Page 23

B rodie sent Ace to follow Mortas. Discreetly. The Ace I knew didn’t do discreet, and I wished him luck as he left us.

As Brodie and I rode toward Lee’s camp, we passed hordes of men making ready for battle. Some dozed in the warm sunshine, others sewed their names inside their jackets.

The machine gun cannonade ceased fire, and the calm before the storm settled among the men. Some of the men watched curiously as we passed, their weary faces touched with a tint of pink from the prior days’ march in the summer sun.

I scrutinized each soldier in search of Sam. His lanky frame and tuft of white hair didn’t present itself. As we left the soldiers and cut across to Lee’s camp, I made small talk with Brodie.

“I take it you’re some sort of bounty hunter?”

“Sure.”

Brodie wasn’t much on small talk.

“The man you’re after, is he a spy?”

“No, he’s a criminal.”

“Like the two men earlier?” I wanted him to peg me as a nosy doctor. “Seemed like Yankee spies to me.”

“They’re Yankees all right. Make their living stealing things that don’t belong to them and controlling people.”

“Like the key everyone’s looking for?”

Brodie gave an uncommitted grunt.

“That key must open something valuable.”

“The criminals think it opens an ancient treasure.”

“What do you think?”

“I think ya ask too many questions.”

“If it’s valuable, I can help you find it.”

“Thanks, Doc, but I have a feelin’ you’re going to be in high demand in a few hours.”

I agreed and kicked up the pace on my mount. Brodie followed suit. I had to hurry—in less than an hour these men would be lined up and marched forward.

As we entered Lee’s camp, things seemed to be disorganized. A group gathered around his tent. I dismounted and explained to Brodie I needed to check on the general.

“There’s the doctor,” one of the men hollered and pointed a thick finger my direction.

“I demand to see the general!” A bulbous nosed, bearded man shouted into my face.

I gave him the hand, and he halted, flustered by my abrupt motion.

“I’ll see him before the likes of any of you. If he’s free of germs, then you can be permitted a short audience.”

The crowd bucked and hissed. Brodie helped me push my way through the throng of men.

He was unsure about the germs, and took precautions by standing guard, arms across his chest, daring one of Lee’s staff to breach his position.

Thankful Gertie wasn’t outside and Brodie didn’t want to come inside, I ducked under the flap.

My gaze swept across the room. Marco sat with a blanket over his head and a gun across his lap, and Gertie stood at a table stirring a foul-smelling substance in a chamber pot.

She startled when I entered the tent.

“Where in the hell have you been?” Marco peered from under the blanket. His blue eyes flooded with relief, but his words singed me like a branding iron.

I placed a finger to my lips and spoke in a soft tone.

“Good to see you too. How are you feeling?”

“I’m peachy keen, what do you think?”

“He’s grouchy. Did you find the Victory key or the seer?” Gertie whispered to me.

“Victory is the seer. Caiyan is with her. She’s pregnant.”

Gertie’s eyes went wide. I turned toward Marco. “Caiyan seems to know her quite well. Do you know of her?”

Marco shook his head, and I had to assume he didn’t, or the clue on the sword would have been obvious to him. There was no way he’d protect a secret of Caiyan’s, especially if it involved a woman.

“If Caiyan is rogue, it’s during the time I wasn’t working for the WTF.”

“It doesn’t matter, I need to find Sam.”

“Where’s Sam?” Marco asked.

“I don’t know. Victory is a spy for the Union.” I explained the situation about the maps. “She identifies the carriers with a red heart sewn into their coats. Sam took off after a friend. He—.”

“His friend had a heart sewn on his jacket.” Gertie finished my sentence.

“Yes, I need to figure out what regiment the friend is in. If Sam gets killed our entire mission goes awry.”

“Sam won’t have the sword for Caiyan to discover,” Gertie said.

“Sam won’t be alive and living in Texas.” Marco moved to sit on the side of the cot. “I see your point.”

“Sam’s friend was…is named Will. He’s from the same regiment as Sam, the Seventh Tennessee. He told Sam he was under the command of Major General Heth.” I walked over to the map General Lee had spread across the desk. Using a pencil, I drew the patch I recalled from Will’s jacket.

