Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (62 page)

Without words he handed her the reins. Then he
pulled back her hood and held her face in tremulous hands, gazing at her as if
trying to commit every feature to memory. “I am not the enemy, Andrea,” he
said, brushing his lips gently against her cheek. “I will wait indefinitely for
you to realize that, and will submit to any conditions you impose.”

Never had
Andrea seen more devotion or affection as she glanced up at him. Never had she
looked into eyes such as his and seen a noble soul so tortured by despair. She
swallowed hard and blinked back tears as she turned to mount. Strong hands
wrapped around her waist and lifted her effortlessly into the saddle.

Hunter put one
restraining hand on the bridle and another on her leg as Andrea gathered the
reins. “You do understand, do you not, that I have surrendered to you—heart and
soul—unconditionally and without hesitation, and swear on all that is dear to
me that I shall love you until the end of time.”

Andrea nodded, pretending to understand,
pretending that she knew anything of the word. For a moment, just a moment, she
thought about sliding off the horse, back into the comfort of his arms. But the
fear of being hurt again, of hurting him, was too great. She could not allow
herself to be weak, for she could never bear the crushing weight of pain like
this.

“Andrea, so
help me God, with my last breath I shall love you. Please …”

“Goodbye, Colonel.” Hunter let go of the bridle
and Andrea urged the mare forward.

“I’m sorry, Alex.”

Her words went unheard. Colonel Hunter sank to
his knees and heard nothing over the sobs that raked his body as darkness
swallowed the woman he had hoped to never let out of his sight—or his
arms—again.

Chapter
61

“Love comes out of heaven, unasked and unsought.”

– Pearl Buck

It took Andrea more than a week to track down
J.J., thanks to the weather and his constant movements. When she rode into the
bustling Union camp, the sound of shouted orders, galloping cavalry, and
scrambling orderlies indicated something was afoot.

Her curiosity increased even more when she found
that J.J. was not in his tent. A kind orderly allowed her to wait for him
there, and after an hour’s time, he arrived. Andrea watched his expression
change from one of fatigue and worry to shock and surprise when his eyes fell
upon her.

“Jehoshaphat, Andrea! Where have you been? How
did you get here? Why did you come?”

Andrea forced a smile. “Winchester. Horse. Do I
need a reason?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, walking over and giving
her a hug. “I’m just surprised. It’s been a long time. Is something wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to visit
you?” Andrea kept her tone calm while suppressing the urge to remain in his
arms and bury her head against his strong chest.

Despite her poker-faced response, J.J. seemed to
sense that something
was
wrong. “You’ve heard.” His voice was soft and
consoling.

Andrea pulled away and looked up at him. “Heard
what?”

“Nothing.
Nothing.” He waved his hand in air, then picked up some papers on his desk and
put them down again.

“Is something wrong with
you
?” she asked,
noticing his nervousness.

J.J. looked hard at her, apparently weighing
whether or not to divulge something of great importance. “Since you’re here,
let’s take a walk.”

Andrea tried to keep up, but J.J. seemed anxious
to distance himself from camp. He finally stopped in a picturesque grove of
young trees on the crest of a hill, and took a moment to light his pipe. “We’ve
got him cornered,” he said.

“Who?” Andrea’s gaze was locked on a squawking
blue jay insulting them mercilessly from a limb right over their heads.

J.J. only sighed, resting his foot on a rock and
crossing his arms over his knee. His silence told Andrea the obvious.

“Hunter?” She grabbed his arm in alarm.

He nodded but did not turn around.

Andrea’s heart stood still, then fell to her
feet, then beat tumultuously. Yet her blood seemed stagnate in her veins. “You
cannot fight him!”

“It is my sacred duty, Andrea. You know that.”

“But how?” she asked, fearing she was somehow to
blame.

“They
ventured north,” he said, “across the Potomac for forage. And now with the rain
they cannot re-cross. We’ve driven them to the water’s edge.”

