Shenandoah Valley
Northern Virginia
1115 Local
Hunter Milroy saw Stafford come back out on the porch and shrug his shoulders. He glanced over at Miss Avis. Although she was pale, she hadn't shown any other signs of fear, he'd give her credit for grit. Not that it would stop them, but it would add a little more fun to the festivities. "Where is she, Miss Avis?" he inquired mildly.
Avis stared at him silently and then staggered when Peavey backhanded her with his free hand. He hauled her back upright and Milroy noted that she now had a split lip. He clucked his tongue and shook a finger at Peavey, "Judson, I'm surprised at you! That was unmannerly."
Peavey scowled, "Shut up, Milroy." He shook Avis by the arm, "We're wastin' time."
He gulped in surprise when Milroy suddenly closed the distance between them, knife in hand. Hunter glared at him, "Don't ever talk to me like that again, hear?" Peavey's head bobbed up and down nervously, his eyes on the knife. Milroy glanced back at Stafford. Waving his other hand, he called, "Check the other buildings. Start with the barn." He looked over at Avis who still managed to look defiant, despite the blood running down her chin. "We're going to find her, Miss Avis, don't you worry 'bout that."
Stafford entered the dimly-lit barn and stood for moment letting his eyes adjust while he listened. It was silent but for various sounds of the livestock. Quietly, he began his search. He checked each stall, working his way down from one end. When he got to the tackroom, he grunted softly. The half-cleaned harness and bucket of soapy water told him that she'd been here. He stepped out into the aisle and stood for a moment. A wisp of hay fluttered down and he grinned as he looked up towards the hayloft. Stealthily, he moved to the ladder and started to climb. His head had just cleared the loft floor when there was a resounding clang.
Mac lowered the shovel and peered over the edge of the opening. The man was sprawled, unmoving, at the foot of the ladder. Quickly, she climbed down. She stopped about halfway and stared intently at the man. He still hadn't moved, Mac didn't think he was faking. She'd gotten a pretty solid shot and then there was the fall from the ladder. Mac dropped down beside him and took a closer look. Out cold. Grabbing his feet, she dragged him into the tackroom not really caring how often his head banged on the floor. Miserable bastard had it coming - it was obvious that these men thought they'd found an easy target. Pulling down some lead ropes, she quickly trussed him up, using one of the cleaning rags to gag him.
Satisfied he couldn't get loose, Mac relieved him of his pistol, gunbelt and knife. Breaking open the revolver, she checked to make sure it was fully loaded and then snapped it shut. Cautiously, she crept to barn door and looked out. Avis and the two men were still in the yard. Mac glanced up at the loft and then back out in the yard. She'd have a better trajectory from up above but the inaccuracy of pistols in general was still a problem. There was a good chance she'd hit Avis. She needed to get closer but that was impossible without being seen. Dammit, why didn't they move? If they went to the house, she'd have a better chance of taking them out. Trying to come up with a plan that wouldn't get Avis or herself killed, she absently scanned the barn. When her gaze swept over the grain bin, she stopped and came back. Maybe...
Checking outside again, she could see the two men were looking more frequently at the barn. Looking down at the floor, she went over her idea again. If it worked, it would leave her with just one adversary to deal with. It would also make the last man, the most dangerous one. Mac shook her head - if it came down to it, she'd just have to gut it out. Her one hope was the 1800s mindset that discounted women as a real threat. She took a deep breath and let it out, well... no time like the present. She allowed herself a wry grin at the irony of that thought.
Three heads whipped around when a woman's scream was heard, closely followed by a gunshot. Avis felt her knees go weak, oh dear god...
"Damnation!" Hunter stared at the barn, what the hell had Stafford done? He looked over at Peavey and gestured at the barn in exasperation, "Go see what that fool has done now!"
Peavey frowned but didn't say anything. Reluctantly, he let go of Avis and trotted to the barn. He stopped just outside the door and glanced back at Milroy. Receiving another angry 'get on with it' gesture, he pulled out his revolver and cautiously stepped inside. It was hard to see in the barn after the bright sunlight and he came to a halt. He heard a faint rustle off to his right and turned his head to squint in that direction. The shadows were deeper over there, making it even more difficult to see. "Stafford? That you?" he called softly.
