Perry's heart sank as he continued, "Don't know as it would do any good to try and push him. Might end your friend's sufferin' earlier. Besides, the redheaded bastard hates Yankees. He took great delight in tellin' me where to go for just suggestin' he leave his men and come doctor one of us."
Perry's heart quickened for a moment. The doctor was redheaded. Could her brother be the Confederate doctor Luke had talked with? She hadn't seen Andrew for so long, but she'd heard he was near. Could he be this close?
"Sorry about him, boy." Luke shook his head and moved away.
Perry stepped forward, timidly reaching to touch Luke's arm. "Did ya get the doctor's name, sir?"
"Nope, didn't see it mattered none, anyway," Luke replied with a wave of his mighty hand.
As soon as Luke was out of sight, Perry turned to Abram, her face filled with hope. "I may know the doctor. Abram, he'd come if he knew I was here. You've got to get to him and ask him to help." Perry realized how desperate she sounded to this huge black man. All Perry knew of Abram was that he called Hunter his friend. Her only prayer lay in a hope that he cared a great deal about Hunter's life.
Abram backed off, skeptical of her plot. "First I need a few answers before I get in league with the likes of you. You're no boy, but I guess I can understand why you'd want to hide that. Also, your speech goes from being illiterate to refined. You give me some answers and I'll decide whether to trust you."
Perry plopped in an unladylike manner beside Hunter's sleeping form and waited for Abram to join her. She had no choice but to trust Abram. He knew too much already, so why not?
Softly she began her story of the past three days. She described to him how she had burned her fields to keep the Yankees from getting her crops. In so doing, she'd marked herself for hanging as a traitor. When she told of walking for a day and night before finding the barn and discovering Hunter, Perry omitted Noma from her story. She might have to trust this man, but Noma could remain unknown. In this small way Perry felt she was protecting Noma. She ended by telling him the redheaded doctor might be her brother, Andrew.
Unshed tears floated in her brown eyes as she whispered, "You have to swear to tell no one who I am or that I'm a woman. If the doctor is Andrew, I know he'll come when he finds out I'm here."
Both were silent for several minutes before Abram spoke. "I'll keep your secret. Don't want to do you any more harm than this war has already done you. Appears to me you're in need of a friend, and I do owe you something. But for God's sake, don't go jumping on anyone else; one feel of you gives you away as a girl."
Perry blushed as Abram continued. "I'll go have a talk with the doctor, and if he's your brother, maybe I can convince him to take a look at Hunter." With this resolution Abram stood and dusted his blue uniform. "Don't know what Captain Williams would have to say about this if he got wind of it.''
Perry's heart turned to ice inside her breast. "Captain Williams?"
Abram nodded. "He's the officer here, though he spends most of his time chasing traitors." His last words were a whisper as he looked into Perry's frightened face. "He's the one after you, isn't he?"
There was no need for Perry to answer. Abram was making a statement, not asking a question.
"Stay with Hunter, boy." Again he placed the emphasis on the word boy. "We'll see about Hunter, then worry about getting you out of this place fast. I don't want to think what Captain Williams would do if he caught you here." Abram walked away, shaking his head.
Perry tried to curl into the darkness behind Hunter. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to run. Somehow she'd walked right into Williams's hands. He'd never seen her, and she wasn't sure she'd know him if he walked up. All she knew about him was from what she'd heard, and it was all bad. She'd been told he was handsome enough, except for a small scar over one eye and a love for hanging Southerners.
The evening grew cooler as the hours passed. She spread out on the ground a foot from Hunter, longing for the privacy they'd had in the loft. Tired and frightened, she longed to move nearer and feel Hunter's touch along her flesh. As her eyelids grew heavy, Perry placed a protective arm over Hunter's undamaged shoulder.
Finally sleep covered her, and she became oblivious to everything around her. She no longer heard the moans of the wounded or the soft hoof falls of horses against the muddy ground as the camp's officers arrived.
Chapter 3
Fires were burning low, in need of tending, as Perry snuggled deep into her blanket. Voices mumbled softly in the darkness, drawing her from sleep. Opening her eyes slowly, she saw three blurred figures standing above her. One she recognized as Abram's dark bulk. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that the second figure was a Union officer, impeccably dressed in his blue uniform. The officer shouted at Abram while a third man waited a few feet away. He was a shabbily dressed Confederate soldier, clutching a worn bag under his arm. As he turned toward her Perry caught her breath in sudden recognition of her brother, Andrew.
He seemed much older and thinner than he'd been a year ago. His hair was unkempt and badly in need of trimming. A dark red mass of beard covered his face. Her first instinct was to leap up and run into his arms, but before she could respond, he moved the short distance between them and gripped her shoulder.
In a demanding and authoritative voice he asked, "Are you the boy who found this wounded man?"
Her senses jumped alive both at Andrew's question and from the pain of his hand digging into her shoulder. Did he still think her a child to be reminded of the danger she faced?
Fighting for control, she pierced the darkness to see his face. The warm and loving eyes of her older brother pleaded with her to remain silent. Her anger cooled. His eyes looked so tired. The war had destroyed the hopes and dreams of a young man. He'd had only enough time for school before the war. The once bright spark within him had faded to dull shades of indifferent gray. Andrew's soul was as ragged and muted as his clothes.
Not trusting her voice, Perry nodded her head in answer to his question. He relaxed his grip on her shoulder. She stood slowly, pulling her hat low to hide any loose strands of hair and let her shoulders slouch to ensure that the baggy clothes concealed her breasts. The officer's hand unconsciously traveled to his holstered gun handle in a silent reminder to both Andrew and Perry. She watched him with growing fear. He was a handsome man, but there was something cold, even heartless, about him. Then she saw it: the scar over his left eye. Terror gripped her. The officer not three feet from her was Captain Wade Williams.
He knelt beside Hunter. "If this is Captain Kirkland, we'd better get him fixed up fast or Professor Lowe will see there's hell to pay." He jerked away Hunter's blanket and tried to force his face toward the campfire light.
Wade's voice was cold and aloof as he stood, not bothering to replace the blanket over Hunter. As if Andrew were deaf, the officer said, "Abram, tell the doctor I agree to provide extra supplies to the prisoners in exchange. I want no part in this directly. It's your idea to have this so-called doctor help Hunter. If Hunter dies, I'll see the authorities are informed of your plan. If he lives, I want no one in camp to know we made a deal with the filthy likes of this Confederate."
Perry's hands balled into fists within the folds of her pockets. How could Andrew allow this man to talk to him so degradingly? She glanced at her brother and realized he had no choice. What could be gained by a fight here and now? She vowed to live in order to repay Wade Williams's insult.
Abram spat his reply out, as though even he found talking with the officer distasteful. "I understand, Captain Williams. I've always understood you."
She found his reply much to Abram's credit. She both liked and trusted this huge mountain of a man and wondered what Hunter must be like to have such a man as Abram for a friend. An educated black man was a rare individual. His voice as well as his proud postures told all that he considered himself an equal.