“That would be the third brigade.” Gertie placed a marker on the map. “They’re part of Pickett’s charge.”

“Pickett’s charge!” My DEFCON level shot to a one.

“Jen, this brigade along with General Armistead’s brigade made it to the high-water mark.”

“The furthest in the battle of Gettysburg.” I grabbed Gertie’s shoulder. “He’s going to the front line. I’ve got to stop him!”

“Jen, you can’t.”

I reached for my pocket watch to check the time and realized I gave it to Sam. “I still have time. Where do they enter the battlefield?”

“Here,” she pointed to a spot on the map. “They line up along Seminary Ridge. Archer’s brigade is the fourth regiment down from our direction.”

“What’s General Archer look like?”

Gertie shook her head. “He won’t be there. He was captured on the first day of the battle. I believe Colonel Fry oversees that brigade, but I’ve no idea how to identify him.”

I surveyed the letters on the table. Requests from other generals, letters from loved ones. An incomplete letter written by General Lee to his wife lay aside from the other papers. “I’ll need an order. Can you copy his handwriting?”

Gertie set to work providing me an authentic order to retrieve Lee’s aide and his good friend.

Marco limped over to view the map. “As your defender, I forbid you to go.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat. “What I meant was, I don’t like you going alone. I should go with you.”

“I’m riding over there and pulling Will and Sam off the front lines, General Lee’s orders.” Gertie handed me the letter and I stamped it with the seal on Lee’s desk. “I’ll be back before the battle begins.”

I started to leave and stopped short. Turning around to speak to them, “I have another problem. Brodie thinks I know where Caiyan is, he’s outside.”

“My Brodie?” Gertie’s eyes twinkled.

“No, not yet, and I don’t want you to talk to him because it could ruin your meet cute in the future.”

The scary thing about time travel is there’s always a chance when I return, my life will be different. People I love would be gone because I messed up history, or they won’t have any recollection of me. If I tell Caiyan who I am and how we met, he wouldn’t take advantage of me in the barn. Our relationship wouldn’t exist. My first love affair would be sucked down the toilet in one revelation, and I feared the same for Gertie.

“You’d better hurry. I don’t know how I’m going to keep Lee’s staff at bay much longer. The natives are getting restless.” She hiked a thumb toward the front of the tent.

“How are you keeping them out?”

“The concoction I have in the bowl is part cow manure, part tobacco, and part gunpowder. I call it sewer manure.”

“Imagine smelling that for the last twenty-four hours.” Marco wrinkled his nose.

“It’s the sulfur you smell. Every so often I carry it outside and announce how painful it was for the general to pass such foulness. I dump it in the waste, tell the onlookers General Lee’s germs is starting to show signs of improvement. Seems to keep them at a distance.”

“You’re brilliant.” I draped an arm across her shoulders.

“How are we going to get General Lee back from the abyss?” Marco asked.

“I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve got to concentrate on what matters most, and that’s saving Sam.”

“I can help with Brodie,” Gertie said. “He’s always up for a good game of cards. I saw some of the men playing cards on that old door they’ve got set up as a table.”

I remembered seeing the men gathered around the table when I arrived.

“You can take this,” she pointed to the bowl of ick. “The waste is on the other side of the table. Brodie will follow you and get his mind on the game, then you can sneak away.”

Marco chewed on his lower lip. His need to keep me safe fought against the injured leg and knowing he had to keep up the ruse as General Lee until we figured out why my vessel wouldn’t return. “Be careful.”

“Awe, you care about me.” I smiled at him.

“Sure I do.” I stood on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek, and he turned his head. “I can’t kiss you dressed like a dude. You don’t look like you.”

“That’s a good thing because there’s lots of people we know here, and I can’t afford to be identified.”

“Who else is here?” Marco looked alarmed.

“Mortas for starters. He didn’t make me, but Toecheese saw me, and I’m sure he recognized me, but he didn’t call me out.”

