Honor Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Volume II) Read online

  Embarrassed at her display of amusement, and not wishing to risk a confrontation with Hunter, Andrea ignored the two men until she was on her way back to the barn.

  “Gentlemen.” She nodded as she walked by, her eyes meeting Hunter’s for a moment before she turned her head. Although she would have loved the opportunity to speak with him, Andrea didn’t think it was appropriate with Captain Carter present.

  She was only a few steps away when she heard Captain Carter speak, a tinge of suspicion obvious in his tone.

  “Got over her fear of horses right well, didn’t she?”

  Andrea forced herself to keep walking even as she strained to hear Hunter’s reply. Apparently there wasn’t one, because Carter spoke again. “Seems to me like she’s got a bit of the mule in her. Don’t reckin she’ll ever be tame enough for a man to marry.”

  Even though she was just about to re-enter the barn, Andrea paused and pretended to be adjusting her skirt. She barely heard Hunter’s reply before she disappeared into its depths.

  “She holds the reins of her life a little too tightly to relinquish them to a mere mortal man, I assure you.”

  Chapter 36

  A crisis is opportunity riding the dangerous wind.

  – Chinese Proverb

  Two weeks later

  Hunter wondered why Zach didn’t meet him in front of the house as was his custom, but he didn’t dwell on his servant’s absence. Urging Dixie forward, he dismounted right outside the barn and then turned to remove the saddle.

  “That’s all right, Zach. I got it,” he said when he heard someone approaching from behind.

  A loud thud, followed by a flash of light was the next thing he remembered as a solid object made contact with his head. He instinctively fought, but he was soon blindsided by another blow to his temple and fell to the ground, dazed.

  Within seconds, his hands were tied behind his back and he was jerked to his feet by two men, one on each side.

  “Bet you didn’t expect to see me again, did you Majah?”

  Hunter blinked through the fog and took in the sight of Samuel Burley, a man who had requested to join his unit some months ago. Since he was well-known as a drunkard of low moral character, Hunter had rejected the request. It was clear now that he’d been correct in his evaluation—but what the price might be for that decision was yet unknown.

  Struggling and yelling despite the men’s obvious advantage, Hunter hoped to keep the villains from going into the house—and if they did, to at least provide some warning that they were coming. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Burley cocked his gun and put it to Hunter’s head to quiet him. “Since I’m not good enough to serve under you, I thought I may as well collect the bounty the Yankees have on you.” The man spat into the dirt. “Ain’t that right, Tate?”

  Hunter heaved in a deep breath and transferred his gaze to the scraggly, long-haired man on his right. He appeared to have been dredged from a riverbank, so dirty was his face and hands. It was clear that neither man knew anything of cleanliness, discipline, or integrity.

  “You’re making a big mistake, Burley.” Hunter returned his eyes to the ruffian who’d addressed him.

  “I’m making a big mistake?” He laughed as they began dragging him toward the house. “I think you’re the one that made a mistake by thinking I ain’t good enough to serve with you.”

  “Who else is inside?” Burley asked, as he pushed Hunter up the steps of the porch.

  He was just about to say “no one” when Victoria ran out the door.

  “Alex! Alex!” She stopped and eyed the men whose guns were drawn. “I thought I heard you yell something?”

  “Get back inside,” Hunter instructed in a cool voice, though he wondered how someone who could sleep through thunder had heard the commotion he had caused while fighting like a demon outside. He wondered where Andrea was…if she’d heard the commotion as well.

  “That’s right sweet lady. Get back inside. We’ll be right behind you.”

  Hunter winced. Victoria was already sobbing like a child. He took some consolation in the fact that Captain Carter was expected within the hour, but he was not sure how he was going to be able to stall the two ruffians until then—especially with no weapon and both hands tied behind his back.

  “How many other women you got in here?” Burley asked pushing his gun into Hunter’s ribs.

  He remained quiet, hoping Andrea had found a place to hide by now.

