulder in a deep, apparently much needed, sleep.

  Chapter 13

  For all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, ‘it might have been.’

  – John Greenleaf Whittier

  Andrea, wake up. We’re here.” Andrea opened her eyes with great effort. “We’re where?” She looked around sleepily, though it was now too dark to see any of her surroundings.

  “Where we were going.” Hunter jumped from the wagon, cursing when his leg hit the ground. Putting his hands around Andrea’s waist, he lifted her easily from the seat. Even with his injuries and weariness, he seemed to her like a giant in strength. Yet she thought she felt him trembling once her feet were on the ground.

  Andrea’s eyes went to the back of the wagon where a saddle horse stood tied, munching contentedly on hay. She had no idea where it came from or when it had been acquired.

  “You must have been very tired,” Hunter said, seeing her questioning stare. He took her hand and led her through the darkness.

  They had proceeded only a few steps when Andrea stopped. “What are we doing here?”

  “I told you. We need to talk. Go inside.”

  “I’ll not!” Andrea crossed her arms and planted her feet

  “I insist.” Taking her gently but firmly by the arm, Hunter guided her into the same cabin where they had found refuge from the storm. Although Andrea could see every effort had been made to erase any evidence of the past, the crushing weight of memories descended upon her the instant she inhaled its musty smell.

  “I do not see why you deemed it necessary to bring me here.”

  “I needed to find a place with privacy,” came the steady reply from behind her as he lit a lamp.

  She whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing. “I could have found an empty tent for privacy.”

  “I needed a place where you couldn’t get away.”

  “You will never find that.” Andrea watched Hunter wince as the lamp came to life, and the pain in his eyes made her instantly sorry she had spoken. For the first time in her life, she thought she saw fear flash across the intrepid soldier’s eyes.

  He swallowed hard as if nerving himself forward in a futile charge. “I-I know I have done you a grave injustice.”

  Andrea tried to sound nonchalant, as if the pain of the last months had not made her long to die. “Fate and the war have dealt me a number of injustices, Colonel. I’ve not had the time to contemplate them individually—nor do I care to do so now.”

  “Andrea, I know I’ve hurt you deeply.”

  Andrea threw her hands up in frustration. “Must we discuss this? I accept being a casualty of war if that is your desire. Nothing more.”

  “A casualty of war? You don’t think about the past? Of Hawthorne?”

  Hunter stood right behind her now. Andrea moved forward, unable to stand the nearness. All the strength of her spirit rebelled against allowing herself to think about the memories he evoked. “The past is a world to which we cannot return. Hawthorne was a thousand years ago and as far from my mind.”

  “You cannot mean that.” Hunter sounded hurt and confused. “Never for a moment could I force myself to forget you. The thought of you consumes me.”

  Andrea’s insides reeled. No, I don’t mean that, she thought to herself as she unconsciously touched the pendant she still wore next to her heart How many minutes of how many hours and how many weeks and months had she yearned for him—yet dreaded ever seeing him again?

  She remained silent, staring at the floor and praying it would open up and swallow her. She could not allow him to know the agony he had caused her, and did not want to trust him not to cause that misery again. She must end this here and now. Yet the thought of never seeing him again sent a chill down her spine.

  “You say you don’t care, yet you are trembling.” He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, and she jumped as if a lightning bolt had struck out of a cloudless sky.

  “Don’t touch me, I implore you.” Andrea stepped away. She felt her emotions surging as all of the pain and anguish she had endured welled up inside her. Tears formed and spilled down her cheeks. She put her face in her hands to hide and sobbed like a child. “You bring up things I do not wish to recall. I am not sufficiently strong to banish such memories!”

  “Do you think I want to remember what I said to you? What I did to you? I was a fool!”

  Andrea tried to hold back the tears, but there were too many now. She no longer had the power to control her emotions like she once had. The war had stolen that ability from her.

  “My words should not wound. I seek to heal.” Hunter turned her around and encircled her in his arms. “Andrea, I beg of you, please say you’ll forgive me.”

  Andrea could barely breathe in the tightness of his embrace. She felt his heart pounding wildly against her cheek, felt that manly, prodigious strength she had longed for and never believed she would ever feel again. The sanctuary and strength of his arms felt so good around her—so powerful, yet so gentle, so comforting and so reassuring.

  But when she thought of the pain he had caused her, she rallied her strength and pushed him away. “I do not request your pity or your regret, Colonel Hunter. What’s done is done. We cannot return to the past, nor lament over what could or should or might have been.”

  “But we can begin again.”

  “We cannot. Too much has happened.” Andrea fought through a haze of feelings and desires that made her unwilling to face him, yet unwilling to turn way. Nothing is the same.”

  “Much has happened. But little has changed. Come back with me to Hawthorne. I will show you.”

