Part Nine
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1530 Local
Mac walked near the head of the column with Private Mott by her side. True to his word, Fitzgerald made sure that there was always someone with her. Currently, the Sergeant was ranging up and down the line of marching men. Neither Mac nor the Private spoke. There wasn't that much to say and the ever-present dust cloud caused by thousands of feet meant a mouthful of grit even if they were inclined to talk. Four weeks had passed since the blow-up with Morton and the news of Sheridan's arrival. A number of things had changed. For one, Josiah had received a promotion to Lt. Colonel and had been given command of the brigade that contained his old regiment. While it meant more work for him, it barely affected her at all. By now, she was a fixture and the new regiments were quickly brought up to speed by Josiah's old command.
Two weeks ago, Sheridan had formally been placed in command. Surprisingly, since then, he'd done very little. Mac was somewhat at a loss, she wasn't an expert on the Civil War. Except for Jackson's Valley campaign and Sheridan's destruction of it, she really didn't remember all that much about the Shenandoah Valley. This inactivity didn't seem to gel with her perception of the fiery and combative Sheridan. Mostly inactive, Mac corrected herself, Josiah's brigade had retained its position as rearguard and as a consequence, found itself in almost daily skirmishes. Early was pugnacious as ever. He'd managed to force a minor engagement around Winchester. It did nothing more than cause more casualties for both sides. The men were holding their own but Sheridan kept falling back. If this continued, they'd find themselves holed up in Harper's Ferry.
Mac trudged along on autopilot. The threat of Ezra Caine had never materialized but she didn't discount the possibility. Tommy still worried about it and he had been right on the money about Morton staying on. The doctor was cold and distantly polite whenever she was around - which was often. With Fitzgerald back on duty, she'd shifted her attention to the rear of the brigade and its noncombatants. At first, it was to make sure the hospital changes were implemented. Then she discovered that the Quartermaster officer was not merely dishonest, but stupid as well. Figuring that the military hadn't changed that much between her time and this, Mac went straight for the non-coms handling the supplies. There was no way to keep graft out of the system but with judicious strong-arming provided by Josiah and Fitzgerald, she convinced the sergeants that it was healthier to practice moderation. The Quartermaster Lieutenant was sent packing and government contractors found themselves under random but intense scrutiny.
The first one caught trying to slip sick, skinny cattle in with the rest of the herd found himself in front of a coldly furious Col. Rabb. The businessman tried to bluster his way out only to have Mac calmly point out the clauses of his contract that he had violated. Thereupon, he became abusive. Things might have gotten completely out of hand if Mac hadn't stopped Josiah with a hand on his sleeve and an amused half-smile. She suggested that rather than throttling the man, that they serve him supper instead. Both men looked at her like she was crazy and then Rabb started to laugh. He called in the Provost-Marshal and then had Billy make the arrangements. By the time the man was sat down to his meal of diseased beef and hardtack, several hundred men had gathered round to enjoy the show. After that, the quality of supplies improved for the brigade and Mac had earned another large group of admirers. She'd also gained another set of enemies.
Ironically, she learned that the men had taken to referring to her as 'Colonel Mac'. Apparently, it had partly come about because of her association with Josiah. The men were already aware that Tommy called her Mac. The other part, Billy had informed her with a smile, came from her habit of collaring the shirkers and stragglers. Since they weren't going to fight, she commandeered them for work in the hospital. It was generally acknowledged that, as such things were figured, she would make a decent officer. She knew how to bellow. When Josiah made Colonel, the men decided that he wasn't the only one deserving of a 'promotion'.
Taking evening meals with Josiah was a habit now. Sometimes they ate alone and other times, he invited the staff. Mac enjoyed his company. He was charming, witty and kind. Slowly, he was drawing her into his life and she was finding that she didn't want to resist. In many ways, he was so much like Harm that she could close her eyes and believe she was back in Falls Church. She knew it wasn't right but she missed Harm so much. Mac heaved a sigh and scanned the surrounding countryside. She'd fallen into a routine and it frightened her. What the hell was she doing? It had never occurred to her that it might take so long to get back. Firmly, she pushed aside the thought that it might never happen. It wasn't time to think about that just yet.
