recently driven them back towards Washington. Further south though, Union General Grant had successfully invaded Tennessee in the Battle of Shiloh the previous spring, and now there were rumors that his comrade General Sherman had set his sights on Atlanta, the heart of the south. Although close in proximity to DC, where Union forces were regrouping from a serious of brutal defeats, Richmond, Virginia, the Capital of the Confederacy, seemed to be safe for at least the time being as rebel General Robert E. Lee had successfully forced Union troops out of Virginia on his way up to Pennsylvania.

The ever-present fear of invasion had meant life on the outskirts of Richmond had been almost quiet for some time now, so it was an unfamiliar sight to see the young man in tattered confederate gray come racing down the dirt road on his sweat-soaked mount. The gelding's heavy footfalls could be heard clearly over the growing rumble of thunder. Townspeople opened their doors to see what was going on as the bay skidded to a halt outside of the small inn, his heavy head hung low. His rider, equally disheveled, slid to the ground and almost fell. An elderly man, who was exiting the tavern, stopped to help the distressed stranger, and slid a weathered arm around the soldier's shoulders, helping him into the cozy tavern.




"But she's a pretty girl, and pretty girls dont go for guys that look like me." The young man drawled over his jug. "And now with this bum knee I can't walk without a hitch in my stride, why would she take a second look in my direction?" Elizabeth picked up his glass and smiled at him. Justin was a great looking guy, and sadly, one of the few young men left in town. Elizabeth had seen the way he and the object of his affection looked at eachother, and knew that the young man was just scared to talk to the young lady, so he made up excuses why she would turn him down if he did ever try.

"Justin, you listen to me." Elizabeth told the young man with a pointed gaze. "Ella Mae likes you, and a bum knee isnt gonna change that. Try giving her flowers, or even just payin attention to her. You'd be surprised." As Elizabeth placed the empty pint glass into the rinse bucket, her little brother came rushing into the room, breathless.

"Hey Justin, you heard any news from the front?" the little boy chirped as Elizabeth grabbed for his collar. The boy skirted out of her reach though, and climbed up on a seat next to Justin.

"My brother wrote me and told me all about Chancellorsville." Justin piped up, to Elizabeth's dismay. "He said that Lee split the army into three groups, and they attacked Hooker from different directions!" The little boy sat in awe until Elizabeth spoke up.

"Thats enough there you two. Matthew, you have work to do! Go wipe down those tables, and then go feed the animals in the barn. I dont wanna see you again until thats all done!" She snapped, mildly irritated at the unwelcome reminder of the war that was creeping closer and closer to their backyards.

"But Buffy!" Matthew whined, ready to plead his case until she snapped the towel in his direction. Needing no further encouragement, the boy hopped off the barstool and scampered off to do his chores. Elizabeth watched after him for a second, and then turned towards Justin.

"You too!" she snapped."You've had enough to drink for today, so I suggest you move on out."

"But Buffy" he pretended to plead.

"You, dont you ever call me that, or I will tell Ella Mae all about that time you put red ants down the back of her dress!" Elizabeth threatened, holding the dishrag like a weapon. The young man immediately backed down.

"Come on Elizabeth, that was years ago!" Justin stammered, grabbing for his cap.

"Trust me, she hasnt forgotten!" Elizabeth retorted, shooing the younger man out the door while reaching for some empty glasses. She immediately regretted kicking Matthew and Justin out though as she realized she was now alone. The once busy tavern had been quiet since the war began, and Elizabeth missed the cozy warmth that had once flooded the place. Soon, she thought to herself. Soon the war will be over and everyone will come home. Humming to herself, she set to straightening up when the door burst open.

"He needs help!" called James Danner, the elderly man who lived next door. "He just dismounted, and then passed out." Danner had his arm wrapped around the waist of an unfamiliar blonde soldier, who was hunched over in a barely conscious state.

"Matthew!" Elizabeth yelled out the open door of the tavern, while reaching for some clean cloths and placing a pot of water over the fire. Matthew dashed into the room, and skidded to a stop at the sight of the stranger. "Don't just stand there, help Mr. Danner get him in back. Set him up in Steven's bed. Then go get Father from blacksmith's, and see if you cant find Doc Cooper too." Before she even finished her sentence, the young boy was helping Danner get the young man in back. When the water was warm, Buffy grabbed some bandages, the water, and a lantern, and went in back to where the young man now laid as still as death.

"His horse is out front, looks like he's blown. He dismounted and just fell, he just...he's hurt bad I reckon" The old man stammered, his eyes widening as Elizabeth unbuttoned the young man's jacket exposing a nasty wound. Recognizing that, in order to help the young man, she would have to stretch the rules of propriety and strip the young man nearly naked, Elizabeth turned to Mr. Danner.

"You know much more about horses than I Mr. Danner. Is there any way you can take his mount into our barn and look after him for tonight? Doc Cooper will be here soon with Matthew and Father, and I'm afraid the poor animal will be forgotten about. I just wouldn't know what to do to help that poor creature." Buffy drawled, trying her best to look helpless. Mr. Danner's eyes lit up.

"Well, them animals need special treatment, ya know. Those war horses get fed special stuff, I'll see if the missus can't help me mix up some of that mash. I'll rub down his legs real careful-like. You don't worry your pretty lil head, we'll get this taken care of. I'll do it all myself." With that, the old man tottered out. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and pulled back the confederate jacket to expose the young man's chest wound. She was thankful he was unconscious, because the moment that she opened his shirt, she recognized the signs of infection. She hissed out loud at the sight of the angry red flesh.

"That must hurt like hell" she whispered, looking closely at the wound.

"Trust me, it does" Came the raspy response.

Elizabeth jumped, startled that the man was now conscious. Her green eyes met blue ones, and Elizabeth looked at the man's face for the first time. He was clearly tired and probably hadnt had a real meal in months, but she couldn't help but notice his natural beauty. High cheekbones angled down into soft full lips, while a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes gave him a look of stubborn intensity that Elizabeth found almost frighteningly alluring. His curly blonde hair, once brown, had been bleached in the sun, and hung down on his forehead, damp with sweat. Remembering herself, Elizabeth spoke up.

"I'll be able to clean it, but the only thing I have for the pain is a bit of whisky." She explained, turning her attention back to the wound. The young man laughed weakly, his abdominal muscles rippling over his stomach and tensing under her gentle touch.

"You're an angel, I knew it" He said quietly. "I havent had whisky in ages."

"Then you'll get through this just fine" Elizabeth said, pouring him a shot. "Drink." She said curtly, inwardly wincing at how harsh she had sounded. The man had caught her off guard, and she didn't like the feeling.

"Aren't you gonna ask me how I got it?" The man asked, after downing the shot without any change in expression. Elizabeth, now settling into the routine of nurse, dipped the cloth in some warm water, and began to clean the wound. There was something strange about his voice. He had a slight southern drawl, but there was something else, she couldnt quite place it. His accent wasn't strong enough for Georgia or Kentucky, but sounded foreign to Virginia or North Carolina. Something about her didn't quite trust this stranger...

"No, I figured you would tell me if you wanted me to know." She said, her voice clipped. The young man gasped when the cloth touched the raw wound, but to his credit, he made no further sound. Feeling guilty for being so suspicious when the man was clearly in pain, Elizabeth decided to try a different approach. "What happened?" She asked softly, now trying to be more gentle as she examined the infected area. She found it was much easier to be civil to him when she didn't have to look him in the eye.

The young man gave a short pained laugh. "Came across some Union spies, scouting out routes for a possible advance upon Richmond. I'm the only one who walked away." Elizabeth sat back, and took the risk of looking at his face again. Although his jaw was flexed and his chin proudly raised, Elizabeth saw a fleeting moment of fear, and sorrow in the man's clear blue eyes. As soon as she saw it though, it was gone, and his gaze became cool once more. For a moment, she saw her brother Daniel in the stranger. Daniel could be lying in someone else's bed right now, injured and alone, and here she was being distrustful of one of her own kind. Feeling uncomfortable, Elizabeth paused for a moment, and then returned her attention to his wound.

"It must be thoroughly cleaned and stitched. The Doctor should be here soon. If I were you, I'd drink some more of this" she said, pouring him another glass. "We haven't seen much of the war here. I've heard about it though, and I don't envy you. I cant imagine what it feels like, going out there with no idea whether you'll ever return." She wrung out the towel nervously, and rinsed it again. "The irony is, we went to war to try to preserve our way of life, but now that the war has come to our own backyards, our lives won't ever be the same." When she looked up, the young man had a faraway look in his eyes. "Sir?" She said softly, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Please, its William." He said softly.

"Well, William, why dont you lie back now, and try to relax." She stood and gathered the towels and bucket, now soiled with his blood. Before stepping out of the room though she paused, and looked back at his pale form. "I'm Elizabeth." She nodded, and then walked back into the tavern.


She had just picked up fresh water and bandages when the door burst open. Matthew bounded in, followed by her father. "Doc couldn't come. How bad is he?" Her father asked gruffly, setting his cap on the table.

"He's alright. He needs to be stitched up, but I can handle that." She said, handing her father one of the damp cloths. As he wiped his forehead off, he smiled at his daughter. "But with such a pretty nurse, he'll have to be careful not to fall in love with you.

"Well, I can tell ya he is goin to hate me in a few minutes when I get done fixin him up. Can you help me?" She asked her father, who nodded, and wiped off his hands. When she went to return to the room, Matthew was close at her heels. "Not you little man, I need you to go out and make sure his horse is all settled in the barn." The boy opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it when Elizabeth pointed forcefully at the door.

"Fine!" He shouted, and then stomped out the door. Behind her, her father chuckled.

"Come on Buffy, you didn't need to send him outside" He said, taking the pail of water from her. "He's seen blood before."

"Animal blood. He doesn't need to see this, not yet. He's just a boy." She said, turning to face her father.

"Elizabeth, you know that boys his age area already training with their muskets, ready to go to fight as soon as they are strong enough to carry their own packs."

"Damn it Pa, I dont care if boys his age are going off to war, he isnt!" She said, her small hands fisting.

"Thats not your decision to make, my girl." He father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I see that man lying in there, and can't help thinking of Daniel. Its bad enough that that could be him lying in there, but not Matthew. I couldn't sleep knowing that my baby brother could be lying somewhere, hurt and scared." For a moment, Mr. Summers saw the burden that his only daughter was carrying, saw how her fear for her brothers weighed on her mind. Elizabeth quickly blinked, and he saw the steely resolve appear once more. "Now lets get this over with." She said, gritting her teeth.

For a moment, Elizabeth thought William had fallen asleep. As soon as she knelt by his side though, those blue eyes opened and locked on hers.

"I s'pose its time then." He said, letting out a deep breath. Elizabeth nodded, and then looked at her father. Familiar with the routine, Mr. Summers moved to the man's other side, and took off his belt. He handed the leather strap to William, who put the strap between his teeth and looked to the ceiling. As soon as her father had taken a hold of the man's shoulder, Elizabeth picked up a metal poker from the fire and cauterized the wound. Although she knew the burn had to be excruciating, the only sign that William had felt any pain was the tensing of his muscles and the sharp intake of air. It wasn't until she inserted the needle to begin the first stitch that the young man groaned.

Twenty-five stitches later, Elizabeth was finished, and William had passed out from the pain. Her father helped her bandage him up, and then they left him to return to the front room. While her father went out to see what was keeping Matthew, Elizabeth walked to the bar, picked up a bottle of rum, and took a good long swig.

One week later, Elizabeth entered William's room to find him sitting up in bed, stretching out his arm. "What do you think you are doing?" She said, setting down the tray of food and hurrying to his side. "You might pull out your stitches that way." She chastized, kneeling at his side to examine the dressings.

"M'sorry, my shoulder was just starting to get awfully stiff." William explained apologetically, and Elizabeth instantly felt guilty.

"Here" she said softly, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. "Lets check the dressing." She helped him pull off his shirt, and then removed the bandages that covered his healing wound. To her surprise, the redness was gone, and the injury appeared to be almost healed. Now that the gash was healing, Elizabeth couldnt help but notice the man's strong, broad chest. Although in her experiences aiding Doc Conner she had seen many a man without a shirt on, the "men" had been farm hands, built for heavy work. William's slim build and defined musculature reminded her of a wildcat, sleek but deadly. Shaking her head, Elizabeth removed the rest of the dressing. Mistaking her admiration for concern, William looked down and examined the stitches. "Does it look any better?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes, much" she stammered out, busying herself with unfolding fresh bandages.

"I'm a fast healer" William shrugged, grinning at Elizabeth, who couldnt help but nod in agreement. After resetting the bandage, and helping William put his shirt back on, Elizabeth helped the young man stand up shakily. When his balance wavered, Elizabeth latched ahold of his arm to steady him.

"Easy there, take your time. You're still weak" she said, grabbing his upper arm. She nearly blushed when the muscles on his arms flexed, belying the easy power beneath. Or maybe not, she thought to herself.

"Well look whos up" her father bellowed from the doorway. Elizabeth quickly released William's arm, and stepped back uncertainly. "If you're feeling up to it William, I'd like you to take a walk with me, there is something I would like to show you." At her father's suggestion, Elizabeth stepped forward hesitantly.

"Pa, William wouldn't-"

"William would love to. Mr. Summers, lead the way" William bowed gallantly, sweeping his arm out in a graceful arc. Elizabeth, shocked that she had been contradicted, spun on her heel and walked out the back.

"Watch out for that one, my boy. She may be pretty, but she can be meaner than a wildcat when cornered." Mr. Summers laughed, and led the young man out towards the barn.

***

"Of all the frustrating, ungrateful..." Elizabeth stopped her rant quickly when she saw Matthew sitting quietly on a rock near the river. She walked slowly towards him, but he didnt turn around.

"Do you think Daniel will ever come home?" He asked while still facing the river, his boyish voice sounding flat and tired, so unlike the carefree child Elizabeth knew. She pasted a smile on her face, and walked up to stand beside him.

"Of course he-" she started, but then hesitated. The twelve-year-old standing next to her, as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, was not a child, not anymore. There were boys his age off at war, and no matter how hard she tried, Elizabeth would not be able to shield him from everything that life would throw in their direction. Feeling defeated, she sat down heavily on the rock next to him. "I don't know Matty, I sure hope so."

"Me too" came the quiet reply. As Elizabeth watched, Matthew leaned down, and picked up a small stone. He examined it carefully, and then flung it violently. Instead of skipping gracefully, the rock splashed loudly and disappeared from sight. Elizabeth, seeing Matthew's shoulders sag, stood up quickly.

"I think Raven and Duchess need to stretch their legs a bit. Will you join me in taking the girls for a quick gallop before afternoon chores?" At Elizabeth's suggestion, Matthew jumped to his feet.

"Last one to the barn has to clean the cow shed!" He yelled over his shoulder, sprinting off. Elizabeth just shook her head and followed. Obviously he wasn't growing up *that* fast. "You little cheat!" She yelled, gathering her skirts and taking off after him.

When she reached the barn, Matthew was already inside, bridling up Duchess. Elizabeth opened the door to Raven's stall, and approached the young mare, who stretched out her nose in greeting.

"Hi there beautiful" Elizabeth patted the mare fondly, but then gasped when she saw the mud caked on the animal's neck. "I swear..."

"You better not!" Came her father's voice from outside the stall door. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth turned around to greet the two men.

"Sorry Pa, I didn't hear ya'll come in." She said, shrugging meekly. "Matthew and I were just goin to go for a short ride, he needed to get out. Did you need the horses?" She asked, stepping outside of the stall.

"Thats all right m'girl" Her father shrugged. "William and I are just passing through." Her father turned, and approached a barrel that was sitting off to the side of the aisle of the barn. When he tipped the barrel over and knelt to pick up something lying beneath it, Elizabeth hurredly stepped out from the stall and pulled the door shut. She quickly knelt alongside her father, placing a hand over his.

"Pa, I dont think thats a good idea." She said, her voice hushed.

"Nonsense Buffy, I think he can put some of it to good use." Her father said, speaking at a normal volume. Undeterred, Elizabeth continued on. William's brow rose in curiosity.

"Father, no one should know. Its better for you if-" She whispered angrily, but her father cut her off when he took his hand out from under hers, displaying the key to William.

"William, I have something to show you" He said brusquely, effectively silencing her. Elizabeth stood rail-straight, blushing furiously. Taking the key, he strode to a storage room at the back of the barn. As Elizabeth and William watched, he unlocked the door and slid it open, revealing haybales stacked eight high. "Elizabeth!" her father barked at her. Still embarassed, Elizabeth wordlessly approached. Together, she and her father pulled down the top several bales, exposing space behind. At Mr. Summer's motion, William slowly walked up and peered around the corner. Behind the initial stack of bales were boxes of rifles, stacked ten deep. In one corner, boxes of ammunition lay half-covered with a sackcloth. In more boxes, knives, swords, and food supplies were visable. William, eyes wide, turned to Mr. Summer's in awe.

"Where did all of this come from?" He asked incredulously.

"Here and there. A lot of it was taken during raids of Union camps north of here. Some of it was brought up from the peninsula, but most of it was smuggled down the river. Since we lost a lot of our sea ports, we have to take our supplies inland. This, this and more will be sent to Richmond, to be ready when Lee gives the order to march on Washington. I have two more hiding places on the property, all stocked like this one."

"Really?" William asked, "where do you hide it?"

"I'll show you, this way." Mr. Summers said, beginning to stack the bales back up.

"Papa, I-" Elizabeth tried to caution her father.

"Elizabeth, weren't you taking your brother riding?" Her father asked pointedly.

"Yes Papa" Elizabeth responded dejectedly, and turned back towards the stall. William, who stood partially blocking her route, made no effort to move. Frustrated, Elizabeth gritted her teeth and tried to skirt around him, but stopped short when William slowly reached his arm across her path. Pulling one of the horses' grooming brushes off of the wall, he handed it to her.

"You might be needin this" He drawled softly, placed the object in her hand, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

"Thanks" Elizabeth practically spat, taking the brush and quickly let herself back into Raven's stall.

Once the voices receeded, and Elizabeth had worked out the frustration that those cool blue eyes incited in her, she lifted the saddle onto Raven's back, tightened the girth, and then reached for the bridle. Within moments, she had led the skittering mare outside, and met up with Matthew, who was already mounted on Duchess.

"Take all the time you need" the boy said sarcastically as Elizabeth swung up onto the saddle.

"Thank you" Elizabeth retorted, and swung Raven away from the barn. "Now do try to keep up" she said over her shoulder as she wheeled Raven into a brisk trot. With Duchess following, Elizabeth followed the path past the lean-to that served as their cow shed, and then followed the tree line towards the gate, where William and her father were now walking. As they approached, William began unfastening the tie that held the gate shut. Still peeved though, Elizabeth quickly nudged Raven into a canter, then slid forward along the horse's neck, asking for more speed. When Raven willingly obliged, Elizabeth angled the dark bay towards a break in the treeline, to the right of the gate that William was now opening. Effortlessly, Raven soared over the fence. Landing on the other side, Elizabeth expertly pulled the excited horse up, and waited for Matthew to pass through the gate. Although William dipped his head in farewell, Elizabeth swung Raven back around, and took off down the road, Matthew in tow.

"She's quite the horsewoman, my Buffy is. Just like her mother, God rest her soul. Though I try as hard as I can, I swear, that girl will never be tamed." Mr. Summers sighed, and then turned towards the shed that stood at the edge of the field. William hesitated a moment though, and stared down the road the two horses had taken. He watched the dust swirl in the muggy July air for a moment longer, and then, with a deep breath, turned to follow Mr. Summers.

