Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (11 page)

Andrea looked up to see if he was joking, and
when she saw he was not, leaped to her feet—one foot anyway—and hopped over to
him. “But you said today—”

“May not a man change his mind?”

“J.J., I won’t let you down. I promise,” Andrea
said, hugging him.

“You have Colonel Delaney to thank. I respect
his opinion. And for some reason he believes you have some sense hiding
somewhere in that head of yours.”

Andrea blushed. “Will that be all?”

“No. One more thing.”

She looked up when she heard the seriousness of
his tone.

“Hunter’s men, the prisoners, were very vocal
about you.”

“About me?”

“The little kid with the big backbone on the
black horse to be precise.” J.J. paused to make sure she was listening. “And
they said you are as good as dead if Hunter ever gets his hands on you.”

Andrea bit her cheek, then shrugged. “We’ll have
to make sure that doesn’t happen, won’t we?”

“I’m not sure you understand the seriousness of
the matter.” J.J.’s voice grew louder. “This from a man who does not threaten
in vain.”

Andrea nodded. “Will that be all?”

J.J. decided not to further waste his breath.
“Yes,” he growled. “That will be all.”

Andrea turned to leave with her lips curved in a
smile, but when she reached the door, she paused with her hand on the latch.
“That’s not why you’re sending me to Richmond, I hope.” She forced a laugh, and
looked back at him over her shoulder. “To protect me from Hunter.”

The room fell silent, but the silence spoke
louder than words. The sound of the slamming door echoing through the Union
camp warned everyone in earshot to steer clear of Sinclair. He was no longer in
the best of moods.

* * *

Colonel Delaney stepped from the shadows of the
picket line, stopping Andrea as she stormed toward Justus. “It’s a little late
for a ride, is it not, Sinclair?”

“I’m not afraid of the dark and was not aware I
was under a curfew.” Andrea picked up her saddle and threw it over Justus’ back
a little harder than she should have, causing him to jump sideways.

“Where are you going?” Daniel asked,
sidestepping the prancing horse.

“To hell in a hand basket,” was the immediate
retort. Though she said it under her breath, Daniel heard it nonetheless.

“You can’t just come and go as you please,” he
said forcefully. “Soldiers have to have a little discipline.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Andrea replied,
limping to the other side of her horse to untangle the cinch, “I’m not a
soldier. At least I’m not treated as a soldier.”

“Perhaps if you acted with a little more
restraint and obeyed orders you would be. Subordination, no less than valor, is
the duty of a warrior.” Daniel winced when Andrea let out a string of curses
from the far side of the horse, her hands pulling and slapping at the leather
as she worked to untangle it. Justus continued sidestepping and snorting,
trying to avoid her wrath.

“These hills are still full of Rebels,” he said,
changing tactics.

“Good.”
Andrea came back from around the horse but did not stop her work. “Perhaps one
of them would be kind enough to shoot me. That torment could not be nearly as
agonizing as that through which I just passed.”

Cursing
again as she strove to cinch up the saddle with fingers that bungled the job,
Andrea added a few more sentences—all richly punctuated with profanity—when her
toe was almost stamped upon by her jumpy horse.

“You’re tired,” Daniel said, touching her arm.
“Stay here the night.”

Andrea stopped, took a deep breath, and leaned
her head into her horse’s neck for a moment as if to gather strength. “You and
Colonel Jordan have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sending me to Richmond. To protect me from
Hunter.”

Daniel cleared his throat. “That’s what Colonel
Jordan told you?” He laid his hand on Justus’ rump to calm him.

“No.” Andrea wheeled around to face him. “That’s
what he did
not
tell me!”

Daniel met her gaze but did not speak.

“It
was
all your idea, wasn’t it?” Andrea
glared at him accusingly. “Jordan wasn’t going to let me go until you talked
him into it.”

“I thought
you wanted to go to Richmond.”

“I did. I do!” Andrea turned back to her horse.
“I don’t want to be exiled there so you and Jordan can be rid of me.”

“It’s not like that.” Daniel put his hand on her
arm and led her deeper into the shadows. “Look, I was with the prisoners when
they were being interrogated. Hunter means business.”