He froze in surprise when a woman's voice answered, accompanied by the sound of a revolver being cocked. "Drop the gun and put your hands up," Mac ordered quietly.
For a second or two, it looked like he was going to comply as he stretched his hand out like he was about to drop the pistol. Instead, he dropped into a crouch, spun towards her and fired. Mac hesitated for a split second as she re-centered him in her sights and then pulled the trigger. Her shot caught him just above the right eye and the back of his head exploded outward. Peavey was dead before he hit the floor.
"Dammit," Mac muttered, staring at the body for a moment. She'd hoped to avoid killing anyone. Looking at the barn doors, she steeled herself. It was time for the final act in this little melodrama. She started to tuck her pistol in the back waistband of her trousers and winced. Peavey's shot had nicked her right arm just below the point of her shoulder. It wasn't serious but was enough that it would impede drawing the weapon. Fractions of a second were going to matter, she'd need every advantage she could give herself. With a sigh, she shifted the pistol around for a left-handed draw. Running her hand through her hair to muss it up, she took a deep breath and hit the barn doors at a run.
Hunter jumped at the sound of multiple gunshots inside the barn. He grabbed Avis and shook her, "What the hell is going on?? Who's in there?!" Pulling his revolver out, he yanked Avis closer. This was not how he had planned things.
Avis shook her head soundlessly, she was more baffled than he was. What had happened? Where was Sarah? Her vision exploded with stars when Milroy let go of her arm only to connect solidly with the side of her head. It dropped her to her knees and she couldn't help cringing when he grabbed her by the hair and stuck the gun in her face. "Who else is here, damn you!?!" They both froze when the barn door bounced open and Sarah came out of the barn at a run. She staggered to a halt in the sunlight and looked wildly around. As soon as she saw Avis and Hunter, she reeled towards them, babbling in Russian.
Milroy pulled back in alarm and hauled Avis to her feet, "What the hell is she saying?! Where's Stafford and Jud?"
"I don't know!" Avis' head was ringing and she felt completely bewildered. What was Sarah doing?
Mac steadily closed the distance as she tried to keep an hysterical edge in her voice. Avis was looking considerably worse for wear. The man had her by one arm and was holding a pistol in the other. He wasn't pointing it at either of them yet. Mac hoped to keep it that way. He looked angry and confused but not worried by her approach. Mac began angling slightly to the side, she was almost close enough.
She came to an abrupt halt when he suddenly pointed his revolver at her and yelled, "Quit that yammerin' and speak English, goddammit!"
She winced a little as she swept her arm towards the barn and gasped, "Two men... kill each other... try to kill me!" As she had hoped, he let the gun barrel drop as he turned his head and stared at the barn. What Mac had feared also happened. She wasn't nearly as fast with her left hand and he looked back at her in time to realize what she was doing. They fired almost simultaneously. His shot passed so close to her face that she could feel the breeze on her cheek. Her shot hit him in the chest and he staggered backward. He managed to stay upright and when he dragged his pistol up for another shot, Mac fired again. Milroy collapsed in the dirt. Cautiously, she approached, keeping her pistol trained on him. She kicked the revolver away from his outstretched hand and then knelt down to check for a pulse.
Mac finally let herself relax. Milroy was dead. Wearily, she glanced up at Avis, "Are you all right?" Avis stared at Milroy and slowly shook her head, she couldn't seem to stop trembling. Mac took a closer look, taking in the split lip and ashen face. Damn. She climbed to her feet and moved alongside of the young woman, "Avis? I want you to look at me." She waited until Avis raised her eyes and then said quietly, "It's over. We're going to the house and get you cleaned up and then you're going to lay down for a bit."
Once in the house, Mac got Avis into a chair at the kitchen table and headed for the sink. Pulling out a basin, she pumped water into it, grabbed a towel and went back to Avis. Carefully, she began cleaning away the blood and dust. The young woman watched her, although her gaze seemed somewhat distant. Mac gave her a quiet smile, "It's all over and you're safe. They can't hurt you."
