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W e arrived back at our campsite. Caiyan helped Victory into the small two-man tent. Better for her to hide inside. Here I was with my future lover, the mother of his child, and a hundred and three-year-old man. How did I manage to get myself into these messes?

A scout rushed toward us. He stopped short and saluted me. I saluted him. The entire process was exhausting.

“I have a message for General Lee’s scout.”

Sam stepped forward. “I’m his aide-de-camp.”

“General Longstreet declines his offer to meet at headquarters. He feels his duties are required here with his corps. Here is the message to give to him.”

The scout handed Sam a sealed paper.

“I have orders from General Lee,” Sam said, as I had instructed.

“Give them to me and I will deliver them to the general.” The scout held out his hand.

“They are to be delivered in person. The general has taken ill. I have brought the doctor treating him to relay the information of his illness.”

The soldier seemed apprehensive at the request but relented. “I’ll report to General Longstreet straight away and return with his response.” Another salute and he departed double-time in the direction of Longstreet’s headquarters.

Gertie was right. This was like playing an intense game of telephone. No wonder half the orders were misconstrued.

I glanced over at Caiyan. After the scout left, Caiyan ducked inside the small tent. Choosing a thin branch to whittle like I saw Sam doing earlier, I sat as close as I could manage without being obvious to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“What do you make of the good doctor?” Victory asked.

“He’s no wearing a key.”

“If he were a brigand, he would have made his move I imagine.”

“’Tis true. We need to leave here. Find a safe place for you to have the baby.”

“I can’t leave here, there’s still work to be done.”

“For the love of God, you’re pregnant. You cannae go traipsing around the battlefield in your condition.” Caiyan’s voice escalated. I was familiar with the Scot’s temper and was curious to see how Victory handled it.

Glancing over at Sam, he raised his eyebrows toward the tent, and shook his head. “Ma always told me you never argue with a woman when she has her mind set. Do you find this to be true, Doc?”

“Smart woman, your ma.” I smiled at him. “In my experience, it’s always wonderful to get to know women, with the mystery and the joy and the depth. If you can make a woman laugh, you’re seeing the most beautiful thing on God’s Earth.”

Sam’s mouth hung open. I wished I could take credit for the quote, but I had read the profound words from the actor Keanu Reeves in Rolling Stone magazine and it had stuck with me.

“Those are words to live by,” Caiyan moved to the side of the tent and sat listening to my advice. The brogue he used when speaking to Victory had been replaced with the southern drawl I’d become accustomed to on this trip.

“Women deserve the same respect as men demand, I suppose.” I added the last words to sound speculative in relation to this time when men ruled the roost. I thanked my lucky stars the quote wouldn’t be published until later in Caiyan’s life.

“Why don’t you take this off my hands,” Caiyan said to Sam, handing him the sword. “It belonged to a good friend of mine, and I won’t be needing it anymore.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “It’s finely made.”

“Yes, it is.” Caiyan leaned forward on his knees and watched Sam strap on the sword.

Sam stood, drew the blade, and practiced sparring like a Jedi knight using his light saber.

“Any more thoughts on women, doctor?” Caiyan asked me.

“Don’t drag your feet when you find the one.”

He glanced at the tent, and my heart ached.

I needed to get back to Marco and Gertie. Would Caiyan be here when I returned? Most likely not. He’d take Victory to a safe location and stay with her until the baby arrived. How long could that be? Four months maybe. It was hard to tell. Did he leave her here or have them transported back to my time?

I needed to tell Caiyan about the shooting. I had to tell him I know him in the future. If he has a child, he can’t die because of my screwup. What were the chances Victory lived in our time? I thought about all the trips overseas, the business trips when I couldn’t get him on the phone. It all made sense. He was seeing someone else. A woman he chose to hide from the WTF the same way I kept Eli’s key a secret. A woman he hid from me.

Before I could dwell on the matter for so long that it made me crazy, the snort of horse and hooves on ground interrupted me. The scout appeared, riding next to a bearded man astride a dark horse. His deep-set eyes took in our campsite and we stood and saluted. General Longstreet commanded the area. It was much like being in the presence of the rich and famous, and reminded me of the time I met Rocksanna, an eighties diva and vocal music legend. The smell of importance and fame preceded him.

The general saluted. The scout was quick to dismount before his commander and take control of the horses.

“You have information from General Lee?”

“I’m Dr. Seuss.” I offered my hand, and Longstreet shook it, albeit hesitantly. “General Lee has come down with a case of germs.”

“Germs?”

“Very contagious but should only last another day.”

“Soldier, I don’t have another day. I need orders.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam stepped forward. “I have brought you orders to move General Pickett’s division of fresh troops to the front and attack the enemy at its center.”

“The center? Is the General…” his words trailed off, and I knew he stopped himself from committing an act of insubordination. It was a fool’s order, and many men would die, but Sam delivered the words Gertie told him to say.