Her hand drifted up to finger Annabel's necklace. She'd found herself doing that more and more. It was becoming a talisman of sorts. A tangible link to her life before everything had been turned upside-down. She was convinced that the White Horse Tavern held the key somehow. The problem was that they were headed in the opposite direction. Josiah would never let her go back there on her own and after that brush with the bushwhackers, she wasn't sure she'd make it either.
*******
Mac stopped and listened to the growing roar of musketry. Nine more days had passed. Sheridan was moving towards Charles Town, West Virginia but he'd left a Corps at Berryville. Josiah's brigade was part of it. She'd been grateful at first, Sheridan seemed intent on leaving the Valley altogether and she still harbored a fear that she would be irrevocably lost in this time if she left the Shenandoah. Now she wasn't so sure. This was more than skirmishing, which meant that Josiah would be in the thick of it. It had shocked the hell out of her when she realized that Civil War officers led by example. It was SOP for officers to be out in front leading their men on or staying out in the open as they walked behind their lines. It was a point of honor to remain calm and unconcerned as the opposing side took potshots at you.
That practice had led to one of their more serious arguments. Mac had told Josiah that it was all well and good to be personally courageous but to deliberately expose yourself to enemy fire was just plain asinine. He'd countered with the fact that the officers' behavior greatly influenced the men's. Soldiers whose officers remained safely hidden in the rear would either refuse to fight or flee at the first sign of trouble. Early in the war, he'd seen entire divisions disintegrate because the soldiers had lost confidence in their officers. It wasn't going to happen here. Mac had glared at him with her hands on her hips and asked him just how much influence a dead officer had on the men. He still hadn't budged from his contention that it was necessary and in the end, they had agreed to disagree. Neither had been particularly happy about it.
Feeling herself getting angry all over again, Mac shook her head. Josiah, like Harm, was a man who stood by his principles, no matter the personal cost. It was one of the reasons she loved him. She stopped abruptly. Where had that come from? Tentatively, she thought it over. Was she once again substituting Josiah for Harm? With a start, she realized that it was Josiah who now came to mind more often. Harm was getting pushed into the background. Dammit, what was the matter with her? Frowning, Mac continued her rounds, causing Hanrahan and Garrett to look at her curiously. Corporal Garrett had joined her little cadre of 'protectors' about two weeks ago. Apparently, he'd gotten over her flattening him and had even gone so far as to ask her to show the move to him again. He'd been a little stiff at first, but then as he'd gotten used to her, he'd become more relaxed. Today was his day to shadow her. Hanrahan always followed her whenever she made an appearance at the hospital.
Private Henry Hanrahan was one of her 'Lost Boys'. Eighteen years old, with a room temperature IQ, he'd been out of his league in the ranks. The sound of battle had terrified him and Mac had found him cowering far to the rear. After talking with him, Mac was pretty sure he would be marginal, at best, as a soldier. She convinced Josiah to assign him to the hospital detail. There he'd found his niche. He followed her instructions conscientiously and as he became more confident, his normally cheerful personality turned out to be an asset. He kept the men's spirits up and he proved to be an amazing repository of entertaining stories. Morton would have nothing to do with him but the newest surgeon, Dr. Silas Edwards, was kind and encouraging. Edwards, himself, was a breath of fresh air. Boston educated, he was a talented surgeon and far more congenial. More importantly, to her mind anyway, was the fact that Boston doctors had realized the importance of cleanliness. He was just as adamant about it as Mac was.
And he outranked Morton. Josiah had placed him in charge almost immediately upon arrival. At first, he'd been somewhat stilted with her and what he considered to be the impropriety of it all. Billy had filled him in on the basics and the rest he'd gathered for himself by casually questioning the men. Later, when he engaged her in conversation, he discovered the same thing Fitzgerald had. Sarah MacKenzie had a lively, intelligent mind, wide-ranging interests, no fear of expressing her opinions and could, when the occasion demanded, be rather forceful. There were brief moments when he regretted being happily married. Not that he really had much of a chance, anyone with half an eye could see the attraction between Rabb and Sarah. He consoled himself with long letters to his wife, Abby, about the interesting circumstances that surrounded his new position.