  “Andrea’s here. S-s-he’s in your library.” Victoria sobbed pathetically.

  Hunter turned his head and gave a penetrating gaze to Victoria, but she was too stricken with fear to notice the look of scorn.

  “Lead the way,” the man nudged him with his gun again. “May as well get y’all together, so we can keep our eyes on you.”

  Hunter assumed Andrea was in his library in the back of the house seeking a book to read, so he tripped and stomped, hoping to make as much noise as possible. When he stepped into the room and saw the chair she usually occupied was empty, he began to relax a little. His eyes darted to the bookshelf she usually perused. Not there either.

  He let out a long breath.

  “Now what do we have here?” Burley said with a tone of approval.

  Hunter’s eyes followed the man’s voice to his desk, where Andrea sat with her hands on her lap. She stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed thoughtfully on nothing at all, as if she was finding it a convenient time to puzzle over the many profound mysteries of life.

  “Do as they say, Miss Evans,” Hunter said in a low, warning tone, fearing something was amiss. Her apparent indifference to the intrusion worried him.

  She responded with an impersonal nod of her head, but otherwise displayed no attentiveness to the scene unfolding before her.

  The two men suddenly pushed him forward, with one of them remaining on each side.

  “Now ain’t this a nice little party,” the scraggly-looking man said. “Who’d have thought the Kulnel would have, not one, but two, mistresses hid away here all to hisself!”

  Hunter’s eyes shot back to Andrea, whose jaw had just become a little more firmly set. She remained sitting calmly though, staring directly back at the man, with her usual look of cool and dauntless fortitude. It was then that he noticed the top drawer hanging all the way open, and his two extra revolvers missing. His eyes went from the drawer, to her hands that were not visible, to her eyes. She gave him a look that was both comforting and alarming in its fearlessness, then blinked slowly three times.

  If her heart was beating as fiercely as his at this point, she did not show it. Rather, she appeared perfectly composed and resolute, ignoring it seemed, the fact that the men on each side of him had guns aimed at his head—and also at no great distance from it. And though she was calm, her eyes seemed to glow as one who is expecting a fight.

  He closed his eyes. Make that like one who is welcoming a fight.

  Hunter’s mind processed the information swiftly. A person who possessed more courage than discretion, whose actions were generally more instinctive than thoughtful, was going to do something on the count of three…and he was helpless to intervene.

  All he could do was hope she knew what she was doing, because reckless valor appeared no less dangerous to him at the moment than the two hooligans by his side.

  Hunter surveyed her demeanor once again. Nothing about her expression or deportment indicated any fear. Rather, she was staring into space, somewhat like a cat does as it waits for its prey to try to escape. Victoria, on the other hand, was sobbing and hanging onto the back of his shirt as if it were a life preserver in churning seas.

  “Victoria,” Hunter said, still looking at Andrea. “Why don’t you go stand behind Miss Evans.”

  “No, I-I-I…”

  “Do as I say!” he yelled a little louder than he intended in a tone that she didn’t dare disobey.

  Victoria whimpered as if she ha
d been beaten, then sulked over to a chair in the corner and sat down, still sobbing and whimpering.

  “Pretty lady, why don’t you come out from behind that desk?” Burley’s partner seemed to have noticed Andrea’s calm, methodical stare right through him. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “She’s crippled,” Hunter interjected. “She can’t walk.”

  Andrea removed her gaze from the man and turned it upon Hunter, causing him to hold his breath. Her ominous glare indicated she was meditating heavily on a physical response—and he wasn’t sure upon whom her wrath would be directed. Though she was concealing her emotions well, he could sense violence through that frozen smile—as one can sense when a horse is getting ready to kick.

  He watched her take a deep breath, as if to compose herself, and then she returned her gaze to the man nearest to him—Burley.

  “It appears you have not been very kind to Major Hunter.”

