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

by Jessica James

  “We’re fine, Carter,” the latter said, not taking his eyes from Andrea’s defiant gaze, nor she from his.

  Andrea picked up the conversation where it had left off as soon as the door closed. “If you think for one moment you can bend me from my purpose by your threats or command, you will find you are in dreadful error.” She took a step closer and pointed her finger at him defiantly. “I will not leave but by force, and you will not find that an easy course! Why, you do not even have enough men to accomplish such a deed.”

  “It will take but one man, Andrea,” Hunter said in a perfectly calm voice.

  “Me.”

  He did not give her time to respond to that. He cupped her face in his hands, bent down and kissed her so tenderly, so longingly, so lovingly that it took her breath—and her anger—away.

  “Is it so hard to believe that I want you to be safe?” Hunter whispered in her ear, pulling her into his arms.

  “Is it so hard to believe that I want the same for you?” Andrea placed her head on his heart. “Retreat does not indicate defeat when it allows you the opportunity to fight another day.”

  “When Pierce gets back I will consult the opinions of my officers. I’ll yield to their decision on whether the Command fights or crosses into Virginia.”

  “But there’s really no decision to make,” Andrea said, making an obvious attempt to keep her voice calm. “Consider how the prestige of a victory over you would animate the enemy, Colonel Hunter. I know you worship the sacred soil of Virginia—but wouldn’t it be better to fight another day than sleep eternally beneath it? That is the basic premise for your decision, isn’t it?”

  “You make it sound easy.” Hunter pushed his hat back off his brow and walked to a window in the back of the room to stare at the horizon.

  “It is easy.” Andrea paced back and forth, her hands flying to accentuate her emotions. “On the one hand, your Command is devoid of every resource for battle including provisions and men. You do not have the choice of ground, or even knowledge of the ground on which you stand. Nor do you have the advantage of surprise or the benefit of being the aggressor.”

  Hunter looked back over his shoulder at her, but made no effort to bring the conversation to an end.

  “You have no time to launch a diversion, and even if you did, you don’t possess the manpower or the ammunition to sustain one. Your horses are jaded, your men are tired, and the enemy outnumbers you five to one. Any attempt to defend this position seems incredibly impractical, unrealistic and, frankly, unattainable due to an uncooperative swollen river. Your only hope of success is a sudden and complete capitulation by the enemy, which we both know is not going to happen. They are well rested and well fed, and are no doubt incensed—nay, infuriated—with your very presence on Northern soil. They carry the added advantage of no longer suffering in fear of ambush or reprisal from you, trapped as you are on a useless piece of land that you cannot afford to hold and from which you do not have the ability to maneuver. The benefit of this to them and the consequences of this to you are nigh impossible to estimate. Tell me Colonel, wherein lies the difficulty of the decision?”

  “Gotta couple of pretty good points there,” Carter said.

  Andrea and Hunter both whirled around at the same time. Neither had heard Carter and Pierce enter the room—Andrea so intent on making her plea, and Hunter intent on listening in bewilderment to her torrent of words.

  Carter leaned nonchalantly against the door, chewing on his cigar while looking wryly amused. Pierce stood with his head cocked to the side, looking openly shocked at the lengthy expostulation just given by a mere boy.

  Hunter cleared his throat, and nodded dismissively in her direction. “Thank you for your opinion. That will be all.”

  He saw a stream of sunlight burst into the room and surround her as she opened the door and then watched it disappear as if she were taking it with her when it alternately slammed shut.

  “Send in the other officers,” Hunter said to Carter, “we have a plan to discuss.” Then he turned his back and concentrated once again on the map on the table.

  Chapter 19

  Yet this inconstancy is such, as you too shall adore, I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not honor more.

  – Off to War, Lovelace

  Carter saw Andrea leaning against a tree, her thoughts apparently so absorbed on the men spilling out of the farmhouse behind him that she didn’t notice his approach. Her eyes flicked from face to face as men shouted and hurried to obey orders.

  When her gaze finally met his, he read in her furrowed brow that she sensed the distinctive undercurrent of excitement. She knew without asking that a decision had been made, and it was not hard to see that the men preparing to carry out that decision approached it with enthusiasm.

  Carter paused and looked back at the men, too. What he saw on their faces was what he knew was in their minds. They were already thinking of the end result of today’s contest and their greatest reward—to see Hunter approach them after the battle, feel his hand on their shoulder, and hear him say, “Well done.”

  These men would fight like demons—and face anything the enemy could throw at them—just for the chance to hear those two words from their commander’s lips.

  “Colonel wants to see you,” Carter said in a low voice when he reached her.

  Andrea’s eyes shifted to a point over Carter’s shoulder, and the light reflected from them announced the approach of the most dashing and indomitable soldier in the Confederacy. She smiled as he drew near—or tried to—her trembling lips revealing the overwhelming emotions she felt at the mere sight of him.

  “Ride with me a moment,” was all Hunter said when he reached her.

  Carter watched the two mount, their legs swinging across the backs of their horses in perfect unison, both settling into their saddles with gentle ease—an act he suspected was more a result of the injuries each had suffered than in deference to the backs of their mounts.

