Chapter Nine
As the first light of day streamed through the small holes of the "curtains" that hung in the bedroom, Jarrod opened his eyes and let out a groan. He felt as if a train had run over him a thousand times over. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, it took a few more minutes to remember where he was and why. While his side ached like crazy, Jarrod felt sure his small fever that had lingered for days was finally gone; at least he hoped it was. It was only then that he finally took the time look at what he was wearing, along with the fact that his guardian angel was sleeping on the floor, beside his bed. "Guess I best be glad they had something for me to wear beside a union uniform." Jarrod thought as he realized the shirt (which was just a tad too large) and pants he was wearing were, most likely, Kyle James'. His thoughts then turned to Georgia, who was beginning to stir.
Jarrod tried to move, but found himself too weak. He let out a 'humph' and tried to sit up again anyway. The 'humph' woke Georgia and she sat straight up and then, when she realized Captain Barkley was indeed awake, she stood up. Out of habit, she automatically laid her hand upon his forehead.
"I think my fever finally broke." He smiled up at his angel of mercy.
Georgia gave him a kindly smile, but shook her head. "It's definitely gone down from last night, but it's not completely gone. Here," she said as she again propped him up against the pillows and made sure he was covered up good, "don't try to move, while I go start a fire."
Jarrod might have some of the facts confused; however, he still remembered what Mr. James' had been concerned about. "Shouldn't we just get moving?" He asked as Georgia walked out of the bedroom and began working on getting a fire going.
Georgia shrugged her shoulders knowing they had no choice, but to spend at least one day in the home, or to travel at night and take the risk to their health. "In spite of what Mr. James' thought we can't afford too. We might have moved further away from Kirksville and the future might prove that that the fightin' there will help consolidate Union dominance in this part of Missouri; however, we can't pin our hopes on that. Fact is, while there ain't much chance of anyone comin' by, I still fear there's too much activity in this area durin' the day." She answered, as she got the fire going and stood back up, throwing one of the logs she'd found outside in the barn and hauled inside into the fire as she did so. She then walked over to the bedroom doorway and pointed out the danger they would have of running into men such as the Missouri Raiders. "Besides, ya can't take travelin' at night two nights in a row, not durin' this time of the year anyway; at least, not in the shape yer in."
Jarrod didn't like it, only he knew she spoke the truth. Though, as he looked at the fire going in the fireplace, he found himself voice the same concern Mr. James' had had. "Won't someone see the smoke and come to see who's moved in?"
That question had Georgia smiling wide, as she tilted her head towards the front of the house. "I found a couple of old signs and hung 'em on the door and in the kitchen window." She chuckled as she said, "They might knock on the door, only ain't nobody gonna come inside. However," she grew somber as she continued speaking, "If ya hear anythin' outside or someone knocks, lose yer voice. Some people might say we're the ones ta have an accent; we say it's them."
Jarrod wasn't going to argue with that, as she excused herself saying she was going to fix him a bite for him to eat. While Georgia was fixing him breakfast… which he was sure was going to be a small amount, not only due to his health issues, but their limited provisions…he began to think on exactly what helping him was costing the young woman. It amazed him that one as young as she was; at least, she appeared to be young, could have such compassion and mercy in her. Many people would feel sorry for him, but not enough to help…and sure not enough to turn their backs on everything they'd ever known. He knew full well Georgia could have easily turned him over to the Confederate army and he would have wound up in some prison somewhere. That is, if he'd even lived.
"How old are you?" Jarrod asked, as Georgia handed him what did indeed turn out to be a very small breakfast on the tin plates Mr. and Mrs. James' had sent with them. It was a question he normally wouldn't ask, but after his previous thoughts Jarrod just had to.
Georgia looked at and shook the thoughts that had entered her mind out. "Don't worry about it, Captain. I'm old enough." She began to turn away only to find Jarrod setting his plate down on his lap and taking a hold of her wrist.
"The name's Jarrod." He looked at her with admiration and gratitude in his eyes. "I know it's none of my concern in one way. On the other hand, I just have to know." Truth was he was concerned what would become of the young woman once he was back off Missouri soil and in Washington; if he wasn't sent back to his unit that is.
Jarrod's concern only grew when Georgia sat down at the side of his bed and answered slowly, "I'm seventeen, eighteen next month. How old are you?"
She was only seventeen? She wouldn't be eighteen until next month? Jarrod couldn't stop it; his jaw fell to the ground. It was a reaction that had Georgia smiling from ear to ear, and repeating her question. After all, if he was going to ask a young lady her age, she had the right to know how old he was.
"I turned twenty-three last week." Jarrod answered and then silently vowed to do what he could for Georgia once he was well. He went to say as much only to feel both of their hearts jump when a pounding came on the door.
