Chapter Twenty Five

Having covered a considerable distance, Jarrod and Georgia now stood at the base of what Georgia called a mountain. Jarrod figured when he sent her out to California she could redefine her definition of that word. They could hear, but not see, the mighty Mississippi River off in the distance. Both were frustrated as they would be at the river only, somehow, they'd gotten off course and had wound up traveling extra miles because of it. Now they were trying to decide whether or not to continue on their journey or to make camp among the boulders.

"It's up to ya, Jarrod. I don't care either way." Georgia shrugged her shoulders and answered when Jarrod asked her what she wanted to do. She might have cared, only she was far too upset at the miscalculation when it came to the distance they would have to travel.

Instantly, Jarrod was concerned. That sort of reply wasn't the kind he'd come to expect from the woman he was now calling his wife. There was also more sorrow in her eyes than he'd ever seen. Something was bothering her. As he thought on it, Jarrod was shocked to realize the pained look in her eyes had been there since they fled the Cannon's shack. Then again, he inwardly sighed, maybe he wasn't so shocked. "Those men who were shooting at us back at the shack, how do you know them?" He asked after he led the horses into a clump of nearby trees and tethered the animals.

Georgia took the blankets off the horse and started to lay them down upon the ground, underneath a tree. "The two officers are, or were in the Major's case, friends of ma' father. Rumor's always had it they and my father have dealin's with the Missouri Raiders. The Major probably agreed ta talk ta the captain about doin' some more scoutin' fer the *group they now run with. Ten ta one, it's a good thing we left that one house. Wouldn't surprise me if they had learned about the house and what supposedly went on. If they did, they would have dropped by sooner or later." It was a statement Georgia made not knowing that she was a hundred percent right. That's exactly what had happened; though, with no one there, the men had found nothing.

Georgia sat back on her heels and rubbed the palms of her hands together more than once…and looked away from Jarrod a number of times while she talked. Her actions told him there was something else, something she wasn't saying. As he joined her in laying out the blankets, it hit him like a tons of bricks that she had never said a word about the civilian who had been with the Confederate officers. All of a sudden he got a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What else is wrong? Does it have anything to do with the gentleman who was with the officers?" He asked as they then gathered what little wood they could find and built a campfire.

Georgia gazed into the fire which was beginning to grow, fighting to get herself to speak. When she finally started talking, Jarrod sat and simply listened. "This war is tearin' families apart right and left." Georgia stiffened and held herself erect. "Fathers against their sons, brothers against brothers, uncles or cousins, all are wonderin' who's gonna live and who's gonna die. Women havin' ta take over work meant for the men. Communication is hard even if the men do try to write home when they can." As she continued to talk about the effects of the war upon various families, Jarrod again felt sick to his stomach. He had the worst feeling he knew what she was going to say by the time she was finished. He was right.

"Jarrod," tears began forming in Georgia's eyes and then spilled out as she started sobbing, "The civilian with them is ma' daddy! I had ta shoot at ma' own father in the arm ta disable him from gettin' ta us!" By the time she was sobbing uncontrollably, Jarrod was holding her tightly against his chest and closing his own eyes. If only…two words that could begin so many sentences Jarrod could think of. For someone who had been blessed with the ability to use words to his advantage, Jarrod found himself without any words. Only when her crying had ceased did he dare to try and find something to say.

"It's not your fault." He whispered as he ran his hand down the back of her head. "It's this blasted war! It's doing so much damage, and doing it at every turn."

Georgia knew her husband spoke the truth; still, it didn't help ease the pain she was feeling. When she shivered involuntarily, Jarrod suggested she get under the blankets, they'd laid every single blanket they'd brought with them on top of each other in order to get the maximum benefit from them. As she did just that, Jarrod began looking around for any wood that they could use. It took a few minutes, but before long he'd gathered enough wood to start a camp fire. Once the fire was going well enough and wasn't afraid it would die out on them, Jarrod slid underneath the blankets and pulled Georgia to him. "If I could change things, I would. I never wanted to put you in a position where you would have to fight against any member of your family."

Georgia let out a frustrated chuckle. "Ya didn't put me in the position. I did that the day I insisted on bein' the one to take responsibility of hidin' ya from ma' daddy and others." She then took a deep breath and let out a sigh, "I knew the risk I was takin'. I mean, ma' actions could very well lead ta a broken down bridge per say. Still, it was a shock ta see him and his friends actually shootin' at us. It's one thing ta fight fer yer country, what yer believe in and another to side with thieves and raiders. But, Jarrod I never thought I'd have ta..." Georgia stopped speaking, her tears starting back up and taking over her speech.

Jarrod said nothing more as he simply held her, giving what comfort he could to the young woman who he had grown to love so dearly…a woman that had not just grit, but a sense of justice that made their connection so much stronger. Still, his heart felt heavy for her. He wished he knew what he could erase all her pain. As it was, all he could do was to cradle her in his arms as she held onto to him and cried herself to sleep.