Andrea put her hand to her head. The two men she
cherished most in the world were going to meet on the battlefield and she was
helpless to stop the slaughter that was inevitable and imminent.

“We’ve given him the opportunity to surrender.”

“He will not back down from a fight for his
beloved Virginia,” Andrea shouted, grabbing his arm again. “It is his
lifeblood!”

Andrea knew Hunter better than she knew
herself—knew he was a Virginian first, a man second. Surrender would never be
an option for him. Even hemmed in by nature and the enemy, he would not
consider yielding. She turned away, holding her stomach, gasping for breath.

How much more would she have to endure? She had
faced death, anguish, and torment at every hour and at every step in this awful
hell of a war. Not this! Please Lord, if you are there—not this!

She took a deep, quivering breath and turned
back to J.J. “There is not a cowardly soul among them. They will fight you to
the gates of Hell.”

J.J. nodded while staring at the tree overhead,
seeming to search for the blue jay that had since flown away. “We are ready.”

Andrea looked at him, but she did not see. What
she saw was two groups of men preparing for mutual slaughter. She turned away
and took a deep, agonizing breath, her prophetic gaze fixed on the distance,
where the music of the guns would soon commence. “I can take no more of this,
J.J.,” she said, turning back to him. “For the love of God, I swear to you, I
can endure no more!”

J.J. placed his hand on her shoulder and she
grabbed fistfuls of his jacket. “Can we not let them live in peace? They are
guided by love of liberty and what they believe to be a just cause. Why must
you
fight
them?”

Andrea looked
up at him, blinking tears from her lashes, but she already knew his answer. He
was too loyal and responsible a general to ignore the enemy and not press the
advantage. Drawing a deep, sobbing breath, she stared again at the landscape,
thinking of the terrible ending to come from all her suffering and sacrifice.
They were going to clash—the Union general who was too loyal to avert a fight
and the Confederate colonel who was too proud to run from one. She would rather
be dead than witness the bloodbath to come.

“Andrea, I know your loyalty is with the Union.
But it appears your heart lies in the South.”

Andrea turned around and looked up at him,
confused. “But—”

“He cares for you, deeply. I could see it in his
eyes.”

Andrea took a rapid breath and averted her gaze,
knowing he had figured out her deception about Hunter’s identity when he had
been captured.

J.J. took her chin in his hand and turned her
face up. “You’ve given enough, Andrea. You’ve suffered enough. Go to him.”

Andrea looked
into his eyes, astonished that he would suggest such a thing.

“The South’s Cause is not dying, it is dead.
Petersburg is about to fall. The end is near and sure. Rely upon it.”

“
They
do not believe—will never
believe—the Cause is lost!”

J.J. held her by the shoulders and shook her.
“Tell
him
it is.”

Andrea thought again of Hunter, envisioned him
plowing his way through the gates of Hell with nothing but fury, resolve, and
strength of will. How could she explain to J.J. that nothing short of
annihilation would stop him, that his soul and the soil of Virginia were
inseparable?

“This may be your final chance,” he said.

Andrea sighed deeply, thinking of everything she
had battled for and how confused and distorted it seemed. She looked again at
J.J., but her thoughts were miles away. “He’s dangerous, you know,” she said,
as if revealing information new to him. “Too fearless and stubborn and loyal
for his own good.”

“Perhaps that’s why you love him.”

Andrea blinked. “
Love
him?”

“You little fool.” He shook her gently again,
his eyes full of pity. He, more than anyone, knew she had never witnessed love
in her childhood, and had certainly not observed it within the midst of the
raging war. “You do know you love him, don’t you?”

“But I’m— I mean … he’s—”

“My dear, love of country should not exclude you
from loving a man. You have sacrificed enough.”

“But I don’t know if I can.” She looked up into
his eyes. “How can I love him and be loyal to the Union?”

He pulled her toward him again. “Just let your
heart see what your eyes cannot. You love him, and you cannot will it
otherwise.”