There was a small hitch in Avis' breathing and her stare seemed to focus a little more on Mac, "Peavey?"
Mac frowned a little, "Peavey? Was he the second man?" Avis nodded and Mac looked down at the table, "He's dead. I surprised the damn fool and he tried to shoot it out anyway. I killed him."
"Good."
Mac looked up, surprised at Avis' vehemence. She stared at the young woman and then it clicked, "He was the one Avril and Deacon ran off, wasn't he?"
Avis nodded again and then her face crumpled and she began to sob. Mac gathered her in and let her cry - she needed to get this out. Eventually, Avis wound down and pulled back, wiping at her eyes. She looked at Mac ruefully, "I believe this is the most I've cried in years. You must think I'm an awful baby."
Mac shook her head and smiled, "Considering the last few days, I'd be more worried if you didn't cry."
Avis looked at her for a moment and asked quietly, "What happened in the barn, Sarah? The first man went in and then you screamed and there was a shot. I was so scared. Is he...?"
"He's tied up in your tackroom. I ambushed him with a shovel," Mac gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I knew it would worry you but I couldn't think of another way to get them into the barn without suspecting a trap. So I screamed... and shot your grain bin."
Avis' eyebrows rose, "You shot my grain bin?" She couldn't help the grin that forced its way out, "Is it dead?"
Mac tried to look solemn, "I'm afraid so, it hasn't moved since."
Avis began to chuckle and then winced, her hand going to her lip. "Ow."
Standing up, Mac grabbed the basin and towel. "Let me get some fresh water for you." She was at the sink when the back door banged open. With an oath, she dropped the basin and dove for the pistol that she'd placed on the table. She came up in a crouch, aiming at the door.
A powerfully built man with black hair and a beard, stood in the doorway holding a shotgun. Mac heard Corinna Simpson's voice yelling 'Don't Shoot!' at the same time that Avis said 'Uncle Axel!' Mac lowered the pistol with a sigh, this was about to get incredibly awkward.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1030 Local
Tommy blinked, "Sir, I said... "
Rabb cut him off, staring at Fitzgerald intently, "For godsakes, Tommy, get him in here! Now!" Unable to sit, he climbed to his feet, resisting the urge to go out and get the man himself. Whatever he was about to learn, it would be better done in the privacy of his tent. Josiah ruthlessly suppressed any hope that was struggling to make an appearance. A letter didn't necessarily mean that Sarah was still alive.
The tent flap opened and Fitzgerald came in, followed by a tall black man. Rabb put his age somewhere in his fifties. The man came to a halt and regarded Josiah gravely. Rabb was vaguely surprised to see that he seemed neither nervous nor awestruck. The Colonel glanced over at Fitzgerald and snapped, "Dismissed, Sergeant."
Fitzgerald started to protest and then caught the look in Rabb's eyes. With a muttered 'yes sir', he turned and left the tent. Josiah felt a twinge of guilt for treating Tommy that way. Fitzgerald had been nearly as upset about Sarah as he was and just as anxious to learn anything of her. Despite that, Josiah found he couldn't bear the weight of Tommy's sympathy if the news he was about to hear was bad. He would need time to shore up his defenses. He finally looked back to see the black man regarding him patiently. Josiah cleared his throat, "You have a letter?"
Deacon nodded slowly, he could see the man was steeling himself for the worst. "You're Colonel Josiah Rabb?"
"Yes." Josiah didn't trust himself to say more, not with his heart constricting in his chest.
Deacon reached inside his hat and pulled out the letter. Silently, he handed it over. Rabb all but snatched it from his hands, rapidly scanning the contents. Abruptly, he sank onto his cot and re-read it again more slowly. Finally, he looked up and Deacon wasn't surprised to see tears streaming down his face. It was fairly obvious that this man cared deeply about Sarah MacKenzie.
"She's alive," Rabb said it quietly at first, savoring the feeling. He looked up at Deacon and smiled, "She's alive."