“Huh, you can be assured, that weasel has a reason.” Marco waved his hand in front of his nose as Gertie added another ingredient to the bowl of sewer manure “Man, that shit stinks.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” I picked up the bowl and the aroma made me gag. I held it at arm’s length and exited the tent.

Gertie was right—it worked like magic. The sea of men parted, giving me a broad path. Brodie held his nose and followed me but detoured at the cards. I dumped the bowl into the sump hole the camp used to contain waste and scurried around the backside of the camp.

Escaping from Brodie wasn’t difficult. When he saw the card table he was drawn in like flies to a cesspool. He joined in the game with members of Lee’s staff and generals who had already seen time on the battlefield.

My only problem—the horse I had commandeered on the way here was tied up behind Brodie. There was no way I’d make the distance on foot in time to save Sam. General Lee’s gray stallion grazed in the pen at the edge of the camp.

After securing my transportation, I rode in the direction Gertie had shown me on the map. Cutting back along Seminary Ridge, I passed men from the Second Corps. Their eyes grew wide at the sight of a man on General Lee’s horse. A brazen colonel stopped me. I held my breath and I showed him the sealed paper. He waved me on.

I moved deeper into the woods, away from the mass of men readying for battle. This would never work. I’d be stopped and questioned at every checkpoint. A cardinal chirped anxiously on what was left of a burned-out tree. My mom told me cardinals brought good luck with them.

The bird chortled and flew away, hopefully not taking the luck with him. I needed a set of wings for a bird’s eye view, or a lookout tower. I stopped in front of a giant oak. Its trunk forked halfway up the base, making for an excellent climbing tree. A small orchard of peach trees surrounded the base of the giant oak. It was nothing in comparison to the orchard trampled flat from the prior day’s fight, but the pink blooms still clung to the branches as if defending their part of the battlefield.

I dismounted and secured the horse to one of the peach trees. I climbed as high as I could manage, and the view stole my breath. Thousands of men had stepped from the woods, still out of the view of the Union Army hunkered down behind the stone wall thirteen football fields away.

Bands played as if the regiments were passing in review. Onlookers cheered their support from the sidelines. My stomach went queasy as I scoured the men for Sam.

Division colonels rode their mounts, shouting their battle cries. The captains paced back and forth in front of the lines, dressing their men. I counted as each one met the end of his responsibility and guesstimated Sam’s place amongst them.

I lowered myself from the tree and about halfway down I stepped on a branch damaged from a cannon. The old tree had seen its share of the fight. The branch snapped, gave way, and I fell. My back struck hard against bark and limbs on the way down. One of the peach trees broke my fall and I landed on the ground with a huff.

I stayed still for a long minute and noted my injuries. I wiggled my feet, Ok, not broken. My back hurt the worst, but I could move my arms. Not paralyzed. I touched my face. The beard was gone, lost on the way down. I blinked at the tree above me. Something furry hung in its branches. Too big for a squirrel. A raccoon? A possum? I moved slowly not to frighten the animal and a soft gust of wind blew a strand of my blond hair in front of my face.

I sighed, stood on tiptoe, and snagged my wig from the branches. I hastily tucked my hair under the wig and found my cap a few feet from my landing spot. The beard was history, but at least I still wore the fuzzy mustache.

Planting the cap on my head, I removed my key from its hiding place, and dumped it from the woolen sock into my palm. I needed it now. If I found Caiyan, I’d tell him. I would show him my key and warn him not to come here.

Securing the key around my neck, a warm hug enveloped me followed by a soft glow. My key was happy to be connected once again to its owner.

A sharp crack of thunder and my outhouse appeared a short distance from me.

“Now you decide to appear?” I yelled at my vessel.

The door banged open and General Lee stumbled out.

I rushed to his side. “General Lee.”

He blinked rapidly. “What happened?”

My mouth flew open. He smelled of Mamma Bea’s moonshine lemonade. Where would my vessel have taken him? Then the obvious hit me. My outhouse went home. Like a scared rabbit, it hid in the safety of its rabbit hole, my backyard. General Lee had spent the night drinking moonshine with my cousin Darryl.

Lordy, how was I going to explain? I waved my outhouse away and prayed it would return at my summons.

