The captain possessed an economy on words. She glanced over his shoulder. Lucas was tied to a tree. He shook his head at her. Oh, how he had little faith in her abilities.
“Is it necessary to tie a son of the Confederacy to a tree?”
“We really don’t know who you are—”
“Has anyone tended his wounds or offered him food and drink?” Her tone was censorial.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He has helped me greatly to reach my husband at great risk to his life. I feel—”
Captain Albury offered his arm. “The new colonel is in camp. We’ll let him decide.”
The cornbread heaved into her throat. She wanted more time to figure out an escape. “You said you were not to get a new commander until the end of the week.”
“That’s right ma’am. General Lee decided to mix two cavalry units under one commander.”
Damn.“How wonderful.” She smiled prettily up to the captivated captain and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Lead the way.”
Rachel took a deep breath trying to remember what little Lucas had shared about his family and his brother, Ryan, to make her story plausible. This must be her finest role to convince the Rebel commander to release them.
Rows of tents were erected, and the crisp crackle of glowing fires dotted the encampment, affording warmth and a melodious lullaby for the weary, worn-out, bearded Rebels. Some played poker or dominoes, others wrote letters. A bullet-ridden Old Glory waved in the breeze in discord to the metallic pinging of coffee cups and utensils. A low rumble of supply wagons rolled in, spiraling up a wave of dust. She winced. The men were gaunt, barefoot and reduced to eating hardtack.
She liked wearing something feminine again yet fidgeted at the number of stares accompanied by polite nods and friendly waves from the soldiers, making her feel like a queen returned from banishment. Colonel Rourke must be popular with these men. She’d use the status of being his wife to manipulate whoever was in charge.
They passed a hospital tent where a group of nuns worked dressed in black tunics with white wide cornets, giving the appearance of wings. She had heard of the Sisters of Charity, battlefield nurses who had witnessed the worst of the war’s atrocities, yet continued with their devoted acts of mercy. They stepped beyond a line of tied up horses, munching on hay, and then drew up to a tent where a flag of Old Glory fluttered and snapped in the wind.
Captain Albury patted her hand. “Wait here while I announce you.”
Confident in her posing as Colonel Ryan Rourke’s wife, she eavesdropped on the conversation inside.
“We have picked up a Captain Davis and a civilian, sir,” said Captain Albury. “They have been unable to explain their presence in the area.”
“Do they have passes?” the commander snapped. It was the kind of voice that cut through with hot authority. No, worse, it was the kind of voice that would make the devil jump. She wiped clammy hands down her skirts.
“Yes, sir,” Captain Albury said. “But the passes were washed out and don’t look at all official which makes me suspicious.”
Rachel twisted her fingers. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Let me see them.”
“The civilians or the passes?”
“The civilians!”
“I should caution you, sir.” The captain lowered his voice. Rachel leaned to hear him. “The woman has the shameful notion she’s your wife.”
The blood drained from her face.Colonel Ryan Rourke!Never in a million years did she expect to come face to face with him. Her luck had run out. Lucas had told her his brother’s promise to kill him if he met him in battle. For sure, they’d both be hanging before the sun set.
“This is interesting. Bring her in first,” he said.
The tent flap opened. Her wits scrambled. Her eyes fell on Lucas’ brother as he sat at his desk with a cigar gritted between his teeth and so menacing, and so like Lucas with his dark hair, strong nose and quintessential smirk. The air in the tent cooled several degrees, and even the shadows deepened as though he held the darkness with him, wearing it about his broad shoulders like a regal mantle tailored for the devil, himself. He tipped his chair back, appraising her from head to toe, in that same carelessly infuriating manner as Lucas had done. His eyes settled on her face.
“Why, you have to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. But as to claim to be my—”
“Your wife, darling.” It was that touch of Rourke superiority that gave her all the courage she needed. She sped around his desk and clapped her hands on his shoulders. “You don’t look at all well. You should have sent for me sooner,” Rachel admonished then glanced at the mystified Captain Albury. She cleared her throat. “Could you close the tent flap? The colonel and I should have some privacy.”
The colonel dropped his chair to all fours. “Now look here, ma’am—”