That night, at dinner, Elizabeth was silent. She knew that she was being unfriendly towards the stranger when he had done nothing to instigate her anger or distrust, but her father's rebuke had hurt her all the same. While Matthew chatted animatedly with William, who did his best to answer the boy's rapid-fire questions about the war, Elizabeth gathered the dirty dishes and carried them into the kitchen. After dropping them them into the sink, Elizabeth dried her hands on her apron, and then slipped out the back door.

Walking slowly through the warm summer night, Elizabeth sat on the rock behind their tavern, and gazed out over the James river. In the quiet of the darkness, she took a deep breath and tried to imagine what her life would have been like had the south not seceded, had the North not attacked. When the first shots were fired at Fort Sumpter two years before, Elizabeth was not even seventeen yet. Here she was,now nineteen, and little had changed. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that hid just below the surface.

When a rough hand softly grasped her shoulder, Elizabeth turned to see her father standing beside her.

"I know this isn't what you wanted, Elizabeth. It isn't what I wanted for you either." He said slowly.

"But Papa, I'm fine really." Elizabeth tried to paste a smile on her face, but tonight, it just wouldn't come.

"No, you're not." Her father said sadly. "If your mother were still here, if the war hadnt started...but it did. We all make sacrfices, but you, you carry so much on those shoulders of yours." He sat beside her, and slid an arm around her. "She'd be so proud of you right now."

"Oh Daddy," Elizabeth said, leaning her head on her father's shoulder as the tears she'd fought so hard slowly slid down her cheeks.

"Look at you" Hank Summers said, sitting back from his daughter. With a hand on each of her arms, he turned her so that she faced him squarely. "You've been strong for all of us. I know I dont say it, but I see it." He lifted a calloused hand and brushed away the tear on her cheek. "This war is gonna end, the boys will all come home, and we'll pick right up where we left off, just you wait and see." He smiled, and hugged his daughter tightly.

"I hope so" she whispered fervently, and then brushed an arm across her tearstained cheek. As she began to stand, her father waved her off.

"I've got the dishes tonight, you take the night off." He nodded, and then stood, slowly walking back in side the house, and leaving her to her silence. After a moment, she stood, brushing off her skirts. Without turning away from the river, she spoke.

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked, before slowly turning to face the blonde man who stepped from the shadows.

"Not long. I just stepped out for a bit of air. You brother sure can talk." He mused, walking up to stand beside her. "He's too young to hear the answers to the questions he was askin though."

"I think so too, but Pa says that boys his age are off fightin, and that I gotta stop protectin' him." Elizabeth said, now looking over at William. In the faint light of the moon, the dramatic profile of his face was revealed. He looked tired though, beaten. The casual arrogance that so often graced his features was gone, and in its place, was the face of a man who had seen too much.

"Never. He needs your protection." William sighed, his shoulders drooping. "He's too innocent, too young to know what goes on out there. In the fight, you kill men that, had there been no war, could have been your friends. You march until your feet blister in the heat, and then huddle together around a dying fire to shield away the cold. If the fighting doesnt kill you, the infection might, the disease might. Everyone looks like a hero holdng a rifle and advancing into battle, but it is when they fall that you see the fear, the youth being stripped away from them as they bleed to death on a muddy battlefield." Elizabeth gazed at William in horror, but he continued. "There is nothing heroic about a soldier when he lies on the ground, crying, knowing that he'll never see home again. It is those sights that age a man. Matthew's too young for that."

"Is that what haunts you?" Elizabeth asked softly, gazing into William's troubled eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, and merely gazed back at the beautiful young woman standing before him.

"The demons I carry are far worse than that" he said, turning away from her, his voice sounding faraway. "You would be best to keep that in mind."

Elizabeth stepped back, as his demeaner suddenly turned cool. Confused at the statement that sounded more like a warning than anything else, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked back towards the tavern.

"You comin in?" She asked, pausing at the door.

"No, I'll stay out here awhile." William responded, his back to her. Shrugging, Elizabeth entered the house, leaving William alone in the darkness.

After the door was closed behind her, William approached the water. Wincing at the residual pain of his injury, he bent down and picked up a small stone. After turning it over in his hands a few times, he tossed it into the water, watching as the ripples skimmed across the surface of the river, disrupting its calm surface. As he peered out over the water, his sharp eyesight picked up movement coming downstream. His back straightening, he stood completely still, watching the shapes as they materialized in the dark. When he recognized three boats approaching the store, he stepped back from the water, glancing around hurriedly. The tavern had gone dark though, and it appeared that everyone had gone to bed.

Approaching the shore once again, William lifted his hand in greeting. From the shadows, he saw a figure in the lead boat do the same.

As the moon slipped behind a cloud, the boats made landfall behind the tavern, its occupants all soundly asleep.

"Buffy! Buffy wake up!" Matthew's frantic cries ripped Elizabeth from her sleep. As she bolted upright to find her brother standing at her bedside, the acrid smell of smoke burned her eyes and lungs and sent her into a fit of coughing. Grabbing Matthew's arm, she stumbled to her feet, and dashed for the door. When she grabbed the latch though, the burning hot metal seared her palm, blistering her skin and causing her to scream in pain. She clutched her injured hand to her chest, and turned to face her little brother, whose face was white with fear. Desperately trying to remain calm, Elizabeth took his hand with her good hand, and pulled him close. When flames began to lick beneath the door, Elizabeth pushed Matthew away from the flames and towards the window on the far side of the room. Together, they dashed for the back window.

Elizabeth lifted the latch and then grabbed the base of the pane with both her hands, closing her eyes against the burning pain in her injured hand, and then opened the window. She pushed Matthew onto an oak chest, and waited while he climbed up and then slid out. Following closely, she pulled herself up onto the window ledge. She flung herself out, just as the fire caught her bedlinens and quickly engulfed the room in which she had lain only moments before. Lying on the damp, rocky ground and shaking her head to clear the haze from her mind, Elizabeth reached for Matthew, who was already climbing to his feet.

"Pa!" He yelled, sprinting around to the other side of the burning tavern. Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, and quickly took off running after him. She rounded the corner, praying that she would find her father waiting for her, safe and sound. What she saw on the other side though, stopped her short and caused her blood to run cold.

Her father was on his knees, head bowed, with a musket pressed against his temple. At his back stood two men, dressed in tell-tale blue. Next to them, two more soldiers struggled to hold a furious Matthew, who was trying to bite and claw his way free. Elizabeth skidded to a stop, her hand covering her mouth. Her first instinct was to shut her eyes tightly and pray that this was nothing more than a nightmare. Too frightened to look away though, Elizabeth only stared on in horror.

"Run Elizabeth!" He father yelled, suddenly noticing her standing there. In a quick and vicious response, one of the men holding him kicked him, knocking him helplessly onto his side. Although concern for her father nearly overwhelmed her, Elizabeth's brain told her to run for help. Before she could move though, she was grabbed from behind. Strong fingers bit into the side of her arm, effectively holding her in place.

"I don't advise that" came a low voice from behind her. Elizabeth slowly turned to meet William's cold blue gaze. Her eyes quickly dropped to his coat, which had been exchanged for his jacket, which now identified him as a Union officer. Even in those few words, the drawl was gone, replaced by a crisp northern accent, laced with hints of English. Rage overcoming her astonishment at the transformation, Elizabeth lashed out, clawing at his face.

"You bastard!" She screamed, her nails raking down the side of his neck. Struggling to maintain his hold on the hellcat that had now turned her full ire on him, William stumbled backwards a few steps, but did not release her.

"Hold still! Damn you woman, don't make me hurt you!" He yelled, twisting her arm so that Elizabeth had to twist with it. With one arm pinned behind her, William pulled her so that her back was flush with his chest. Incensed, Elizabeth slammed her head back into William's jaw so that tears blinded his eyes. He tightened his grip on her arm, and tilted his head, so that his face was no longer in her reach. "I suggest we move away from the building, unless you prefer to catch fire." He ground out between his clenched teeth, half-dragging her to where the other men stood. As he approached, two more soldiers stepped forward and took Elizabeth's arm, forcing her to her knees beside her brother. She remained there, tears burning her eyes in embarassment and rage. Next to her, her brother still fought his captors furiously, crying almost hysterically. Despite his fury, he was no more than a scared child and Elizabeth longed to be able to protect him. Before her, her father sat on his knees, blood trickling from the wound on his temple, his head bowed in defeat, with the muzzle still against his skull.

William strode forward to where Mr. Summers sat, completely powerless. Over the roar of the fire which had now engulfed the tavern that had been the Summers family home for decades, William spoke.

"Henry Summers, you are hereby charged with High Treason against the United States of America." Standing to his full height, William continued. The man standing before Elizabeth had changed from the wounded individual that she had cared for, into something else, something much more imposing, something much more cold. His voice completely void of emotion, William continued on. "You have smuggled stolen weaponry, property of the federal government, and illegally transported it to enemy lines. As an active member of the Confederacy, against whom war has been declared, you are a prisoner of war, and thus are not entitled to trial. With the witnesses now present, you are sentenced to death for your crimes, and are to be executed immediately."

"Nooo!" Elizabeth shrieked, straining against her captor, hot tears streaking down her cheeks. As she watched in horror, her father's captor placed his finger over the trigger of the musket, and pulled. With a loud crack, the gun fired, and Hank Summers pitched forward, dead before his body hit the ground. Her strength left her as Elizabeth sagged towards the ground, gut-wrench sobs wracking her thin body. Next to her, Matthew screamed and wrestled free of his captors.

Bolting upright, Elizabeth tried to call to her younger brother, but no sound came out of her throat. Instead, she looked on, the terror gripping her body and making it seem to her as if things were happening in slow motion. Matthew threw himself at one of the two soldiers who had been holding their father, catching him off-guard. As the man fell backwards, he yanked the knife at his belt and plunged upwards. When they hit the ground, both bodies were completely still for a moment, as the two adversaries, one a seasoned soldier, the other, a boy of only twelve, stared at eachother. Slowly, Matthew slid off, landing on his back on the damp ground, his breath coming in short gasps, his eyes trained on the knife that stuck out of his abdomen. The next moments were a blur for Elizabeth. Although she heard men yelling and arguing, nothing registered. As she came out of her daze, she heard someone screaming, and it took her several moments to realize that that person was her. The hands holding her down released her, and, silent now, Elizabeth scrambled to her dying brother's side.

"Buffy" he whispered, struggling to speak, his eyes already beginning to glaze over.

"Shhh baby, its all right. I'm here" She soothed, running her good hand over his forehead and leaning down to kiss his face. "You're goin to be fine Matty" she said, her voice catching on the words she knew were untrue. As she watched, Matthew's lips opened and closed as he tried to speak, but no longer had breath to do so. A thin line of blood trickled from his mouth, and Elizabeth gathered her little brother into her arms, holding him tightly. "I love you Matty, please don't leave me" She cried. "Baby, fight it, please, stay with me. Stay with me!" She cried, but as she kissed his cheek, she knew he was already gone. "Oh Matthew..." she trailed off into tears. After gently closing his lifeless eyes, she let his body slowly slide to the ground. When she stood, the tears ceased, and the emotion drained from her body, leaving her cold and angry. She turned to William, unable to form the words that she wanted to say. The man who had killed her brother lie on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from the nose. William stood facing her, both hands balled up into fists, but with no expression on his face.

"Elizabeth, I didn't-" William began to speak as Elizabeth strode towards him, but was cut off as she spit at him. He stood in silence, facing the woman who had just watched her family die, with nothing to say to her.

"I wish I had let the infection take you." She said softly, her voice quiet and even. "I hope, when you leave her to return to your fighting, that you aren't killed outright. I hope you are wounded in battle, and are poisoned by the infection that takes your body. I hope you lie there, begging for death to take you from your misery. For Matthew, for Father, I hope it never comes." William remained speechless for a moment, and then turned to his men.

"Bury these two. Clear out the barn and the shed. Gather up what food you find, and take the horses. As for everything else, burn it." With that said, he turned towards the river. Before leaving though, he spun and faced the tearstained young woman, his blue eyes meeting her icy gaze.

"Bind her wrists. She's coming with us."

As the first light of dawn began to show on the horizon, the group of soldiers had completed their raid and loaded up a wagon full of the firearms and ammunition, and then harnessed the Summers'chestnut draft gelding to pull the load. Raven and Duchess were saddled up for William and his second-in-command, a second lieutenant named Bryant, and Hank's old gray gelding was being bridled hurriedly. The two men conversed in hushed tones while the others worked, eager to leave before someone from town happened upon them. The air, though still mild, was growing heavy with humidity and warning of the higher temperatures still to come. Everyone had a task. Everyone, that is, except for the pale blond who remained on her knees, her tear-streaked chin lowered in defeat.

As Elizabeth stared on in shocked silence, the only home she had ever known collapsed in on itself, sending sparks high into the morning sky. Her tears dried as a numbness settled over her as heart broke. Completely overwhelmed, she remained quiet and still, even when she was pulled to her feet and unceremoniously dumped in the wagon. Huddling next to a powder keg, Elizabeth curled up on an old horse blanket, her normally bright green eyes dulled in grief. Standing nearby, william had to tear his eyes away from the broken young woman, and focused instead on what was left to be done.

William surveyed the packing carefully. Finally satisfied that everything was taken care of, he then nodded to Bryant that the time had come to make their way towards Washington, to meet up with the rest of the federal troops, and pass along the knowledge that had been gained during their spy games throughout Central Virginia. With a sharp whistle, Bryant commanded everyone's attention, and the wagon was off and rolling. Bryant led, relying on the scouts who had left an hour earlier to find the clear path. A sergeant drove the wagon, and two corporals walked on either side, rifles casually drawn. William and Edmund, the young corporal who still wore Matthew's blood, stayed behind. William thrust Raven's reigns at the young man, who nearly shook with fear at the possible punishments that awaited him. Ignoring him, William stalked away, towards the rising mist of the river.

His long legs quickly carried him to the spot to which he wanted to return. He faced the same rock where he and Elizabeth had shared a moment of peace, the only moment of truth he had allowed himself to experience in her presence. Approaching it slowly, he sat down and gazed out over the James, whose calm waters were almost hidden beneath a blanket of mist. Turning away from the water, he allowed his eyes to settle on the two fresh graves who had been dug near the rock. When the soldiers had finally torn Elizabeth away from her brother's body, she had collapsed, unable to deal with anything further. While she had been taken to the wagon and bound, William had selected the spot that he felt she would have wanted. Having seen the venom she possessed, the lethal anger that had been aimed directly at him, he didnt want to have to face her again, and so he had buried her family with quiet respect. Weary, William let his head sink into his hands, and allowed himself a brief moment of quiet reflection.

Henry Summers had been the target all along. For some time now, Union spies had been relating information that suggested townspeople scattered from Richmond through Northern Virginia were hoarding supplies to pass along to the frontline, when the time came for a raid on Washington. During the few Union victories in the area, armories had been captured, but found to be nearly empty. There had to have been some method that the confederates were using to hide and store their supplies. What better way then to hide them in unsuspecting places, in the hands of farmers and innkeepers? While pouring over maps of the area, Union spies had pinpointed the Summers' tavern as being the most likely hiding place in the area. However, a full-scale invasion would have meant bringing a battalion over a hundred miles south into Confederate territory, within the grasp of the forces led by Robert E. Lee which were, at the time, pushing northward towards Pennsylvania. General Meade, who had only been given command several days before, was feeling trapped by the advancing southern army. He gathered his senior officers, and it was decided that a small attachment be sent south, to slip around the approaching forces, and to clear out their reserves behind them. William Chapman, the eldest son of General Joseph Winstead Chapman, was their likely choice. Within two days, William was racing Southward, clad in confederate gray and armed with fake dispatches supposedly from Brigadier General P.G.T. Beauregard, commanding officer of the western theater. On his second day of the journey, a stop for food and water had led to an ambush. William survived, killing his three attackers, but was wounded. Close enough to the tavern, William formulated a plan in his mind, and decided to test the boundaries of southern hospitality, turning an unfortunate inconvenience into a seamless cover.

To William, Hank Summers was just as much the enemy as the men he fought on the battlefield. Matthew and Elizabeth though were unfortunately casualties, or so William tried to convince himself. As his gaze settled on the grave of the twelve year old, William's blue eyes filled with burning tears. Standing up, William gathered himself and took a deep breath, allowing his steely resolve to fight down the lump that had formed in his throat. Pausing for just a moment though, William took a deep breath and reached behind his neck to grasph the chain that held a gold cross. Removing the cross, the young man knelt and placed the object on the freshly dug grave.

"Sleep well, Matthew" he whispered, emotion rendering his voice deep and nearly hoarse.

He straightened, brushed off his pants, and then walked back out to the front, where Edmund still stood the two horses. Although the grey was grazing happily, Raven was fidgeting. Without a word to the younger man, William took the young mare's reigns and tugged gently, getting her attention. He leaned forward, and blew gently on the horse's muzzle. Ceasing her stomping, Raven lowered her head, sticking her velvety nose in William's waiting hand. He stroked her face softly, and began to speak quietly.

"When we are in combat, you are allowed to use every weapon at your disposal to defend yourself, and your fellow soldiers." He continued to stroke the animal's nose, calming her. Although his tone was soothing, his words were far from. "If I ever see you use force unnecessarily again, so help me, I'll kill you myself. Am I understood?" William straightened, and looked Edmund straight in the eye. For a moment, the young man maintained eye contact, until he dropped his head shamefully.

"Yes sir" he said, his manner apologetic.

"Good. Now keep up." William said curtly, grabbing a handful of Raven's mane and swinging himself gracefully up into the saddle. Without waiting for Edmund to follow, William wheeled Raven around and galloped off, following the old dirt road that would lead them away from Richmond.

To Buffy, it felt like they had been traveling for weeks, when in fact, it had only been days. She lay on her back in the dusty wagon, staring at the sky, looking to the heavens and praying that God simply take her life. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the rough rope that bound them, and her arms had gone numb from the awkward position. Her hair, still loose around her face, now clung to her skin, damp with sweat and tears. From somewhere beyond the walls of the wagon, she heard a single voice call out, announcing their arrival at a Union encampment. Her only thought, as the wagon slowly rolled to a stop, was that her end would come quickly upon arrival at the camp that she could only assume would become her prison.

William hurriedly dismounted, handing the reigns of his tired mount off to the nearest corporal, and strode to the officer's tent, located in the middle of the encampment. Recognizing the epaulettes and shoulder straps that identified him as a Major, many men stopped as he crossed their paths and snapped off a quick salute. Barely nodding his head in response, William pressed on until he reached the entrance to the tent. Pushing the flap aside, he immediately recognized two of the four individuals who stood bent over the map.

"Ah William, my boy. Perfect timing." Said Brigidier General Forrester, a man who had served as one of William's favored instructors during his time at Westpoint, a time that now felt so much longer than the brief two years that it actually was. "Major Chapman is one of our finest." He said, introducing William by his formal title to the other officers in the room.
"William, this is Brigidier General Fitzwilliam, Colonel Markham, and of course you know Lieutenant Colonel Burbank." William saluted respectively to his senior officers, but markedly less so to the last of the men. His blue eyes met Burbank's own in a cold gaze, but the animosity was quickly shielded and William saluted. The expression had gone unnoticed to the others though, and William was quickly drawn into conversation.

"Major, it is a pleasure to meet you. I fought with your father under General Taylor over in Mexico. He's a good man, a good soldier." Stated General Fitzwilliam, a big man with a gentle countenance. He shook William's hand in friendship, and then stepped to the side to allow Willaim to see the spread of the map they had before them.

