Chapter 32

CASSIE WAS BEING SHAKEN.

Invisible hands had clamped onto her body, jolting her like cannon fire. Was it her father? She couldn’t hear his curses. Time and reality were fuzzy, shifting like ripples of water. She couldn’t think past the cold wrapping its icy tentacles around her. Couldn’t even open her eyes.

Expressionless faces floated through her mind. The ends of rifles fired out bursts of flame. All around her, men in blue and gray ran through the mud screaming, bayonets flashing. Trees fell and shook the ground, making her knees wobble like a newborn colt’s.

She looked down at her grimy boots and blinked when a deep rumbling groan rattled the earth. The ground cracked open. The yawning gap widened as man and beast fell into the abyss with bloodcurdling screams.

Gasping for air, she cringed as the shaking increased and the zigzag line separated the terrain. From across the divide, she sought and found Gabe’s handsome face. His arm was outstretched. His lips mouthed words, though at first she couldn’t hear him over the terrifying roar of the earthquake.

“Jump!”

She crawled toward the edge and peered into the nothingness that separated them. Snapping her eyes back to his, she choked out a sob.

“Jump!”

She shook her head. It was too far. She’d never make it.

The land pushed them so far apart, she could no longer see him. Breathing erratically, she rested her palm on a splintered oak. There was no one with her on this side of the divide. No one.

A rustle of bushes. She looked up.

Her father stood before her. They were the two remaining souls.

No!

A masculine voice murmured overhead. A damp rag soothed her fevered skin. “Shh. I’m here.”

The voice calmed her, chasing away the dark images and foreboding of doom.

In the hazy fog, a gentle hand stroked her brow. She grasped it and tugged it toward her, latching on to the warm flesh with urgency. Strong fingers curled around her own. Someone brushed a kiss to her forehead.

It was enough. She was safe for now.

Gabe poked at the fire, sending sparks flying upward into the dark sky, his mind whirling like a top. The fever had ravaged Cassie for two days. Two days of alternating between moving the wagon closer to Richmond and bathing her skin with cool water. He’d cradled her when her tremors had shaken her like laundry flapping on a clothesline. He’d kissed her head and murmured verses of soothing reassurance to her sleeping form. And during the hours she’d slipped into restful slumber, he’d urged the horses onward. They now sat only a mile away.

But none of it mattered if she perished.

Please, God, spare her.

He wasn’t a fool. He’d seen the effects of malaria at the Alexandria hospital. Most recovered from the dreaded malady. Others did not.

The flames hissed and popped as he wrapped a cloth around the coffeepot handle and pulled it from the fire.

“Gabe?”

Cassie’s soft voice caused him to jump up. She stood next to the Whatsit, her dark hair a riot. She gripped the wagon as if releasing it might cause her to crumple to the ground. Her face was pale and dark shadows smudged her eyes, but she was on her feet.

Dared he hope she was past the worst?

He took her arm and led her to the fire, supporting her slight weight as she leaned against him. He settled her on the ground, admiring the way her skirt puddled around her. Despite the effects of illness, she was lovely.

“Thank you.”

He filled the two tin cups with steaming black brew. Ribbons of steam curled and rose. He passed the cup to her waiting hands. “How are you feeling?”

She smiled faintly as she gripped the cup. “Weak. Some better, though. At least the tremors have ceased. How long have I been ill?”

“Two days.”

She gasped. “Two days? What about the assignment?”

“Don’t fret. We’re only a mile from Richmond.”

She blinked. “You took care of me and moved us forward?” Something akin to gratitude flooded her face.

He pushed away the pleasure at her response. “The Lord has preserved us from danger or delay. And you slept deeply yesterday afternoon, which helped us travel faster.” He sipped the bitter brew and grimaced. Chicory was a poor substitute for coffee.

“Did I, uh, say or do anything unseemly while I was ill?” An uncharacteristic expression of vulnerability flitted across her features.

He shook his head. “No, nothing.”

Her shoulders sagged as she released a sigh laden with relief.

“Except for confessing your undying love for me.”

Her cheeks blushed crimson. “I did not.”

Chuckling, he took another sip. “Guess that’s for me and the Almighty to know.”

She bit her lip and looked into her cup.

A gunshot blasted in the warm evening air, sending reverberations through the hills. He heard Cassie’s sudden intake of air. He frowned and scanned the trees surrounding them. “That was close.”

A rustling sounded beyond the line of brush. Gabe set his cup on the ground and rose, reaching for the rifle not a foot away. “Stay here.”

He lifted the weapon to his shoulder and moved in the direction of the noise. Cassie’s soft steps fell behind his, her skirt whooshing like a whisper.

“I said to stay behind.”

Her whisper was terse. “I’m a better shot than you.”

Inwardly groaning, he gave up trying to convince her and crept farther into the woods. A low moan prickled the hair on the back of his neck.

Cassie clutched his elbow. “Gabe, look!”

Twenty paces ahead, a body lay on the ground.

“Stay behind me.”

They crept closer, and the limp form emitted another whimper. Rifle raised, Gabe called out, “Who are you?”

The body shifted, moaning. “Shot.”

He crouched and rolled the stranger over. A man with a sparse black beard looked back, his eyes pinched. The thick cords of his neck shifted as he swallowed. His hands clutched his stomach, where a circle of crimson was spreading.

“Been shot.”

Cassie knelt and began ripping the hem of her petticoat.

Gabe grasped the stranger’s blood-slicked hand. “What’s your name? What happened?”

The man clenched his jaw and released a guttural cry from deep in his throat. “Name’s Ernest Beauregard.” He swallowed again, hissing through his teeth. “Shot by my no-account brother.”

Cassie pressed a wad of torn fabric to the wound bubbling blood. “We heard the shot. Is he still around?”

Ernest scowled. “The coward hightailed it out of here. Good thing too, or I’d be putting a bullet through his heart.”

Gabe sought Cassie’s eyes. She shook her head. He turned back to the man and clutched his hand tighter. “The bleeding is bad.”

Ernest coughed and winced, his chest heaving. “I ain’t gonna make it, am I?”

Bowing his head, Gabe murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Ernest nodded stiffly, his eyes searching the sunset-streaked sky overhead. “So be it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Wouldn’t change what?”

The dying man huffed a deep breath and grimaced. “Burning down my brother’s barn. I come home one day and found him with my wife.” A deep gurgle rattled his chest. “The snake deserved it. We never did get along. He was always looking for ways to hurt me.”

What could he possibly say? “I’m sorry.”

Ernest fought for breath. “Ma always said I should forgive him. Never would. I guess this is the natural end, then. We fight until one of us is destroyed. I’ll be going first, but I’ll take my dignity with me.”

Gabe heard Cassie’s sharp intake of breath. He kept his eyes trained on the man’s ashen face. Blood ran from the corners of his mouth. His pupils dilated, then shrank to pinpoints.

“If you see a fellow that looks like a scrawny version of myself, you shoot him for me, you hear?” With a deep wheeze, Ernest shuddered and his eyes glazed. His hand went limp as life siphoned from his body. His head rolled to the side, his mouth slack.

Gone.

Gabe released Ernest’s sticky crimson hand and peered over his shoulder. Cassie sat still as a statue, her hands and cloth still pressed to the man’s stomach. Her face bore a haunted look.

A single tear tracked down the smooth skin of her cheek.