“It’s General Lee’s command to move the troops forward, sir. You will have support from Hill’s Third Corps. He wishes you to organize an attacking force composed of Pickett’s division, the four of Heth’s divisions, two of Anderson’s and two of Pender’s divisions. Colonel Alexander has been ordered to move his artillery to the high ground and prepare to support the forward attack.”

Sam paused, waited for Longstreet to accept his delivery of the orders.

I prayed Gertie had instructed Sam correctly, and she had done her part and issued the orders to the Corps in support of Longstreet.

His eyes searched mine and I held firm, not breaking eye contact. A trick Jake forced me to practice until I could lie without lowering my gaze. A feat that could save your life. Jake’s words rang true, as I stared forcibly at the general.

Longstreet averted his eyes, frowned, and—finally—saluted. “Give the general my regards.” He snagged the reins from his scout and addressed him directly. “Take the orders to General Pickett. As soon as he makes ready, move his corps into position under the ridge of trees west of the Emmitsburg road.” Longstreet pointed into the direction of the ridge, and my inner voice gave me a high five for keeping history intact.

As the general and his scout departed, Victory, wide eyed and flustered, exited the tent.

“The Rebels are attacking tomorrow in the center?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“I…I must leave, I have mending needs tending.” Her eyes darted between us. Caiyan pulled her aside. “’Tis better if ye stayed here.”

Sam and I stared at them.

“I have work to do. I need to leave immediately,” she insisted.

“What work do ye have at this wee hour?” He had slipped back into his Scottish accent, and I wondered if Sam caught the mistake.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

I turned to find Sam pointing the sword at Victory. Nope, he didn’t miss a thing.

“She’s a spy. She’s going to warn the Feds,” he said.

Caiyan stepped in front of Victory. A man protecting his own. His hand reached for the revolver strapped to his belt.

“Hold on,” I said, but Sam’s aim of the sword didn’t falter.

“Doc, I believe both of them is Yanks.”

“Sam, put the sword down,” I ordered.

“Tell me how you warn them. Are you bedding the soldiers like the Soiled Doves?” He swished the sword at her bulge. “Is that a Yank in your belly?”

I wasn’t close enough to try and take the sword away, and if he stabbed Victory, there would be two lives lost.

She lifted her chin and stepped away from Caiyan’s outstretched arm. “That’s right. It is a Yank.” She cut her eyes at Caiyan. “The child of a brave man. A man who would never treat people like animals, caged, and whipped when they don’t obey their masters.”

Sam’s face screwed up in anger. “We never treated our slaves as such. They’re like family to us.”

Victory threw her head back and laughed. “Family? Does your family empty your chamber pots, rise in the wee hours to make your breakfast? Clean the shit from your animals’ stalls?”

When Sam didn’t answer, Victory continued. “I sew the maps of your old Bobby Lee’s plans into the Rebel coats. Even give the Northern soldiers a lovely red target to aim for.”

Sam’s face drained white. “Will. The red heart.” He turned and hightailed it into the darkness.

Damn. “Sam!” I jerked around to chase him. The cock of the hammer on a revolver made me stop in my tracks.

“Yer no going anywhere, Dr. Seuss.” The condescending way he rolled the name off his tongue told me he thought I might be a brigand.

Turning around slowly, I froze. My inner voice cautioned me to be careful. He was a known killer, and I was walking on thin ice. If he chose, he could break the fragile layer out from under me and end his life in the process. I had to tell him.

Caiyan leveled his revolver at me, but his eyes held questions. I knew the look of uncertainty. He’d used it on me often enough when discussing our relationship. He wasn’t convinced I didn’t have the gift. If he killed me, he might die, too. My layer thickened.

“Where’s yer key?”

“My what?” I used the lie fueled by my anger from Caiyan’s deceit. My eyes locked on his. Victory came forward and patted down my clothes. I’d secured the key in a knit of woolen sock and placed it in a position where a man should have a little something. She ran her hands down the outside of my pockets, across my crotch, but didn’t grope my bogus male member. Checked the inside of my frock coat and came out with the handkerchief and the bottle of chloroform I had used on Miss Maggie.

“He’s clean.” She waggled the bottle in front of Caiyan.

Good! “I need to retrieve my scout. You should be ashamed of yourself,” I said to Victory, then turned toward Caiyan. “And you, you should be court-martialed.” Was that the correct term? I wasn’t sure, but it sounded right. I flailed my arms making a big show of my disappointment in him.

“I’ve got to warn Mead. I’ve sent word the attack will be on the right flank. If he doesn’t know about the change, the south could win this battle,” Victory said. “I’m going to speak with him.”

Caiyan kept his gun on me, his eyes wide. “Let’s take care of the good doctor first.”