*******
The battle was finally coming to an end. Wounded that had been flowing into the hospital area were now slowing to a trickle. Both Edwards and Morton, however, were still swamped in the operating theater. Earlier, Mac had made sure everything was in order and then stepped back to let the people do their work. Edwards had been educating the more competent nurses on the subject of triage. Mac helped out where she could. Although she had no medical knowledge, she understood the concept. Glancing up from what she was doing, Mac saw a soldier hurry over to Garrett and say something to him. As soon as he left, Garrett walked over to her, his face anxious, "Ma'am, there's a problem at one of the sutlers' tents. One of the boys is threatening to wreck the place."
Mac frowned, of all the times to have to deal with something like this! The Provost Marshal would be busy containing the inevitable shirking. She knew about the price-gouging that went on but she thought she'd managed to curtail it to some degree. Damn greedy civilians, there was always one who thought he could get away with something. She ought to just let the men administer their own brand of justice. Sighing, she turned to Private Hanrahan, "Would you find Sgt. Fitzgerald and have him meet me at the sutlers' row?" She turned to an unhappy Garrett, "Let's go."
The sutler that was having the problem was fairly obvious from the sullen clumps of men standing just outside his tent. They parted quietly to let Mac get through. She walked into the tent to find a soldier with his back to her holding the sutler, George Atkins, by his shirtfront. "That's enough, Private. Let the man go." A gutteral growl was her only answer as the private continued to hold onto the sutler. Mac stepped in closer, her voice taking on a no-nonsense ring, "I said, that's enough!"
The soldier released Atkins and spun towards her so suddenly that she took an inadvertent step backwards and stumbled when she collided with Garrett. She hadn't realized he was so close behind her. The momentary distraction ended with the sharp prick of cold steel at her throat. Her surprise was compounded when Garrett effectively pinioned her arms behind her. Mac's eyes widened when she looked forward again and saw it was Ezra Caine who held the knifepoint to her throat. She opened her mouth and the knife jabbed painfully into her skin, breaking the surface.
"Not a word, Colonel Mac, don't even breath heavy," Ezra grinned. He was going to enjoy this.
"Ezra! We don't have time for that!" Garrett hissed, "Fitzgerald's coming, she sent one of those misfits for him."
Caine swore softly, glaring at Garrett. Mac went still, he would have to pull the knife away before she could make a move. She knew she'd only get one chance. She could feel the thin trickle of blood trailing down her skin. Abruptly Caine yanked the knife away and drove his other fist into her midriff. As she doubled over, gasping for air, he spun the knife around and brought the hilt down across her head. Glancing over at the sutler, he snapped, "Toss me a couple of belts and get that trunk open. Hurry!" He caught them from Atkins and threw one at Garrett, "Get her feet." Caine slid his belt up over her arms and snugged it down tight just above her elbows. Grabbing a kerchief off the table, he gagged her and then he and Garrett picked up her limp form and dumped her in the trunk. Caine grabbed the sutler by the lapel, "We'll meet you tonight. Make it look good." He and Garrett slipped out the back of the tent.
Less than five minutes later, Fitzgerald stomped in and saw Atkins angrily throwing merchandise into an open trunk. Moving closer to the irate sutler, he snapped, "Where's Colonel Mac?"
Atkins paused, scowling, "I don't know. She marched in here, told me to get out by sundown. That's what I'm doing. ... Damn female," he muttered under his breath.
Tommy rubbed his jaw, Mac had asked him to meet her at the sutlers' row. She should have been there. It'd taken him a few minutes to track down which sutler had been having the problem. A number of men had seen her go in, no one had remembered her coming out. He reached over and grabbed Atkins by the sleeve, "People saw her come in here, no one saw her go out. Where is she?"
Atkins yanked his arm away, "How would I know? I'm not her keeper." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Her and the corporal went out the back. They may have said something about the hospital."
Fitzgerald swore softly to himself. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He went out the back of the tent and looked up and down the row. There was no one to be seen. Goddamn it! He glanced back into the tent and watched Atkins slam the lid on the one trunk and slide another out. Tommy shook his head and started for the hospital, at least Garrett was still with her. Maybe there was some crisis with her little troop of workers.
When he got there, it was a scene of controlled chaos. Casualties were still coming in, both Union and Confederate. It took a good ten minutes before he could catch Morton between patients. He was more than a little peevish. Yes, he had seen her. She had headed to the battlefield to help look for more wounded. Would the Sergeant mind if he got back to work?
Tommy turned away and headed towards the battlefield. It was possible that she'd gone there and he'd missed her again. In any case, before he went to Colonel Rabb, he needed to make sure he wasn't just jumping at shadows.