"Yes sir, she is," Deacon affirmed with a smile.
Josiah wiped at his face and glanced down at the letter again, "You're Deacon Turner?"
"Yes sir."
"Then I owe you a debt of gratitude." Josiah stood up and stuck out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Deacon shook it. Rabb waved him to a chair, "Sit down, I want to hear everything... Just a moment..." He went to the front of the tent and bellowed, "Sergeant Fitzgerald!"
When Fitzgerald appeared, Josiah couldn't help grinning, "Get in here, Tommy. Sarah's alive." Fitzgerald's eyes widened and he looked over at Deacon in surprise. Rabb grabbed Tommy's sleeve and pulled him over towards the cot. "Sit. Mr. Turner is going to tell us what he knows." He looked at Deacon, "When did you last see her?"
"Three days ago, when I stopped by Miss Avis' place to let her and Miss Sarah know I'd be heading up this way. She gave me the letter and I promised I'd do what I could to deliver it." Deacon sat with his hands idly turning his hat over. He was just a shade nervous. Sometimes white folk got all agitated when he sat in their company and he'd found most Yankees to be an unpredictable lot. He wasn't especially worried about the Colonel. The man had told him to sit, after all, and he was too busy concentrating on the subject of Miss Sarah. The sergeant seemed like a rough and tumble sort, though. Deacon had no desire to be stopped later and given a 'lesson' about his place.
"Is she all right?" Josiah remained standing, too anxious to sit.
"Yes sir, she seemed to be feeling much better when I saw her," Deacon nodded. He didn't know what she'd written but he was willing to bet that she glossed over certain facts.
Josiah glanced down at the letter again, "How was she when you found her? All she says in this is that because of Atkins' changing sides, she was able to escape Caine. Was she hurt?"
Deacon rubbed his jaw, apparently Miss Sarah hadn't wanted to upset the Colonel. The question was, should he? He looked from Rabb to Fitzgerald and back again. Deacon took a deep breath, if someone had taken Chandra, he'd want to know everything - good or bad. "I was on my way home from Strasburg and I was giving Thomas Simpson a ride home as well when we came across a burnt out wagon and two bodies - a man and woman. The man was dead and we thought the woman was dying. It looked like they'd both been shot." He paused for a moment when Rabb suddenly sat down.
"Sarah was shot?"
Deacon gave a slight smile, "Well, yes and no. The man was shot and Miss Sarah told us later that she'd been standing behind him. She got hit by the same bullet. It had enough force left to knock her down but it didn't go through." He shook his head, "I suppose it was like getting walloped by a mighty big stick. For a while, she couldn't hardly move. I couldn't see leaving her there, so me and Thomas put her in the wagon and took her with us. I dropped her off with Miss Payne. Miss Avis is fine Christian woman and smart as a whip. I knew she'd take good care of Miss Sarah and figure a way to keep folks from finding out she was a Yankee, too. No offense, Colonel," he added quickly.
Josiah waved a hand, intrigued by what he was hearing, "What did your Miss Avis do?"
Deacon chuckled, "When she found out Miss Sarah spoke Russian, she told everyone that Miss Sarah was a friend of hers from Europe - that she was the daughter of a Russian diplomat. The good ladies of town have been falling over themselves to meet her."
"Where is she, Mr. Turner?" Josiah couldn't help smiling, Sarah was alive and well!
"Keezletown, sir, in the foothills of Massanutten Mountain," Deacon was puzzled when the Colonel's smile faltered, "Are you all right, Colonel?"
"What? Oh... yes," Josiah stood and offered his hand once again to Deacon, "Thank you for all you've done. I'm truly grateful. Sergeant, make sure Mr. Turner gets back through our lines without any trouble." As politely as he could he ushered the two men out of his tent, earning a bewildered look from Fitzgerald just before he left. Once they were gone, he sank into the chair and leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. Sarah was near Massanutten and the White Horse Tavern. She was going to try to go home and then he'd never see her again. Dammit! He climbed to his feet and began to pace. Somehow, he had to see her and do his best to convince her that she could have a life in this century - with him.