“Where am I?” His words slurred slightly.

General Lee was a little tipsy—I’d use it to my advantage. “General, we’re riding to the most important battle of your life. General Pickett’s leading a charge toward the enemy’s center.”

“Pickett?” he removed his hat and scratched his head of gray hair.

“Yes sir. General Longstreet has followed your orders to attack the Federals at the copse of trees on Cemetery Ridge.”

“I can’t remember.”

“You’ve had a spell of germs and you’ve been recovering. You might be having a relapse.”

“Germs?”

“Yes, sir, do you remember who I am?”

He shook his head. “I’m the doctor who’s been taking care of you.”

“I recall the most interesting of dreams, but I do not recall riding out here.”

“You wanted to give the troops support, sir. Maybe it’s too soon.”

I spoke the magic words. Never suggest to a general that he’s weak.

General Lee squinted his eyes, determined. “I must ride to my men and give them my support.”

I remembered reading the historians believed General Lee watched the battle from Seminary Ridge. “General it would be safer for you to watch from the ridge there.” I pointed at a high area of ground.

“I should do that, yes. Where’s Traveller?” He scanned the area, stopping when he saw his trusted stallion.

The horse lifted his head high, an intelligent look in his eyes. A loyal friend to the general.

General Lee mounted Traveller. I wished him luck and raised my hand, palm up, to salute.

“I bid you thanks, Doctor. I’ll request President Jefferson to reward your valiant efforts.” He returned my salute, gathered his reins, and rode toward the thousands of men about to die fighting a losing battle.

I watched him from the woods. The soldiers cheered when they saw him. The men not yet in formation touched his boot for good luck. One of his aides rode toward him. “General, glad to see you’ve recovered.”

“Yes, it was germs that had me under.”

I smiled after him as he rode away to command his men.

A bugle played, and the men gave one last whoop. Different versions of the rebel yell echoed down the mile of soldiers, and then quiet fell over the troops as they moved forward.

I ran behind the lines of men in the direction I thought Sam would be marching. I searched, but there were so many. I wanted to shout, don’t go, but the hands of liberty covered my mouth, and the words of the Gettysburg Address kept me from it. All men are created equal. This charge must happen in order for one of the greatest leaders of our country to write the most profound speech ever spoken.

A hand clasped my shoulder. “In line soldier.”

I tried to protest but the stubborn captain ordered me forward. When I turned to run away, the soldiers behind me gave a scowl. I marched forward. The only weapon I had was the revolver tucked into my waistband.

I marched with the men, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Please let me make it long enough to find Sam. We stopped as the captains addressed their troops, giving words of encouragement. I leaned forward and looked down the line. I spotted Will. His tall frame stood above the other men. He had removed his jacket. Sam had found him. Now, I had to find Sam.

The order was given to march forward, and we moved, going only a short distance until the opposing cannons began to fire. Long rows of men jerked off their feet, writhing on the ground. The men continued to march, and more men were ordered to fill in the gaps. I marched and sidestepped until I was an arm’s length away from Will.

“Will!” I marched next to him.

“Doc, what are you doing here?”

“I’m searching for Sam. I have orders,” I tried to catch my breath. “The general is requesting both of you to his headquarters.”

“What?” Will held a hand to his ear as he continued to walk. He couldn’t hear me over the steady roar of the cannons.

We had to stop and climb over a stake and rider fence. Gunshot struck the fence and we dropped to the ground. Will pulled me up. As I turned to holler again, Will pointed to a group of men to his right. Sam tore the paper on his gunpowder and poured it into his musket, ramming the ball down deep as he prepared to shoot.

A cannon blast knocked me off my feet, and something stung my leg. Will was face down in the dirt ten feet from me. I crawled over to him and pushed him face to the sky. He blinked at me.

“I’m hit.”

I looked down at his right ankle. There wasn’t one. Blood leaked onto the dry earth. “Your leg and foot are injured.”

“Doc,” he grabbed my jacket. “Can you save my leg?”

I searched in my medial pouch for my tourniquet and tightened it around his left leg, just under the knee. “Stay on the ground, the medics will help you to the hospital.”