*******
Mac opened her eyes once more. She'd been drifting in and out for the last ninety minutes or so. They'd crammed her in some sort of box. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were numb from the shoulder down. No doubt what Caine intended, she thought grimly, assuming he was the one who'd tried to make her elbows touch behind her back. It was pitch black and uncomfortably hot. Not enough to kill her but dehydration could become a problem. She was already half-soaked with sweat. From the bouncing and jostling, she surmised that they had her on a wagon, probably that son of a bitch, Atkins'. It wasn't doing much for her headache.
Goddammit, how could she have been so stupid? Tommy had been right again. Caine had been downright diabolical and she hadn't seen it coming. She hadn't expected Garrett to betray her. It was her fault, she'd treated things like she would in her own time. Smugly confident because of her 'rank' and past successes, she'd relaxed her guard and this was the result. Mac tried shifting her shoulders and blinked back a groan. Whenever they finally untied her, it was going to hurt like hell. She closed her eyes again, quit whining and think!
They had to be taking her away from the Union Army. That only made sense. There was no way they could afford to keep her in its vicinity. Josiah would turn everything upside down and inside out in his search for her. Which meant she was heading for the Confederate lines or, at least, into their territory. It was an odd fact that neither side would detain noncombatants from their opponents. Sutlers, chaplains, doctors and civilians were immediately released. Atkins would not be stopped, on the contrary, he'd be welcomed in Southern camps. Not that he could afford to go there either, not with a woman tied up in his wagon. But, once inside the Southern picket lines, he'd be safe from Josiah.
Caine and his cohorts couldn't afford to remain in the Union Army either, so they were probably already in the act of deserting. No doubt, they'd planned for some sort of rendezvous. Hopefully, with Atkins' headstart, that would give her a small window of opportunity - provided the son of a bitch let her out of the trunk. It was probably a safe bet that she had at least two more hours in here. They'd want that kind of a safety margin. She just had to assume that they would stay in the Valley and not try to cross the mountains. One thing for sure, if she could, she needed to escape before Ezra Caine appeared. The man scared the living hell out of her.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1530 Local
Mac walked near the head of the column with Private Mott by her side. True to his word, Fitzgerald made sure that there was always someone with her. Currently, the Sergeant was ranging up and down the line of marching men. Neither Mac nor the Private spoke. There wasn't that much to say and the ever-present dust cloud caused by thousands of feet meant a mouthful of grit even if they were inclined to talk. Four weeks had passed since the blow-up with Morton and the news of Sheridan's arrival. A number of things had changed. For one, Josiah had received a promotion to Lt. Colonel and had been given command of the brigade that contained his old regiment. While it meant more work for him, it barely affected her at all. By now, she was a fixture and the new regiments were quickly brought up to speed by Josiah's old command.
Two weeks ago, Sheridan had formally been placed in command. Surprisingly, since then, he'd done very little. Mac was somewhat at a loss, she wasn't an expert on the Civil War. Except for Jackson's Valley campaign and Sheridan's destruction of it, she really didn't remember all that much about the Shenandoah Valley. This inactivity didn't seem to gel with her perception of the fiery and combative Sheridan. Mostly inactive, Mac corrected herself, Josiah's brigade had retained its position as rearguard and as a consequence, found itself in almost daily skirmishes. Early was pugnacious as ever. He'd managed to force a minor engagement around Winchester. It did nothing more than cause more casualties for both sides. The men were holding their own but Sheridan kept falling back. If this continued, they'd find themselves holed up in Harper's Ferry.
Mac trudged along on autopilot. The threat of Ezra Caine had never materialized but she didn't discount the possibility. Tommy still worried about it and he had been right on the money about Morton staying on. The doctor was cold and distantly polite whenever she was around - which was often. With Fitzgerald back on duty, she'd shifted her attention to the rear of the brigade and its noncombatants. At first, it was to make sure the hospital changes were implemented. Then she discovered that the Quartermaster officer was not merely dishonest, but stupid as well. Figuring that the military hadn't changed that much between her time and this, Mac went straight for the non-coms handling the supplies. There was no way to keep graft out of the system but with judicious strong-arming provided by Josiah and Fitzgerald, she convinced the sergeants that it was healthier to practice moderation. The Quartermaster Lieutenant was sent packing and government contractors found themselves under random but intense scrutiny.