  Andrea looked the man in the eye as she spoke, but nodded toward Hunter and the large gash on the side of his head, where they had subdued him with the butt of a gun.

  The men laughed simultaneously and lowered their guns slightly, a hint to Hunter that her plan was working. Little did they know, the innocent-looking woman in front of them was making swift calculations; taking silent notes.

  “The major’s head is esteemed by the Yankees as a valuable piece of anatomy, young lady,” Burley replied. “The bounty does not require or stipulate that it be in good condition—or alive for that matter.”

  The men laughed again, this time even louder, while Andrea laughed lightly along with them as if appreciating the joke.

  Hunter could feel the men relaxing their grip on him as their attention became concentrated instead on conversing with the charming lady in front of them. He suddenly felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy for his captors. She would fight with every weapon in her personal arsenal—yet that is also what he feared.

  “Surely he is worth more alive than dead?” She opened her green eyes wide and batted them in an innocent-looking manner.

  Hunter had grown to have great confidence in his houseguest’s ability to bluff her way through anything, but still she surprised him. Where did she inherit this imperturbable coolness in danger?

  “Maybe he is, and maybe he ain’t. Just maybe it’d be worth our while to get rid of him and not worry about him escaping. What’s it to you?”

  Burley put his hand on a dagger at his side with brutally suggestive care as he spoke, but Hunter knew Andrea had extracted the information she had been seeking. She had proven to herself—and to him—that there was no room for negotiations. Drastic action needed to be taken.

  But none of this did she show on her face. Rather, she smiled warmly in answer to his question. “As you men are armed and I am not, it is of no concern of mine,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “But I am not immune from curiosity. Tell me, how much he will bring?”

  She paused briefly now, her eyes shifting to Hunter for a split second as if to warn him to get ready, then returned to the men.

  “One thousand? Two thousand? Three…”

  When she got to three thousand all hell broke loose. Hunter dove for the floor, knocking both men off balance. Andrea stood and fired both revolvers simultaneously, and Victoria began screaming hysterically, “Heavenly Father save me! Save me!”

  Carter heard gunshots and a woman screaming, and ran toward Hunter’s library to seek the cause. He had his own gun drawn, looking for targets, but it soon became clear that he was just in time to be too late.

  What he saw in the smoke-filled room was Hunter’s houseguest, Andrea, sprawled on her stomach across the major’s desk, with two guns aimed at a man who was shot in the shoulder and appeared dazed. Another man was sprawled in the middle of the floor, apparently dead. Hunter was struggling to stand up with his hands tied behind his back, and Miss Hamilton was rocking back and forth in the corner, her hands over her eyes, screaming at the top of her lungs, “I’m too young to die!”

  Andrea put the guns down as Carter assisted Hunter with one hand, while keeping his revolver trained on the still-living man.

  “I never shot anybody before,” Andrea said, her expression one of astonishment, bordering on horror.

  “Now’s a nice time to tell me that! What if you had missed?” Hunter said, as Carter removed his bindings. “You were within an ace of hitting me.”

  Andrea reared back with obvious offended dignity. “Missed? At this range? Standing still? You must be joking, Major.”

  Both men stopped what they were doing and stared at her as she nonchalantly smoothed out her gown.

  “I dare say, even a cripple could have made that shot,” she said coldly. “And had you trusted me enough to stand still, both bullets would have hit their mark.”

  The two men turned and watched in disbelief at her intrepid coolness as she impatiently pushed a tendril of hair out of her face, picked up her cane and prepared to exit the room with the air of a royal. At the doorway she paused and turned around to address the men.

  “Cannot one of you gentlemen shut her up?” She nodded toward Victoria who continued to present a spectacle of helpless terror. “She’s going to split her throat open from all that bawling.”

  They both glanced from Victoria, to the men on the floor and back to the doorway in perfect unison.

  “Looks to me like she’s got about as much fear of guns as she does of horses,” Carter mumbled when she’d disappeared from view. At that moment, the man who’d been injured finally regained his senses.