"Thank you sir, that he is." William inclined his head respectfully, and took the position that was offered him. William scanned the map briefly, noting a circle in Pennsylvania, near what appeared to be the markers that signified several large blocks that represented the battle line, between two fairly large groupings of northern and southern forces. With a raised eyebrow, he lifted his gaze to meet Forrester's tired expression.

"Gettysburg, Pennsylvania" was all he said for a moment. Reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out a cigar, a rare luxury in these camps. After lighting it and taking a long, slow drag, he continued. "Lee gave us a sound beating at Wincester" he said, pointing to the area in Virginia. He slowly traced a weathered finger upwards from Virginia into Pennsylvania. "Then he moved northwards, with Meade in tow."

"Hooker resigned his post, so George Meade took command of the Potomac" Colonel Markham explained"

"I know Meade, he's a friend of my fathers, also from the Mexican conflict. He's aggressive, but smart about it." William said, recalling the man who had steered him towards West Point in the first place. Meade had never wanted a career in the military, but it seemed to William that the intelligent engineer had always been an exemplary commander, a thought embraced by many in the Federal Army.

"Well, Meade moved his troops up in pursuit, but his cavalry came upon a confederate infantry unit, and that was when it started. Lee retreated, but only after three days of hard fighting. It was bad" There, the older general trailed off.

"How bad?" William questioned, recognizing that there must have been heavy losses at the tired edge in the man's voice.

Colonel Markham spoke up. "Just under a third, we think."

Shocked, William staggered back a bit. "But the Potomac was 90,000 strong!"

"Aye. Lee's losses were about the same. Somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 casualties. When he retreated, Meade didn't give chase. He is going to move his forces back down towards Warrenton. We can expect the wounded to begin coming in tomorrow or the next day. For the time being, I'd say things will be pretty quiet up here. Within a few weeks though, we will begin to push south. We need to reinforce the Potomac, not to mention try to keep the southern regiments at full ranks. Grant and Sherman are both on the move, and Sherman has his eyes on Atlanta. I am leaving tomorrow morning with a light cavalry, and two infantry divisions." Said Forrester, sounding resigned to the task. "General Fitzwilliam is taking several heavy artillery units a few days behind me, travelling with two more infantry units. Colonel Markham here will have command of the camp, alongside Burbank. I expect you to ready the remaining infantry. There is a fresh cavalry unit moving down from Massachucetts, and another infantry division from Maine. I want you to ready the reinforcements and then follow Markham towards Richmond. Lee won't be so foolish to move on Washington, but should he swing eastward, I expect you all to be ready to move."

"Yes sir" William repeated, saluting his father's old friend in permission to take leave of the group.

"And William?" He said, causing the young blond to halt in his tracks. "A post arrived from your father this morning. They have nearly arrived at the Tennessee-Georgia border. So far, all is well." He said, recognizing the look of immediate relief upon the young man's face.

"Thank you sir" William said, turning briskly on his heel and exiting the tent.

Before he got far though, a voice brought him to a halt. He spun to face Burbank, a shorter, stockier man who William had grown to despise.

"I'm glad to see that you've returned. I take it your mission was a successful one?" He said, his oily voice doing little to disguise his dislike of the younger man.

"Yes sir" William snapped, knowing that he would be guilty of insubordination if he reacted the way he wanted to.

"And how many of the suppliers did you discover?" He asked, condescension in his voice.

"One." The younger man ground out.

"That is all?" He said, an eyebrow raised in unhappy surprise.

"With all due respect, sir, I was too close to Richmond for comfort, and had no scouts to go before me." William said, clenching his jaw.

"And I trust he was dealt with exactly to my specification?" He said, already knowing the response at the pained expression on William's face. Lt. Col. Burbank, whose own son had attended Westpoint alongside William, had known William's fierce loyalty to justice, and had therefore known William's complete horror at the orders he had been given. Although wartime justice, which closely mirrored martial law, was in effect, he knew William was against it. William's sense of honor, which had driven him to report the indescretion of Burbank's own son to their superiors at the academy and thus had caused Burbank's own son to be permanently excused from the institution, led him to loathe the practice of the swift so-called justice. This sense of honor though, combined with the stict sense of obedience and adherence to decorum with which he had been raised, would not allow him to argue with his superior officers. Thus, Burbank knew that upon giving William Chapman the order to seek out the confederate suppliers, the young man would follow the order to the exact specification, and then hate himself afterwards for having done so.

"Yes sir" William said, his proud shoulders sinking.

"Good. You are excused" he said, smiling as William gave a hurried salute and strode off furiously in the other direction.


"Wake up girl" Elizabeth opened her bloodshot eyes, and quickly shut them against the harsh glare of the sun. A gentle hand on her shoulder brought her to a sitting position, and she felt a flask of cool water being pressed into her hand. Looking down, she nearly sickened at the sight of dried blood on her hands, her brother's blood. Her severe reaction was tempered though by her thirst, her parched throat burning. Her toungue felt swollen in her mouth, and she nearly cried as the stranger lifted the flask to pour some of the soothing water into her mouth. Before she could drink her fill though, the flask was pulled away to her dismay. When she looked at the person who had taken the water back from her, Elizabeth was shocked to see an older black woman smiling at her.

"I'm sorry Miss Elizabeth, if you drink too quickly, you'll be sick." She said softly, her sweet smile never waivering. "I'll give it back to you in a minute, just try to relax, the woman said, lifting a damp cloth to wipe off Elizabeth's dirty brow.

"Who are you?" Elizabeth said, shocked at both her own rudeness and the scratchy sound of her own voice. The old woman continued to smile though, and showed no notice of the young woman's lack of manners.

"My name is Rose" she said, her voice low and soothing. Elizabeth nearly leaned into her gentle touch as the woman washed away the grime and salt that marred her normally angelic face. "Now you can have som'more if you think you can keep it down." Her smile beamed wider when Elizabeth nodded furiously, reaching out trembling hands towards the flask. Rose handed Elizabeth the flask, and set about to untying the ropes that bound the petite captive's hands and feet. A young soldier leaning against one wheel of the wagon stood up quickly.

"She's a prisoner, you can't untie her!" He nearly shouted. Rose put her hand on one of her generously built hips and raised an eyebrow at the young man.

"Daniel, let me make something clear. I can untie her, and I will. She's just a teeny thing, and weak at that. Which one of you was man enough to tie her up in the first place?" She said sarcastically, and the young man quickly backed down.

"Sorry Rose, I was just following orders, I swear." He stammered, looking down at his feet.

"Whose orders?" Rose asked, her expression still more amused than angry.

"Mine" came Williams crisp low voice from behind her. She turned and glared at him, annoyed.

"I can expect it from jus' about anyone, but not you Major William. I'm surprised at you, I thought you knew to treat a lady better than that." She said reprovingly, tossing the makeshift handcuff's at his feet. Elizabeth finished the water in the flask, and then lowered it, her dull eyes settling on William's.

"I wanted to make sure she wouldnt hurt herself during the trip." He said flatly, but his expression softened when he followed Rose's pointed gaze to the sores that marred the young captive's wrists and ankles. "Are you ok?" He asked, meeting her listless gaze once more. As he looked into her eyes though, they suddenly lit up, blazing with anger. Using what little remained of her strength, Elizabeth threw the flask at the Union Officer that stood before her. He didnt flinch when the flask struck his shoulder, but merely turned on his heel and strode off in the other direction, barking at order that the men unload the wagon and make camp. Rose, shocked at the sudden action of the exhausted woman, turned to face Elizabeth, but found that once again, the life had disappeared from her eyes. Reaching out to take the woman's arm to help her from the wagon, Rose made a mental note to ask someone later what exactly had happened during their trip southward.

"Young man, you've got some explainin to do" William opened his eyes and stared at the rock on which he sat. He didn't even realize he had been asleep until Rose's loud voice woke him up. he sat up, stretching his lean muscles in the late afternoon sun, rolling the stiffness from them before turning around to face the irate woman standing beside him.

"I've fed her, I've bathed her, and I've helped her climb into bed, and she hasn't even shown a spark of life. You look at her, and she practically hisses at you. What did you do that broke her?!" Rose demanded, her ample breasts heaving beneath her lightweight gown, her hands fisted at her sides. During her time at the camp, she had grown to genuinely respect the young man before her, but now, she was ready to respectfully box his ears until he answered her. "I mean it! I want to know what you did to her" Rose demanded, racking her brain to come up with an explanation that would have made the young woman so miserable.

"If you havent noticed, luv, there is a war going on. She is the enemy." He said smartly.

"Dont you go and get that tone with me, young man." Rose snapped, but then her tone softened. "Your own words betray you. You're accent always gets stronger when you're upset. At least I know that you are miserable too." William stood up stiffly, reaching for his flask to take a drink, now standing only about a foot away from the older woman.

"You're happy I am miserable?" He said, yanking off the lid to the flask and tilting it up to his mouth.

"No, I'm just happy that whatever happened, unlike all of your fellow soliders, you held onto your conscience" she said, reaching her arm out and swatting the flask so that its contents missed Williams mouth and instead splashed over his face. He sputtered and turned angrily to confront her, but she was already halfway back to the camp.

"Some good it does me" he muttered furiously and spat into the dirt.




Elizabeth awoke to soft humming coming from the corner of the tent in which she slept. Despite the overwhelming desire to roll back over and go back to sleep, the cramp in her shoulder required some stretching. When she sat up, she noticed the source of the soothing sound, a figure sitting in the corner, hunched over some garments. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, the humming stopped and the figure stood up.

"Its good to see you awake Miss Elizabeth. You've been sleeping like a babe since yesterday afternoon." Rose approached the bed, where Elizabeth recognized the woman from the day before in the muted light of the tent.

"Where are we?" Elizabeth stammered, her voice weak. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears, as she felt her grief settling back over her like a wet blanket over a flame.

"Somewhere east of Leesburg I believe. Or perhaps near Alexandria. I don't rightly know" she said, with something that sounded like a matronly version of a giggle.

"You've been so kind to me" she whispered, confused as to why she was being treated like a lost child rather than a prisoner of war. "But why? I'm from the South." She said blandly, expecting some sort of shock or revulsion. Instead, she was met with a gentle smile.

"So am I. Charleston originally. But what does that have to do with anything?" She said, matter-of-factly. Now come, I-" But her cheerful demeanor vanished when she heard the noises of wagons approaching the camp, and the hollers of men for stretchers.

"Well, it sounds like they've gotten here. Come on sweetheart, lets get you dressed. I took the liberty of cleaning your dress while you slept, so lets get you ready to go out there" Rose stood, grabbing the clean dress from her chair, and reaching out a hand to help Elizabeth to her still unsteady feet. Just as Rose finished tying the back though, the tent flap was brushed aside. William stepped in, ducking under the doorway. When he lifted his head though, he looked startled to see Elizabeth standing there. He turned to Rose instead though.

"You're needed outside" he said, his voice bristling with impatience. He turned to Elizabeth and squared his shoulders. "You too"

"I'm not going anywhere with you" she spat, her eyes flashing venomously. Shaking his head, William stepped forward and grasped her arm.

Elizabeth felt electricity course through her at his touch, and was revulsed by her visceral reaction to his presence. Unable to pull back though, she simply followed, though still resisting his grasp.

William turned back to glare at the young woman, but he felt himself soften towards her once his eyes settled on her face. Despite the anger there, he could still see the vulnerability there, but now mixed with the pain that lay just beneath the surface. Almost unconsciously, his grip loosened, and he slid his hand down her arm to grab her hand.

Though still incensed, Elizabeth could tell the moment that his demeanor changed towards her. When his hand trailed down her arm, she thought he was releasing her. When his hand grabbed hers though, she became truly confused. Rather than fight him further, she meekly followed behind him, into the confusion outside of the tent.

In front, seven wagons were being unloaded of their cargo, human cargo. All around, men cried out in pain, in delirium, and in misery. As soldiers ran past her carrying bandages, water, and makeshift stretchers, Elizabeth was unwittingly pushed forward to the front of the crowd. When the stench of decay and disease reached her nose, she nearly retched, her empty stomach clenching and driving her to turn from the source, desperately seeking solace in the noisy crowd.

When the young woman, his prisoner, turned and collided into his chest, William stood anchored in the spot, blocking her desperate bolt from the scene before them. When she let out a sob into his chest, he gently grasped her shoulders. Intent on pushing her away from him, the moment that his fingers gripped her shaking body, compassion overtook him, and he slid one hand to her back, pulling her towards him, hiding her face in the crook of his arm. In a moment, Rose was by his side. Hearing his name called by Bryant, William grasped Elizabeth gently and shifted her over to Rose's waiting embrace.

When Elizabeth looked up through tearstained eyes, he was gone.

"Honey, are you goin to be all right?" Rose asked Elizabeth gently, who was still slightly trembling. The poor girl only nodded though,and leaned against a hitching post, sliding down the rail into a half-sitting position. The gruesome sight of the wounded being brought over from the Gettysburg battlefield seemed to have drained the energy out of the young woman. Rose couldn't blame her, there were so many. The first time she had seen the war-wounded carried in, the sight alone had made her ill. Before Rose could take Elizabeth's hand to remove her from the scene, Bryant and another young soldier approached.

"Rose?" He spoke up, attracting the woman's attention from her charge. "Major Chapman wants the woman brought to the hospital tent." He pointed to the tent on the far side of the field where the men were being taken.

"But she's feelin poorly, cant you see that?" Rose motioned to the girl, who leaned wearily against the pole, listening to their discourse. "All that blood, it just doesnt agree with her. She ain't used to this work." Rose explained, trying to determine William's reasoning for the order.

"She knows how to care for people. Major Chapman was insistent about it." Bryant said, he square jaw set. "Can she move on her own? Or should I carry her?" He said, his patience growing thin. Rose placed a hand on her hip and glared at the Bryant,

Hearing herself spoken of as it she wasn't there bristled on Elizabeth's already strained nerves. Reaching a point where the frustration was almost too much, she spoke up.

"I'm right here." Brushing the dust off her skirts, Elizabeth called on the reserves of her strength, and stood to her full height. "Stop talking about me like I am not."

Elizabeth lifted her face to the hot summer sun, gathering her wits about her as she straightened her spine. Rose stood back a step, and watched in amazement as a change came over the girl who, only moments before, could not even stand on her own.

When she approached Rose and Bryant, her head was held high. Although her senses were assailed with the scent of death, she called upon her steely resolve and blocked it out. This time when she looked at the grisly scene before her, she appraised it as she would a task at hand. At this point, she could either sit and think about how miserable that she was, or she could put herself to work.

"Please take me to the medical tent." She said, her voice even and controlled. Rose merely blinked, as suprised as Bryant. The young woman that stood before her was confident and proud, a far cry from the tired little girl that had practically been carried to the bed only yesterday. While Bryant stood quielty, the young soldier next to him leaned forward nervously.

"Sir... with all due respect, she's a confederate. What if she..." He trailed off when Elizabeth sent him a cold look.

"With all 'due respect' sir" she said, her teeth clenched in anger, "I couldn't kill a man, even a Union soldier. Now if you'll show me to the medical tent, I could use some distraction" she said, her bitter voice belying a hurt deeper than the callous tone she tried to adopt. The young soldier flushed and stared awkwardly at his toes, while Bryant tried to come up with a fitting reply. Coming up blank, he shrugged at Rose.

"Take her to the tent. I'll check back in an hour." He said, turning around and wondering how he would describe what had just taken place to William. His superior had instructed him carefully on how to handle the girl. His instructions had involved yanking her to her feet, tossing her over his shoulder, and dragging her kicking and screaming to the tent, and finally tying her to a bedpost until she agreed to cooperate. Somehow he didn't think that the Major would believe him when he said she went willingly.

* * * * * * * * * * *
When Elizabeth and Rose stepped into the sick tent, Elizabeth felt momentary panic that perhaps her bravado had gotten her in too deep. All around them, both young and old men lay scattered on dirty cloths across the ground. Some were writhing in pain, while others had blessedly slid into unconsciousness. The heat of the July sun had taken its toll, and the pungent smell of infection rose from many wounds that had already turned septic in the stifling summer heat. Groans filled the air, while blood trickled across the dry ground. Feeble hands grabbed for her skirt as Elizabeth stood in silent shock, feeling a lump in her throat form at every mangled limb, every unseeing gaze. Only when Rose took her hand did she come back to herself. At Rose's gentle urging, she moved towards the supply table to gather what she needed.
It came as no surprise to Elizabeth when she saw the materials available for treatment. A meager fire heated a pot of water to be used for surgical cases, while several buckets of river water had been set out alongside dusty rags that would serve as bandages. A pile of bloody sheets lay discarded to the side, awaiting cleaning when possible. With Rose at her side, Elizabeth gathered up a flask of water, some cotton cloths, and several long bandages,

"Where should I start?" She asked Rose, the tremble in her voice betraying her. With a bitter smile, Rose swept her hand out before them.

"Anywhere you see fit. Finding someone needin' medical attention is not going to be a problem." Elizabeth nodded, and moved towards the first cot she saw.

As she knelt down beside the bed, the soldier's war roughened-hand grabbed her arm. "Water" he rasped out, reaching out towards the flask. Quickly unscrewing the top with shaking hands, Elizabeth moved a hand behind the man's head to tilt him towards the water. Although he placed his hands over hers and tried to dump the flask into his parched mouth, Elizabeth forced him to take it slowly. After a few moments of sputtering and coughing, the man began to sip slowly. As he drank, Elizabeth looked him over, noting the gunshot wound on his left thigh. Though bloody, the wound appeared relatively mild, as the bullet appeared to have only clipped him before passing through.

"This one should be easy. Normally I would suggest leaving it until the graver cases have been seen to, but after a few quick stitches, this young man will be back on his feet. Can you sew?" Said a tired but distringuished looking gentleman who had walked up behind her. Elizabeth nodded stiffly in reply. "Good. We have nothing to help with the pain, so I will hold him down while you tend the wound. Please be sure to sew quickly though, for after the past few days I have little strength to spare. Can you do that?" Once again, Elizabeth nodded numbly, and took the needle from the Doctor's hand. With the older man looking on carefully, Elizabeth tried to clean the area as best as she could before closing the wound. Though the soldier writhed and bucked beneath her, the Doctor held him down tightly. Even when the man was yelling, Elizabeth trained her gaze on the task at hand.

Several minutes later, both Elizabeth and the Doctor were wiping their sweaty brows while the young man cursed them to hell an back. Though far from pretty, the end result had Despite the verbal lashing they had received, both looked relieved. "Thank you for your help sir." Elizabeth said wearily, surveying the relatively neat bandage job they had just completed.

"You're very welcome. We seem to make a good team, young lady. Are you ready for the next patient?" The man said, his gallantry in the ugly surroundings refreshing.

"Lead on Doctor" Elizabeth said, gathering her things and following him on to the next cot.

Two hours later, Elizabeth stumbled from the medical tent into the moonlit night, her clothes drenched in sweat and blood. Her hair, long escaped from its low bun now hung in limp curls down her back. As she stared up into the evening sky, she hear a familiar voice call out. Rose strode towards her, a small cloth satchel in hand.

"Are you just now leavin' that tent? What am I to do with you, working yourself near to death like that?!" Rose fussed. Elizabeth only shook her head.

"This is the first I have been able to get away. Lord, will you look at what a mess I am?" Elizabeth groaned weakly. She tilted her dirty face towards the sky, but there was no breeze to cool her. This night, like every other summer night in Virginia, was hot and muggy. "What I wouldn't do for rain." She whispered through parched lips. Rose quickly snatched Elizabeth's arm, tugging her off towards the woods. Taken off guard, Elizabeth stumbled slightly. "Rose, what is going on?"