The first one caught trying to slip sick, skinny cattle in with the rest of the herd found himself in front of a coldly furious Col. Rabb. The businessman tried to bluster his way out only to have Mac calmly point out the clauses of his contract that he had violated. Thereupon, he became abusive. Things might have gotten completely out of hand if Mac hadn't stopped Josiah with a hand on his sleeve and an amused half-smile. She suggested that rather than throttling the man, that they serve him supper instead. Both men looked at her like she was crazy and then Rabb started to laugh. He called in the Provost-Marshal and then had Billy make the arrangements. By the time the man was sat down to his meal of diseased beef and hardtack, several hundred men had gathered round to enjoy the show. After that, the quality of supplies improved for the brigade and Mac had earned another large group of admirers. She'd also gained another set of enemies.
Ironically, she learned that the men had taken to referring to her as 'Colonel Mac'. Apparently, it had partly come about because of her association with Josiah. The men were already aware that Tommy called her Mac. The other part, Billy had informed her with a smile, came from her habit of collaring the shirkers and stragglers. Since they weren't going to fight, she commandeered them for work in the hospital. It was generally acknowledged that, as such things were figured, she would make a decent officer. She knew how to bellow. When Josiah made Colonel, the men decided that he wasn't the only one deserving of a 'promotion'.
Taking evening meals with Josiah was a habit now. Sometimes they ate alone and other times, he invited the staff. Mac enjoyed his company. He was charming, witty and kind. Slowly, he was drawing her into his life and she was finding that she didn't want to resist. In many ways, he was so much like Harm that she could close her eyes and believe she was back in Falls Church. She knew it wasn't right but she missed Harm so much. Mac heaved a sigh and scanned the surrounding countryside. She'd fallen into a routine and it frightened her. What the hell was she doing? It had never occurred to her that it might take so long to get back. Firmly, she pushed aside the thought that it might never happen. It wasn't time to think about that just yet.
Her hand drifted up to finger Annabel's necklace. She'd found herself doing that more and more. It was becoming a talisman of sorts. A tangible link to her life before everything had been turned upside-down. She was convinced that the White Horse Tavern held the key somehow. The problem was that they were headed in the opposite direction. Josiah would never let her go back there on her own and after that brush with the bushwhackers, she wasn't sure she'd make it either.
*******
Mac stopped and listened to the growing roar of musketry. Nine more days had passed. Sheridan was moving towards Charles Town, West Virginia but he'd left a Corps at Berryville. Josiah's brigade was part of it. She'd been grateful at first, Sheridan seemed intent on leaving the Valley altogether and she still harbored a fear that she would be irrevocably lost in this time if she left the Shenandoah. Now she wasn't so sure. This was more than skirmishing, which meant that Josiah would be in the thick of it. It had shocked the hell out of her when she realized that Civil War officers led by example. It was SOP for officers to be out in front leading their men on or staying out in the open as they walked behind their lines. It was a point of honor to remain calm and unconcerned as the opposing side took potshots at you.
That practice had led to one of their more serious arguments. Mac had told Josiah that it was all well and good to be personally courageous but to deliberately expose yourself to enemy fire was just plain asinine. He'd countered with the fact that the officers' behavior greatly influenced the men's. Soldiers whose officers remained safely hidden in the rear would either refuse to fight or flee at the first sign of trouble. Early in the war, he'd seen entire divisions disintegrate because the soldiers had lost confidence in their officers. It wasn't going to happen here. Mac had glared at him with her hands on her hips and asked him just how much influence a dead officer had on the men. He still hadn't budged from his contention that it was necessary and in the end, they had agreed to disagree. Neither had been particularly happy about it.
Feeling herself getting angry all over again, Mac shook her head. Josiah, like Harm, was a man who stood by his principles, no matter the personal cost. It was one of the reasons she loved him. She stopped abruptly. Where had that come from? Tentatively, she thought it over. Was she once again substituting Josiah for Harm? With a start, she realized that it was Josiah who now came to mind more often. Harm was getting pushed into the background. Dammit, what was the matter with her? Frowning, Mac continued her rounds, causing Hanrahan and Garrett to look at her curiously. Corporal Garrett had joined her little cadre of 'protectors' about two weeks ago. Apparently, he'd gotten over her flattening him and had even gone so far as to ask her to show the move to him again. He'd been a little stiff at first, but then as he'd gotten used to her, he'd become more relaxed. Today was his day to shadow her. Hanrahan always followed her whenever she made an appearance at the hospital.