  Andrea turned toward Carter a moment, obviously trying to wear the same expression of calmness that Hunter so coolly displayed. Before gathering her reins, she saluted in Carter’s direction, her lips showing a smile of hopeful optimism, her eyes a look of intolerable dread.

  The slender youth and the strong, bronzed officer then swung their horses around to the right and pushed them into a canter in perfect stride and harmony, as if there was but one mind and soul between them. Carter watched them ride away side by side, boot to boot in silence, two opposite forces of energy that had finally found perfect balance.

  To a stranger, it might appear they were drawn together by the mysterious relationship of opposites, but Carter knew their affinity to one another was actually their strong likenesses. Both were as stubborn, intrepid, and fiercely independent as any two people could be.

  He could well imagine the spirited clashes and passion that flickered and flamed between them when they were alone. On second thought, perhaps he could not. He saw the sparks flying when they but stood in the same room. He could not imagine the meteoric brilliance that flamed when they were in each other’s arms—and he felt his face turn scarlet at the thought.

  In any event, he was glad that a truce had been called, fortifying a bond and creating a union that not even war, hopefully, could separate.

  * * *

  Hunter rode into a small grove of trees and watched Andrea cautiously scan each shadow and silhouette within its depths, her mind obviously alert to any danger that might be hidden within. “You are safe within my lines.”

  Andrea focused her eyes on him for a moment. “You forget. I am an enemy among your men and a traitor among mine.”

  “You are not the enemy of this Command, I assure you.” He urged his horse a step closer, and spoke in a serious tone. “My men have decided the battalion will cross into Virginia. You apparently influenced them with your logic.”

  “And yet you disagree?”

  “I am
of the mind it is better to have fought and lost than never to have fought at all.”

  “It is not rational or logical to gamble all and gain nothing. Besides,” she said, her tone serious as she moved her horse back a step to look at him more fully. “It should worry you, as it worries me, that I am being forced to give you advice on being rational and logical.”

  Hunter gazed in awe at the bright smile of humor she wore on her lips despite the desperate situation. She looked perfectly majestic sitting arrow straight, yet relaxed, on her horse, one hand on the reins, the other on the back of her saddle as she twisted to face him. Yet, he felt a sudden stab in his heart when he thought how few minutes they had to talk.

  “Miss Evans, I rely considerably on your judgment and hold your opinion sacred, believe me.”

  “The ford is not easily accessible to a large number of men.” Andre’s tone grew serious again. “There is danger in delay.”

  “Yes, I understand. “I have a squad moving out as vanguard to help Pierce’s men protect the ford. I want you to go with Carter in the main body. I will move up with the rearguard.”

  Andrea started to shake her head.

  “That’s an order. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “But the rearguard will be the most heavily engaged.”

  “So be it.” Hunter’s gaze shifted to a place over her shoulder. “The fault is mine, so must the remedy be. I will not leave until my men are safely in Virginia.”

  A gust of wind swept down upon them, causing Andrea’s horse to rear and, almost in the same instant, buck, while hopping and sidestepping in apparent fear. Hunter watched her bring him back under control, never so much as blinking an eye or changing her relaxed stance in the saddle—or apparently even taking notice that he was attempting to dislodge her.

  “Easy, big boy,” Andrea said soothingly, bending down to pat him on the neck to calm his quivering. “Nothing but the wind.”

  The horse stood trembling with alarm, relying on nothing but her voice to keep him from running straight to kingdom come for safety. Andrea appeared surprised when she looked up and read the amused amazement on Hunter’s countenance.

  “The boys gave me this horse as a practical joke” she said, patting the animal on the neck again as if his behavior required an explanation. “Told me if I wanted a broke horse when I requested a mount from government stables then I should have specified as such. They had a jolly good laugh when I got on Buck here the first time.”

  Hunter winced. “He’s not broke and you took that fence earlier?”

  “There are only two ways he could have gone—over or through.” Andrea shrugged. “My odds were fifty-fifty.”

  “And you think fifty-fifty makes good odds?”

  Andrea turned in her saddle again to face him, leaning back and resting one hand on her horse’s rump. “Lighten up, Colonel. You said yourself you don’t bother to count odds, which is for the better, because I’m afraid that yours today are not nearly so high.”

  Hunter ignored the comment. “The boys, as you call them, that gave you the horse…they are on the other side of the hill?” He did not say to whom he was referring, merely nodded toward the Union line.

  Andrea’s expression turned instantly mournful, though she looked down to escape his gaze. She nodded, making it perfectly clear that the soldiers in blue whom he considered dire enemies, were friends and comrades by whose side she had shared danger and laughter, peril and mirth. She was one of them.

  Or had been.

  Hunter, who so rarely showed emotion, became clearly overwhelmed by it now. His eyes misted at her commitment and devout loyalty to him. “You have done me and my men a great service today,” he said, bringing his horse next to hers. “One that I can never hope to repay.”

  Andrea grabbed his gauntleted hand, his earlier stinging words apparently forgotten. “But you can.” She looked earnestly into his eyes. “I will let you pay it back, slowly, for the rest of your life.”