Andrea
nodded, staring over his shoulder, thinking back upon the longing, the
yearning, the need for him that had never diminished in all their time apart.
She smiled and felt something new and elating awakening within her. “How soon
will you move? You will give me time? Engage while I am there?”

J.J. gazed into her eyes and smiled, as if he
saw in her resolute face the secret that had long lain dormant in her heart. “I
will do what I must—as you must do. I will try to give you until tomorrow
afternoon, but already Washington is breathing down my neck. You must tell him
if he surrenders, he will be preventing the useless effusion of blood.

“I will tell him,” Andrea said, suddenly
hopeless again. “But it will do no good.”

Chapter
62

“Duty is the most sublime word in our language. Do your duty
in all things.

You cannot do more. You should never wish to do less.”

– General Robert E. Lee

“Kulnel, the boys got someone trying to get
through our lines.” Hunter looked up at Malone from the map he’d been studying
with his officers. “What does he know?”

“Can’t get a thing out of him one way or
another. Says he wants to speak to you.”

“I don’t have time for a private consultation
with a—” Hunter’s gaze drifted to the window where he saw the lone figure being
held at gunpoint about twenty yards away. He shifted his focus to Carter and
then to the other men in the room. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Perhaps it’d be best
if I see what he has to say. Send him in, Lieutenant Malone.”

When the other officers had departed and the
door opened again, Hunter stared at the figure who stared at the floor. His
heart sank and swelled at the sight of the slender form whose boots and
trousers were splattered with mud. His nerves quivered and tingled at the
danger she had placed herself in by coming, and his mind whirled at what could
possibly have been her motive for doing so. He dismissed the escort with an
impassive nod, hoping it masked the hurricane of feeling raging within.

Hunter heard the door latch close, but waited
for her to speak. He could not help but remember with anguish the torment of
their last meeting. And deep down, he possessed little hope there was to be a
sudden reconciliation now.

* * *

 “The impending attack,” Andrea started,
swallowing hard in mid-sentence at the sight of Hunter’s stalwart form staring
at her. “You cannot—”

There was something in his proud eyes and kingly
bearing that took her breath away. Face to face with him again, she could not
frame the words she had practiced to say. Andrea averted her eyes and tried to
catch her breath, recognizing for the first time she both worshiped and feared
this man’s size and martial masculinity.

“You did not come to ask me to surrender.”

Andrea looked up at the tone of disgust in his
voice and noticed his eyes seemed to portray deep annoyance.

“I have never surrendered and it is a little
late to be learning the meaning of the word now.” His focus moved from the
window to her face. “Surely you did not come here thinking to teach it to me.”

There was no affection or even friendliness in
his voice. His cold and uncaring tone was enough to freeze the blood in
Andrea’s veins.

“I should not have come.” Andrea took another
deep, shaky breath. Riding into his heavily armed camp had not been half so
hard as facing him thus. “I would not have come,” she started again, “but you
will be facing General Jordan.” She exhaled loudly, relieved to have finally
finished her sentence.

“And that is why you are here?” Hunter threw his
hands up in the air. “It is the fate of war. It cannot be helped.”

Andrea closed her eyes from his look of scorn,
her cheeks burning. So this was to be the conclusion to what she hoped would be
a happy ending. She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “I understand. I’m
sorry to have disturbed you, sir.” She turned to leave.

“Wait.” Hunter walked up behind her and put his
hand on her shoulder. “You know that is a sacrifice I cannot make.” His voice
was softer now.

“Not even for me?” Andrea turned around,
imploring him with her eyes.

“You have no right to ask that which I have no
right to grant,” Hunter said. “It’s a matter of duty, not mere inclination,
that I must stand.”

Andrea stared solemnly out the window at the men
talking in small groups outside.

“Andrea, this is not about you and me. It’s
bigger than you and me. My Command, the Confederacy, demand I fight.”

“But the Cause is lost!”

“The Cause is not lost!” His voice rose in
anger. “And we may yet prove it with another victory.”