Hunter Milroy saw Stafford come back out on the porch and shrug his shoulders. He glanced over at Miss Avis. Although she was pale, she hadn't shown any other signs of fear, he'd give her credit for grit. Not that it would stop them, but it would add a little more fun to the festivities. "Where is she, Miss Avis?" he inquired mildly.
Avis stared at him silently and then staggered when Peavey backhanded her with his free hand. He hauled her back upright and Milroy noted that she now had a split lip. He clucked his tongue and shook a finger at Peavey, "Judson, I'm surprised at you! That was unmannerly."
Peavey scowled, "Shut up, Milroy." He shook Avis by the arm, "We're wastin' time."
He gulped in surprise when Milroy suddenly closed the distance between them, knife in hand. Hunter glared at him, "Don't ever talk to me like that again, hear?" Peavey's head bobbed up and down nervously, his eyes on the knife. Milroy glanced back at Stafford. Waving his other hand, he called, "Check the other buildings. Start with the barn." He looked over at Avis who still managed to look defiant, despite the blood running down her chin. "We're going to find her, Miss Avis, don't you worry 'bout that."
Stafford entered the dimly-lit barn and stood for moment letting his eyes adjust while he listened. It was silent but for various sounds of the livestock. Quietly, he began his search. He checked each stall, working his way down from one end. When he got to the tackroom, he grunted softly. The half-cleaned harness and bucket of soapy water told him that she'd been here. He stepped out into the aisle and stood for a moment. A wisp of hay fluttered down and he grinned as he looked up towards the hayloft. Stealthily, he moved to the ladder and started to climb. His head had just cleared the loft floor when there was a resounding clang.
Mac lowered the shovel and peered over the edge of the opening. The man was sprawled, unmoving, at the foot of the ladder. Quickly, she climbed down. She stopped about halfway and stared intently at the man. He still hadn't moved, Mac didn't think he was faking. She'd gotten a pretty solid shot and then there was the fall from the ladder. Mac dropped down beside him and took a closer look. Out cold. Grabbing his feet, she dragged him into the tackroom not really caring how often his head banged on the floor. Miserable bastard had it coming - it was obvious that these men thought they'd found an easy target. Pulling down some lead ropes, she quickly trussed him up, using one of the cleaning rags to gag him.
Satisfied he couldn't get loose, Mac relieved him of his pistol, gunbelt and knife. Breaking open the revolver, she checked to make sure it was fully loaded and then snapped it shut. Cautiously, she crept to barn door and looked out. Avis and the two men were still in the yard. Mac glanced up at the loft and then back out in the yard. She'd have a better trajectory from up above but the inaccuracy of pistols in general was still a problem. There was a good chance she'd hit Avis. She needed to get closer but that was impossible without being seen. Dammit, why didn't they move? If they went to the house, she'd have a better chance of taking them out. Trying to come up with a plan that wouldn't get Avis or herself killed, she absently scanned the barn. When her gaze swept over the grain bin, she stopped and came back. Maybe...
Checking outside again, she could see the two men were looking more frequently at the barn. Looking down at the floor, she went over her idea again. If it worked, it would leave her with just one adversary to deal with. It would also make the last man, the most dangerous one. Mac shook her head - if it came down to it, she'd just have to gut it out. Her one hope was the 1800s mindset that discounted women as a real threat. She took a deep breath and let it out, well... no time like the present. She allowed herself a wry grin at the irony of that thought.
Three heads whipped around when a woman's scream was heard, closely followed by a gunshot. Avis felt her knees go weak, oh dear god...
"Damnation!" Hunter stared at the barn, what the hell had Stafford done? He looked over at Peavey and gestured at the barn in exasperation, "Go see what that fool has done now!"
Peavey frowned but didn't say anything. Reluctantly, he let go of Avis and trotted to the barn. He stopped just outside the door and glanced back at Milroy. Receiving another angry 'get on with it' gesture, he pulled out his revolver and cautiously stepped inside. It was hard to see in the barn after the bright sunlight and he came to a halt. He heard a faint rustle off to his right and turned his head to squint in that direction. The shadows were deeper over there, making it even more difficult to see. "Stafford? That you?" he called softly.
