Echoes of Dark and Light (23 page)

“Where’d they get those?” I muttered to Toby. I secretly hoped they had eaten beans for dinner.

More soldiers began gathering around, looking for entertainment. Preacher arrived and stood by my elbow.

“I heard of your arrangement with Jimmy,” he spoke close to my ear.

News travels fast.

“And though very admirable to defend Nurse Davis, may I remind you that gambling does not solve one’s problems.”

“Thanks, Preacher,” I muttered. “Where were you five minutes ago?” My stomach began clenching in regret.
Just what had I gotten us into?

Toby nudged me and leaned in to whisper, “You okay? You look like you just swallowed a cricket.”

I shook my head. “I’m not so sure this was such a good idea. I may have just gotten us in a load of trouble.”

Toby grinned lopsidedly. “Probably. But look on the bright side, Cora is safe. And we have loads of witnesses here to remind Jimmy’s gang of their promise.”

“But what about our end of the deal? Jimmy will most likely cheat, and we’ll end up stuck with his dirty deed, whatever it is.”

“Probably,” Toby replied again, with his sickeningly cheerful answer to almost everything lately. “But we don’t cheat, so we can hold our heads high, and somehow we’ll get through it. Besides, we’re in this together, right?”

I nodded glumly.
Right.

“Chin up, Rivers. We’ll be fine.”

Toby’s cheerfulness pulled me back to myself and I tried shaking off my regrets. True, Cora benefited, and we’d probably end up with a great story to tell, if we lived to tell it.

Jimmy sat on one of his creaking parlor chairs and began shuffling the cards.

“Forgive me for my lack of faith,” Toby broke in, “but for the best interests of all involved, I suggest we use a neutral deck.”

With a sigh of impatience and an irritated glare pinned on Toby, Jimmy pocketed his cards and then held out his palm to the gathering crowd. Someone slapped a new deck into Jimmy’s waiting hand. Still glaring at Toby, Jimmy began to shuffle again. “I suppose you will insist on cutting the cards as well?”

“Please,” Toby said, dipping his chin. “We don’t want anyone to suspect cheating in our gentleman’s game, now do we?”

Jimmy offered me the cards and I carefully split off the top two thirds and moved them to the bottom. I watched his hands critically to make note of any slight of hand tricks Robert had shown me. As far as I could tell, the game proceeded honestly.

I pulled my five dealt cards toward me as Jimmy spoke. “No wild cards, just a straight game. And no bets other than those previously stated. Agreed?”

Kevin, Toby and I nodded and then everyone took a careful look at his cards.

Two nines, a king of hearts, a two of diamonds and a three of spades. Not great, but workable. I pulled out the two and the three, passing them back to Jimmy facedown.

“Quick decision,” he commented.

I lifted an eyebrow in return and took the two new cards he dealt me. I pulled up the corners to look, careful to keep the contents from the bystanders behind me. Another nine and another king gave me a full house. Not bad, not bad at all.

All around me soldiers murmured to each other, placing their own bets and speculations on the game’s outcome.

“Five dollars on the redhead.”

“Kevin won ten greenbacks off me just last week.”

“Jimmy hasn’t lost a poker game since he turned twelve.”

“Don’t bet on the southerner; can’t trust any of them.”

I glanced over at Toby as he passed one card back to the dealer. He met my gaze, but carefully gave nothing away; too many eyes watched our every move.

Kevin tossed four cards back to the dealer, his eyes darting every which way, his leg bouncing under the table. Jimmy exchanged two cards.

The bustling and whispering tapered off as one by one the poker players locked eyes. The culmination had arrived.

Jimmy’s eyes glinted in the growing dusk, reflecting the light of our fire. He held my gaze for a mere breath, but that second of seeing into his soul sent a shiver down my spine. When he finally turned to Kevin, I grabbed a deep breath to clear my mind.

“Kevin, show us what you’ve got.”

In a burst of disgust, Kevin threw his cards down on the table. “A pair of fours, a lousy pair of fours.”

Jimmy let loose a sigh. “You are improving on your poker face. Slightly. Toby?”

Toby relinquished a wink in my direction before laying down five clubs, a flush, Jack high.

“Not bad, Dove. Rivers?”

Jimmy didn’t appear nervous in any way. Still, I proudly displayed my full house.

The crowd broke out in murmurs of approval and groans of emptying pockets.

“Well, Jimmy?” I hoped for the best, but really didn’t expect it.

Jimmy laid down four aces and a superior smile.

I knew he would cheat.

Four hours later, Toby and I crept through the frosty darkness under the silvery light of an almost full moon. Though most of the camp slept, the night remained far from silent. Deep, rasping snores sawed through the log walls of the winter cabins. Horses stomped and snorted frozen clouds of breath. Sentries checked in, reported and departed. Sleepy soldiers stumbled to the latrines, their eyes still mostly closed with dreams of home.

I dug my hands deep in my coat pockets searching for a bit of warmth. “I knew Jimmy would cheat.”

Toby bumped me with his shoulder. “Would you drop it already? We don’t know for sure that he cheated; we just suspect.” Then Toby grinned. “Only he knows that he cheated, he and God.”

“Do you think Captain Truckey will catch us?” I tried to keep quiet, but nerves kept my mouth running.