"Shhh" came the woman's reply. As soon as they were out of view of the camp, Rose thrust the satchel into Elizabeth's hands. "The river is right through those trees. If you move around that bend right there, no one will know you are there," she whispered.

Elizabeth slowly opened the satchel to find a clean cloth and a small bar of soap. Smiling for the first time in what felt like years, she embraced the older woman. "Rose, I swear, I do believe you are an angel of God" she said, already imagining the feel of the cool water running over her body. Rose only smiled and pushed the girl towards the water. "I'll sit over here and wait. Don't take too long, you dont want someone coming to look for you." Elizabeth nodded, and quickly walked around the bend as Rose took a seat on a rock.


Elizabeth could feel her fingers and toes getting wrinkled, but she still dreaded the end to her bath. Hidden beneath the sheltering branches of a willow tree, only small amounts of moonlight filtered down through the leaves. When she heard a male voice call out from nearby, she was glad that she had had the sense to find such a secluded spot. As two figures came into view, she sank back against the trunk of the tree.

" Major, I said wait a moment." came a deep voice from a stocky older man. As the individual whom he was pursuing spun around, Elizabeth nearly groaned out loud. Thankfully shushing herself, she leaned forward for a better listen. "Edmund tells me you reprimanded him." The man said again. William looked furious.

"Yes I most certainly did. They were under strict orders not to harm anyone except for the target. He disobeyed a direct order from his superior, he's glad that was the only reprimand he received." William practially spat, his eyes blazing. Burbank straightened, and stiffly met William's angry expression.

"He killed a confederate" the Lt. Colonel scoffed. "I hardly think that warrants even a verbal reprimand." He said, his tone haughty and cruel.

"He killed a boy!" William's voice rose. When Burbank rolled his eyes, William nearly lost it. He advanced upon the older man. "I was under orders to eliminate a known arms dealer. I got proof, and I acted. You gave me no option, so I ended it there. It should have ende, but Edmund escalated the situation. I recommended him for a transfer of duties." William said bitterly, but Burbank did not back down.

"I know you did. However, Edmund was assigned to your unit at my request. He reported directly to me. Had it not been for your behavioral 'blemish,' you might have received a positive report. To say the least, Edmund is being reassigned. Unlike your request however, he is receiving a promotion." Burbank sneered a grin, while William stood stiffly in outrage. "Know this, Major Chapman. From this point on, any deviation from my orders will result in a finding of disobedience on your part. Such behavioral problems effect the cohesiveness of this army, and thus are considered the most dangerous of offenses. Should I, at any time, feel that your actions, or lack thereof, threaten the strength of my command, I can swiftly enact my justice. Am I understood?" A snakelike grin spread across his face as William's jaw clenched. "I dont hear you."

"Yes sir" William growled, his back still rigid. As Lt. Colonel Burbank stalked off, William stood completeyl still for a moment, taking deep breaths. As Elizabeth watched, he spun on his heel and strode towards the riverbank roughly twenty feet from where she stood hidden. She caught her breath as he quickly yanked off his uniform and slid into the dark still waters, but not before she had caught a glimpse of his chiseled back. His muscles, taut with his anger, rippled as he moved. In the moonlight, his body took on a feline grace, and he appeared every inch a dangerous predator. Even the puckered scar from his injury had a sort of mangled beauty to it in the evening light. His movements, even when seemingly relaxed, were controlled and deliberate. Elizabeth, suddenly fearful for some reason, quickly snuck to the shoreline and got behind the tree to towel off and slide her shift back on. She had just pulled her wet hair through the neckline when a hand slipped around her wrist.

Before Elizabeth had time to screen, she was whipped around and out of the shadows of the willow, and made to face a very angry, and very wet, William.

"Were you spying on me?" He asked furiously, water still dripping from his wet locks. Although he had pulled on a pair of pants, his chest was completely bare. "Answer me!" William ordered, shaking her. Stumbling slightly, Elizabeth fell into him. Nimbly though, William stepped out from in front of her, so instead of colliding with him, Elizabeth fell to the ground. Her anger finally spilling over, she remained in her prone position and yelled back at him.

"I was cleaning the blood of your soldiers off of myself, after I spent all day in that damn tent looking after them, on your orders! I was just leaving as you approached, and rather than expose myself, I attempted to dress and leave you in peace. Now could you kindly do the same for me?" She sneered, angry tears blurring her vision. William stared at her for a moment, and then his hands unclenched. He reached out a hand, but halted immediately when he saw Elizabeth flinch.

Although he wanted to yank her to her feet so that she would stop staring at him like a frightened doe, he recognized the fear in her eyes and understood why it was there. "I know you won't believe me, but I won't hurt you. I give you my word" He said softly, with his arm still extended. After staring at him warily for a few moments, Elizabeth reached out her hand and took his. When he lifted her to her feet, he quickly saw that, in her fall, she had scraped the palm of one hand. Trying not to stare, he gathered his things, and turned back towards her only after he had pulled on his shirt.

Elizabeth hated herself at this very moment. Not only had she clumsily fallen, but now she was unable to do anything but stare at this man, this man who had for the last several days seemed nothing more than a monster. Now, in the moonlight, he was only a man. Wet curls hung down over his eyes, glancing off of his angular cheekbones, while water dripped down his jawline. Under the rays of the moon, he took on an ethereal quality that had Elizabeth feeling edgy and uncomfortable. Meeting his piercing blue eyes with her own green ones, she watched him carefully when he approached her again. Before she had realized what he was doing, he had taken her hand in his and wrapped a clean dry cloth around the scratch, tying it off carefully at the end.

With one eyebrow raised, Elizabeth stared at him. "You didnt have to do that, you know." She said softly. William glanced at her with troubled eyes, before turning away.

"We should get you back to camp before someone tries to come searching for you. There are some who would look for an excuse to hurt you, and even I couldnt help you then." He said, his voice tired.

"I heard what he said" came Elizabeth's response. William turned quickly back towards her.

"Heard what who said?" He said, his voice clipped, tension rippling through him.

"That man, your superior. He didnt give you much choice, did he?" She asked slowly, not ready to grant total forgiveness, but recognizing that things were perhaps more complicated than she had initially belived.

Williams proud shoulders fell, and his head tilted towards the ground. "No, he didn't. But that doesn't really matter, does it?" He said, his voice sounding defeated.

"It does, and it doesnt. I dont really know yet." She said, taking a deep breath, turning towards camp. William fell into step beside her, and the two walked in silence until they were back in view of the tents. Elizabeth began to walk in the direction of her tent, but stopped in her tracks when she heard William say her name.

"Elizabeth?" He said. As the young woman turned to him, light from the campfires behind illuminating the night around her, he lost his train of thought. Her huge green eyes, which had lately been so full of venom, now simply held a quiet sadness. The thought that he had put that sadness there was like a knife in his side.

Elizabeth watched as a hundred different emotions played across William's face. His stormy blue eyes held confusion with which she was all to familiar. It was like the first time she had seen him, when he opened those blue eyes while lying there, injured and helpless. There was something powerful about those eyes, but also something overwhelmingly human. Steeling herself, she stood straighter. "Did you say something?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself from an imaginary chill.

"I'm not a monster." was all he said. As he watched, a lone tear slid down Elizabeth's cheek. Silent, she turned her back to him and walked away.

"She knows" Rose placed a gentle hand on the young man's shoulder. "She just isnt ready to admit that yet." The older woman said softly, before following Elizabeth into their tent. William stood watching for a moment, and then turned off in the other direction, fearing that tonight would be yet another night without sleep.

After a night of tossing and turning, Elizabeth had awakened with the dawn. As she sat up in her makeshift cot, Rose re-entered the tent with a handful of clothes.

"I know its not the latest fashion, but these are clean. We dont really have time to mend your nightgown, so this will have to do for now." She said, handing down the cotton garments.

"These will be just fine." Elizabeth said, gratefully accepting the proffered garments. Within just a few moments, she had shed her tattered clothing and donned the simple summer dress. Silently moving behind her, Rose tied the straps of the apron behind the younger woman.

"My word child, if your waist gets much smaller you'll disappear. When was your last meal?" Rose said, spinning Eliabeth around. When Elizabeth only shrugged meekly, Rose gripped her hand and dragged her from the tent.

"Sit down right there, I'll be back in a few" she said brusquely, before turning on her heel and walking away. Only after Rose spoke of it did Elizabeth realize how hungry that she really was. Wrapping her hands tighly around her midsection, she leaned forward and waited for the older woman to return.

William had just placed his shaving blades back into the saddlebag that rested in his tent when Bryant entered.

"Sir, your presence is required in the Officer's tent."

"Very well, please tell them that I will be there in just a moment." He said, reaching for his shirt. Bryant nodded and stepped back from the tent.

William finished dressing, and then followed where his friend had just gone. As he stepped from the tent, he gave himself a moment to adjust to the bright early morning sun. Almost immediately, his eyes drifted to the place where Elizabeth sat.

The tents, campfires, equipment, everything was dull and dirty, coated with the dusty residue of gunpowder. In the midst of the mess, Elizabeth sat quietly, her sun-bleached hair tumbling down her back in soft, messy curls. The faded pale blue cotton of her dress attracted the sunlight around her, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

However beautiful that she appeared though, her stature belied her misery. Whereas it had only been days since he had seen her perched proudly on the rock beside her house, staring out over the lazy river with a daring twinkle in her eye, now she sat in a hunched position, arms curled around herself protectively. The woman with whom he had bantered good-naturedly now sat looking beaten, looking weary.

Although he could hardly blame her for despising him, there was a part of him that hoped one day that would change. Now that her anger had disapated, the bitter sadness that replaced it made her dull and lifeless. He found himself wishing that she would yell and scream at him, that she would explode with the fury that he knew could be found in her restless spirit. Instead, she sat listlessly, defeated. William's shoulders sank with the knowledge that it was he who had done this to her. Had he left her behind to mourn her family, she would have been free to live her life hating him. Instead, he had brought her even lower, forcing her to remain a prisoner. Even while standing there watching her, he could not answer the question that nagged him, why had he brought her there?


Remembering that he was due in the Officers' tent, William turned away from the young woman and walked off, but not before another figure had noticed the man's intense gaze. As Lt. Col. Burbank turned to follow the younger officer, he made a mental note to find out who the blonde girl was, and what she meant to William.

When Rose returned with stale bread and lukewarm coffee, Elizabeth's mouth nearly watered. Because she hadn't eaten for two days, it wouldnt have mattered what she ate. Rose watched as the young woman inhaled the meager meal, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll be in the medical tent if you need me. Take your time" she said, smiling, handing over another piece of bread.



Feeling better after the simple meal, Elizabeth took a deep breath and entered the makeshift hospital. Shocked to see several of the cots empty, Elizabeth looked quickly for the Doctor. She caught sight of him at the far end, and quickly hurried over.

"Where did they go?" She asked, pointing to the empty guerneys. Gazing at her for a moment in confusion, the Doctor finally recognized what the girl was asking.

"I'm sorry my dear, those were the ones that didn't make it through the night." He said, looking back down at the wound he was cleaning.

"But...but there are so many?" Elizabeth said, in disbelief. Although still shocked, she gathered up another cloth and began to wrap the bandage as the Doctor completed his examination.

"During the first several days, the losses are always the heaviest. Some have internal injuries that we didn't know about, some just can't heal quickly enough. Some days, almost as many will die in here as on the battlefield," he said softly. "That's just the way of it." When Elizabeth completed her dressing, the older man gave a nod of approval. The man began to stir fitfully, but Elizabeth placed a hand on his shoulder and stroked it gently, soothing him as she would a child. The man slid back into his slumber without waking, and Elizabeth straightened.

"My dear, you have a natural talent. Perhaps you can go help our young friend over there. His bandages need changing, and I'm afraid he won't find the experience pleasant." Nodding, Elizabeth walked to where the Doctor had suggested. Moving to the boy's head, Elizabeth was relieved to see the amputee from the surgery the night before.

At her approach, his eyes opened. His lips parted, and she could tell at once that he was trying to speak.

"Shhh, its ok. Don't try to speak yet, you've had a rough time of it. Let me get you some water, and then I'll explain, ok?" She said gently. At the boy's barely-perceptable nod, Elizabeth went to fetch some water. When she returned with a small flask, she slid her hand behind the boy's head to help him drink. If he was suprised that he was too weak to hold up his own head, he didn't show it. When he finished drinking, Elizabeth helped him lie back down. Grabbing a cool damp cloth, she began to clean some of the sweat and grime from his forehead. When his frightened blue eyes met hers though, she began speaking to him.

"You had surgery last night, and your body is still very weak. You are going to sleep a lot, which is good. You need to let yourself recover. Please dont try to move, we will help you do that when you are ready. There are some bruises on your throat, which is probably why you cant speak right now." She kept her voice low and soft, so as not to worry the boy. As she washed his forehead, she kept her gaze locked on his, hoping that he wouldn't try to look down to where his leg had once been. Luckily, the blood loss that he had experienced the night before had drained him of all energy, and his body hadn't yet recovered enough for him to be fully conscious.

"I'm going to stay right here, but I want you to close your eyes and try to sleep again, ok?" She was relieved when, without a word, the boy shut his eyes and relaxed. It was only moments until his breathing deepened, and Elizabeth knew he had fallen asleep. Setting aside the cloth, she remained at his side for a few minutes more before moving on to check on the next patient.

Although the mid-atlantic states were still in the midst of a stifling heat wave, a cold front sweeping in from the southwest carried a building storm front closer and closer to the encampments. Although the day dawned bright and sunny in Northern Virginia, the slow dry winds moving in from the west carried the thunderheads ever closer to the Union encampment.

After working tirelessly through the morning and afternoon with only brief breaks, Elizabeth sat down wearily next to her youngest patient. She took advantage of the fact that he was sleeping soundly, and quickly changed the dressing on his wound. Despite the high rate of infection she'd seen, his was healing nicely. Clearly he had been a healthy boy before the injury, more's the pity. She thought sadly on how he would react when he woke up and realized he only had a stump where his leg had been. Elizabeth took a wet rag and began washing off his face, as had become her regular duty throughout the day. Although he had only opened his beautiful blue eyes once the night before, she liked to think that he was aware of her touch, and that somehow he might have been able to take comfort in it. When she imagined that this could have been Matthew laid out on a cot, depending on the mercy of a stranger for help, a lump rose in her throat. Setting down the cloth, Elizabeth rose and quickly stepped out into the late afternoon air.

Burbank was pacing after the day's briefing. Knowing that William was a favorite among the older officers, there was a good chance he would be selected to accompany the two Brigidier Generals down to rendezvous with Grant, as was currently being discussed by the three commanding officers. Just that morning, a dispatch had been received that General Grant's Army of the West had finally taken control of the Mississippi after a 6 week siege. Rumor had it that Grant had set his eyes on Atlanta, and was seeking to reinforce his troops.It appeared that the Senior officers were of a mind to send Burbank up to New York with those soldiers recovered enough for the trip, thanks to an escalation of violence that the local government was struggling to suppress, Burbank knew that the trip would effectively end his career. The older officers, those on their way out, were being directed back home. The young and promising were being transferred back to the front lines. Thrust into the heart of the Confederacy, should they succeed, would be heroes. William's career had to end now. Burbank only had to find a weak spot, and attack. He kicked a stone across the dry ground, watching as it bounced and kicked up a trail of dust that curled up into the air like smoke.

William stretched his sore muscles, closing his eyes and trying to remember what it had felt like to sleep in a real bed, on a real mattress. Instead he slept on a lumpy cot, a luxury provided to the officers. He reached for the water bucket and unbuttoned the front of his shirt, splashing the cool water across his face. Rather than use a towel, he allowed the water to run down his neck and onto his shoulders, where it trickled down his chest. The hot morning sun would quickly dry what little moisture remained, but for now William reveled in the shock of the cool liquid on his skin. His hands flexed and he tilted his head toward the sky, his arms flexing at his sides. Though he didnt know why, William was edgy, anxious almost. He couldn't shake the feeling that the current summer lull would last. It's just the heat, he thought to himself. The unrelenting sun strained the nerves as it hardened the ground. He kicked out at the water bucket, tipping it over. At the same moment he glanced up, Elizabeth whipped around at the noise of the bucket bouncing off the ground. The two locked eyes for a moment, until Elizabeth finished tying her apron and strode off. Swearing under his breath, William spun and stalked off in the other direction.

Unfortunately for the two, Burbank had seen the look that sizzled between the two, and made a mental note to find out more about the history between them. This young female prisoner could be the weapon he would use to bring William to his knees.



Elizabeth went about her morning work in stony silence, keeping her distance from the Doctor, as well as Rose. Her mind was wandering as her fingers absentmindedly toyed with the knot she had just tied on the young amputee's bandage, wandering so much that she didnt even realize he had awoken.

"It's all right, I know you did what you had to do." He said, his voice low and raspy. Elizabeth's head shot up, and she looked at his dusty face. "At least I woke up from it all." He said, the pained expression on his face belying the grief that hid just beneath the surface of his boyish face.

"You were lucky, not many would have survived an infection like that." She said, straightening and moving her stool slightly closer to the makeshift cot. "You must be strong" She said, placing a hand on his arm. The boy snorted an pulled away.

"Some good that did me. It doesn't matter now that I'm a cripple though." He said, his mouth set in a grim line. Elizabeth didn't back off though.

"You'll be surprised to find how much you are still able to do, once you heal." She said, trying to sound supportive. Although the boy had young eyes, they were filled with bitter tears.

"Easy for you to say! I don't have a leg anymore. I used to be the fastest runner in my brigade, and I could ride too. Now look at me, useless. I can't run, can't ride, can't fight. Face it lady, I'm nothing!" He said, staring down at the bandaged stump that was all that remained of his leg.

Her nerves, which were taught as a bowstring before this, snapped.

"You are a survivor, which is more than can be said for most of the men in here. If you can't recognize the gift that you were given when you lived through that infection, then you dont deserve it." Tears welled in her eyes. "You are one of the lucky ones, and if you cant appreciate that, then I dont know why I have wasted my time at your bedside- I'm beginning to think that maybe I should have spent my time trying to save a life of someone who might actually be grateful!" She snapped, throwing the extra bandages that she clutched, and standing up so quickly that she tipped the stool over. Frustrated at his pain, and embarassed at her own reaction, Elizabeth bolted from the tent. Stepping into the spot she had so quickly vacated, Rose righted the stool and sat, placing a hand on the boy's trembling arm.

"None of that was meant for you, love." Rose soothed, having seen the boy's stricken expression. "That one's got a lot of demons riding on her back, and she won't be happy until she has thrown off every last one of 'em."

"She's right though. I've had a lot of time to think, lying here in this bed, and I guess I've already wasted too much of it feeling sorry for myself. Do you think she'll come back?" He asked, his voice insecure.

Rose nodded. "She'll be back, thats for sure. She just needs to blow off some steam."

William was brushing off his horse when he saw the small blonde race for the woods. Swearing under his breath, he passed off the leadrope to the nearest soldier and took off after her.

Elizabeth bolted from the tent, gasping for air. She felt like someone had suddenly tightened a corset around her. It was like she couldn't quite catch her breath. Stumbling into the woods, she stepped out blindly, occasionally grasping at trees to help keep her upright in her flight. Low branches and brambles ripped at her clothing, but she felt nothing. Hearing footsteps racing up behind her, she ran faster. She had traveled some distance when she realized that she no longer heard her pursuer. Feeling like she could go no further, she found herself leaning up against an old oak tree in a grassy clearing when she finally came to her senses. She gasped for air and clutched at her side, her lungs burning while her heart felt like it was seizing.