He froze in surprise when a woman's voice answered, accompanied by the sound of a revolver being cocked. "Drop the gun and put your hands up," Mac ordered quietly.
For a second or two, it looked like he was going to comply as he stretched his hand out like he was about to drop the pistol. Instead, he dropped into a crouch, spun towards her and fired. Mac hesitated for a split second as she re-centered him in her sights and then pulled the trigger. Her shot caught him just above the right eye and the back of his head exploded outward. Peavey was dead before he hit the floor.
"Dammit," Mac muttered, staring at the body for a moment. She'd hoped to avoid killing anyone. Looking at the barn doors, she steeled herself. It was time for the final act in this little melodrama. She started to tuck her pistol in the back waistband of her trousers and winced. Peavey's shot had nicked her right arm just below the point of her shoulder. It wasn't serious but was enough that it would impede drawing the weapon. Fractions of a second were going to matter, she'd need every advantage she could give herself. With a sigh, she shifted the pistol around for a left-handed draw. Running her hand through her hair to muss it up, she took a deep breath and hit the barn doors at a run.
Hunter jumped at the sound of multiple gunshots inside the barn. He grabbed Avis and shook her, "What the hell is going on?? Who's in there?!" Pulling his revolver out, he yanked Avis closer. This was not how he had planned things.
Avis shook her head soundlessly, she was more baffled than he was. What had happened? Where was Sarah? Her vision exploded with stars when Milroy let go of her arm only to connect solidly with the side of her head. It dropped her to her knees and she couldn't help cringing when he grabbed her by the hair and stuck the gun in her face. "Who else is here, damn you!?!" They both froze when the barn door bounced open and Sarah came out of the barn at a run. She staggered to a halt in the sunlight and looked wildly around. As soon as she saw Avis and Hunter, she reeled towards them, babbling in Russian.
Milroy pulled back in alarm and hauled Avis to her feet, "What the hell is she saying?! Where's Stafford and Jud?"
"I don't know!" Avis' head was ringing and she felt completely bewildered. What was Sarah doing?
Mac steadily closed the distance as she tried to keep an hysterical edge in her voice. Avis was looking considerably worse for wear. The man had her by one arm and was holding a pistol in the other. He wasn't pointing it at either of them yet. Mac hoped to keep it that way. He looked angry and confused but not worried by her approach. Mac began angling slightly to the side, she was almost close enough.
She came to an abrupt halt when he suddenly pointed his revolver at her and yelled, "Quit that yammerin' and speak English, goddammit!"
She winced a little as she swept her arm towards the barn and gasped, "Two men... kill each other... try to kill me!" As she had hoped, he let the gun barrel drop as he turned his head and stared at the barn. What Mac had feared also happened. She wasn't nearly as fast with her left hand and he looked back at her in time to realize what she was doing. They fired almost simultaneously. His shot passed so close to her face that she could feel the breeze on her cheek. Her shot hit him in the chest and he staggered backward. He managed to stay upright and when he dragged his pistol up for another shot, Mac fired again. Milroy collapsed in the dirt. Cautiously, she approached, keeping her pistol trained on him. She kicked the revolver away from his outstretched hand and then knelt down to check for a pulse.
Mac finally let herself relax. Milroy was dead. Wearily, she glanced up at Avis, "Are you all right?" Avis stared at Milroy and slowly shook her head, she couldn't seem to stop trembling. Mac took a closer look, taking in the split lip and ashen face. Damn. She climbed to her feet and moved alongside of the young woman, "Avis? I want you to look at me." She waited until Avis raised her eyes and then said quietly, "It's over. We're going to the house and get you cleaned up and then you're going to lay down for a bit."
Once in the house, Mac got Avis into a chair at the kitchen table and headed for the sink. Pulling out a basin, she pumped water into it, grabbed a towel and went back to Avis. Carefully, she began cleaning away the blood and dust. The young woman watched her, although her gaze seemed somewhat distant. Mac gave her a quiet smile, "It's all over and you're safe. They can't hurt you."