Private Henry Hanrahan was one of her 'Lost Boys'. Eighteen years old, with a room temperature IQ, he'd been out of his league in the ranks. The sound of battle had terrified him and Mac had found him cowering far to the rear. After talking with him, Mac was pretty sure he would be marginal, at best, as a soldier. She convinced Josiah to assign him to the hospital detail. There he'd found his niche. He followed her instructions conscientiously and as he became more confident, his normally cheerful personality turned out to be an asset. He kept the men's spirits up and he proved to be an amazing repository of entertaining stories. Morton would have nothing to do with him but the newest surgeon, Dr. Silas Edwards, was kind and encouraging. Edwards, himself, was a breath of fresh air. Boston educated, he was a talented surgeon and far more congenial. More importantly, to her mind anyway, was the fact that Boston doctors had realized the importance of cleanliness. He was just as adamant about it as Mac was.
And he outranked Morton. Josiah had placed him in charge almost immediately upon arrival. At first, he'd been somewhat stilted with her and what he considered to be the impropriety of it all. Billy had filled him in on the basics and the rest he'd gathered for himself by casually questioning the men. Later, when he engaged her in conversation, he discovered the same thing Fitzgerald had. Sarah MacKenzie had a lively, intelligent mind, wide-ranging interests, no fear of expressing her opinions and could, when the occasion demanded, be rather forceful. There were brief moments when he regretted being happily married. Not that he really had much of a chance, anyone with half an eye could see the attraction between Rabb and Sarah. He consoled himself with long letters to his wife, Abby, about the interesting circumstances that surrounded his new position.
*******
The battle was finally coming to an end. Wounded that had been flowing into the hospital area were now slowing to a trickle. Both Edwards and Morton, however, were still swamped in the operating theater. Earlier, Mac had made sure everything was in order and then stepped back to let the people do their work. Edwards had been educating the more competent nurses on the subject of triage. Mac helped out where she could. Although she had no medical knowledge, she understood the concept. Glancing up from what she was doing, Mac saw a soldier hurry over to Garrett and say something to him. As soon as he left, Garrett walked over to her, his face anxious, "Ma'am, there's a problem at one of the sutlers' tents. One of the boys is threatening to wreck the place."
Mac frowned, of all the times to have to deal with something like this! The Provost Marshal would be busy containing the inevitable shirking. She knew about the price-gouging that went on but she thought she'd managed to curtail it to some degree. Damn greedy civilians, there was always one who thought he could get away with something. She ought to just let the men administer their own brand of justice. Sighing, she turned to Private Hanrahan, "Would you find Sgt. Fitzgerald and have him meet me at the sutlers' row?" She turned to an unhappy Garrett, "Let's go."
The sutler that was having the problem was fairly obvious from the sullen clumps of men standing just outside his tent. They parted quietly to let Mac get through. She walked into the tent to find a soldier with his back to her holding the sutler, George Atkins, by his shirtfront. "That's enough, Private. Let the man go." A gutteral growl was her only answer as the private continued to hold onto the sutler. Mac stepped in closer, her voice taking on a no-nonsense ring, "I said, that's enough!"
The soldier released Atkins and spun towards her so suddenly that she took an inadvertent step backwards and stumbled when she collided with Garrett. She hadn't realized he was so close behind her. The momentary distraction ended with the sharp prick of cold steel at her throat. Her surprise was compounded when Garrett effectively pinioned her arms behind her. Mac's eyes widened when she looked forward again and saw it was Ezra Caine who held the knifepoint to her throat. She opened her mouth and the knife jabbed painfully into her skin, breaking the surface.
"Not a word, Colonel Mac, don't even breath heavy," Ezra grinned. He was going to enjoy this.
"Ezra! We don't have time for that!" Garrett hissed, "Fitzgerald's coming, she sent one of those misfits for him."