Not good! I turned toward Victory to plead my case. It was time to come clean. “Wait! I have to tell you—”

The last thing I remembered were his familiar arms wrapped around me and the scent of earth and cinnamon as Caiyan covered my mouth with a handkerchief. I tried holding my breath, considered fighting, but if he discovered my identity, our memories together would change. The first time we met in the barn in Scotland, and the first time he took me in his arms and made love to me.

My heart’s pace quickened, anxiety, but not mine. The surprise of reading him without wearing my key. Tenacity, bravado, insecurity, swirled inside me, twisting me into his tornado of emotions. Confusing emotions from the man I thought I loved.

It was his fear that forced me to give in. Fear that he wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t want to lose him. I wasn’t ready to forget the memories we made together. Inhaling deeply, I tasted the sweet of the solvent and allowed Caiyan to escape with his pregnant lover.

When I regained consciousness, my head pounded like a thousand cannons firing simultaneously. I forced my eyes open and blinked against the light filtered in through the opening in the tent. It wasn’t my head that concussed like cannons, it was cannons firing in the distance. Many of them.

I cursed Caiyan. He had gagged me with the chloroformed handkerchief, tied my hands in front of me, and hauled me inside the tent. How long was I out? My guess was that with the lack of sleep and the fatigue from the time travel, I’d been out for a while. Colonel Alexander had already started his cannon attack. I surveyed my prison. The small tents were open in the front. They didn’t have the flap like the wall tents, and the opening was held up by hardy tree branches.

I lifted my head, the camp felt deserted. Of course it would. The main attraction was about to take place on the battlefield. There would be injured on the far side of the camp in the field hospitals, but I was far away from them. I dropped my head to the ground and a sharp pain shot into my left eye, causing me to cry out. My stomach churned, and I fought against the desire to throw up. Side effects of the chloroform. I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling as much oxygen as possible. Staring up at the worn material, I sighed. Who was going to find me here?

Marco. If I could get my bound hands inside my pants, retrieve my key and somehow place it around my neck, I’d be able to summon him to me.

I worked the buttons. Damn button fly. These people are going to flip out over the invention of the zipper. As I fumbled with the second button and forced my hand inside my pants a deep guffaw rebounded in the tent.

“Looky who I found, and takin’ care of business his-self. My girls could a done that for ya, but instead you used your potions on me.” Miss Maggie taunted me as her bulky frame leaned inside the tent.

She drug me out by my Brogans and hovered over me. I spoke into the gag. “Your slave’s a spy.”

“What are you sayin’?” She ripped the cloth from my mouth.

“Ouch!” The way she tore the gag from my face smarted and displaced my fake mustache. Covering my top lip, I repeated myself, “Your slave girl is a spy.”

“That’s ridiculous, she ain’t got the smarts to be a spy.”

“I was supposed to take her to General Lee, he’d give a mighty fine reward if you help me catch her.”

“Too late. There’s another fella that’s offered me a fair price for the girl.” The silhouette of a man stepped into my line of vision. Mortas. Perfect timing.

“Here’s one of them no gooders. Says my darkie’s a spy.”

Mortas assessed me with his cold, menacing eyes. My bare throat was dry and scratchy. I pushed hard to secure my mustache in place and swallowed hard. Two minutes later and they would have found me with my pants down and my key around my neck.

“Found him in the tent pleasin’ his-self.”

Mortas twisted his face and raised a disgusted upper lip at me.

As if. I recounted my lie. “Your slave girl ran off with a man.”

“What did this man look like?” Mortas asked.

He didn’t act like he identified me. We hadn’t had much interaction over the years. I had dealt more with his younger siblings.

“Dark hair, green eyes, spoke funny like a Brit. I’m just trying to help these soldiers.”

Toches sidled up to Mortas. When he looked down at me, instant recognition gleaned in his eyes.

I was busted and there was nothing I could do about it. My tale of the helpful doctor just went south. They would probably feed me to Miss Maggie.

“We should leave him,” Toches said. “He’ll be a burden, and he’s going to have a mess of injured to handle shortly.”

Toches didn’t blow my cover. What the heck?

“Which way did they go?” Mortas asked me.

“Toward the town.” I wasn’t sure which way they went, but it would keep the brigands on a search away from the places I intended to go.

Toches squatted down beside me. “Better work those knots doctor, in a few hours you’re going to be very busy.” The three of them stepped away from me, leaving me spread eagle on the ground, my pants undone, and relief flooding my bones. Toecheese didn’t give me away? The first battle of the day was a victory.

“Well if it ain’t that wanker from York town and his sidekick.”

I huffed. Dammit, not now. Mortas stopped and turned toward the voice.

I lifted my head to see Brodie standing hands on hips. “Look at ya, old git. You didn’t age well. And check out Kishin Toches, ya hairs all tidied up, like the boy Robin to evil Batman. The Mr. Smee to his Captain Hook, the—”

“You Aussie asshole,” Toches snarled, “We eliminated your friend.”