There was a small hitch in Avis' breathing and her stare seemed to focus a little more on Mac, "Peavey?"
Mac frowned a little, "Peavey? Was he the second man?" Avis nodded and Mac looked down at the table, "He's dead. I surprised the damn fool and he tried to shoot it out anyway. I killed him."
"Good."
Mac looked up, surprised at Avis' vehemence. She stared at the young woman and then it clicked, "He was the one Avril and Deacon ran off, wasn't he?"
Avis nodded again and then her face crumpled and she began to sob. Mac gathered her in and let her cry - she needed to get this out. Eventually, Avis wound down and pulled back, wiping at her eyes. She looked at Mac ruefully, "I believe this is the most I've cried in years. You must think I'm an awful baby."
Mac shook her head and smiled, "Considering the last few days, I'd be more worried if you didn't cry."
Avis looked at her for a moment and asked quietly, "What happened in the barn, Sarah? The first man went in and then you screamed and there was a shot. I was so scared. Is he...?"
"He's tied up in your tackroom. I ambushed him with a shovel," Mac gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I knew it would worry you but I couldn't think of another way to get them into the barn without suspecting a trap. So I screamed... and shot your grain bin."
Avis' eyebrows rose, "You shot my grain bin?" She couldn't help the grin that forced its way out, "Is it dead?"
Mac tried to look solemn, "I'm afraid so, it hasn't moved since."
Avis began to chuckle and then winced, her hand going to her lip. "Ow."
Standing up, Mac grabbed the basin and towel. "Let me get some fresh water for you." She was at the sink when the back door banged open. With an oath, she dropped the basin and dove for the pistol that she'd placed on the table. She came up in a crouch, aiming at the door.
A powerfully built man with black hair and a beard, stood in the doorway holding a shotgun. Mac heard Corinna Simpson's voice yelling 'Don't Shoot!' at the same time that Avis said 'Uncle Axel!' Mac lowered the pistol with a sigh, this was about to get incredibly awkward.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1030 Local
Tommy blinked, "Sir, I said... "
Rabb cut him off, staring at Fitzgerald intently, "For godsakes, Tommy, get him in here! Now!" Unable to sit, he climbed to his feet, resisting the urge to go out and get the man himself. Whatever he was about to learn, it would be better done in the privacy of his tent. Josiah ruthlessly suppressed any hope that was struggling to make an appearance. A letter didn't necessarily mean that Sarah was still alive.
The tent flap opened and Fitzgerald came in, followed by a tall black man. Rabb put his age somewhere in his fifties. The man came to a halt and regarded Josiah gravely. Rabb was vaguely surprised to see that he seemed neither nervous nor awestruck. The Colonel glanced over at Fitzgerald and snapped, "Dismissed, Sergeant."
Fitzgerald started to protest and then caught the look in Rabb's eyes. With a muttered 'yes sir', he turned and left the tent. Josiah felt a twinge of guilt for treating Tommy that way. Fitzgerald had been nearly as upset about Sarah as he was and just as anxious to learn anything of her. Despite that, Josiah found he couldn't bear the weight of Tommy's sympathy if the news he was about to hear was bad. He would need time to shore up his defenses. He finally looked back to see the black man regarding him patiently. Josiah cleared his throat, "You have a letter?"
Deacon nodded slowly, he could see the man was steeling himself for the worst. "You're Colonel Josiah Rabb?"
"Yes." Josiah didn't trust himself to say more, not with his heart constricting in his chest.
Deacon reached inside his hat and pulled out the letter. Silently, he handed it over. Rabb all but snatched it from his hands, rapidly scanning the contents. Abruptly, he sank onto his cot and re-read it again more slowly. Finally, he looked up and Deacon wasn't surprised to see tears streaming down his face. It was fairly obvious that this man cared deeply about Sarah MacKenzie.
"She's alive," Rabb said it quietly at first, savoring the feeling. He looked up at Deacon and smiled, "She's alive."
