When the Splendor Falls (46 page)

“Wouldn’t mind rasslin’ that sweet reb to the ground, but s’pose rank has its privileges.”

“All clear, ain’t no Johnny reb hotfootin’ it after her, Cap’n,” the guard at the door said, shutting it firmly.

“Always suspected them rebs were fools, leavin’ a pretty lil’ thing like this one all by her lonesome.”

“What we goin’ to do, Cap’n? Can’t let her go, can we?”

“Reckon she’d turn us in, eh?”

“With them pretty
Yankee
blue eyes?”

“She’s wearin’
rebel
gray, Billy Yank, don’t ever be forgettin’ that.”

“The way we was ambushed, somebody already ratted on us.”

“Can’t understand it, Cap’n. Where’d them rebs come from? How’d they know we was there? Almost like they was sittin’ in wait fer us, like they was already riled up about something. Never happened like that before. We come close to gettin’ caught, sure, but we’ve always managed to slip out of the noose them rebs been tryin’ to tighten around our necks.”

“And we’ll escape the noose this time, Johnson,” his captain replied matter-of-factly and apparently setting his men’s minds at rest because Leigh heard the sighs of relief and saw the exchange of glances that followed his easy statement.

“Hell, all we did was blow up that little railroad trestle,” someone said with a grin.

“And the gun, don’t forget that,” another chuckling voice reminded proudly.

“Yeah, but that shouldn’t have gotten them that mad. Made ’em madder last month blowin’ up that depot full o’ pork barrels. We been real good little boys since then.”

“Reckon them rebs been lookin’ fer us that long, an’ they’re just now findin’ us!” the man called Johnson said with a guffaw that had his friends laughing, and the tension in the stables easing almost visibly as a number of them started grinning and trading jokes.

Raiders
, Leigh thought, eyeing them as if they’d suddenly sprouted horns, especially Neil Braedon.

He stood just inside the stable doors, his relaxed attitude giving the impression he’d just come down from the big house and was awaiting the saddling of his hunter for a leisurely morning ride across country to enjoy a bit of gentlemanly shooting of pheasant. He stood so tall, so arrogant, so self-assured, that Leigh wasn’t surprised his men had confidence in him, but Leigh had been the only one who had felt the momentary tightening of his hard fingers around her hand when he’d reassured his men about the prospective ease of their escape.

Leigh was breathing a little easier herself, for even if Neil was the enemy, and he held her captive, she was not as frightened as before, after all, as he himself had said, they were old friends. And even if there were some old scores left to be settled between them, she could not believe he would allow his men to harm her. And as some of her fears left her, she gradually became aware of the men grouped around her. Their faces were soot-blackened and bloodied, and some, she now realized, were badly wounded, unable to stand or even sit as they huddled together miserably in the stables.

“Beals, you’re on watch,” Neil ordered brusquely, moving along the passageway, and pulling Leigh along with him, but as his men closed in around their figures, she suddenly found she didn’t mind being under his protection, at least for the moment. “Hendricks, stay sharp,” he called to the man on duty at the far end of the stables.

“Yo, Cap’n,” the man said, his hand resting easy on his rifle as he leaned a shoulder against the stable wall, the door cracked just enough for him to see the lane disappearing down toward the river.

“Patterson, keep an eye out that window. Watch for anything moving in the woods to the southeast. If they’ve managed to track us this far, they’ll be coming from that direction. I want us out of here before that happens,” Neil said, glancing around at the stables as if sizing it up as a possible stronghold.

“Reckon if they stumble across us, it’ll be just that. Dumb luck,” someone grumbled.

“Yeah, ’cause we didn’t leave no tracks, ’specially comin’ through the woods single file the way we did.”

“Best way of keepin’ ’em guessin’ ’bout how many of us there is. They’ll come in real slow like, worryin’ so. Wouldn’t want to be trackin’ the cap’n, I wouldn’t, or even tracked
by
the cap’n,” he said, thinking of all the tricks the captain had up his sleeve. They said the captain had Indian blood in him, and even if he didn’t look it, half of them believed the tale.

“How are you doing, McGuire?” Neil asked, releasing Leigh’s hand as he squatted down beside a man whose pallor and bloodstained overcoat left little doubt that he was suffering.

“No fancy jigs, Cap’n, reckon they got the fiddler,” he said, trying to grin, but his mouth wobbled and a spot of blood appeared where he’d bitten into his lower lip trying to control its trembling.

“Wishes he had that Dutchwoman here to keep him warm, I bet.”