  Hunter’s mouth curled into a smile, relieved that she was not angry, and now, somehow elated at the prospect of having such an overwhelming debt to pay. “Do not worry, Private Evans, I fully intend to honor my obligations.”

  Leaning forward then, he gave her a long, adoring kiss.

  Chapter 20

  Love does not die easily.

  – Hamlet, Shakespeare

  Andrea wrapped her arms around Hunter’s neck in obvious desperation and felt herself being lifted with strong arms across his saddle. “Oh, Alex,” she said, burying her head in his chest and clutching his soldierly form. Hunter responded by tightening his embrace, leaving her to wonder how a mortal man could possess such boundless tenderness in such iron muscles.

  “Andrea, you will go back to Hawthorne,” he said, his voice strangely low. “No matter what.”

  She lifted her head, not sure if he was stating a fact or asking a question. “No matter what?”

  “If anything should happen to me… I would like to know that you would still go back. That it would be in good hands.”

  Andrea blinked, trying to hold back the tears that threatened. “If that is your wish.”

  “It is my most desperate desire.”

  She looked up in anguish at the businesslike tone of his voice. “There is no need to seal your devotion to the Confederacy with your life, Alex,” she said, clutching his coat. “Please, not now.”

  He did not answer at first, and when he did, his gaze was locked on something over her shoulder. “What I do, I do for Virginia. You understand, don’t you?”

  He shifted his attention back to her and remained there in a spellbinding gaze of devotion, causing Andrea to nod her head in assent.

  “We’d better get back,” he finally said, his tone carrying a calmness and determination that terrified Andrea. She pulled her horse close and swung her leg over its back.

  “Wait, Andrea.” He swallowed hard and looked her in the eye. “My love for Virginia, my duty to state, does not mean I love you less. Do you understand?”

  Neither spoke for a moment. Even the horses stood perfectly still. “I will not obstruct the path of your duty, Alex,” she said, her chin trembling. “I give you to Virginia and God—if that is what you wish of me.”

  Andrea caught only a glimpse of his eyes filling with fluid, and then he nodded, turned his head from her, and nudged his horse forward. After riding a short distance, Andrea reached out for his sleeve and stopped him again. Her heart beat tumultuously at the thought that the sand of time was slipping through the hourglass at a speed beyond her control. It seemed she had mere minutes to share the rest of her life.

  “I know it is your right, your privilege to die for the Cause. But Alex, you will be careful?”

  Alex turned his attention back to her, but it appeared to Andrea his mind was already elsewhere. “I will see you on the other side of the river, Andrea,” he said without concern, his eyes lit with a strange brilliancy. “The Virginia side.”

  His calm tone and his penetrating gaze belayed a man who knows no fear. Andrea stared hard at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was passing in his mind. All she saw was a look of eagerness, revealing with dreadful certainty that he desired this encounter more so than feared it.

  Andrea absently glanced skyward and watched four buzzards circling overhead as if anticipating the feast being prepared below. But when she looked at the one beside her, she saw he took no notice.

  Yes, there could be no doubt—the man was going to do his duty—cost what it may.

  Chapter 21

  The war will be won by the blood of its citizens. And though the North may have more, who is to say the South will not be willing to shed more?

  – Andrea Evans

  The men had already begun to move out by the time Andrea and Hunter galloped back. Andrea moved her horse away from the others, while Hunter and Carter disappeared behind a clump of trees to confer in low, whispered tones. When they re-
appeared, Carter finished stuffing something into his saddlebag, nodded his head and rode away. Hunter scanned the yard a moment, and then urged his horse toward Andrea.

  “You ready?” He grasped her hand in a final testament of warm regard, his eyes remaining locked on hers during the brief moment they touched.

  Andrea met his gaze, and then lowered her eyes to the greatcoat he now wore. Lined in scarlet, it seemed out of place among the other dusty and tattered uniforms, but she had no time to question his reasons.

  “Stay safe, Andrea,” he said,

  She nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll see you in Virginia, Alex.”

  There were no more words spoken. She watched him wheel away, spur his horse into a gallop, and disappear into the midst of the Confederacy’s most illustrious band of heroes.

  Andrea heard only scattered gunfire until she was almost to the river—then all hell broke loose. It seemed the Yankees had been taken by surprise at the sudden departure of the enemy and were now intent on pulverizing them for their own carelessness.

  She at once recognized Pierce, riding back and forth like a madman through a shower of lead, directing and strategically deploying his men to meet the coming foe while defending the battalion’s crossing. Because of the difficult terrain in reaching the ford, only a few dozen had yet safely reached the southern shore, and it was obvious the enemy was intent on stopping the rest.

  “Keep them moving!” Pierce yelled. “Keep that ford open!”

  Andrea had every intention of doing just that, but Buck decided he preferred the shore he was on and went madly out of control, sideswiping her leg against a tree.

  Unfortunately, he was not the only beast of burden with unenthusiastic thoughts about the crossing. Already horses were plunging into the water, some without riders, many out of control. Andrea rushed into the river as well, slapping horses on their rumps to keep them moving, and holding injured men on their saddles until they could get across.