  “You won’t get away with this,” he said through gritted teeth. “There’s dozens more coming.”

  Chapter 37

  They outnumbered our force two to one, but we were playing a bold game, and the bold game generally wins in war as well as in cards.

  – Captain George Baylor, Mosby Ranger (43rd Va. Cavalry)

  “What did you say?” Hunter swung around and faced the man.

  “You heard me.” Tate’s gaze shot around the room. “Burley gathered up some deserters and guys from Clark’s brigade. Told ‘em to give him time to get the Major and then come help themselves to as many horses as they wanted.”

  Hunter’s gaze turned to Carter and then to Andrea, who had somehow heard and returned to the doorway.

  “Believe me,” the man snarled. “You ain’t going to stop them.”

  Hunter knew the type of men Tate referred to. They were not legitimate soldiers even if they wore the uniform of the Union army. They were desperados who murdered and plundered at will, often times burning homes of loyal southerners to the ground just for the sport. They struck homes that offered the greatest inducement in reward, inflicting as much pain as possible on loyal inhabitants. Though cowards for the most part, they pretended audacity by attacking the weak, and by making their raids only when in large groups.

  “How many are there?” Hunter asked as he quickly bound the man’s hands behind his back with the same rope that had been used on him.

  “I ain’t saying another word.”

  Hunter took a glove and shoved it into the man’s mouth. “Here’s to making sure you don’t find your voice when the others arrive.” He turned to Carter. “We don’t have enough time to gather any men. Take this one to the barn and lock him in a stall. Then find Zach and take the breeding stock to the woods. We’ve already got the most severely injured in the front paddocks for treatment.”

  A loud shrill scream filled the air as Victoria took in the seriousness of the situation. “Who cares about the horses. What about me?”

  Both men in the room turned and looked at her. “Go to your chamber and lock the door, Victoria.”

  When she hesitated, Hunter spoke even louder. “Now!”

  His tone and his expression apparently made her heed his order. She scampered out of the room in front of Carter, who hurried away to carry out his mission as well.

  Hunter st
rode over to the far wall and grabbed a large gun that hung on the wall by the fireplace.

  “Carter and I have this under control,” he said to Andrea. “You stay in the house. Keep Victoria quiet.” He gave his directions calmly and loudly as if on the field of battle, but the plan was hastily rejected.

  “You keep Victoria quiet.” Andrea held out her hand for the immense weapon that appeared to be a remnant of the previous war. “Give me the gun.”

  “That is absurd.” He turned his back to her, and spoke over his shoulder as he opened drawers searching for ammunition. “Now be a good girl. Go upstairs and lock your door.”

  “I do not take orders from you.”

  Hunter whirled around at the tone. “This is not the time for one of your sparring matches. And these men are not your enemy, they are mine.”

  “They are everyone’s enemy,” was the immediate reply. “They are cowardly plundering murdering dogs who rob from the dead and steal from the living. Give me the gun.”

  When Hunter did nothing but glare at her and continue readying the weapon, Andrea spoke again with a calm, steady voice. “Major, you wear the uniform of their enemy. At best they’ll steal everything you have. At worst they’ll burn this place to the ground when they see you—or more likely, shoot you for the bounty when they see you are still here. They are in Federal uniform, though thieves they may be. We both know that you will incite the wrath of the North if you kill them outright. The wise thing to do would be let me get rid of them.”

  Hunter soundly rejected the idea. “I do not need to hide behind your skirts.”

  “You do not need to die in front of them either,” Andrea retorted. “Give. Me. The. Gun.”

  Hunter looked at her, feeling a mixture of shock and wonder.

  “I cannot,” he answered, still hesitating to take the risk. “It is too dangerous.”

  “Oh, thunder! It is only dangerous for you,” Andrea answered. “They are not going to shoot a woman.”

  “The former is accepted. The latter is not. These men are desperate. It would be suicide to go out there.”