“Aye, now that she could, with plenty of warmth left over fer the rest of ye lads, if I was in a mind to share,” McGuire said, grimacing when he moved his shoulder trying to laugh. “But it takes an Irishman to handle the reins when ridin’ her. ’Course, reckon I might not be man enough fer her right now,” he said faintly, falling back as he tried to sit up.

“We’ll fix you up just fine, McGuire.”

“Ain’t goin’ to leave me to rot away in some reb hospital, are ye, Cap’n?” he asked worriedly. “Figure ye might as well put me out of my misery now. Don’t want no one hackin’ away at me piece by piece,” he said, shivering uncontrollably as he thought of gangrene spreading through his body.

“No one gets left behind.”

McGuire nodded. “Faith, but I’ve been wantin’ to ask you this, Cap’n. Don’t know much about ye, sir, not even yer given name, but I was bettin’ the lads that ye had a wee spot of Irish in ye. Ye would, now, wouldn’t ye? ’Cause I been figurin’ that ’twas only an Irishman I’d have followed grinnin’ into hell an’ back like that, an’ singeing off me eyebrows to boot.”

“My mother was Irish,” Neil told him quietly.

“There, ye can’t be foolin’ an’ Irishman. ’Tis in the blood, ’tis. That does me heart good. Reckon ’twas meant to be, after all. But what I wouldn’t give now, to be back in Ireland,” he murmured, grimacing. “An’ what is her name, Cap’n? Something lyrical, to be sure?”

“Fionnuala,” Neil said, frowning as the Irishman closed his eyes against the pain.

“Like music in me ears,” he said, slurring his words slightly. “Is she still livin’?”

“No.”

“A real pity that. Bet she was a fine woman. All Irish women are. Best mothers in the world, they are. An’ d’ye have any other family, then?”

“A father.”

“But not Irish, I’m thinkin’, ’cause ye got a hard, mean streak in ye, Cap’n, an’ that’s got to be English blood.”

“No, he’s not Irish,” his captain answered, wanting to keep the Irishman talking so he wouldn’t lapse into unconsciousness.

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“A young sister, and two brothers. One too young to fight, the other lost in the war. And, once, I had an older sister. Her name was Shannon,” Neil said, speaking her name aloud for the first time in years, and it sounded strange on his tongue.

“
Shannon
. ’Tis the loveliest name in all of Ireland, I’m thinkin’.” McGuire sighed. “Did ye know, Cap’n, I was born on the green banks of the River Shannon. ’Tis a fine, ancient river flowin’ through the heart of Ireland. When a wee lad, I used to sit on the bank, watchin’ the waters flowin’ by. They gently touched the land, leavin’ it green an’ fertile before flowin’ on into the sea, flowin’ on forever, I was thinkin’, an’ I wanted to reach out an’ stop them from leavin’ me, an’ when I couldn’t, then I wanted to follow wherever the river flowed, but again I couldn’t. I could never quite catch it, an’ the river disappeared, to be embraced by its true love, the sea. Ah, I was jealous, that I was. Felt betrayed, I did. But the next mornin’, the river, my Shannon, was still there, flowin’ by, and I knew then that it remained a part of the people, of the heart always,” he mumbled drowsily.

Shannon Malveen.
Yes, his sister Shannon was like McGuire’s beloved river, Neil thought sadly. Flowing on forever, disappearing from sight, but always a part of the heart. If only he had understood like McGuire had. So much had been lost because he hadn’t. She-With-Eyes-Of-The-Captured-Sky had tried to tell him she would always be with him in spirit, and in the heart…but he hadn’t listened, hadn’t believed.

“He’ll die if we don’t stop the bleeding,” Leigh said softly, jolting Neil from his memories. She was staring down at the Irishman, a pitying look in her eyes.

“
We?
” Neil said doubtfully, glancing up at her, but she was already kneeling beside the young, sandy-haired lieutenant, his soft blue eyes behind his round-rimmed spectacles suddenly reminding her of Palmer William.

Gently, Leigh touched the lock of hair that fell across the young lieutenant’s brow, feeling the clamminess of his skin beneath her fingertips, his breathing labored as he struggled to draw breath into his lungs. “I think you’ve cracked a couple of ribs.”

“I have?” he whispered, apparently unconcerned as his lips curved into a smile as he stared up at her, his hand reaching out to grasp hers. Leigh frowned slightly, for there had been a definite look of recognition in his glance.