“Oh, hang him!” Andrea said, freeing herself
from his grasp and walking away. “I don’t fear Hunter.”

“Then you
do
need protection,” Daniel
said grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. “Because you should!”

“You know him so well as to believe I should
fear him?” Andrea’s eyes probed his.

“I know he’s a soldier fighting for what he
believes in. That’s reason enough to fear him.”

“We’re all fighting for what we believe in,” she
countered.

Daniel let out an exasperated breath. “You don’t
understand. He’s as devoted to his men as they are to him. There’ll be blood to
pay for the one he lost—and the three he’s missing.”

Andrea stood
staring into Daniel’s eyes as if contemplating what she saw there. “I’ll stay
the night,” she finally said, turning back to Justus and removing his saddle.
“And I’ll take the offer of Richmond under consideration.”

Daniel shook his head in bewilderment. Now he
knew why Colonel Jordan said he had his hands full. This was a woman with no
little spirit—even now when he knew she was fighting exhaustion. “Is it so hard
to believe we’re doing this because we’re concerned about you?”

Andrea stopped what she was doing but did not
turn around. “Your concern is misplaced. I’d rather have your trust.”

Daniel put his hand on her shoulder from
directly behind her. “Perhaps you should try trusting us first.” He watched her
take a deep, quivering breath, and was astounded when she turned and looked up
at him with woeful eyes as if he had said something that hurt her.

Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her to
comfort her and she responded by burying her head against his shoulder as if in
desperate need. Daniel drew her even closer then, surprised at her softness and
fragile vulnerability.

She pulled away after only a few moments and
stared at the ground as if confused. “I think I’d better say good night,
Colonel Delaney.” Removing the saddle and placing it over a post, she turned
and started walking toward the mill.

“It’s Daniel. I wish you wouldn’t be so formal
when we’re alone.”

Andrea stopped, looked back over her shoulder,
and smiled. “Well then, good night—Daniel.”

 “That sounds better. Good night—Andrea.”

Chapter
11

“Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.”

–  Hamlet, Shakespeare

The camp lay wrapped in deep silence a little
before dawn when Daniel stumbled onto the wide wooden porch of the mill and
stretched. Drawing in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air, he pulled his
suspenders over his shoulders and started down the steps. The flickering light
from a campfire caught his eye, followed by the sight of a solitary figure
silhouetted against the flames.

Daniel could tell upon his approach her mind was
miles away. She seemed to be staring into the fire in deep—and
private—reflection. “Sinclair,” he said in case anyone was about. “You get any
sleep?”

Startled, Andrea looked up and shrugged. “Yes,
sir. A little.”

Daniel pulled a pot of coffee off the fire,
cursing under his breath when he burned his fingers, and poured the warm liquid
into a battered tin cup. He wondered why she sat up awake when she looked so
dreadfully tired.

“Well, I’m glad to see someone’s up keeping the
coffee hot,” he said teasingly. Andrea nodded slightly, but her gaze remained
locked on the fire.

Glancing up at the sky, as all soldiers do when
they know they have a ride ahead of them, Daniel smiled when he saw a few
stars.
Good. No rain—for a little while anyway.

“I ah, need a guide,” he said, taking a sip of
coffee and grimacing at its strength. “Was going to wake up Logan, but since
you’re up—if you’re willing.”

He did not have time to finish. Andrea jumped to
her feet, took a final gulp of coffee, dumped the rest, and limped quickly to
the picket line.

“I didn’t even tell you where I’m going,” Daniel
said after catching up.

“Doesn’t matter,” Andrea answered. “I don’t like
sitting around camp.”

Yes, I’ve noticed that,
he thought as he
spread a map on his horse’s rump and lit a match. “I’m heading here.”

Andrea nodded, barely giving the map a glance.
“I’m familiar. Let’s go.”

After refolding the map, Daniel gave her a leg
up on her prancing beast, then swung into his own saddle with easy grace.
Riding a few paces behind the silent figure, he watched her drift into the
night with the ease of one familiar with its depths.

Daniel
remained silent, but noticed Andrea took her business seriously, constantly
scanning the terrain and studying the ground. Instead of following the road as
he assumed she would, she directed him into a grove of pines. He followed her
by sound, not sight, for under the cover of the trees he could barely see his
hand in front of his face.