Caine swore softly, glaring at Garrett. Mac went still, he would have to pull the knife away before she could make a move. She knew she'd only get one chance. She could feel the thin trickle of blood trailing down her skin. Abruptly Caine yanked the knife away and drove his other fist into her midriff. As she doubled over, gasping for air, he spun the knife around and brought the hilt down across her head. Glancing over at the sutler, he snapped, "Toss me a couple of belts and get that trunk open. Hurry!" He caught them from Atkins and threw one at Garrett, "Get her feet." Caine slid his belt up over her arms and snugged it down tight just above her elbows. Grabbing a kerchief off the table, he gagged her and then he and Garrett picked up her limp form and dumped her in the trunk. Caine grabbed the sutler by the lapel, "We'll meet you tonight. Make it look good." He and Garrett slipped out the back of the tent.
Less than five minutes later, Fitzgerald stomped in and saw Atkins angrily throwing merchandise into an open trunk. Moving closer to the irate sutler, he snapped, "Where's Colonel Mac?"
Atkins paused, scowling, "I don't know. She marched in here, told me to get out by sundown. That's what I'm doing. ... Damn female," he muttered under his breath.
Tommy rubbed his jaw, Mac had asked him to meet her at the sutlers' row. She should have been there. It'd taken him a few minutes to track down which sutler had been having the problem. A number of men had seen her go in, no one had remembered her coming out. He reached over and grabbed Atkins by the sleeve, "People saw her come in here, no one saw her go out. Where is she?"
Atkins yanked his arm away, "How would I know? I'm not her keeper." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Her and the corporal went out the back. They may have said something about the hospital."
Fitzgerald swore softly to himself. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He went out the back of the tent and looked up and down the row. There was no one to be seen. Goddamn it! He glanced back into the tent and watched Atkins slam the lid on the one trunk and slide another out. Tommy shook his head and started for the hospital, at least Garrett was still with her. Maybe there was some crisis with her little troop of workers.
When he got there, it was a scene of controlled chaos. Casualties were still coming in, both Union and Confederate. It took a good ten minutes before he could catch Morton between patients. He was more than a little peevish. Yes, he had seen her. She had headed to the battlefield to help look for more wounded. Would the Sergeant mind if he got back to work?
Tommy turned away and headed towards the battlefield. It was possible that she'd gone there and he'd missed her again. In any case, before he went to Colonel Rabb, he needed to make sure he wasn't just jumping at shadows.
*******
Mac opened her eyes once more. She'd been drifting in and out for the last ninety minutes or so. They'd crammed her in some sort of box. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were numb from the shoulder down. No doubt what Caine intended, she thought grimly, assuming he was the one who'd tried to make her elbows touch behind her back. It was pitch black and uncomfortably hot. Not enough to kill her but dehydration could become a problem. She was already half-soaked with sweat. From the bouncing and jostling, she surmised that they had her on a wagon, probably that son of a bitch, Atkins'. It wasn't doing much for her headache.
Goddammit, how could she have been so stupid? Tommy had been right again. Caine had been downright diabolical and she hadn't seen it coming. She hadn't expected Garrett to betray her. It was her fault, she'd treated things like she would in her own time. Smugly confident because of her 'rank' and past successes, she'd relaxed her guard and this was the result. Mac tried shifting her shoulders and blinked back a groan. Whenever they finally untied her, it was going to hurt like hell. She closed her eyes again, quit whining and think!
They had to be taking her away from the Union Army. That only made sense. There was no way they could afford to keep her in its vicinity. Josiah would turn everything upside down and inside out in his search for her. Which meant she was heading for the Confederate lines or, at least, into their territory. It was an odd fact that neither side would detain noncombatants from their opponents. Sutlers, chaplains, doctors and civilians were immediately released. Atkins would not be stopped, on the contrary, he'd be welcomed in Southern camps. Not that he could afford to go there either, not with a woman tied up in his wagon. But, once inside the Southern picket lines, he'd be safe from Josiah.
Caine and his cohorts couldn't afford to remain in the Union Army either, so they were probably already in the act of deserting. No doubt, they'd planned for some sort of rendezvous. Hopefully, with Atkins' headstart, that would give her a small window of opportunity - provided the son of a bitch let her out of the trunk. It was probably a safe bet that she had at least two more hours in here. They'd want that kind of a safety margin. She just had to assume that they would stay in the Valley and not try to cross the mountains. One thing for sure, if she could, she needed to escape before Ezra Caine appeared. The man scared the living hell out of her.