Chapter One

~oOo~

Victoria stood in the living room staring into the fire. She felt so numb, and the tears she'd cried could have filled any creek, flowing through their ranch, with water ten times over. When she heard footsteps behind her, she turned to see Tom, who seemed to have aged twenty years, entering the room. She turned back to the fire and to the telegram in her hand. It was from the military and it had just arrived that morning. With a Civil War tearing the land apart, the last thing she'd wanted to hear was that one of her sons was missing. Both of her boys who were old enough to be in the war had been home for a visit just a few days ago. The family had laughed and visited for hours on end, and then they'd both gone back to the reality of the war. Tears again ran down her face. How could either one of them be missing?

"He'll find his way back from where ever he's at, or someone will find him Vic; I just know it." Tom walked up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around Victoria's waist. However, she stiffened and, for a moment, Tom was sure she was going to pull away. He was relieved when she slowly relaxed and leaned against his chest.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Victoria spoke softly, "that someone will find him." There was no need for her to specify she feared a confederate soldier would be the one to find her missing son.

Tom sighed and said nothing. He simply held onto his wife and prayed for a miracle.

~oOo~

Georgia Marshall stepped out onto her father's porch and breathed in the fresh night air. It was so peaceful and quiet; quite the deception, considering the fighting her and her family had heard taking place not a mile down the road earlier. All this fighting made her rather ill. Brother against brother, father against son, all she could see was one huge family feud. How she wished it would end. Just as she was about to go back inside, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was going into the barn! Actually, from what she could see, they were stumbling more than walking into the barn. With her widowed father away, helping her brother, who had been seriously wounded and sent home to his family, Georgia stepped inside the house, grabbed a rifle which was kept loaded at all times, and then ran down the steps and towards the barn.

While she did not know who the uninvited guest was, Georgia could only guess, and not knowing which side he was on or what he would do, she wasn't about to simply barge into the barn. Instead, once she was by the large barn wall, she slowly and quietly made her way to the barn's back entrance. It was already part way opened, making it rather easy to glance inside unseen.

When she saw the stranger sitting on the floor, and leaning against the front of a stall, Georgia stepped inside with her rifle ready to fire if need be. It was only then she saw her visitor clearly, a man dressed in the uniform of a union officer…and he'd been wounded.

When she stepped inside, the dark hair stranger who had made his way into the barn was holding his right where he had obviously been shot. He turned his head and found himself holding his breath until the young woman took another step towards him. "Please," he spoke through the pain he was in, "help me."

A part of Georgia wanted to shoot the man right then and there. Only she couldn't, and that left her with a dilemma. Her father would have killed the man on sight. The injuries her one brother had received, another brother being killed and then another still fighting the north had entrenched hatred in her father. He despised anyone who chose to wear a union uniform. Still, Georgia hesitated… "Who are ya? What unit are ya with?" She asked standing her ground and keeping the rifle pointed at her visitor.

"Name's J...Jarrod, Captain Jarrod Barkley." Jarrod answered as he winced in pain. For a moment he thought about lying to the woman; after all, the truth might get him killed even faster. Then again, if he was to die, he wasn't going to leave his mortal existence with lies on his soul either. "I have been serving in the 10th Cavalry Regiment."

Puzzled, Georgia lowered the rifle and hurried over to him. She knelt down beside him and, moving his hand off his wound, examined it. "Did ya get shot in the process of desertin'?" She didn't care for desertion from either side; still, she could understand why many young men did it.

"No, I…" Jarrod again thought about lying, but felt strongly that, if he wanted any chance of surviving, he needed to be honest with the woman who had found him. "I was supposed to be on a train. I was being sent to Washington, but my unit was attacked earlier today, before I had a chance to leave." He thought it was unnecessary to say just who attacked them. After all, what unit of the Confederate attacked them was irrelevant.

Georgia realized she had an even larger dilemma on her hands. It would be extremely difficult to convince her father they should not turn their back on a wounded soldier no matter what side he was on. But, to convince him to actually help someone who had anything to do with Washington D.C. would be flat out impossible. With that being the case, she only had a few choices she could see. One, hide him in the barn and help him the best she could, or two, hide him in their basement and help him or, three, take him a neighbor's home…one that was known to be a conscientious objector and hope they'd help her with him.

Since her father spent too much time in the barn, she quickly checked that option off the list. Thinking on the basement, Georgia had to write it off the list too. The nights were growing colder and, as long as it might take Mr. Barkley to recover, it could very well be far too cold for him down there. No, the more she thought about it the more Georgia realized taking him, in the cover of darkness; to her neighbor's was the only real option she had. Only question she had now was 'did she really want to risk all for the enemy?'