"Bend over slightly, try putting your head between your knees, it will help you regain you balance" came a low voice from behind her. Her adrenaline still racing, Elizabeth's fingers clutched around the scissors that were in her apron pocket. Rashly, she struck out, catching the new arrival off guard.

William jumped backwards nimbly, just missing the pointy edge of the scissors. Still she lashed out though, her eyes blazing like a wildcat's.

"Why are you following me?! Can't you just leave me alone already?" She shrieked at him, her breath coming erratically.

William stretched out his hand, keeping it low, and tried speaking to her like he would a frightened horse.

"It's all right, I am not here to hurt you." He said, but lept backwards again when she advanced. She struck out, the medical tool now a deadly weapon. As the world closed in on her, the only thing on Elizabeth's mind was to attack, to escape. The scissor blade caught in his shirt and tore a small hole, spurring William into action.

"I dont want to hurt you!" He ground out, backing up slowly.

"Just go away!" She cried, her hand shaking violently. She looked around frantically for an escape route, but finding none, she decided her chances were better if she faced him.

"Please, just put those down. We dont have to talk, just come back to the camp." He soothed, his voice soft and reassuring despite the adrenaline that surged through him.

When Elizabeth ignored him and slashed at him again, He dodged again and slipped behind her as she swung out violently. Grabbing her around the waist with one hand, and sliding his other hand down her arm to the wrist of the hand that held the scissors, he locked her in his strong grip, pulling her back up against his chest. Standing behind her, he pressed his cheek to her ear. "Please" he whispered, hoping that she would see reason and give up her fight. He knew that this was dangerous, holding the woman so close to his body. He felt the warmth of her, could feel the tension beneath her smooth skin, and felt her pulse racing at her wrist. Releasing her while she was still so recklessly upset could be dangerous, but holding her so closely was equally as dangerous for his sanity.

Elizabeth, hardly ready to concede victory, fought back. With her free hand, she struck out at his face, using the element of surprise to force the young officer backwards. He took a step though, and pulled her with him.

Elizabeth tried to spin in his embrace, only realizing after great effort that the young man held her in a grip from which she could not break free.

She struggled only for a moment, and then released the scissors. As they fell to the ground, all the fight went out of her, and she would have collapsed had William not held her so tightly. A gut wrenching sob broke free from her small frame, and William felt like something inside of him had torn at that forlorn sound of her cry. He knelt slowly, allowing her to slide bonelessly to the ground. Remaining on his knees, he pulled her even closer, so that her back leaned up against his shoulder. He released her wrist, and she immediately pulled her hand to cover her face, trying the force back the tears that threatened to spill out. William just held the trembling young woman in his arms, whispering words of comfort in her ears.


"Shh now love, its ok." Still she cried though, the tension flowing from her body with every tear.

"Why can't you just let me go?" She asked, her voice a pained whisper. William felt the sharp blade of guilt slice through him at the weakness in her words. "Please, just let me go. I have nothing left, dont you see? I'm empty, and yet you keep me here, a prisoner in a place I don't belong. Isn't this enough?" She wrung her hand out, and lifted her tearstained gaze up to his. For what felt like a lifetime, her green eyes locked on his blue ones, and nothing was said. Unable to take it anymore, Elizabeth looked down at her feet, and her eyes began to fill up. "All right" she whispered, her voice tired and hoarse. "You win. I'll go back to the encampment." She said, pulling away from the soldier so that she could get her feet underneath her.

At the sight of her beautiful face, tearstained and bowed in defeat, something snapped in William. "Wait" he said, snaking out a hand and grabbing her shoulder. Off balance, she fell towards him slightly, and he could not help himself. He tilted her face towards his, and kissed her. Despite the fact that his intention was only to sooth, to comfort, he lost control as he crushed his lips over hers. A small squeak of surprise came from her, and she briefly tried to pull away. When his arm slid behind her though, Elizabeth sighed and leaned into his embrace. His kiss enflamed her, and something inside of her that she thought had died with her family suddenly sparked back to life. Need and desire raced through her veins, and, God help her, she kissed him back. Her hands, scraped and bleeding from her headlong flight into the woods, slid up his arms to his broad shoulders, and she pulled him closer, relishing in the heat of the contact.

When William felt her lips part, and her tongue tentatively probe his mouth, he shuddered as his last restraints snapped. He claimed her mouth, almost violent in his need. Matching his passion though, the young woman before him tightened her grip on his arms, and tilted her head, allowing him better access to her mouth. She consumed him, and he was no longer in control. His hands skimmed over her, as he wanted to touch her like his life depended upon it. His hands flew over her skin, burning to touch her in more intimate places. He reached behind her neck and quickly unbound the back of her dress. His fingers traced the golden skin on her back, and slid the dress forward and off, so that it pooled to the ground where she knelt. He cupped her breasts, relishing the way they fit in his hands. As he traced a thumb over one nipple, she moaned into his mouth.

Intent on pleasing her, William slid his lips to her neck, and then down her chest. Kissing over to one breast, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked until it pebbled. Thrilled with her response, he turned his attention to the other one and did the same.

Elizabeth threw her head back with wild abandon, and gave herself over to the emotions that raced through her. Wanting, no, needing to see more of him, she gripped his chin and lifted his head back to hers. While she kissed him, her delicate fingers deftly undid the buttons on the front of his shirt. William watched her, his blue yes blazing, as she drank in the sight of him. While he had been ethereal in the moonlight, he was positively god-like in the sun. His pectorals were smooth and wide, giving way to broad, strong shoulders and arms. His waist was narrow, and the muscles rippled across his flat stomach, and tapered down in a deep vee to the waistline of his pants.

This time when they kissed, the skin-on-skin contact electrified them both. Elizabeth threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms up and around his neck, pressing herself up against him. A deeply feminine pride filled her when she felt him through his pants, hard and demanding against her stomach. William growled and gripped her waist, pulling her closer and thrusting his hips towards her. While one hand secured her to him, the other slowly moved around her front, tracing the flat plane of her stomach, and then moving downwards. When he slid his hand down, Elizabeth rocked her hips forward, granting him access to her most private area. When he cupped her, he could feel her wetness between his fingers. He smiled against her lips.

"You want me as much as I want you right now" he said, more a command then a question. Elizabeth was silent though, kissing him in response. When one of his fingers slipped inside of her though, she moaned out loud.

"Shh little one, its all right now" he whispered into her ear, moving his finger within her. When he felt her walls begin to tighten around him, he slipped a second finger inside of her. and moved his thumb forward over her clit. When she began to come apart, no longer able to support herself on her knees, William slipped his arms behind her and rocked her backwards towards the ground, sliding her dress completely off of her legs.

Reckless with need, Elizabeth hooked her legs behind William, and she pulled him down over top of her. His hands were once again all over her, and her eyes slid closed. Not caring that he still had his pants on, Elizabeth tilted her hips towards him, needing contact. When his hardness came into contact with the heat between her legs, he thrust forward almost uncontrollably. Possessed with the need to be inside of her, he quickly reached down and unbuttoned his pants. As soon as his hard cock sprang free, he realized that he could wait no longer. Cursing his impatience, he positioned himself at her opening.

"I'm sorry love, this may hurt a bit" he said, immediately thrusting inside of her. Already slick and relaxed with pleasure, Elizabeth only felt a quick pain as he broke through her barrier. Very quickly though, the pain began to recede. When William rocked backwards, Elizabeth lifted her hips to give him better access. When he thrust back inside of her, the feeling was so intense that Elizabeth cried out, locking her legs behind him and pulling him deeper. Using every ouce of steely resolve he had, William kept himself in check as he pushed in and out of her, kissing her neck, her breasts, her lips. Only when he felt her legs begin to tremble and her walls tighten around his cock again did he give himself over to his most primal of urges. As she began to climb her peak, he slid his arms underneath her and lifted her closer to him, driving deeper. His pace escalated, and when he felt her clench around him, he thrust one more time, as deep as he could go. His cock twitched violently inside of her, and he spilled himself into her, groaning loudly.

Elizabeth saw stars, that was the only way that she could explain it. Her body went limp as he collapsed to the grass next to her. They both lay on their backs, the unseeing gazes lifted to the sky. As her heartrate began to slow and the trembling of her body began to cease, the harsh reality of what had just happened crashed over Elizabeth like a tidal wave. Torn between the intense emotions that the soldier next to her invoked, and the deep grief that even now threatened to overwhelm her, Elizabeth felt the numbing pain begin to return.

William, satiated and blissfully happy, turned to kiss the woman next to him. Rising up onto one elbow, he began to lean forward but stopped short when he saw the familiar haunted look return to her eyes. Cursing himself for his own reckless hope that something had changed between them, he fell backwards once more, damning the gods above for their twisted sense of irony. The one woman that he desired above all others, was the one woman who he could never truly have. He could give her all the pleasure in the world, but it would never outmatch the pain that he himself had dealt her. She may be his prisoner, but she would never truly be his. His hands fisted as he cursed himself. Even now, he still wanted her.

Confused and upset, Elizabeth desperately tried to think of something to say. She had never been intimate with a man, yet she instinctively knew that there wasnt supposed to be this wall between them. A part of her wanted to run away, to banish him from her thoughts, or curse him for the rest of her life. Another part of her wanted to grant him innocence, and beg him to stay with her, just a little longer. Alone with her warring throughts, Elizabeth slowly stood and gathered her dress, pulling it up her slender body. Before she returned to camp, she spared herself one last glance at the man behind her. He was sitting up, still naked, but the tension had returned. She saw the muscles in his arms and back tense with anger, and she quickly strode out of the clearning, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Elizabeth ran from the woods like the hounds of hell were after her. Her breath came in sharp painful gasps, and she doubled over from a side cramp. Luckily, the soldiers around her were too engrossed in their work to pay any mind to the petite blonde who burst into the clearing.

Grasping blindly for something to steady her, she grabbed hold of an old oak and forced herself upright. She leaned her shoulder into the solid comfort of the tree and slowly slid down until she was sitting on the ground. Elizabeth wrapped her slender arms tightly around her knees and held back the bitter tears that threatened to spill out. Just days ago she had been wishing to be able to feel something, anything. Now all she wished for was the blessed numbness once more. She inhaled sharply as she saw William stride into the camp taking the path from which she had just come. Although he passed only feet from where she was sitting, the young man was lost in thought. He walked with a steady stride, his long muscular legs covering the ground quickly with little effort. The upper sleeves of his shirt were taught, where his muscles bunched with frustration. Despite the fisted hands and the slightly stooped shoulders, William held his head up high, the epitome of military training at its finest. His icy gaze swept the camp in front of him, seeing all but registering very little.

Elizabeth watched him, and immediately recognized the struggle he was facing: although emotionally drained from the inner torment, he was relying on stubborn pride to keep him going. She knew that feeling, all too well. Elizabeth mentally chastized herself for the brief moment of empathy that she had felt towards the soldier. She bit her lip angrily, and was surprised when she realized her lips were still swollen from his kisses. She shivered in an automatic response, but her eyes slowly drifted shut as she remembered the feeling of his hands skimming over her skin, thrilling her, teasing her, worshipping her.

"Damn it!" She swore softly, and shook her head to clear the images that even now still plagued her. The heat that flushed her cheeks briefly was now quickly chased away by a startlingly cool breeze. Elizabeth scanned the skyline and felt some apprehension when she saw the thunderheads growing on the horizon. The wind picked up, and swept through the woodsline, turning the leaves upside down.

Hearing the low rumble of thunder in the distance, Elizabeth stood and walked towards her tent, not wishing to get caught out in what threatened to become a serious stormfront.

Wearily, she sat on her rough cot, and began removing the wrinkled and grass-stained cotton shirt.

"Oh no you don't" came Rose's low voice from the doorway. "We've got a storm a'headin this way. Wait until its over to change yo' clothes. Right now, we got to get ourselves to work. The tents ain't rainproof, an' some of those boys have bandages that can't get wet." Rose set to picking up a few clean cloths from a pile in the corner, but stopped short at Elizabeht's soft voice.

"Rose?" She asked, and the older woman turned to look at her, hearing the familiar pain in her voice. "Do you think we'll ever heal from all this?" There was something else there though, something Rose hadn't heard before. Hope. Only a flicker, but it was still there.

The older woman smiled slightly, and paused before responding. "Someday, I s'pose we will."

Elizabeth gazed at the ground thoughtfully for a moment and then rose to her feet, following her companion out of the tent.





"I want everyone in, now!" William called to his troops. His second in command raced to his side.

"Major, a few of our men left with a group this morning. The Brigidier General sent them out on reconnaissance. There were following the river downstream."

"Thank you Bryant. When you see them tonight, ask them to report to me. For now, have everyone tie down the tents and see to the horses. Send anyone that's free towards the hospital tent." Despite the mounting tension in the camp from the growing storm, William gave commands with ease and a quiet control.

"Yes sir!" Bryant moved off in search of the other troops, while William set to work packing up gear and supplies.

As the storm grew more violent around him, he sent most of the younger men inside whil he worked with a select few to keep the tents in place. While the rain had only just begun, the wind was in full fury. Fierce gusts blew through the camp, and William threw his entire body into tightening the lashes that held the medical tents up. When at last the storm grew too intense, William waved the rest of the soldiers towards cover, and followed them.

Elizabeth had been running through the tent, helping to move soldiers away from the places where the water had begun to pour into the tent. She was in the midst of changing out wet blankets for dry ones when the last of the soldiers came racing in out of the storm. She cringed at her uncontrollable sense of relief when William entered the tent.

His soaking wet curls fell forward over his forehead, and his white cotton shirt was plastered to his upper body. When his blue eyes locked on hers, it was he who turned away sharply, but not before Elizabeth saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Before she could assess her reaction to that knowledge though, there was a commotion at the other end of the tent.

"Major! The river's flooded 'er banks, they're stuck!" Bryant cried, across the length of the tent. Elizabeth turned to look at William. The panic that flickered across her face told her all that she needed to know.

"The horses Bryant, now!" William called out. Immediately, William knew that the reconnaissance patrol was trapped, probably caught halfway across the river in a quickly dissovling piece of ground. William swore loudly, and sprinted back out into the storm from his end of the tent. Bryant made a frantic exit out of his end. Elizabeth reached down and unwrapped her apron. Pulling it off, she handed it to Rose, ignoring the older woman's order to stay put.

"You be careful now little one!" Rose cried out, as Elizabeth stepped out into the storm. The chilly rain nearly stole her breath when it first hit her face. Although the wind had quieted some, the lightening still crackled across the sky. Ignoring the leap of her heart at every crash of thunder, Elizabeth squinted through the storm and saw Bryant and William heading towards the copse of trees that sheltered the horses. Sliding in unnoticed, she reached for the bridle of the nearest horse, a big bay gelding, and tossed a saddle on his back.


"Bryant, can you toss me an extra rope from-" William's request, yelled in Bryant's direction across the howl of the storm, was cut off as he was struck with a corded rope across the chest that had come from another. He turned to the side quickly to see Elizabeth standing next to him, holding a horse that was tacked up.

"Oh no, this is just too dangerous!" William snapped, taking Elizabeth's arm in a firm grip. The young woman wrenched free though and glared at him fron underneath wet strands of hair that clung to her face.

"I'm a prisoner of war, you have no obligation to keep me safe. I can outride most of your men, and happen to know a thing or two about flashfloods. You wanna keep arguing and let those men drown?" She snapped, her green eyes flashing in defiance. Spinning on her heel, she swung herself into the saddle. Although the wet leather nearly caused her to slip off of the other side, Elizabeth adjusted her thin skirt so that she rode astride.

"Damn you woman!" William snapped, turning away as she mounted. When Bryant pulled up next to her with the same doubt written in his eyes, Elizabeth swung the reigns into one hand, crouched down over her mount's neck, and dug her heels into his side. Within moments, the three horses were thundering down the path towards the river, leaping over the occasional branch that had been brought down in the earlier wind.

As Elizabeth thundered down the path following William and Bryant, she struggled to catch her breath in the heavy rain. Here she was, completely drenched, following her two captors in the middle of a wicked storm, to go risk her life trying to save men who would shortly march off to go fight in the war against her own countrymen. As hideously wrong as the situation seemed, Elizabeth had no one to blame but herself for getting herself into this mess. They hadn't asked her for her help. Hell, they tried to keep her from coming! But no, she had stubbornly followed them into this mess.

When her horse shied suddenly to the right, she used every bit of concentration that she had to keep herself upright in the saddle. She cursed herself for allowing her mind to wander when at a breakneck gallop in such sloppy conditions. Clenching her jaw, she dropped back in the saddle and guided the gelding back onto the trail, willing herself to pay attention to what she was doing. When Bryant's horse spooked at something in front of them, William slowed so as not to cause a collision. Through the blinding rain, Elizabeht could barely make out the shape of a four foot obstacle blocking the trail, where a tree had fallen. William muttered a curse and moved off the trail into the woods, trying to find an easy way around the blockage. Because the underbrush was so dense though, he was having to pick his way very carefully. Bryant, unable to fit abreast, moved in behind William.

Elizabeth was just tightening her reigns to follow when she heard something over the noise of the storm. She halted and waited a moment, listening carefully. When the sound came again from somewhere up ahead, she turned to call out to William and Bryant, who were still searching for a way around the fallen tree. She stood in her stirrups and shielded her hand over her eyes, peering out into the rain. As her eyes slowly adjusted, she could barely make out two or three figures slightly in the distance. As she squinted trying desperately to make out the shapes, the wind and rain quieted slightly. As the sight in front of her became more clear, she was able to make out four figures standing with outstretched arms, waving frantically. When the air cleared slightly more, she finally saw the river.

When had been a lazy moving river before was now a rushing torrent of frothing water, breaking over the banks and dragging trees and shrubs along with it. The men were standing in the middle of what had once been a land bridge, but was now effectively an island. What was worse, though, was that the island was shrinking. The rising water was pulling the riverbank down into it, chipping away at their little land mass bit by bit. As Elizabeth watched, one man slid and would have gone under had he not been grabbed by one of his companions. As it was, his lower half was now submerged. The other soldiers leaned forward to grab on, but Elizabeth could see that the earth under their feet was beginning to give way.

"William!" She cried out, pointing towards the water. William, his horse still struggling to get through the underbrush, tried to call out to the men. Elizabeth, frustrated with the hopelessness of the situation, spun her horse around.

"Should have known this would be too much for her" Bryant said bitterly, backing his horse out of the tangle of briars that he had walked into. William, alarm in his eyes, turned around in his saddle to look towards Elizabeth.

"Don't try it!" He yelled.

"What the..." Bryant trailed off when he saw Elizabeth wheel her mount back around. Sitting down hard in the saddle she kicked the bay on, expertly guiding the animal straight towards the center of the tree. At the base of the tree, she leaned forward out of the saddle, squared her shoulders, and squeezed with her legs. Pressing her hands forward along the horse's neck, she released the reigns and the horse lifted off. The pair sailed over the obstacle, landed, and skidded to a stop after a few strides.

"Damn it..." William growled, and spurred his mount. Elizabeth turned as the two men finally crashed through the underbrush towards her. When they got close enough, Elizabeth was stunned at the murderous look in William's eyes, directed completely towards her. She caught her breath. She had not been expecting admiration, but his fury stunned her.

He swung his lean body off of his mount, pulling off the two ropes he had brought with. One he passed to Bryant, and the other he coiled loosely at his hip.

"Bryant! I want you about 50 feet down stream. Find a shallow spot and see if you cant wade out. Be ready in case any end up in the water." He barked tensely.

"Yes sir!" came Bryant's reply, as he moved down the riverbank.

Finding a sturdy looking tree, William quickly tied the other rope, and then wrapped the other end around the pommell of his saddle, so that it could be easily reached.