Brodie’s face dropped. “If you’re referring to the Scot, we aren’t friends.”

“Not yet,” Toches said.

“Ah, since you’ve finished my job for me, I’ll be taking my arse home.”

Mortas gave Toches a sideways glare. It was never good to inform about the future. They may not be friends yet, but Brodie would warn Caiyan about his impending doom.

“What Kishin means is young McGregor has used this doctor to locate the key and has chosen to take his prize into an area of imminent danger.” Mortas waved a hand over me.

Brodie dropped his gaze downward, took me in. “Who are you?”

“I’m General Lee’s private doctor, and I’d appreciate it if you’d untie me.”

Miss Maggie decided to chime in. “He’s the one used his medicines on me, knocked me plum out, then stole my girl.”

“I was ordered to do so by the man in question. He had a gun, and I didn’t know your slave girl was a spy.” My lie sounded like truth even to me.

“She ain’t no spy.” Miss Maggie stumbled over her words.

“This meeting has been well…ordinary,” Mortas said to Brodie.

“Thank you, Miss Maggie, you’ve been a tremendous help. He peeled off a few dollars and gave them to her, then turned toward Brodie.

“We shall confiscate the key shortly, and by the by, you didn’t age so well yourself.”

Brodie reached a hand up and ran it over his glorious hair.

Mortas chuckled, “See you in ten years.” Toches followed him accompanied by an overzealous Miss Maggie offering more of her tremendous services.

Brodie bent down and frisked me. Avoiding my crotch. When he didn’t come up with anything, he pulled out a bowie knife and cut my ropes.

I rubbed my wrists. “Thank you. These ropes were cutting into my flesh.”

“Don’t think about running,” Brodie waved his knife at me. “You’re going to take me to the Scot.”

My mind gathered the data and made a list of reasons for and against the request. I needed to find Sam. He was on the battlefield because of Victory. In order to find Sam, I needed to speak with Gertie for the location of Will’s regiment. I couldn’t take Brodie to Lee’s headquarters because he might see Gertie, and I wouldn’t risk screwing up Gertie’s happily ever after.

If I led Brodie where I thought Caiyan went, I’d at least put him on the right track to catch his brigand, but I’d leave Gertie alone for more time than I had intended.

Brodie placed his hand to his key and a soft glow lit under the bandanna he wore around his neck. “Let’s get going, Doc.” He held out his hand to me and I allowed him to pull me up. Confidence and determination shot up my arm. Same old Brodie. His passion gave me hope.

A few minutes later, Ace met us standing on the trail to hell.

“Who is this?” Ace wasn’t all glam and avant-garde like the man I had become accustomed to and loved like a brother. In fact, he seemed repressed.

“A doctor who’s seen our mark,” Brodie said.

Ace stared at me for a long moment. “Have you checked ’im?”

“Ya, I did. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“Bloody ’ell. Just askin’, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Ah, there he is. I smiled. “Nice accent.”

Ace’s eyes widened. “Brilliant, we’re out of character, and you started it, hon.” He pointed a finger at Brodie.

Brodie huffed. These two were acting like a clip of the Three Stooges, and as the show developed the third stooge came to the front line. Two guns strapped to his belt.

“Who are you supposed to be? Clint Eastwood?” Ace asked Gerry.

“In your dreams.” Gerry shot a glance my way, “Who’s he?”

“The doctor,” Brodie said.

“He knows which way our crafty Scot has gone,” Ace added.

“Yeah? So do I. Saw the mark riding north on the Emmitsburg road. Got a girl with him.”

I bit my bottom lip. They were riding toward Mead’s camp.

“Why didn’t you follow them?” Brodie asked Gerry.

“They’re heading toward the battle. I’m not going anywhere near Cemetery Ridge this time of day. Getting shot is not in my contract. I’m the intel guy.”

Gerry hadn’t changed much.

“Guess who else is here?” Ace asked Gerry as if they were guests at a cocktail party.

“Your momma?”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Mortas, sporting an adult vibe and looking very devilish with his salt and pepper hair.”

“And he’s towing Toches with him,” Brodie added.

“What should we do with ’im?” Ace asked, nodding a head in my direction.

“I’m taking him with us. He’s seen the Scot and he might be of use if one of us catches a bullet,” Brodie said.

“It won’t be me. I’ll be at the tavern.” Gerry gave a wave as he walked away. “Let me know when you’ve apprehended the nasty Scotsman.”

“What are the chances of ’im getting shot today?” Ace watched Gerry walk away.

“Chances are good,” I said. “Of it actually happening…we couldn’t be so lucky.”

“Hey, I like this wanker,” Brodie chuckled. “Let’s ride.”