* * *
Jesse eluded Union pursuit for several days. As Jack had promised, he knew the country and where to hide. He longed to follow Jack to New Madrid, to hold Diamond in his arms again and see with his own eyes that she was safe, but was honor-bound to return to his regiment. Besides, if the soldiers found his trail, he didn’t want to lead them to Jack or cause trouble for Diamond and Janet.
He lived off the rations they had stolen from town, supplementing with berries he found in the woods or crops he took from nearby fields. He didn’t hunt, not wanting to risk the noise of a gunshot.
He angled southwest, hoping to intercept the retreating Confederates, but knowing they were probably already in Arkansas. They would make far better time on horseback than he could on foot unless they had to stop and face Union troops in battle. If he didn’t meet up with his unit, he planned to go to Little Rock where his father would know where they were.
He moved quickly to evade pursuit but was in no real hurry to rejoin his regiment. His regret at enlisting grew with every month the war dragged on. War wasn’t honorable, as he had thought when he signed up. Their actions in the town sickened him even more than the blood and violence of a pitched battle. And he would never forget the fear he’d felt when he saw Jack collapse. War was blood, guts, fear, and sweat all rolled up together. His father had been right. War was hell.
At night he slept in his bedroll, not bothering with the tent in the July heat. He hoped Jack had made it safely home and prayed the Unions soldiers had given up and gone back to their ranks, or better yet, had never picked up their trail at all. Before he slept each night, he read his latest letter from Diamond. She had a way with words and he understood how she had made her living as a reporter, although he was still fuzzy with concepts such as television and uneasy about women working alongside men. He wasn’t sure why he found it so disturbing. Diamond was surely as capable as any man he knew.
She and Janet would do their best to help Jack, but he hoped doing so didn’t put them in danger. After his experiences in town, Jesse no longer thought it a good idea for Diamond and Janet to move back to New Madrid which was firmly in Union control. His sister might be safe, considering she was engaged to a Union officer, but as the wife of a Confederate soldier, Diamond might be fair game for harassment—or worse.
Most nights he dozed, but eventually exhaustion got the upper hand and he slept deeply, dreamlessly. The next morning he felt better than he had since the raid on the town. By his reckoning he was close to the Arkansas border and would soon be within the relative safety of Confederate territory.
After a quick breakfast of dried fruit and hardtack, he continued on his way, keeping to the woods as much as possible. As the sun climbed in the sky and the water level in his canteen dipped, he looked for signs of a stream. Catching sight of one in the distance, he altered course just as a bullet tore past his head and buried itself in a tree. He hit the ground rolling almost before the echo of the gunshot faded.
He crawled behind a tree and surveyed the area. Nothing looked out of place, but the birds had fallen silent. A small animal skittered through the dry leaves on the forest floor. Jesse’s heart raced, pounding in his ears so loud he thought his assailant must surely hear it. He took deep breaths, trying to slow its frantic pace.
A twig cracked underfoot and Jesse fired at the sound. A blast came from his right and he fired there, too. How many were there? Jesse had two six-shot pistols and extra ammunition, but with only the tree for cover, he wouldn’t be able to hold off a superior force for long.
Silence stretched his nerves. Then another blast, closer this time. He needed to move. Keeping low to the ground, he dashed from his hiding spot. Shots kicked up the dirt at his feet as he dove behind another tree. Jesse returned fire.
“You’re outnumbered. Give yourself up,” one man yelled.
And then what? Will they take him prisoner or kill him on the spot? Jesse kept quiet, slipping towards the creek. Could he outrun them? He heard the gentle splash of water over rocks. Nearly there. The banks were higher than he expected, high enough to make a stand. He dropped to the edge of the water. Glimpsing blue to his right, he fired. An answering yell told him he’d hit his mark. Had he evened the odds or only wounded the other man?
Fire erupted from the left, but the bullets dug harmlessly into his earthen shield. They were wasting ammunition. Jesse took off, running alongside the creek and splashing through it when necessary. His foot slipped on a rock and he went down hard on one knee.
“Hold it right there.”
Jesse stilled, knee throbbing. He heard the click of a pistol being cocked and a shiver coursed down his spine.
“Drop the pistol and put your hands on your head. Get up real slow now.”
Jesse complied, tossing his gun several feet away, clasping his hands behind his head and staggering to his feet. He swayed as his knee buckled beneath him, but kept his footing.
“Turn around.”
Jesse pivoted, looking into the hard eyes of a Union soldier.
“You shot one of my men.”
“They were shooting at me.”
“Damned bushwhacker.” Never lowering his weapon, the man stepped forward and wrenched Jesse’s spare gun from the waistband of his trousers.
“I’m regular army, just like you.”
“Regular armies don’t attack civilians.”
“I follow orders. And we had it on good authority that