"What do I do?" Elizabeth called, still sitting astride her prancing mount, who was eyeing the floodwaters with something akin to panic.

"You stay right there, and don't move!" He snapped, mounting up again.

Although she was furious with his treatment of her, she knew that her response could wait until after the men were all on dry ground. Right now, there was just simply too much going on to waste time with hurt feelings. As she stood there with fisted hands, another crack of lightening lit up the sky above her. Her mount danced beneath her, but didn't bolt. William, unfazed by the storm's second wind, kept right on moving towards the water despite the increasing rain. Biting her lip, Elizabeth said a quick prayer as the horse and rider moved towards the raging water.

William's horse walked right up to the bank and then slid down the muddy bank into the chest deep water. As the two slowly made their way towards the middle of the river, it became obvious that the water level was still rising. When the rain started coming down harder, Elizabeth could barely make out the figures in the water.

Watching carefully, she watched as William tossed the rope out to the first of the soldiers. With the aid of his companions, the young man slid into the water, clinging onto his lifeline while William guided him back towards the shore. When the soldier was able to pull himself up the bank to where Elizabeth stood, he turned and went back for the second.

The second rescue happened much like the first, but by now, the trip was getting more risky for the horse and rider in the water. The water level was now up over William's saddle, and still rising. Within a few minutes, the horse would no longer be able to stand, and their chances of being washed downstream were much greater.

As the third man grabbed a hold of the rope, what was left of the island crumbled into the water, plunging the fourth into the racing current. Before William could call out a warning, he saw Bryant move his horse forward, tossing out the rope as he went. The third soldier successfully pulled himself towards shore, but William stayed in the water, a sharp eye trained on his second in command, who had now reached the last man. Grabbing onto the man's shirt, Bryant dragged him up onto the bank and out of harm's way. He then quickly dismounted to see to the fallen soldier.
When it was clear that Bryant had the situation under control, William turned his horse back into the current to move towards safety. Elizabeth watched warily as the exhausted pair fight their way back towards solid ground. Deciding to see to the half-drowned soldiers who now waited on the embankment, she placed her reigns in one hand so that she could dismount, but stopped quickly when she heard William cry out.

His horse, struggling to make it up the bank, fell to his knees and slid backwards. She looked on in horror as the horse plunged back into the floodwaters, flipping his rider off his back. She spun quickly to call out to Bryant, but realized Bryant was still kneeling next to the prone soldier.

Reacting on instinct, Elizabeth yanked on the reigns to spin her gelding around. Leaning down on the horse's neck, she spurred the animal on, racing to get ahead of the current. A suprised Bryant jumped out of her way as she thundered down the bank, heedless of obstacles in her way. It wasn't until she had passed that he realized William had been swept into the river.

When Elizabeth had gotten a bit ahead of William, she halted the gelding and spun him towards the water. The animal balked hard, his eyes rolling at the sight of the frothy water, but Elizabeth kicked him on. Yielding to his rider, the bay plunged into the river. The water swept up over the front of the saddle as they moved towards the fallen rider, but Elizabeth paid no mind. Leaning forward in the stirrups, she reached out and grabbed onto William's outstretched arm, pulling him towards the back of the saddle. She used every last reserve of strength to keep herself on the horse without losing her hold on William. When he was firmly seated behind her, Elizabeth turned her horse back towards shore.

"Come on baby, you're almost there..." she murmered to the horse, stroking his neck and praying that he had the strength to carry both she and William up the side of the bank. As they neared the edge, Elizabeth hissed in her breath as William tightened his arm around her waist, so tight that she could barely breath. His other hand wrapped around the front of the saddle, anchoring both of them. The horse scrambled up the bank, his hindquarters trembling with the effort. When they reached the top, William abruptly released her and dismounted onto shaky legs. Bryant came riding up to where they stood.

"Christ Almighty, are you all right, sir?" he asked, concern for the man he had come to view as a friend temporarily overcoming proper decorum. William ignored the comment all together though.

"William" Elizabeth said softly, concern written across her delicate features.
"I need to go see to the others before we make our way back towards camp." he said brisquely without even so much as a glance in her direction, and made his way back towards the men.

Elizabeth dismounted to find her own legs wobbly. She loosened the girth on the saddle, and rubbed the horse's neck fondly. Realizing that Bryant still stood behind her, she turned slowly.

"You could have stayed there and watched him down, you didnt have to go after him." Bryant said, confusion lacing his voice. Elizabeth frowned, feeling suddenly defensive.

"I don't know what I have done to make you, any of you" she waved her hands wildly, "think that I am a monster."

"Surely you know at this point though that we can't let you leave the camp" he said warily. Elizaeth bristled at the notion that her actions were merely selfish.

"I'm not going to sit there and watch a stranger die, it just isnt in me to not offer some help." By the end of her comment though, the fire had gone out of her words. Shaking her head, she turned back to her horse, stroking his neck once more.
"You and I both know that there is a big difference between offering some help, and risking your own life to save someone." Bryant said, softly, beginning to realize that he may have misjudged the young woman standing before him.

When she heard the underlying suggestion that maybe her motives were of a more personal nature, Elizabeth went rigid. "Its called compassion. Maybe its just a southern thing."

Bryant snorted, somewhat amused. "If this was a southern thing, or a northern thing either for that matter, we wouldn't be in this war." When the young woman ignored him, he turned and walked back towards the other men. Elizabeth stood, lost in thought. What if...? She started to ask herself, but then cut off. Better not go down that path.


* * *
The walk back to camp was a silent one. In an attempt to spare their spent horses, the riders, themselves exhausted trudged along beside their mounts. The four men walked together in silence, bearing only wet clothes and the occasional bruise as evidence of their near-death encounter.

Elizabeth had been troubled to learn that the group had originally been six men, and that two had not survived long enough to be rescued. Although she was visably upset by the news, no one else was. The young woman had initially thought that Bryant and William's lack of reaction was cold and unfeeling given that these were men with whom they had lived and trained for the last several months. On second thought though, she had seen the toll that this war had taken on the living, and recognized that there would be plenty of time to grieve for the dead when this was all over.

Would it ever end? Elizabeth thought dismally. On cue, the sun began to peak from behind the now distant storm clouds, making everything around them sparkle with blinding light. All around them were the signs of the massive storm. Leaves had been stripped from trees, branches lay haphazardly on the ground. Her dress was still plastered to her body, and now mud caked her boots and ankles. Her long blonde hair, which had come loose in their blind flight to find the river, was now drying into loose ringlets. Too tired to care, Elizabeth had to squint her eyes now at the brightness of everything.

"Ironic, isnt it?" came Bryant's voice from beside her. "The brightest afternoons always come after the worst of storms."

"Is that how it goes?" Elizabeth said, sarcastically. The other man though seemed to ignore her tone, and continued on.

"Where I grew up, in New Hampshire, we would get these terrible blizzards where it would snow for days and days. It would seem like the sun had completely disappeared from the sky. When it all ended though, you would walk outside for the first time and be blinded by how bright and white everything is."

Elizabeth couldn't help but accept the peace offering being laid before her.

"I don't know what I would do if it snowed for days straight. I dont think we'd had a storm last that long in Richmond in a long time, not since I can remember at least." Since she had done something that completely disproved all of his prior opinions of her, Bryant was attempting to be friendly, and Elizabeth accepted the olive branch. They continued their conversation casually, until Bryant was called over to speak with William and Elizabeth was once again left to walk by herself.

Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief when she was finally able to see the tents from the camp up ahead. Had her exhaustion not been so great, she would have chastised herself for the momentary happiness she felt at the sight of the tents. Since when has a prisoner ever been happy to see their jail cell? Before she had a chance to roll her eyes at the absurdity of the situation, William took hold of her horse's reigns from her hands and passed them off to one of the soldiers.

"Please see that the animals are fed and groomed. I want them checked for hear and swelling also." he said sharply to one of the men.

"Yes sir" the young soldier said, taking Elizabeth's horse and following the others, who were led by Bryant.

The few times she had turned to look at William on the way back, he had been glaring at her, his blue eyes icy with seething anger. Taken aback, Elizabeth had averted her eyes and avoided going anywhere near him. It appeared that would no longer be possible.

With narrowed eyes, she stopped to face her captor, who had not said a word to her since the log-jumping incident. She opened her mouth to say soemthing rude, but quickly shut it when William's hand clamped on her arm, and led her off of the path, out of sight of the others. He shoved her towards a tree and released her, and began pacing back and forth in front of her.
This continued until Elizabeth could no longer contain herself.

"Clearly something has you upset. I cannot think of anything I have done, purposeful or not, to earn your anger, and so I conclude that whatever ails you, it has nothing to do with me. If you have nothing to say to me, then I shall leave. If you do have something to say, then I suggest you address it." She said, her words brittle with frustration. Something must have worked, she thought, when William stopped in his tracks and spun to face her, his eyes still cold.

"Well?" She said, trying to keep the fear out of her words. She stared back at him defiantly.

She didnt even have time to react when William lunged towards her, took her face roughly in his hands, and kissed her. His mouth was harsh, his kiss almost violent. His lips closed tightly, unyielding as they pressed against hers. His hands, which gripped her face almost painfully, slid down to her back where he grasped her with the same intensity. Elizabeth stood rail straight, a thousand emotions warring in her mind. It felt like eternity until William's lips left hers. He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath coming raspily.
Elizabeth's eyes opened in surprise, to find his still tightly shut.

"When you jumped that fence, all that I could picture was you getting hurt, and it infuriated me. When you came into the water after me though...I can't even say what..." He said, his voice low.
"Hell, woman. Why can't you ever do as you're told?" He said, his tone softening the words. He remained silent, his eyes still shut, and clenched his jaw. When she felt his hands beginning to softly stroke her back, Elizabeth was startled at the contradiction. Moments before he had seemed angry enough to kill. Now though, he was caressing her as gently as one would a frightened child. Not sure what to make of the situation, she spoke.

"If I had listened, you might not be standing here chastising me." When William opened his startlingly blue eyes and looked at her, Elizabeth wiped all emotion from her face.

"You don't owe me anything" William said with a low growl, backing up.

"You say that like I don't already know it," she argued, her voice rising slightly.

Before she could begin a tirade though, they were interrupted by one of the men.

"Major? The General has asked to see you," the young man said awkwardly, realizing that he had interrupted something.

"I will be right there. Thank you." William said to the young man, but his eyes remained locked on Elizabeth's, who wanted to shrink under his intense gaze. After the other soldier had disappeared, some of her anger resurfaced.

"That was convenient. This conversation had just ended anyway," she snapped, turning to leave.

"No."

William's voice, not loud but not soft either, gave her pause. She turned on him, hands on her hips.

"What exactly do you mean by 'no'?" she asked, her voice wary.

"I mean precisely what I said. This conversation has not ended. We will talk later." William stated, calmly. Elizabeth was furious though.

"No we certainly will not." It was bad enough she had been trapped alone with him this time, but she scared to let it happen again. Better to hate him from a distance than have to deal with this, whatever it was. "I refuse to" she said petulantly.

William did not even flinch though. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height and stared her down. Elizabeth blinked at the transformation. Despite the fact that his uniform was torn and dirty, despite the smudge of dirt on his cheek, even despite the fact that he had, only moments ago, been kissing her like his life depended upon it, an officer of the Union Army now stared back at her.

"Need I remind you that, as a prisoner of war, as MY prisoner of war, you have no say in the matter. I will see you later this evening." he said, striding off with his head held high.

"Ugh!" Elizabeth shouted through clenched teeth, stamping her foot in frustration. "We'll see about that!" she muttered, still fuming.

Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon helping to reinforce sections of the medical tent that had collapsed during the storm. She had taken only a brief break to rinse the river mud from her body and exchange her dirty clothes for a clean cotton dress. Quickly afterwards she busied herself with changing bandages, cleansing wounds, and washing sheets. The Doctor had stopped by to see her for a moment, asking her to check in on the young amputee. Grateful for the work which kept her mind busy, Elizabeth gladly obliged.

She had spent nearly an hour with the boy, helping him to sit up and eat, while helping him to stretch and move his remaining limbs. Although still depressed, much of the young soldier's bitterness had eased. Despite herself, Elizabeth was coming to enjoy the company of the young man, whose name she now knew was Elias.

Elias, or Eli as he preferred to be known, had joined the war effort at age 13, having run away from home and lied about his age on his enlistment papers. Although the army had accepted him, the commanding office of his squad hadn't bought it for a moment. Unwilling to turn an able body away though, the Sergeant had relegated him to a page boy, running messages between reserve units. As the war dragged on though, the boy had been promoted to scout, and oftentimes carried orders up to the front lines of the Army of the Potomac. Most recently, he had been assigned as a runner for General John Reynolds, and had been charged to take the dispatch confirming the advancement of Confederate Troops towards Gettysburg. Unfortunately, he had been caught in the artillery crossfire when Confederate General Archer attacked the 2 nd Wisconsin Infantry at McPherson's Farm. A cannon-ball had ripped though the lines, striking him in the leg and throwing him from his horse. Luckily for young Eli, the Union Infantry quickly overcame the confederate forces and retook the field on which the young boy lay. Eli had been picked up from the battlefield, unconscious and bleeding, and had been moved back towards Union reserves. Once he developed a fever though, his memory failed him. The next thing he remembered was waking up in the medical tent, with the pretty young blonde looking after him.

Elizabeth had forgiven the young man for his initial bitterness and anger, for his young life would be forever changed. Under her gentle care, his spirits were slowly lifting, and his condition was quickly improving.

"Do you think I'll be able to ride again?" He asked, watching her as she re-bandaged the stump that remained of his right leg. Tying off the corner, Elizabeth didn't look up, but smiled anyway.

"Of course. It might take you a while to learn how to balance, but I'm sure you will pick it up quickly." she said, admiring the tidy job she had done.

"I used to be the fastest rider in my school. Three years in a row I won the race at Harvest Day." The boy chattered on. "It didn't matter what horse I rode, I was pretty much unbeatable."

Elizabeth said back on her stool, smiling softly at his boyish bragging. Despite everything he had been through, these moments of immaturity on his part told her that at least some part of his boyhood still remained.

"Is it true you jumped a five foot jump in the pouring rain to go after those men? Eli asked, youthful amazement in his voice. Elizabeth looked up at him quickly.

"What? Where did you hear that?" She said, somewhat shocked that news had traveled so quickly.

"So its true?!" The boy asked, oblivious to her question. Now amused though, Elizabeth rocked back on her stool.

" Like you, I've grown up riding and racing with the boys. They always thought it was funny to try to fun me off the race path, so I taught my horse to go over the obstacles that would end up in our way," Elizabeth explained. She grinned at the

awestruck look on Eli's face. "But the jump wasnt five feet, it was only four."

"Ahem" came an unfamiliar male voice from behind Elizabeth. Both she and Eli turned to see the new visitor. "I see you are doing your part in entertaining our younger troops with tale tales." Burbank stood, looming over the two. Startled, Elizabeth scrambled to her feet.

"Sir." She said, inclining her head slightly. The older officer looked down at her, his gaze imperious and judgmental. Determined not to flinch, Elizabeth straightened her back and tilted her chin up, looking the oder man in the eye. Burbank felt a flash of anger at this young woman, this confederate captive, who dared look back at him as an equal. The nerve! Quickly, he repressed his momentary displeasure, and instead forced a grin on his face.

"Ms. Summers, I presume?" He asked, forcing himself to be charming. Although she nodded politely, Elizabeth found that there was something about this man that she didn't like. His smile was more like a leer, and Elizabeth had always despised lecherous old men. "Forgive my intrusion. Lt. Burbank," he said, bowing gallantly.

"Elizabeth Summers" she responded, dipping into a slight curtsy. After all, disliking the man was hardly reason enough to forget manners. "And this is Elia-"

"-Yes yes," Burbank said, dismissing her words with a wave. "Ms. Summers, it pains me to have to remind you that, as a prisoner, your leisure time is to remain at a minimum. With all the patients here in this tent I hardly think it fitting that you allow a single one to monopolize your time."

"Sir, I was just changing his-" Elizabeth began, shocked by the man's audacity.

"If you feel that you are not up to the task, or that there is not quite enough work here to keep you busy, then I can easily change your situation. Are we clear?" He asked, staring her down, wordlessly daring her to challenge his comments. The young woman held his gaze though.

"Lieutenant, I can forgive your misunderstanding quite easily, for you spend little time in this hospital tent to be aware of the workload, or of the actions of its staff. Although your momentary glimpse into my afternoon has misled you to believe otherwise, there is much to do, and I am very busy doing it. Now if you do not mind, I beg your leave. Perhaps we can continue this conversation when there are not dozens of men lying on their deathbeds." She said quickly, her barbed words issued with a smile. Burbank stepped towards her, and then smiled.

"My dear, it seems that the rain has dampened your spirits, as well as your senses. What a fiery little temper you have there." he mused. When he continued, his voice was low enough so that no one else could hear, and his tone was far from friendly. "You are the one who seems to be misled. Watch your tongue, or you may find your current situation can change quite drastically." He reached up a hand and grasped her chin. Although from a distance, the contact may have seemed innocent enough, Elizabeth felt his fingers biting into the the softness of her throat. "Chin up my dear, things could be worse," he said with an acidic smile. Then, as quickly as he had approached, he spun on his heel and strode out.

Elizabeth stood straight as a rail, unmoving, until the older officer had left them.

"Elizabeth?" Eli asked, confusion marring his youthful face. Elizabeth remained silent for a moment, willing the anger to dissipate. When she finally had herself back under control, she turned to the patient with a bitter smile plastered on her face.

"And to think you were worried about things being dull here in the tent..." she said, her tone slowly lightening. "It appears I am not so good at making friends as I once was."

Eli only looked at her with worry though, failing to see the humor in the situation. "What did he whisper to you?" Elizabeth shook her head though, unwilling to involve the boy in her problems.

"Nothin in particular. Never mind my problems though. I want you to try sitting up on your own in the next few days, ok?" Elizabeth said, changing the subject. Recognizing her unwillingness to speak about the confrontation, Eli relented.

"Just be careful around him, please?" he asked softly. Elizabeth smiled at the boy fondly. Although he was still young, experience had wizened him beyond his years. She nodded, leaned forward to ruffle his hair gently, then stood.

"I will. Now I am going to see to some other patients, and I will come back and check on you in a while. Try to get some rest." She stated. The young soldier obliged, closing his eyes. With a sad smile, Elizabeth watched him for a moment, and then walked to the next patient.

"That bastard..." Elizabeth growled under her breath. She glared at the knot that she had clumsily created while attempting to tie off a bandage...for the second time now. Flustered, she worked the knot loose and began again, willing her mind to remain focused on the task at hand. "I swear I could kill him for this" she muttered angrily as her fingers tripped over eachother.

Into the evening hours, Elizabeth had been expecting William to sneak up at any point in time and demand an audience. She dreaded the meeting, and yet, the longer that she had to wait to get it over with, the more apprehensive she grew. She had been sorely tempted to march over to his tent and get it over with, but she didn't want to give him the impression that he affected her so.

"There" she said, more to herself than to the unconscious young man whose bandaging she had just completed. She glared at the lopsided knot, forcing down the scream of frustration that even now rose in her throat.

"Ms. Summers, please come with us" came a voice from directly behind her. Spinning around, startled, Elizabeth looked at the two unfamiliar soldiers warily. "Major Chapman has requested that you be brought to him." Elizabeth bristled at their word choice.

"Major Chapman...brought to him?? You can tell Major Chapman that he can-" Elizabeth began, her voice rising. A gentle cough from behind her shut her up. When she looked over her shoulder, she met the kind eyes of the Doctor.

