Chapter Twenty-One

Jarrod, who was once again outside chopping wood, stopped and leaned against the handle of the axe. His mind was once again on the fact that he should be with his unit or in Washington. He thought on the map that Georgia had with her and sighed. He'd looked at it time and time again only problem was…it was no longer a complete map due to unintentional water damage that was done while he was ill. To try to use it to get to Illinois would be fruitless and only wind up putting him and Georgia who knows where. Just as he was about to go back to chopping wood he heard footsteps. Turning around he Jarrod found his heart jumping…a confederate soldier was standing not forty feet away, and he was holding a rifle in his hands, though it was pointed down towards the ground.

When Jarrod did not speak, the confederate soldier did. His accent was even more pronounced than Georgia's was. "I'm sorry, Sir. Ah did not mean to surprise ya. Ah…" the man looked rather uneasy as he paused and then said, "Ah got separated from mah unit. I was hopin', maybe ya had seen them."

Jarrod frowned ever so slightly. There was something about the way the man that didn't feel right, and it wasn't just the fact that he was on the South's side. Jarrod had never bothered to work on his accent as fate had always made it so he didn't have to. Now, with the strongest impression this man couldn't find out he was from the north, Jarrod started to answer in the best southern accent he could muster when Georgia appeared on the back porch. Unbeknownst to him, Georgia had not only seen the soldier approaching and opened the kitchen window just enough as to enable her to hear any words that were spoken. The moment the confederate soldier spoke, she knew she'd been right when she thought she recognized him.

"Paul Miser! Ya son of a gun, what are ya doin' 'round these parts? I thought yer unit was sent ta Kentucky!" Georgia hurried down the steps and conveniently put herself between Jarrod and Mr. Miser, an action that did not pass Jarrod by.

"Georgia? Georgia Marshall? kin't believe yer daddy let ya out of his sight!" Paul looked at Jarrod and then back at Georgia and made the only conclusion he could think of. "So, how did ya get yer daddy to let ya marry?"

Georgia might have told Paul the truth, only she knew him all too well. His hatred of anyone who fought for the north was as strong, if not stronger than her father's. If he found out who Jarrod really was, he would kill him without a second thought. "Have ya forgotten? I'm not a child anymore. Now, what are ya doin' here?"

"Mah unit is bein' sent to Saint Lois." He replied and then gave a frustrated chuckle, "but Ah got separated from them. Have ya seen them?"

"No one's been by here for a couple of months. Sorry," Georgia repeated what the Cannons had told her and did her best not to show how uncomfortable she was. It was bad enough that Paul was standing in the yard, but when the Cannons came out…would they unintentionally give the man ammo to use against Jarrod? Before Paul or she could say another word, she had her answer as Mr. Cannon stepped out of the house.

Mr. Cannon, wearing the widest grin he'd ever had on, walked down the steps and over to where Paul Miser stood. Holding out his hand, Mr. Cannon introduced himself. He then shocked Georgia and Jarrod as he turned and bellowed, "What do you think you're doing out of bed young man? How do you ever expect to get your voice and health completely back?" He then looked at Georgia that screamed 'if you want him alive, go along with me'. "Get that husband of yours back in bed now!"

"Yes, sir!" Georgia whirled around and, taking Jarrod by the hand, disappeared into the house leaving Mr. Cannon to deal with Mr. Miser.

~oOo~

"What?" Jarrod stared at Mr. Cannon sat on a chair in the bedroom he and Georgia were using.

"You heard me. Look, I knew the two of you was running only I figured it was just the war you were avoiding', and that was none of ma' business." Mr. Cannon let out a long drawn out sigh and looked at Jarrod and Georgia. "However, sorry to say it only had I known you were running from Buck Marshall as well, I don't think I'd have taken the two of you in. I dare say if it was any other time of the year he'd have been out this way by now…I don't care how many miles you've come."

Jarrod didn't have to ask what else the man was thinking. "That soldier, she knows him and he knows her. He'll make it a point to say something to her father."

"I dare say so. He left just before I came in here. I doubt he'll go to the place I told him I thought he'd find his unit. I bet you he is heading right for her father's home as we speak." Mr. Cannon stood up and looked out the window bracing himself for what his guests next reaction would be when they heard what he had to say next. "Buck Marshall might not have enough influence to turn everyone's head, but he is famous for miles around, on account of his orneriness and temper when he feels crossed. I'm willing to still help you to a point. I know another place ya can hide. I'll give you provisions that will last you for a month and I know of wood you can use, probably last you a month. That is, if you ration yourselves to one meal a day and use the wood sparingly, you should be okay for a month…until the weather will permit you to travel. I just can't have ya stay here any longer. It's not what Mr. Marshall might do to me that scares me." He said as he glanced towards the closed door. "It's what he might have someone might do ta my wife. I won't have her hurt. We have a solid six hours still of daylight left. If you want the help I offered, say so. No matter what though, I want you gone by the morning." The moment Mr. Cannon shut the door behind him Jarrod turned to Georgia, his heart full of fear for her safety.

"Georgia," He took a step towards Georgia who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. As much as he loved her Jarrod couldn't stomach the idea of anything happening to her because of him. "If I leave here by myself, would your father really hurt you for helping me?"

Georgia let out a soft, somewhat disgusted laugh as she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, doesn't really matter though." She said as she stood up and looked at Jarrod. The moment she'd seen Paul Miser in the yard she'd known what decision she would be facing. It had been at that moment that she realized she wanted two things, but couldn't have both. And, as much as she might want to reconcile things with her father, she couldn't turn her back on Jarrod Barkley. She was far too in love with him to do such a thing. "Do ya still want me as yer wife? February first, eighteen sixty four isn't a bad day for a marriage."

Jarrod took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. "Yes, I still want to marry you." He then sighed and added, "The next month won't be easy and, if your father is able to discover where we've gone…" Jarrod's words trailed off as he thought on what the man might do.

"The next month will be nothin' compared to what we've been through already." She gave a half hearted chuckle and added, "There's not a very high chance he'll follow. Ya never talked. Paul Miser will assume yer on the south's side. If anythin', he'll put two and two together, come up with an elopement and turning'ma' back on ma' family by runnin' before he got here. Also the Cannons have never let ya tell them fer sure what side yer on. So, if anythin', he'll turn around and make sure everyone around us knows I've been disowned. Let's just be glad it should be good enough weather to travel come March. Just promise me that the very first chance we get, we'll make it more than a common law marriage." She'd always dreamed of a beautiful church wedding and in no wise did she want to give that dream up.

. If Jarrod could have, he'd have turned the word 'war' into a tangible object and beat the living daylights out of it…as he felt the same way she did. As it was all he could do was reassure her he'd do as she asked. "I promise. Now we best hurry." Jarrod tilted her head up and kissed her, "The longer we stay here, the less time we have to get ourselves hidden." Georgia didn't argue as they threw their few belongings together and told Mr. Cannon they'd take his help.

The rest of the day was full of packing provisions in the back of one wagon while Mr. Cannon showed them his trapping maps and explained where he'd take them and why he could promise them a month's supply of wood.