After a few miles, Andrea reined in Justus while
pulling a spyglass from her saddle. When she finished looking at the horizon,
she handed it to Daniel, then circled her prancing horse back into the shadows
of the trees.

Pointing the spyglass in the same direction,
Daniel saw the image of shadowy horsemen about a mile away, standing in bold
relief against the sun rising behind them. He watched in disbelief as they came
row after row over a hill, the Southern Cross fluttering proudly in their
midst.

“I saw tracks when we crossed the road a ways
back.” Andrea’s voice was low and hushed. “Their advance must have come through
right before us. I figure about two hundred cavalry and at least one
fieldpiece. What thinks you?”

“That looks about right,” Daniel said, a bit
overwhelmed at her ability to summarize numbers so quickly. He wondered what
have happened if he’d brought Logan as a guide.
No doubt we would have run
directly into them
.

The first
stirrings of the birds began announcing morning’s birth as the two sat under
the cover of trees, watching their foe advance westerly. The landscape began to
reflect the soft pinkish hue of the dawning sun, but neither had time to
appreciate the view. “Doesn’t look like Hunter’s men,” Andrea said, turning her
experienced eye back to the horizon. “Could be Stuart.”

“And they’re heading straight toward Salem,”
Daniel replied.

Andrea nodded. “I have the fastest horse,” she
stated with authority. “I’ll head to Salem to warn Dayton while you go gather
your men. We may be able to flank them yet.”

Daniel turned and looked into green eyes that
appeared to gleam with mad impatience. “Capital plan, that. But I don’t think
Colonel Jordan will approve.”

“It matters not,” Andrea said bluntly. “We have
no choice.”

Daniel now heard the distinctive rattle of
sabers clanking against saddle fittings.

“Can’t be Hunter with those sabers.” Andrea
moved Justus back to the edge of the tree line to scan the scene again.

Daniel circled his horse in the shadows, mulling
over her plan. “I know of your readiness to undertake danger, but you can’t
keep pushing Colonel Jordan like this,” he said at length, trying to keep a
firm hand on his suddenly unruly mount. “You can’t keep on with this complete
disregard for military regulations and orders.”

“It’s not a question of danger, but duty,”
Andrea retorted. “I’m doing no more than my duty—and no one can expect me to do
less.”

When Daniel did not reply, she leaned forward in
her saddle, causing the leather to creak. “Do you have a better plan, Colonel
Delaney?” She appeared calm and confident as she gazed at him. “If you do, I’ll
gladly yield mine to yours.”

Daniel looked from her to the spectral parade of
gray-clad horsemen and back. “No.”

“Then I’ll
see you in Salem.” Andrea did not wait for him to change his mind.

“Caution will be the order of the day,” Daniel
yelled in a hushed voice. But she had apparently already thrown caution to the
wind. Her horse disappeared into the shadowy landscape in the blink of an eye,
and in another moment even the sound of hooves had faded. Daniel stared into
the tree-line and shook his head.
That girl would fan the flames of hell—and
then charge through them—simply for the thrill of the ride
.

* * *

J.J. listened with half-closed eyes to the sound
of Daniel’s pacing. Suddenly the door burst open.

“I have a report from one of my scouts,” Colonel
Dayton said, throwing his hat on a chair.

“About Sinclair?” Daniel asked, stepping
forward.

“Yes. It
seems your scout, Sinclair, was observed trailing the enemy closely.” He paused
and cleared his throat. “So closely in fact that my man lost sight of him.”

“He
what
?” Daniel’s fists tightened by
his side.

“Apparently he was riding north of the enemy
column. When the Confederates made the unexpected turn away from Salem toward
Middleburg, my scout says Sinclair just kind of got mixed up in their line.”

Daniel and J.J. looked at each other and
simultaneously exhaled. Daniel even put his hand to his head as if he felt a
sudden rush of pain.

“There’s no need for worry,” Dayton insisted,
sitting down and pulling a pipe out of a drawer. “He says Sinclair just sort of
blended in with the enemy. There was no alarm.”