Edward, still to the side, managed to reload his weapon.
Ada couldn’t move. Richard stood and walked over to her.
“Ada, please. I need you to stay.”
As the truth started to make sense, she snorted. “Why? So I can continue to work, slaving away as it was, in a hospital, helping all I could, for you to tempt me later? For a promise of later that never came? And never would?”
“You can’t be serious about going with a Rebel! Good grief, he’s a slave owner, for Christ’s sake!” He snarled. “Oh, I remember lovely Miss Cerisa and her family. If you go with him, you’ll regret it. The story of his lifestyle will make you sick. Sick!”
As he threw the jabs at her, she realized she was stepping away from him and right towards Francois. Granted, Francois was what she despised, but he hadn’t promised her the world, nor lied about what he was. She glanced up to him. The Rebel nodded.
Another volley of cannon-fire rained to the side of them, getting closer.
She could see his side bleeding through the bandage she hadn’t secured, being pulled away by Richard’s denial. Suddenly, Edward was at her side, handing her her bag and offering her a leg up.
At this point, the wounded Hillsdale had thrown his hands in the air. He’d ordered the other soldier to grab Richard’s mount and they waited.
“Miss, if you go with him, your safety is in danger,” the commander warned her.
As she settled into the seat, this time behind Francois, she looked at the Federals, refusing to believe what was happening. Instead, she looked at the man she had thought she loved, the one she’d waited for and suddenly, found him not what she wanted. Instead, the man before her was a better option.
“Good bye Richard.”
Chapter 38
“We have now ended the sixth day of very heavy fighting [and] the result up to this time is much in our favor. I intend to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer.”
—General US Grant wired to President Lincoln,
May 11, 1864
It was a long afternoon. The ride was long, troublesome and he was too tired, too much in pain and too hungry but he was thankful. Despite everything, the woman who sat behind him, arms wrapped around his stomach, was now his.
That, he realized, was a bit presumptive on his part. He had ridden off with this lovely vixen despite the fact that he was a Southerner and a slave owner. The bit that vermin had hinted at, about his ‘lifestyle’, irritated him. He’d stopped that practice well over a year ago. The history that lasted years, though, and plagued his conscience now, was because of her. So he did his best to wipe it from his mind, for they were still in Virginia and heading south without another thought.
The silence over the last few hours was deadly. Periodically, he felt her shudder against him and he was sure she was crying. All he could do was be steady for her, but said nothing. They’d left the Wilderness right as both armies went at it again. He directed them South, not to either army, and no one complained. He hadn’t given the direction much thought, until now. Location and food rang high in his thoughts. Though water was first, as his canteen was empty.
Edward must have thought of that, too as the colored servant skirted ahead only to return not long after, the wool cover of his canteen dripping.
“Sergeant, there’s a creek up ahead. Water still clear.”
“Thank you, Edward.” Clean water was such an oddity nowadays, he thought. So much blood from battles often spilled into water source, making camp life hard. With a sigh, he stopped the horse and slid off while Edward stood close by to help Ada down. He watched, hoping she’d look at him or at least say a word but she did neither. What was going through her mind? He could only imagine the hearsay and wild thoughts prompted by that lowlife back there.
He dipped his canteen in the water, every move hurting. His body was racked with pain and to add the scrape on his side nearly made him collapse but he didn’t. Thankfully. Breathing hard, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it against his face, relishing in the coolness. With some stiffness, he rose and took the canteen to Ada, with thoughts of giving her his and filling hers but when he did the exchange, her dull expression changed. Her eyes caught on fire and without forewarning, she swung and slapped his cheek again, sending his hat to the ground.
Stunned, he stared at her.
“How dare you!”
Francois breathed deeply, picking his hat off the ground and ran his fingers through his hair before jamming the hat on his head.
“You should be mad at him,” he finally blurted. “You just don’t like me being the one to tell you the truth!”
But she was pacing.
“Why didn’t I know?”
He picked up her canteen, headed toward the water and he refused to answer her. Edward stood to the side, his soaked wool-covered canteen sweated on his twill pants while he chewed on the long grass blade.
Francois wiped his mouth after another sip and screwed the top back onto her canteen. “I believe you were given hints.”
“Ha!” She stormed away.
“He is vermin, the worse you’ve met. Be thankful you learned before it got worse.” Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized she didn’t want to hear that. He braced for another slap.
“Where the hell are we?”
He chuckled. “Good question. Virginia still, but south of the armies. Out of range, I reckon.”
“Yes, sir. The battle is raging thata way,” Edward added, pointing in the direction from which they’d come.
He nodded.
“And so where we headed then?”
“Gotta find you a way home,” he muttered.
“Home? Pennsylvania? I can’t go there!” She sounded appalled.
“Why not?”
“Because…because…I just can’t. The ride wouldn’t be safe, you can’t escort me and simply leave me there!”
He