  Andrea struggled to remain strong. “Wish what you will. As for me, I have no way of judging the future but by the past—and it is not a place to which I wish to return.” She almost wept afresh when she beheld his expression before he lowered his head.

  “You would not say that if you knew what you meant to me.” His voice cracked with emotion.

  “I believe I learned quite sufficiently what I meant to you in my last few minutes at Hawthorne,” Andrea replied unemotionally. “Please do not feel you must reiterate those thoughts for me tonight, because I can assure you my memory serves me overly well in that regard.” She angrily wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.

  “Andrea, I pray my words have not haunted you as they have haunted me. I hope that you have not hurt as I have hurt.”

  “Don’t worry, Colonel. I do not blame you for anything you did.” She stared blankly at the wall as she spoke. “An officer cannot be expected to trust the enemy. That was a mistake reserved for me alone to make, and a grave one I assure you. Grave enough, indeed, that it will never be made again.”

  Hunter put his hands to his head and groaned like a wounded animal. “Please don’t deny me the opportunity to explain.”

  “I just told you I do not blame you,” Andrea said, still staring at the wall. “I have always respected you for your loyalty, your honor and yo
ur duty to country. You have always been a soldier first. You never tried to deceive me on that matter.”

  “How can you talk like that after what we shared. . .here?”

  “What we shared was lust.” Andrea wheeled back to face him. “You loathed me. Despised me for my allegiance. I accept that and do not begrudge you, for you were gentleman enough to have never claimed any different. Thank goodness. At least you never lied and claimed affection for me.”

  Hunter stared at her incredulously, blinking repeatedly as if her words were blows that were actually making contact. “No. How can you think such a thing?” he choked helplessly. “I did…I do…I wanted to…I tried…but I thought…I thought…”

  Hunter stood swaying, opening and closing his fists. He turned pale; his legs began to shake. He looked like he was going to be horribly sick.

  “Your wound is painful to you?” Andrea hurriedly pulled a chair over to his shaking form.

  Hunter sat down heavily. “Only the one in my heart.” His head was in his hands, his breath coming heavy under the weight of great suffering. Then he looked up. “You are concerned about me?”

  Andrea kneeled beside him, one hand on the back of the chair the other tenderly on his knee, and studied his ashen features, the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I wish no hurt to you, Alex,” she said solemnly and sincerely. “I never have.”

  “Nor have I. Yet I have hurt you dreadfully.” He sucked in a deep, quivering breath. “Please know, Andrea, that it was never my intent.”

  “I have recovered,” she responded mechanically.

  “I don’t believe you. Not when I look in your eyes.”

  Andrea looked up and quickly stood, unwilling to face his expression of desperate hopefulness. “These eyes have seen much, Colonel.” She blinked repeatedly in an attempt to stop the images that assailed her vision. “If they do not glow with happiness, rest assured it has nothing to do with you.”

  Hunter stood and winced with the pain it produced. His faced was kindled with a burning fire of grief, his eyes gravely questioning. “Andrea, what can I say to you? What must I do to win your trust again?”

  “There is nothing to say, Colonel. The obstacles between us have always been too considerable and are even greater now.”

  “And my desire even stronger,” he said determinedly. “Look into my eyes and test the truth there.”

  Andrea refused to meet his gaze. “Nothing would change in the end, Colonel. Your distrust of me would lead to the same outcome eventually.”

  “And that is why you left without explaining the truth to me? Without fighting?”

  Andrea gazed into the nothingness beyond his shoulder and spoke the words that had been repeated in her thoughts a thousand times. “I merely submitted to the inevitable. I left because you ordered it. You ordered it because you did not trust me. You did not trust me because we are enemies.” She paused and tried to control her trembling voice. “Because we are enemies, I could not stay.”

  “We are not enemies, damn it! Stop saying that!” Hunter grabbed his head in pain. “Can we not be a man and a woman?”

  Andrea was not sure if he was asking her or the heavens above, so loud were his words proclaimed.

  “Andrea.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “I will desire you, admire you, cherish you forever, whether our loyalties differ or not, whether our allegiances allow it or not. Can you not look beyond the color of my uniform to the heart that beats beneath it?”

  “Release me,” she said, her voice and her expression cold.

  Hunter’s hands fell limply to his side. “Do not make me your enemy, Andrea, because that I shall never be. The enemy is within you and your tormented, tortured soul. If you would only open it to me, I would willingly share your pain.”

  “Share it? Or double it?”

  Hunter swallowed hard at her words but did not dispute them. He changed the subject instead to the night the catastrophic chain of events had begun. “You must know, Andrea, that I…the Confederacy…owe you a great debt for your services.”

  Andrea closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories. “Please do not speak of it.”

  “But why? It was an act of kindness. Of compassion.”

  “You must realize, that as an ally of the South, I became a traitor to the North…To my country…My flag.”

  “Showing humanity is not a traitorous act—nor dishonorable. Providing relief will always be more highly regarded than inflicting misery.”