"Yes sir, she is," Deacon affirmed with a smile.
Josiah wiped at his face and glanced down at the letter again, "You're Deacon Turner?"
"Yes sir."
"Then I owe you a debt of gratitude." Josiah stood up and stuck out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Deacon shook it. Rabb waved him to a chair, "Sit down, I want to hear everything... Just a moment..." He went to the front of the tent and bellowed, "Sergeant Fitzgerald!"
When Fitzgerald appeared, Josiah couldn't help grinning, "Get in here, Tommy. Sarah's alive." Fitzgerald's eyes widened and he looked over at Deacon in surprise. Rabb grabbed Tommy's sleeve and pulled him over towards the cot. "Sit. Mr. Turner is going to tell us what he knows." He looked at Deacon, "When did you last see her?"
"Three days ago, when I stopped by Miss Avis' place to let her and Miss Sarah know I'd be heading up this way. She gave me the letter and I promised I'd do what I could to deliver it." Deacon sat with his hands idly turning his hat over. He was just a shade nervous. Sometimes white folk got all agitated when he sat in their company and he'd found most Yankees to be an unpredictable lot. He wasn't especially worried about the Colonel. The man had told him to sit, after all, and he was too busy concentrating on the subject of Miss Sarah. The sergeant seemed like a rough and tumble sort, though. Deacon had no desire to be stopped later and given a 'lesson' about his place.
"Is she all right?" Josiah remained standing, too anxious to sit.
"Yes sir, she seemed to be feeling much better when I saw her," Deacon nodded. He didn't know what she'd written but he was willing to bet that she glossed over certain facts.
Josiah glanced down at the letter again, "How was she when you found her? All she says in this is that because of Atkins' changing sides, she was able to escape Caine. Was she hurt?"
Deacon rubbed his jaw, apparently Miss Sarah hadn't wanted to upset the Colonel. The question was, should he? He looked from Rabb to Fitzgerald and back again. Deacon took a deep breath, if someone had taken Chandra, he'd want to know everything - good or bad. "I was on my way home from Strasburg and I was giving Thomas Simpson a ride home as well when we came across a burnt out wagon and two bodies - a man and woman. The man was dead and we thought the woman was dying. It looked like they'd both been shot." He paused for a moment when Rabb suddenly sat down.
"Sarah was shot?"
Deacon gave a slight smile, "Well, yes and no. The man was shot and Miss Sarah told us later that she'd been standing behind him. She got hit by the same bullet. It had enough force left to knock her down but it didn't go through." He shook his head, "I suppose it was like getting walloped by a mighty big stick. For a while, she couldn't hardly move. I couldn't see leaving her there, so me and Thomas put her in the wagon and took her with us. I dropped her off with Miss Payne. Miss Avis is fine Christian woman and smart as a whip. I knew she'd take good care of Miss Sarah and figure a way to keep folks from finding out she was a Yankee, too. No offense, Colonel," he added quickly.
Josiah waved a hand, intrigued by what he was hearing, "What did your Miss Avis do?"
Deacon chuckled, "When she found out Miss Sarah spoke Russian, she told everyone that Miss Sarah was a friend of hers from Europe - that she was the daughter of a Russian diplomat. The good ladies of town have been falling over themselves to meet her."
"Where is she, Mr. Turner?" Josiah couldn't help smiling, Sarah was alive and well!
"Keezletown, sir, in the foothills of Massanutten Mountain," Deacon was puzzled when the Colonel's smile faltered, "Are you all right, Colonel?"
"What? Oh... yes," Josiah stood and offered his hand once again to Deacon, "Thank you for all you've done. I'm truly grateful. Sergeant, make sure Mr. Turner gets back through our lines without any trouble." As politely as he could he ushered the two men out of his tent, earning a bewildered look from Fitzgerald just before he left. Once they were gone, he sank into the chair and leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. Sarah was near Massanutten and the White Horse Tavern. She was going to try to go home and then he'd never see her again. Dammit! He climbed to his feet and began to pace. Somehow, he had to see her and do his best to convince her that she could have a life in this century - with him.