“My father was always breaking a rib or two. He loved to ride, but sometimes he couldn’t keep his seat, especially when he’d been into the corn liquor,” she said, smiling down at the wide-eyed lieutenant, trying to reassure him. “In fact, one night, he’d enjoyed himself rather too much at the punch bowl, and the next morning, still not quite himself, he went out and saddled the fence instead of Apothecary Rose, his favorite hunter,” Leigh said, hearing a snorting laugh from one of the men close enough to have heard her story.

“I’m afraid I’m not even that much of a horseman. Not like the cap’n,” he said, gazing up at Neil as if he were some kind of a god. “He didn’t leave me to them rebs, miss. Could’ve though. But he came swooping down on me and carried me off just like the wind,” the lieutenant said.

“Ain’ never seen nothin’ like it.”

“Left them rebs openmouthed an’ lookin’ stupid,” someone recalled.

“There’re goin’ to be even more wild stories told before this night’s over about the devil cap’n an’ his death-defyin’ men.”

“Hey, Lieutenant. You’re still goin’ to write it all down, ain’t ye? Figure it’d make me and my folks mighty proud to read ’bout it after the war. Ain’t no one who’d believe it otherwise. Think I’m shammin’ them. Somebody back in Springfield I’d kinda like to impress. Be the proudest day of my life when people find out I rode with the cap’n. Jus’ be sure to spell my name right.”

“I will, Schneickerberger,” Lieutenant Chatham promised weakly.

Leigh glanced up at Neil, the captain these men seemed to idolize, and, apparently, were willing to die for.

“Do you have anything to treat these wounds?” she demanded, getting stiffly to her feet, her knees threatening to buckle, especially when the young lieutenant refused to release her hand, but Neil’s hand was there, steadying her.

“Enough,” he answered shortly, wondering why she should be interested.

“I have clean linens up at the big house. They make fine bandages. And Jolie has special medicinal salves that can keep the infection from these wounds setting in. She’s a healer, and half-Cherokee,” she reminded him. “Otherwise, your men won’t last long enough to leave Travers Hill. We also have a big pot of broth simmering on the hearth. I think that would do better than anything to help your men regain their strength.”

“Don’t have some of yer pappy’s corn liquor ’round?” someone asked hopefully.

“Can’t trust her, Cap’n. Probably put poison in it,” a suspicious-sounding voice commented.

“Have you wondered why, although shabby, our home still stands?” Leigh asked. “It was used as a field hospital by federal troops. I helped the surgeons. I do know how to treat your men’s wounds, and if that ball is still in that man’s shoulder, then it will have to come out. Will you let me help?”

“Why should you want to? You haven’t any love for bluebellies, do you?” Neil asked coldly, but it was the raider Captain Dagger who stared into Leigh’s eyes, searching for the truth. There was too much at stake to make a mistake now because he trusted the wrong person.

Leigh glanced down at Lieutenant Chatham, who still held onto her hand, at the Irishman, who was watching her with feverishly bright eyes, then at the other wounded men, some beginning to shiver from the cold. “I don’t care what color their uniforms are, Captain. The men who murdered my father were wearing gray,” she said quietly. “I shot them and buried them out back. I don’t want to have to bury these two. They, at least, deserve better,” she said, not seeing the looks of amazement, and grudging admiration, that crossed several Yankee faces.

“I can help your men,” she repeated.

“Travers word of honor?” Neil asked.

Leigh met his searching gaze steadily, knowing his question had been meant sarcastically. “Yes, on my word of honor as a Travers,” she said simply, holding out her other hand to him. “Other things may have changed at Travers Hill, but not that. And if you doubt me, then think of this as one way of getting you off Travers land,” she added.

“Sure we can trust her, Cap’n?” someone asked doubtfully, remembering another sweet-faced Southern woman who’d held a long-barreled musket on them, threatening to blow them to kingdom come before she’d missed her aim and blown off the top of the weather vane by mistake.

Neil stared down at the small hand he’d grasped in his. He turned it over curiously, having felt the hard calluses on the palm. It was a work-roughened, capable hand he held, and as he met her steady gaze, he knew that her word was good.

“Cap’n!” the man who’d been standing guard at the far door cried out suddenly. “We got company! Reb patrol, comin’ up the road on foot.”

Captain Dagger was beside him before anyone could move.

“Got more, Cap’n, comin’ out of the woods. Looks like a troop of cavalry.”

Their captain glanced around, cursing himself for getting them trapped in the stables. As long as they could ride, they’d always been out of reach of any foolhardy rebels seeking vengeance. But now there was no way out. They would have to stand and fight.