"Please, can we take this outside perhaps? Many of the men have finally fallen asleep, and they need their strength," he soothed, his words meant more to beg Elizabeth to take care than to chastise anyone.

Heeding his unspoken warning, Elizabeth relented.

"By all means gentleman, 'bring' away" she said sarcastically, but much softer. The two young soldiers merely glanced at eachother.

"This way, ma'am." One of them bravely spoke up, but was silenced by an icy glare from the young woman.

"If any of ya'll call me ma'am one more time...exactly how old do you think I am?" she asked, slightly offended.The two men looked at her with stricken expressions. When one of them opened his mouth to respond, Elizabeth silenced him with a shake of her head. "Nevermind, please don't answer that. You must excuse me, I do not mean to be so rude but I have had a long day, and all that I want more than anything in the world is a warm bath and a soft bed and...I'm rambling...so I'm going to stop talking now." She trailed off. She saw the two men give eachother a look that clearly told her that they thought she was a bit off in the head, but by this point she was too nervous to care. She followed them across the camp, silent and docile.

After a few minutes, they reached a tent toward the outskirts of the encampment. Her guides paused, and waited with her. Moments later, William approached, and the two young men straightened up, standing at attention.

"Thank you soldiers, I-" William began, but was cut off when Elizabeth spoke up.

You have some nerve, you realize that? How dare you treat me like a child, when I saved your life? You think you can push people around just because of your rank, well I do hate to disappoint you but I am not one of your little soldiers!" Elizabeth shouted, stress overcoming her better judgement, placing her hands angrily on her slender hips. The two young men were startled at her outburst, and stared at her in something akin to horror.

"I should say not" came William's nonchalant reply.

"Well good. I expect not to be ordered around like a child!" Elizabeth shouted with finality in her voice. William only smiled once again though, and took a step towards her.

"Well that is where you and I disagree. You are correct in that you are not one of my soldiers, but for all purposes, you are still a captive." William said smoothly, his eyes flashing yet his tone casual.

"How dare you!" she cried, lunging at him. One of the soldiers quickly grabbed her right arm, while the other took a hold of her left. Struggling violently, Elizabeth cried out at him. "You son of a-" William held his hand up, effectively silencing her.

"Enough of your outbursts Ms. Summers. I will have you restrained and beaten if that is what it takes to finally teach you your place."

"I have told you before, just kill me already. Why toy with me, you sick bastard. I-" She nearly cried out when one of the men wrenched her arm further behind her back, ending her tirade. A tear trickled down her cheek, and Elizabeth looked miserably at her feet.

"Gentlemen, bring her into my tent. I wish to have a few private words with Ms. Summers." William said, his voice cold and emotionless. The two men nodded quickly, and yanked the angry young woman into the tent, depositing her unceremoniously on the floor. Still seething but too tired to physically fight back, Elizabeth sat silently.

She heard William dismiss the men, and then heard the soft rustle of canvas when the two left from the tent. William entered, lighting an additional lantern in the corner, and turned towards his desk. He unbuttoned his shirt in an attempt to cool off, but the sultry heat of the night gave little relief. Instead, he turned towards the young woman who sat on the floor of his tent.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself for what was still to come, Elizabeth lifted her gaze and met William's gaze. Given the dim lighting, Eliabeth's eyes too a moment to adjust to the darkness inside of the tent. As he moved towards her, out of the shadow, the soft light from the small lantern played across his chest and stomach, making his skin glow like polished gold. When he leaned down towards her, Elizabeth closed her eyes and waited for his fury to come.

"Elizabeth," he whispered softly, extending an open hand down towards her. Wary, Elizabeth took his hand and was lifted to her feet. "Follow me" he said gently, pulling a clean linen shirt on and moving towards the back of the tent. When he raised a panel, and motioned for her to follow him out the back of the tent towards the dark woods, she hesitated, fear in her eyes.

"No" she said quietly, her back rigid. The many possible reasons that he had for sneaking her off into the dark woods ran through her mind, and none of them were pleasant.

"Elizabeth, if I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so here in this tent. Will you please come with me?" He asked this time, his azure eyes begging her to comply.

She watched him carefully, as she pondered his words. She decided that he was right, that walking in the woods with him could pose no more threat to her than remaining here in his tent. In fact, her odds were probably safer further away from the hundreds of confederate soldiers who slept just outside of the tent in which they now stood. Or so she told herself when she raised her chin and followed him out of the tent and into the darkness.

Once outside, William held up the lantern and entered the woods, staying on a small path. Because they walked in silence, Elizabeth was able to watch William carefully.

He walked with his head held high, which gave him an air of an almost boyish cockiness. His chin was set stubbornly, and yet his face looked almost peaceful, relaxed. His long legs were capable of covering distance quickly, but his slow gait told her that he was enjoying the process of getting to wherever they were going. He moved easily in the darkness, his steps both purposeful and silent. It was his hands that told her the most though. She had studied them while he lay unconscious back at her home, sick with infection. They were strong hands, scarred from hard work, but not calloused like a farm hand. Even when he had grasped at her, delirious with fever, they were gentle, soft almost. When he had traced the skin around her throat...No, she thought. Don't think about that.

When she jerked herself away from her thoughts, she realized that they had reached the river. Although the water was still high, the current had slowed and the river had receeded back within the safety of its banks. The air was cool, slightly damp from the remnants of the storm. Glancing up, Elizabeth saw the outline of the moon peeking out from behind some clouds. As the clouds swept away, the sliver light danced through the branches of the trees to sparkle off the gentle lapping waves of the water.

"Beautiful, isnt it." William said, setting the lantern on the ground and taking a seat on a large rock near the water's edge. Not sure how to respond, Elizabeth remained silent. She recalled the last time that they had spoken during the night like this, next to a different river, during a different time. She thought back on his words.

In the fight, you kill men that, had there been no war, could have been your friends. You march until your feet blister in the heat, and then huddle together around a dying fire to shield away the cold. If the fighting doesnt kill you, the infection might, the disease might. Everyone looks like a hero holdng a rifle and advancing into battle, but it is when they fall that you see the fear, the youth being stripped away from them as they bleed to death on a muddy battlefield. There is nothing heroic about a soldier when he lies on the ground, crying, knowing that he'll never see home again. It is those sights that age a man. Matthew's too young for that."

"Is that what haunts you?"

"The demons I carry are far worse than that. You would be best to keep that in mind."

"I hate this, you know." William said quietly, staring out over the water.

"You were the one that wanted to talk" Elizabeth said, knowing that William was speaking of deeper things. She was unwilling to admit that she knew exactly how he felt. He was unfazed though, and ignored her statement.

"I used to enjoy moments like this: quiet, calm. They relaxed me, refreshed me. Now whenever I sit still I am reminded how close that the war is. I spend so much time wishing that the moment would last that before I know it, its gone, and I have used it all up with worry or fear or anger." He reached down and absentmindedly picked up a stone, which he threw into the water. Elizabeth watched as the ripples spread outward before being overcome by the slow current. She took a deep breat and leaned against a tree trunk.

"I guess I never recognized just how close that this war was. When my older brother left to go fight, it was this distant thing. Now it seems like its everywhere." Elizabeth said, her voice beginning to waver as she spoke with complete honesty for the first time in what felt like months. "We had thought that this would be a quick fight, that it would all be over and the South would be free, and that things could just go back to normal, that our boys would come home. Now its two years later, and the war is raging in our own backyards." A lone tear slid down her cheek."There is a big part of me that keeps thinking that I will just wake up, and this will all be over."

"Elizabeth, I wish I had never dragged you into this, I wish more than ever that I could take you home," came William's voice from beside her. She looked up to find the soldier standing next to her. Silently cursing his abiltiy to move so quietly, Elizabeth straightened and faced him, her green eyes flashing with anger.

"How dare you? You kill my family, you drag me from my home, and now you say you wish you hadn't done it?" She raged, bitter tears flowing from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how I could every explain to you how sorry I am..." William placed a hand on her shoulder, but Elizabeth violently shook him off, and struck out at him.

"Liar! You murdered them, murdered my family!" She cried, and shoved him back. "I want you to take me home, I want to go home!" She cried.

"It's not safe there, Elizabeth." he said, trying to sooth her. "The Union will be marching on Richmond, the city isn't likely to survive the attack. You can't be there when that happens. You could be killed" he explained, compassion and pity in his eyes. That only infuriated the young woman more though.

"What do you care?! You've taken everything from me." Elizabeth sank to her knees. "I dont care if I die!" She cried weakly.

"But I do."

Elizabeth looked up as William knelt beside her, her tearful green eyes meeting his clear blue gaze. Something inside of her broke, and she could no longer hold the tears in. Her body wracked in silent sobs as the tears flowed from her eyes. Her body shuddered, and all of the strength went out of her. William's arms came around her, supporting her. Although she put her hands on his chest to shove him away, the gentle contact was too inviting. Instead, she slid her arms around his neck and buried her head on his shoulder as she let the tears come.

Somewhere deep inside, she still recalled the words that they had exchanged near the river the night before this all began. Although she wasn't ready to accept it yet, she somehow knew that nothing that had happened was his choice, that perhaps his apology was real. All that she knew was that she desperately needed his soothing touch.

"Shh" William soothed, his lips finding her forehead. He kissed her tearstained cheeks gently, whispering words of comfort against her cheek. Neither of them knew what had happened, but suddenly their lips were fused. William drank in her kiss, as Elizabeth clung to him like her life depended upon it. He reached a hand up and cupped her face, tilting her chin to allow him better access.

Never before had Elizabeth experienced this. She felt as if she were melting into his embrace. His touch thrilled her, and his kiss enflamed her. It was like she was awakening for the first time. She opened her lips to him, arching her back into him.

William moaned, wishing more than ever that he could take her right there, along the riverbank. Although he was aching to touch her, he knew that to do so could frighten her again. As his emotions waged war within him, William slowly became aware of a voice calling out.

"Major Chapman?"

Elizabeth sat back quickly, her lips swollen from his kiss. With wide-eyed fear she scrambled to her feet, looking in the direction from which the voice came. Shaking with the power of the conflicting emotions that raced through her mind, she gripped onto the tree for security as William stood.

"I'll take you back to your tent, then I'll go see what they want." Elizabeth nodded mutely, unable to speak. William lifted the lantern, and took her by her arm, guiding her gently back towards her tent.

They soon reached the tent, without having said anything to eachother. Elizabeth turned towards the entrance of her tent, her mind still racing. She stopped though when she realized that William, despite reaching their destination, had not yet let go of her arm. Elizabeth ooked up at him, her eyes questioning. William leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, lingered there a moment, then abruptly walked off, leaving Elizabeth standing there in confusion.

That was exactly how Rose found her when she turned the corner moments later.

"What happened, lil one?" Rose asked gently as Elizabeth followed her into the tent.

"I am not quite sure..." Elizabeth said slowly, her brow furrowed in thought. "I have no idea."

"I understand you wanted to see me, Sir" William said to General Forrester, who stood over a large map lit by a lantern held by Colonel Markham.

Concern laced his voice, as it was nearing midnight and rarely was he ever summoned to a meeting at this hour. Usually, these late night meetings, though few and far between, meant bad news.

"Ah yes, William my boy." Forrester said, waving William over with a weathered hand. "We've received dispatches from Washington asking that we send our reserve units towards Tennessee, to join up with General William Rosecrans' Army of the Cumberland. They are marching here" he pointed to a spot near Chatanooga, Tennessee. "Contacts have placed a large Confederate force somewhere over here" he motioned to another spot, not far away. "If the two forces meet, there is a chance that the Union troops may be cut off from their counterparts, further north in Virginia. You and I will be taking about 500 men and movin, to make sure that doesn't happen."

William frowned slightly.

"Only 500 sir?" He asked, knowing that there were nearly 1200 soldiers in the area. Forrester nodded.

"That is correct. Lt. Burbank will be taking about 200 up to New York. The President has issued orders that reserve units be moved back into our major cities, due to war protests that are taking place. In an effort to curb the escalating violence, small units have been recalled home until tempers subside. General Fitzwilliam will remain here, within marching distance of Richmond and DC. We are being forced to divide up our numbers."

"Sir, with the scattered Confederate defenses left behind, will 500 be enough should we come across local militia?" William asked, carefully studying the map laid before them.

Although the route to Tennessee was clearly marked on paper, he knew that the mountains and forests through which they would travel were likely pockmarked with enemy troops. Because the rebel troops had the advantage of fighting on their own territory, and that the Union soldiers would be weary from the lengthy march, a meeting of forces, even if equal in size, would place the northerners at a severe disadvantage.

The General looked up at the younger officer, his weathered face weary in the flickering lantern light. "It will have to be, I'm afraid." He glanced back down at the map. "Scouts will be sent ahead, with cavalry flanking our rear. We will travel light and fast, so please select only the fittest and healthiest in your unit. We march in three weeks' time"

"Sir, many of these men are naught but boys. Perhaps if we had more time, more of the Gettysburg wounded will heal." William said, worried about taking so many untried soldiers deeper into the heart of the south. The General shook his head.

"No my boy, we have no choice but to make do. I suggest you begin training with them on the morrow."

William saw his own emotions, the same reservations, echoed on the face of his commander. This was war, he supposed, not best-case scenario.

"Yes sir" he answered, nodding in deference, and then stepping back outside into the night.

He wandered for a moment, considering the information that he had just received. When he looked up, finally breaking his concentration, he realized that he had stopped only feet from the entrance to Elizabeth's tent.

Taking a deep breath and running a shaky hand through his hair, he was struck for a moment by concern for the young woman. He knew she belonged here, further away from the battles, yet a part of him was already aching with the thought of absence.

Pull yourself together he though bitterly, kicking a stone in frustration. She wont give a damn that you've gone.

As frustrated as he was at the though of her indifference, he was even more frustrated at his own reaction to that perceived indifference: it hurt him.

He walked off brusquely, angry at himself for having bevome so vulnerable. Heaven help him, but he was falling for her, and he feared her rejection more than he feared marching back into the war itself.

---

He scared her.

That was the only decent explanation that Elizabeth could come up with that explained why she was always on edge around William. She must be afraid of him.

He scares me, he scares me, he scares me...

"Who scares you?" came Rose's soft, rich voice from the pallet nearby. Startled, Elizabeth hadn't even realized that she had been saying it out loud.

"No one" came her reply, but even her voice lacked conviction. "Good night Rose" she said quietly, but sternly enough that the older woman asked no questions, merely responded in the same manner.

Elizabeth turned over in her makeshift cot, and noisily settled in to the blanket, feigning exhaustion. Her mind was racing though.

It would only make sense that he scared her.

But why? What has he done to give me any reason to fear him?

He killed her family. She thought bitterly on that, trying to summon up the hate needed to harden her heart. But that hatred that she had so fiercly held on to while watching her famiy's home burn never came.

He was following orders.

But he didn't have to obey them!

Even as she tried to convince herself, Elizabeth knew what happened to disobedient soldiers. They couldn't return to their camp, for fear of the firsce retribution. No, they were branded as deserters. There were stories of the Home Guard, left behind to "protect" towns even from soldiers trying to flee the horror of the war for the comforting embrace of their loved ones. Instead, those men came home to the cold and loveless embrace of the noose, their desertion treated as a crime equal to murder or rape.

Murder.

What about little Matthew though, was that following orders?

William wasn't the one who killed him, he had no control over that.

He had taken her from her home!

But was there anything left of that home remaining?

Not anymore, thanks to him.

But with the entire Union army advancing on Richmond, how much longer would I really have had? Days? Months?

Better freedom than captivity though.

But how many captives are given the freedom that I have? Elizabeth wasn't exactly being starved, mishandled, or tortured. Instead she was treated as any one of the medical staff, was given food, clothing, shelter...



It was quickly becoming clear to troubled young woman that, although she still harbored some negative feelings towards the officer, he had not given her any reason to fear him. None since they had arrived here at camp, No, she was not afraid of him.

So why did she find her pulse rising when he was near? Why did her thoughts seem to tangle themselves so that her normally quick and sarcastic comments were reduced to clumsily stubborn complaints? She behaved irratically, impatiently, she stumbled, she stuttered, she blushed... oh my God.

Elizabeth stuffed her fisted hand against her mouth to keep from crying out at the revelation threatened to shatter her.

I'm falling in love with him.

A few weeks later...



Elizabeth was out of bed and dressed before the sun had even risen. Wringing her hands in her skirts, she hurried to the hospital tent, ducking her head in hopes of traveling through the camp without notice. She hadn't spoken to William since the night by the river. She'd only seen him briefly in between the increasingly more frequent training exercises he worked on with his men. Perhaps he was avoiding her. Maybe she was avoiding him.

Her back and neck were stiff from all the sleepless tossing and turning she had done over the last few nights, which only added to the already irritable mood she was in. When she arrived in the hospital tent, it was to a flurry of activity. The doctor was moving from patient to patient, while men who had previously been lying in makeshift beds were now up and stumbling about. Elizabeth, recovering from her initial surprise, asked the nearest soldier what was going on.

"Seems everyone has received their marching orders ma'am. We have several platoons departing early tomorrow morning, and many of those able to walk will be going with. Excuse me ma'am" he inclined his head politely, and went on his way.

"Miss, would you mind just tying this a bit tighter for me? I can't quite manage..." came a voice from beside her. Elizabeth turned to see a middle-aged soldier struggling to single-handedly tie a bandage on his injured right wrist. She began to secure the tie, but remembering that she had only stitched up the gash a few days beforehand, she tried to guide the man to take a seat.

"I really should have a look to see how this is healing" she began, reaching to untie the bandage once more. The soldier gently pried his wounded hand from her grip.

"I thank you for your help ma'am, but I must be going"

"No really, I do insist. I must check for signs of infection." She said, setting her jaw stubbornly and reaching for the man's arm. He continued to move away from her.

"'Tis fine. Doc already looked it over. We train in one hour's time, so if you don't mind, I really do need to be moving." He said kindly, recognizing the girl's concern for his injury but also trying to avoid further delay.

A sharp voice from behind the man startled the both of them.

"Young lady, if you do not unhand that soldier I will have you forcibly removed from the tent." Burbank said coolly. Elizabeth cheeks turned pink, and she shot a murderous glare in his direction. She nearly took a step backwards when she met his steely gaze.

"Forgive me for my concern of the well-being of your soldiers, Lieutenant" she ground out through clenched teeth.

"Do not overstep your boundaries here. We have physicians to serve that purpose." He looked Elizabeth over head to toe, his cold eyes sending shivers down her spine, and infuriating the young woman further.

"Even physicians can do little once infection sets in. However, it does not even take a trained hand to clean a wound." Elizabeth snapped back, her back rigid and her hands stiff at her sides. The leer he gave her had them forming fists.

"Despite your intentions, whatever they may be, I suggest you keep your 'trained' hands away from me and my soldiers. Save your touch for the whorehouses, there should be many of them left by the end of this war" his voice was cruel, his words like daggers. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, her temper took over.

"Lucky for you that no amount of money could ever convince me to place my 'trained' hands on you" she practically spat. Hoping that the rumors she had been hearing were true, she continued. "Then again, that hardly seems to matter. I hear they trust you so little that while others move to the frontlines to fight for their cause, you are being sent home to play nursemaid to the mobs. Retirement, perhaps?"

His reaction confirmed the hospital tent gossip. Burbank's face turned a violent shade of red, and his fists clenched.

"You know nothing, you little confederate whore" he raged, taking a threatening step towards her. Elizabeth , fueled by her intense dislike of the man in front of her, and feeling much like a cornered wildcat, lashed out.