  “How can I look in the eyes of those I once stood beside?” She turned away, her chest heaving at the burden she had carried alone these months.

  “You cannot blame yourself for doing what is right,” he said soothingly. “That cost cannot be measured.”

  Andrea took a deep breath and shook her head in frustration, knowing she had said those same words to him once. But that was long ago. Nothing was the same anymore.

  “You told me once your conviction for right and wrong is stronger than that for North and South,” Hunter said from directly behind her. “There is no crime in that.”

  “You are wrong. I arrived at Hawthorne with nothing but my honor.” She swiped at a tear on her cheek. “And I left with nothing at all.”

  “Andrea, do not speak this way. Please, I beg of you. It is not true.” When she did not respond, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Andrea, you saved a Confederate officer from drowning in a stream once. Was that traitorous?”

  Andrea took a deep breath. “Some would say it was.”

  “Do you believe it was?”

  She remained silent for a moment, wrestling with conflicting emotions. “I don’t regret it.” She turned around and looked him in the eye. “The regrets, I suppose, are all yours, Commander.”

  Hunter closed his eyes and clenched his fists at the thrust of her words. “I spoke in anger, and I will carry that burden and lament those words to my dying day.”

  Andrea realized for the first time that he was trembling. This mountain of a man, this brave and noble soul, stood before her shaky and insecure, his eyes pleading, his countenance one of pain and misery that she knew had nothing to do with his wound. Yet there rested between them an interminable shadow that could not be ignored.

  “You can’t just throw it all away,” he finally said. “Not all that we’ve shared. You cannot deny the sacred ties that bind me to you.”

  “Apparently you see things differently through the haze of time and distance, Colonel. For you cannot possibly remember our relationship as a harmonious one.”

  Hunter looked deep into her eyes. “Perhaps not harmonious, yet a more perfect match could not be found. Our wills may run contrary, yet we are always in perfect accord. Even you, Miss Evans, cannot deny the attraction.”

  A whimpering sound escaped Andrea’s lips at the memories his words evoked. “The person you speak of,” she said, looking away. “That person no longer exists.”

  She felt her throat tighten as the dam confining her emotions began to give way again. “And the only attraction I recall is between you and Victoria. No doubt she is waiting for you with open arms at Hawthorne.”

  “You are mistaken on both counts, Andrea. There was no attraction on my part, and Victoria no longer resides at Hawthorne.”

  Andrea gazed up at him questioningly, searching for the truth behind his words.

  “Miss Hamilton was a childhood friend—nothing more—as evidenced by the fact that she has tired of Hawthorne and taken up residence at Oakleigh until the war subsides.”

  Andrea’s eyes flicked across his face, but she saw no sign of regret or any indication that he cared one way or the other that Victoria now resided in the home of his nemesis, John Paul.

  “Tell me, Andrea,” he whispered, obviously hoping that what her lips said was in direct contradiction to the emotions of her heart. “Do I really cease to exist to you?”

  “I have let go,” she said without thinking, “as
you asked me to.”

  “Asked you to?”

  Andrea looked up and realized that dream and reality were so closely mixed she no longer knew the difference. The warm, compassionate eyes she stared into now were nothing like the ones that still chilled her in her dreams night after night. She watched the steel-gray eyes, usually smoldering with courage and determination, fill with a tenderness that flooded her heart with a feeling she thought was long ago dead. She knew that years of hard fighting had shaped a man strong enough to endure whatever life dealt him, but seeing him like this, she sensed a well of need within him.

  “The war has changed everything.” Andrea shook her head, trying to get him to see her point of view while fighting the feelings that consumed her. “And no one and nothing will ever be the same. It’s too big to think we can overcome it.”

  “To hell with the war!” Hunter threw his hands in the air in desperation, then took her arms and shook her gently. “I love you,” he said huskily. “I love you, Andrea. Desperately. Nothing—not the war—nothing can change that.”

  Andrea forced a laugh and pulled away from him. “What a match we make!” She crossed her arms in front of her. “You never believed God existed…and I do not believe love does.”

  The room grew deathly quiet, and she finally raised her eyes to meet his. Never had she seen such a distraught, haunted look as he stared at her unblinking…unbelieving.

  For a long time, he did not speak. Perhaps he did not trust himself to do so.

  “But you said once… you did once believe in love.”

  “I believed once in fairy tales too,” Andrea responded. “But reason…and cruel lessons I’ve since learned, demand I acknowledge that one is but a myth and the other a fallacy.”

  Hunter looked blankly at the wall behind her, his lips tightly compressed. All his strength appeared to leave him. Not a muscle in his countenance moved as he stared into the distance with vacant eyes. “Andrea, I wish to begin again,” he said, trying to make a final stand. “I will refuse you nothing in my authority to grant. I will serve you in any way in my power and at any cost to myself.”