Toby shrugged. “Maybe. Guess we’ll find out.”

“Do you think he’d kick us out of the army?”

“Naw. They’re too desperate for warm bodies.” He paused for a long second before continuing. “Probably just lock us up in the sweat box or force us to sit astride a log horse hoisted ten feet in the air, or maybe stand on top a wooden barrel or be tied up spread eagle on a spare wagon wheel. Then there’s the forced march with a knapsack filled with rocks or be tied up by our thumbs for hours, and isolation on a twenty-foot tall platform with exposure to the elements. Or we could get tied up and gagged, or forced to wear a sign around our necks with our crime displayed for all, have a heavy log tied across our shoulders—”

“That’s not very reassuring, Toby.” We ducked under a fence and snuck through the cavalry corral. “I guess the only alternative is to avoid getting caught.”

“Sounds like a plan. You still have our little friend?”

“Still got it?” I asked incredulously. “Can’t you smell it?”

The burlap bag slung over my shoulder reeked of death and decay, and I could only guess where Jimmy had found the half-rotted skunk. Now, I’ve handled some rather raunchy items in my time, but this skunk, or what was left of him, had definitely passed his prime. I must admit to feeling a little sorry for Captain Truckey. But it all goes for a good cause; not only would Cora be safe as long as Jimmy kept his word, though I had my doubts on that, but Captain Truckey would realize just how much his troops respected him. It did seem backwards, playing a practical joke on someone you liked. But if you didn’t care, why bother? At least I hoped that’s the way Captain Truckey saw it.

The whole plan rested upon the fact that Captain Truckey had left camp. He set out a couple of days ago for some meeting, and expected to return the next morning. With an empty cabin under the cover of darkness, slipping in unnoticed and stashing our little friend in the Captain’s cedar chest shouldn’t prove too difficult. I’d played worse tricks on my own brothers. Fond memories flooded my mind of practical jokes shared between Robert, Robby and me. I tried to staunch the little voice reminding me that Robert had always, every single time, returned fire, and it had always seemed hotter on the receiving end.

Toby and I slunk into the darker shadows as we closed in on the captain’s cabin. We held our breaths and paused while a guard passed within three feet of us, leaving a vapor trail of whiskey fumes.

“I doubt that soldier would notice a southern gray if he tapped him on the shoulder with his bayonet,” Toby whispered.

I nodded, marveling how someone so inebriated could walk a straight line. I also wondered how he’d gotten a hold of the frowned upon drink. The big wigs forbade alcohol in camp for those of us at the bottom of the totem pole; the officers had their own rules, ones that allowed drinking. Didn’t matter to me; I never touched the stuff. I’d seen how ugly it would turn a person.

“Now,” whispered Toby.

I fell into step behind Toby, immediately tripping on some hidden obstacle and tumbling to the ground in an echoing clatter surely heard all over camp. My heart skidded to a painful halt.

“You klutz!” Toby grinned, his teeth reflecting the moon’s glow. He held out a hand to pull me to my feet.

His calmness reassured me that my display of inelegance hadn’t been quite as loud as I’d feared. I grasped his calloused hand and he hauled me up, and then he stooped down to retrieve our odoriferous offering. Without further complications, we slipped into Captain Truckey’s winter cabin.

I stood inside the cold, silent room, peering into the corners trying to see…anything. I heard Toby rustling near me and then a square of moonlight pooled in the room as Toby pulled open the shutters on the one window. He indicated I should keep watch and I moved over to comply. Toby knelt by the cedar chest situated at the foot of the bed. The lid lifted with a creek of rusty hinges and Toby froze with caution. Through the window, I swept the camp with careful eyes, spotting no one. I gave a nod to Toby, and he opened the trunk all the way, leaning the lid against the wooden bed frame. Half-full of uniforms and woolen under britches, enough room remained for the burlap sack in the far corner. Toby quickly made the deposit, closing the lid on the stinky surprise. I sincerely hoped that Captain Truckey had a sense of humor. Or at least a poor sense of smell and a forgiving personality.

Toby joined me by the window where we took a final peek at our escape route before securely closing the shutters. Then we turned and carefully made our way through the darkness towards—

The door swung open casting a square block of moonlight across the dirt floor. With a traveling bag slung over his shoulder, Captain Truckey stepped through the doorway!

I choked, and heard Toby utter a low moan. Captain Truckey stopped short at the sight of us, his furry eyebrows disappearing under his cap. But then, without a word, as if used to discovering uninvited visitors creeping about his darkened cabin in the wee morning hours, he lit the lantern hanging beside the door and indicated the chairs by his desk. Numbly, we took the offered seats, posing stiffly on the edge, preparing for a speedy retreat when, and if, the opportunity surfaced.

Without a word, Captain Truckey squatted down before the fireplace and coaxed a fire to life out of the kindling and logs already prepared. The small spark of light quickly grew, chasing dark shadows into the corners and breathing out a whisper of warmth. The captain filled a pot of water from the jug by the bed, ice chunks crackling in the exchange. Then he suspended the pot over the fire and set out the makings for three mugs of tea. He lowered himself into the chair opposite with a groan, removed his hat and ran his fingers wearily over his face and into his hair. Exhausted eyes with bloodshot whites met ours, and he offered a tired smile.