“Doc, you got to save Sam. He’s—”

“Stay down. I’ll find Sam.” Hunched over, I moved toward Sam, then decided hunching wouldn’t spare me—I was still an enemy target. The pain in my leg ached, but I didn’t have time to see what bit me. I could run, and that was all that mattered. I ran as fast as I could across the field.

As I closed in on Sam, he kicked backward, falling to the ground.

“NO!” My words were lost in a barrage of cannonade. My hat was shot off my head as I wove my way through the men to him.

I dropped to his side.

A bullet had grazed his temple and blood ran into his eyes.

“Are you an angel?” He wiped at his eyes.

A strand of blond hair covered my face. I pushed it aside. Damn. My wig went with the hat. Long, blond tresses of my hair whipped in the summer breeze with the sun beating down behind me. My shadow fell across Sam’s face. I guessed I did look a bit angelic to him.

“I’m going to help you.” As I leaned over him, a pink flower petal from the peach tree floated down from my hair and landed on his cheek. He smiled. “I was brave.”

Blood seeped through his shirt over his left abdominal area. I untucked his shirt from his waistband and found the remnants of the pocket watch I had given him. A small round ball stuck to its mechanical guts. The impact of the bullet against the shattered gold metal had cut into his side. I patched him up with cloth from my medical kit.

“My vision is blurry,” he said. “Did them Yankees get me in the head?”

“Your head’s rock hard.” By the way his head hit hard against the ground, he had a concussion and shock, most likely. “C’mon soldier. We’re getting the hell out of Dodge.”

He stood and we made our way in the opposite direction.

“I wanted to reach the wall.”

I looked out across the battlefield. Hundreds of men lay dead and wounded. “You got farther than most, I reckon.”

I deposited Sam under an oak tree far away from the battle. I gave him a drink from my canteen, and I instructed two men with a stretcher to carry Will from the battlefield. General Lee’s orders, I spoke harshly to the men, but there were so many wounded who needed tending.

Sam shut his eyes. I waited until the men had Will securely on the stretcher and watched them double step toward the closest hospital. They might take his leg, but Ida Belle would get her wedding.

“Are you going to be OK?” I asked Sam. “No more fighting.”

His light eyelashes fluttered open and he gazed at me with his serene blue eyes. “You’re a good angel, but I ain’t ready to go with you, yet.”

Yep, not for almost ninety years. His eyes shut for a minute and a pretty vivandière knelt next to us and wiped the blood from his face.

“You take care, Sam.” I rose to leave and he grabbed my wrist.

“Doc, the box?”

I wasn’t sure if he realized I was the angel or if he thought I’d arrived later. Mamma Bea’s voice reciting the bible verse the truth shall set you free rang loud above the deafening sounds of battle.

“Sam. I’m from the future. General Lee is back in the saddle, running the show. I was sent here to make sure you have a long and happy life.”

He smiled. “Will I get to know a woman, and see the most beautiful thing on Earth?”

The vivandière blushed beside me.

“Yes, Sam, you will,” I said, mentally apologizing to Keanu Reeves for hijacking his words.

“Thanks, Doc.”

I left Sam in the hands of a the pretty vivandière, who assured me she would see him to a medic. I had to get back to Lee’s headquarters before they figured out Lee was in two places at the same time.

A riderless horse ran past me, skittish from the roar of the cannons. I limped toward it. My leg ached, but only a trickle of blood stained my shoe. The horse calmed when it reached a thicket. I commandeered the horse and rode toward the Thompson farm.

Lee would return to his camp on the farm grounds immediately following the battle. I had to get Marco and Gertie, and we had to find the seer. Ace told me he arrested Caiyan near the Thompson farm, maybe they were close.

My time was running thin and when I returned home and saw Caiyan again, I was going to kill him. My heart took a jump at my thoughts. He might already be dead.

Nope, not going to think about it. I pushed my ride harder.

My wig was in the dust, and my mustache hung on by a sticky hair. I yanked it off and tossed it in the breeze. No more hiding. If the brigands wanted a battle, they’d have to fight Jennifer Cloud.