"Save your insults for someone who gives a damn. Follow your orders and go home, old man" she said icily. Before she could even react though, Burbank struck out, catching her square on the side of her face. With a soft cry, Elizabeth was thrown to the ground, and laid there, unmoving.

Eli called out, and struggled to try to sit up on his cot, but was silenced by the murderous look in the older officer's face. Everything went silent in the tent as the Lieutenant stood over the young woman's motionless form. After a moment of awkward silence, Burbank spoke up.

"Leave this rebel garbage on the ground where she belongs. When she wakes up, I want her brought to me, understand?" He said, his voice low, and still hoarse with rage. Soldiers watched wide-eyed, nodding their head mutely as he met their gazes before storming out.

"Elizabeth!" Eli called out, grabbing a hold of the makeshift crutch left next to his bed, and pulled himself into a standing position.

"You heard what he said, leave her be!" hissed a soldier on the cot next to his. The boy shot him a withering glance.

"The Lieutenant's gone. He's not coming back anytime soon" Eli gritted out as he hopped along using his crutch as a second leg, as he had been practicing. He reached the prone woman at the same time as the Doctor, who knelt beside her. As Eli watched, the Doctor reached beneath Elizabeth's back and slowly lifted her into a sitting position. Sure enough, the movement roused her.

Her eyelids slowly, painfully fluttered open, and for a moment, she sat quietly, testing the movement of her jaw. She could feel a knot forming, and was sure that a bruise was already blooming on her cheek.

"Elizabeth, are you ok? Please say something." Eli said, his voice, although bordering on the low timbres of manhood, suddenly sounded quite young.

"Hell and damnation, that hurt" she said, her voice still tight with pain. The doctor merely laughed softly at the shocked look on the boy's face, and helped Elizabeth climb shakily to her feet.

"Has the world stopped spinning yet?" the Doctor asked, gently examining the spot where she had been hit. Tilting her head to give him better access, Elizabeth nodded.

"Startin' to." She winced as his fingers probed a particularly tender spot. "I guess I kind of deserved that one." she grimaced, standing up straighter and waving the Doctor's hand away. Although the older gentleman only gave her a wizened smile, Eli shook his head vehemently.

"My father always told me there was never any excuse to hit a lady, never." he said firmly, leaning heavily on the crutch to stay upright. Elizabeth attempted a weak smile and helped the young man to sit on the nearest cot, recognizing the effort that it was taking his still weakened body to remain standing.

"Well then, it's a good thing for us all that I am hardly a lady," Elizabeth mused, attempting to change the subject. The young man wasn't swayed though.

"Every woman is to be treated like a lady," he stated adamantly. Elizabeth smiled, this time for real.

"And here I thought that only southern gentleman knew that. Perhaps there is hope for this god-forsaken country after all."

Realizing that the young woman was fine if she was able to find humor in the situation, the Doctor gathered up some fresh bandages in his arm and prepared to make another round.

"If all of my patients were as resilient after a hit like that, I wouldn't have nearly so much work to do. Unfortunately, these soldiers demand my constant attention and so I must beg your leave, my lady" he said, inclining his head with a teasing wink before going. Elizabeth laughed lightly, but found her humor short lived at a male voice from behind her.

"Who got hit?" came Bryant's voice. Elizabeth stiffened, and busied herself with checking Eli's bandages.

"Elizabeth did. That cranky Lieutenant was picking on her, but she gave him a regular tongue lashing." Eliexplained quickly. She quickly looked up at Eli, glaring at him. Because her back was turned to him, Bryant didn't see the look she gave the younger man.

"He struck you?" Elizabeth nodded in reply, but kept her head down, pretending to be immensely interested in the knot she had just tied.

"Knocked her out cold." Came Eli's quick reply, earning him another glare from the young woman standing in front of him. He only shrugged his shoulders and grinned sheepishly.

"Where did he hit you?" Bryant asked, trying to take a look at Elizabeth's face. She kept her head down though, and turned the injured side of her face away.

"He didn't really knock me out, it wasn't much of a hit. There really isn't anything to see," she mumbled quickly. Eli shook his head though.

"That's not- ouch!" Eli cried out slightly as Elizabeth pinched his good knee.

"Damnit Elias, why don't you tell the whole damn world my business?" She ground out softly, loud enough for only the boy to hear, still tinkering with the bandage.

"It's tied just fine. And I'm not telling the whole world, just my brother. He won't say anything." Eli said quickly, brushing Elizabeth's hands away.

"Your brother?!" Elizabeth quickly spun to look at Bryant, surprised that she had never before noticed any family resemblance. Although Eli smiled at her abrupt reaction, Bryant's eyes widened in shock.

"Good Lord, look at your face!" He said, reaching out a hand to brush her hair away from the bruise that was already darkening her delicate features. Elizabeth tried to push his hand away, but the man was not to be deterred. He hissed as he saw the extent of the injury.

"That must hurt something fierce!"

"It's not as bad as it looks, really." She said, finally allowing him to examine her face. "I've been hit harder before," she lied, knowing that her entire face would be black and blue by the next morning.

"Has William seen this yet?" Bryant asked, dreading the reaction of his commanding officer. Although it seemed to onlookers that William had been avoiding the young woman over the past few weeks, he suspected that the woman had come to mean more to the Major than he was comfortable admitting. Despite William Chapman's attempts to seem totally disinterested, Bryant knew that the sight of her injury would likely ignite his explosive temper. The fact that her attacker had been the Major's senior officer made the situation even more tenuous.

"No, and I thank you not to go runnin' your mouth either. It's none of his business. I am a big girl and can handle my own problems." Elizabeth snapped a towel into the side of the cot on which Eli sat, causing him to jump slightly. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth strode off, muttering to herself.

"That one has a strong backbone. I hope that Lieutenant leaves her alone, she's likely to take his head off if he comes around again." Eli said, watching Elizabeth as she bustled around some other patients, sending them looks that made it quite clear they were not to even so much as comment about the bruise on her face.

"Do me a favor and keep your distance from 'that Lieutenant'. Burbank is not someone to be taken lightly, and I fear Elizabeth has managed to push him too far." Bryant warned his younger brother, who looked back at him with concern.

"Will he hurt Elizabeth?" Bryant could only shrug.

"I know not, but since he is leaving in a few days she will hopefully have the sense to steer clear. It seems that girl is more trouble than she's worth" he said, shaking his head.

"Speaking of which, the Major has informed me that we will be marching out in three

day's time." Bryant said, resting a gentle hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"I figured as much, with you all training so hard over these last two weeks." Eli answered, his shoulders slumping. Bryant felt a pang of guilt, knowing that his brother was still struggling to cope with his disfigurement. Without physical activity to keep him busy, the boy had come to rely on his visits from the Doctor, Elizabeth, and his brother. Although Bryant had watched Eli slip into a depression after the amputation of his leg, he couldn't help but notice that the boy's naturally sunny demeanor was slowly returning. After having seen his brother's protective tendency with the young nurse, Bryant attributed much of his recovery to her company, and felt relieved that she would be remaining here at the encampment with him.

"Well, we knew that orders would be coming at some point. Can wait around here all winter." Bryant said carelessly, hoping his brother would adopt the same nonchalance. Although by now he was painfully aware of the risks involved in battle, Eli took a deep breath and forced the fear from his voice.

"Yes, well, I suppose you should try to put that West Point Education to use at some time or another." He began fidgeting with the hem of his cutoff shorts, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the situation. Equally as uncomfortable with the silence, Bryant spoke up.

"Well, I better be on my way. I've still got a lot of work to do before the afternoon is through. You take care Elias." He nodded his goodbye to Eli, who did the same, and then exited the tent.

Eli sat there for a moment, watching the doorway through which his older brother had just exited, before taking a deep breath and sliding off the cot until he stood upright. As he began practicing keeping his balance while walking with the crutsh, he couldn't help feeling phantom pains from where his leg should have been.

It was nearly evening when Elizabeth exited her tent. Although she had tried to perform her usual rounds in the medical tent after her discussion with Liam and Bryant, the Doctor sought her out. Once the older gentleman had pulled her aside, he explained that, before exiting the hospital tent, Lieutenant Burbank had demanded that she be brought to him once she had awoken. In hushed tones, the Doctor gently suggested that she do her best to make herself scarce, at least until Burbank had departed the camp for New York. Due to her blinding headache and bruised pride, Elizabeth had meekly agreed, hardly relishing the idea of Accepting the large pile of clothes the Doctor had handed to her to mend, Elizabeth had taken them back to her tent to sew.

Now, just prior to dinner after an entire day of tedious mending, Elizabeth hoped that the encroaching dusk would help her maintain anonymity while she stretched her legs a bit, glad to be free of the dark tent. She wasn't sure when exactly Lt. Burbank was due to depart, but she didn't want to press her luck. Stretching out her arms, she swept her sunbleached hair over one shoulder, and looked around to be sure that the coast was clear before making her way to the wood path that would lead her to the river.

She took slow deep breaths as she walked, relishing the cool breeze that drifted through the trees. The air should have refreshed her, but instead Elizabeth jumped at every noise, her mind convincing her that Burbank waited behind every bush, in every shadow. Finally reaching the bank, the young woman removed her apron and set it upon the ground. Moving forward towards the water, she bent over and quickly selected a large smooth stone from the riverbed. Wiping it off with her skirts, she returned to the spot where she had set the apron. She took one long look around her to be sure that she wasn't followed, and then finally eased herself down, trying not to jar her upper body. Although the altercation had taken place hours ago, it seemed that the constant ache in her cheek had worsened, the pain further tangling her already tumultuous thoughts. I should have known better, she thought bitterly, lifting the cool stone to her sore face. Although the pressure initially caused her to gasp sharply, it was only moments until the stone was drawing out the heat from her aching cheek. Elizabeth closed her eyes, breathing in the cool river air and relaxing as the soft sounds of the night soothed and comforted.

***

Bryant was sitting by the side of the small fire cleaning off his horse's tack when his commanding officer walked up.

"Sir" he nodded deferentially, but his tone was casual, greeting his friend. William sat down next to him and laughed lightly.

"With the hours we put in today, I think we are allowed to forego some chores for tonight. Come on, that bridle is clean enough already, you can leave it until tomorrow." He said quietly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small tin. Bryant reached over to hang his bridle on the nail sticking out from the post in front of the tent, and then turned back to his friend.

"Been hoarding the good stuff, I see?" Bryant teased, watching William roll a cigarette from the dried tobacco he had pulled from the tin. William only smiled, passing the tin to Bryant, who helped himself. The two men sat companionably in silence for a moment once their cigarettes were lit, savoring the rich sweet aroma of the tobacco smoke, feeling as the last bit of tension seeped from their bodies, both sore from the intense training from the past week. After a few minutes, William spoke up.

"We will be riding off tomorrow afternoon, as the weather begins to cool. I suggest you try to wrap up any unfinished business tonight, as I will need your help tomorrow with the men. We've got a lot of first-timers" he said, wistfully referring to the young enlisted men, eager but untrained, and hardly prepared for the battles they would no doubt fight along the way to their destination. Bryant nodded, and then paused for a moment, considering his next words.

"Speaking of unfinished business, Elizabeth..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue, how to say it in a way that wouldn't send William after Burbank. William's eyes locked on Bryant at the sound of her name, an mild jealousy gripping him momentarily. For a few seconds, William grit his teeth to force the unwelcome emotion back--this was Bryant afterall-- before speaking.

"What about her?" he inquired, his voice forcefully light and even. Unfortunately, knowing the Major as well as he did, Bryant immediately saw the tension in William's jaw, and decided to proceed more tactfully.

"You should speak to her, before we go. With only my brother's poor person to keep her company, I think she seems a bit lonely." He said slowly. William quirked an eyebrow.

"Have you gone daft? Since when did you give a damn about what that woman felt?" He asked, not suspicious, but rather amused. Bryant fidgeted with the cigarette, rolling it between two fingers.

"She's not so bad. A hell of a rider, for a woman." Bryant shrugged, trying to appear casual.

"Then leave her to her horses" William snorted, taking another long drag off the cigarette in his hand. Bryant could see that bringing up the topic without alarming the other man would not be an easy task. He sighed and tried again.

"Well. we'll be going for a while, and its best if she knows that its safer for her to remain here in camp...and to not cause problems for those left in charge" Bryant said, gazing into the fire.

"Sure, because she has listened to me so well thus far." Clearly William wasn't buying Bryant's lame explanation. "What the hell is going on, whay are you pushing me to speak with her?" He asked in mild aggravation.

"She and Burbank had words in the tent this morning..." William shot up at the older Lieutenant's name, a scowl marring his face. "I posted a man outside her tent, she's fine. I just think she could use some company" he said, recognizing the concern in the other man's eyes.

"Did that sonofabitch hurt her?" William growled out. Bryant held his hands up.

"That woman is made of steel with a stubborn streak a mile wide, she'd never admit anything to me. You'd best ask her." He said, nodding his head towards the river path. William stood rail straight for a minute, his hands fisted. "You might want to take the long route, relax first" Bryant suggested, hoping William would calm down a bit before approaching the woman. He had seen enough of Elizabeth's temper to know that William's anger would only fuel her own, and it was only a matter of time until one of them ended up burned.

"Very well." William said softly. "I am going for a walk." He straightened his shoulders, stomped out his cigarette, and walked off towards the woods.As Bryant watched his friend leave, he couldnt help but think that, had this been another place or another time, any circumstances other than these, that William might have met his equal in that feisty young woman.


***

"Elizabeth?" William called out as he reached the riverbank, glancing around. Out of the shadows she rose, a graceful spectre in the fading light.

"Am I not to have any peace tonight?" She asked, looking upwards to the heavens in exasparation, but without any real heat in her words. She wisely kept her injured cheek to the darkness of the woods, so that the bruise wouldn't be visible.

"I heard you had an altercation with a Lieutenant this morning?" He asked, his voice stern and his facial expression grave. Elizabeth only rolled her eyes in response.

"Amazing. Men killed in battle every day and your concerned over a petty spat?" Elizabeth said derisively.

"So that was it, a petty spat?" William asked, trying to read her but with no luck. Elizabeth shrugged.

"So sorry to disappoint." She snorted.

"Miss High-and-Mighty just couldn't hold her tongue. Christ woman, you have issues, you realize that? You really need to learn your place" Not to be baited, Elizabeth laughed at him.

"That's not the first time I've heard that suggested today. Are you done lecturing yet? I would rather simply be sent to bed without my supper if you please" She said, placing a hand on her hip. William sighed and threw his hands up.

"I surrender. Can we try to have a civil conversation? Between two adults?" He asked, without anger. Unable to control her aggravation, Elizabeth rolled her eyes again.

"Oh right, I forgot. Its not like I am your prisoner or anything...oh wait, I am!" She spat, annoyed with herself for her unexplained anger towards William. All the frustration that had been pent up during the day was working its way out, and the young woman was only getting started.

"Elizabeth..." William said softly, looking at her sternly like he would at a misbehaving child. Elizabeth shot him a withering glance, and huffed, crossing her arms.

"Oh don't 'Elizabeth' me, you--" Just then a night bird took off from a nearby tree, sending a small branch to the ground. At the crunch of leaves, Elizabeth whipped around, fear gripping her at the thought that someone was approaching. William saw the look of fright that passed over her face, suprised at her reaction. He squinted and looked closer when he noticed a small bump on her cheekbone, hidden by shadows.

Elizabeth looked back at him, ready to continue her tirade but stopped as she saw the strange look in William's eyes. She saw him squint, trying to get a better look at her cheel The moment he began to reach out his hand towards her face, she turned to bolt back towards the camp.

William couldn't be sure, but he thought something was slightly wrong with the side of Elizabeth's face. Although it had been half-hidden in the shadows, he thought he had caught a glimpse of a mark, but he couldn't be sure. When she tried to suddenly leave, he instinctively grabbed her wrist in an attempt to pull her out of the shadows, closer towards him so that he could see her face more clearly.

Elizabeth wasn't about to let him get a good look at her injury. She had been mortified enough to be knocked unconscious in front of Eli, Bryant, and the hospital patients, but she was not about to appear weak or helpless in front of William, not again.

"Get your hands off of me!" She cried, glaring at him. Taken off guard by the fury in the woman's voice, William released her hand.

"You've touched me against my will before, but don't expect it to happen again" she whispered angrily. "You-"

The fury that flashed in his suddenly cold blue eyes chilled her through, and quickly shut her up. He knew exactly where this conversation was going.

"Don't you dare suggest that what's transpired between us has been against your will. You were a willing participant!" He growled, advancing on her. "I'd never hurt a woman". Elizabeth held her ground, but prayed that he wouldn't come near enough to see the damage done by Burbank's fist. She decided that she had had enough embarrassment for one day. Better to be on the offensive than the defensive.

"Oh sure, you wouldn't hurt her, but you have no problem tying her up, kidnapping her, and then holding her captive. I'm just speechless in awe of your moral fortitude" she said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"Well consider yourself un-kidnapped. I leave in the morning with the rest of my men and won't be returning for some time. Once I'm gone, feel free to leave. Nothing is keeping you here. Certainly I won't." Although he said the words with a careless tone, he felt like he was twisting a knife through his own gut. When Elizabeth looked up at him with something akin to horror in her eyes, he had to bite his tongue to refrain from apologizing immediately. He spun on his heel and marched off, willing his legs to carry him away from her as quickly as possible.

As he stormed off, he cursed himself bitterly. Her accusations, though flippantly thrown at him, had hurt, and somehow he couldn't just leave it be. Once he was out of sight of the young woman, his shoulders drooped in defeat and his head hung in shame.

In the morning, he would be marching off to war, a war that he had trained for, a war that he was committed to in every way possible. So why couldn't he shake the feeling that he was running away?



Once he had disappeared into the woods, Elizabeth found herself completely alone in the darkness.

"I'm free" she whispered. As William had stalked off, the importance of his words had struck her. She was no longer a prisoner. William was leaving.

And then the tears came.

After the devastation suffered during the summer of 1863, the fall was a difficult time for both sides. Union troops traveled southward during the cool evenings of September, in response to a desperate plea for reinforcements from Union General William S. Rosecrans. After a painful defeat at Chickamauga, his Army of the Cumberland had retreated into Chattanooga, Tennessee, and was trapped under constant siege from Confederate General Braxton Bragg. Boxed in and running low on reserves, the Cumberland was suffering heavy losses , and the higher-ups in Washington were beginning to fear the worst.

As the weather turned colder, Union reinforcements under the direction of Gen. Ulysses Grant began arriving en masse to provide relief to the beseiged Cumberland Army. By the end of November, Grant drove his army towards the rebel blockades. Crying "Chickamauga, Chickamauga!", Union troops stormed Missionary Ridge intent on removing the rebel forces from the hill where they had been successfully embedded for over a month. When the dust settled, Bragg's defenses were in tatters; the Union had successfully ended the seige and solidified their occupation of Chattanooga.

Over the winter, Grant, in agreement with President Lincoln and General Sherman, devised a strategy that was intent on bringing the South to its knees, thus forcing a surrender. While Major General Banks was instructed to capture Mobile, Alabama, forces under Generals Crook and Averell were ordered to attack railroad lines throughout West Virginia, effectively cutting off supply routes among the Confederate Armies. General Sigel would march on the Shenandoah Valley, and Sherman himself would march into the heart of the confederacy and take Atlanta. Grant, newly elected Commander of the Union Armies, turned his focus on the Confederate capital, and brought troops Eastward to engage Robert E. Lee in Richmond.

Unfortunately for the ambitious Grant, his goal was not easily attained. In May, 1864, the federal armies met in Virginia in the Wilderness, and deadlocked after three days of heavy battle. Although both sides were badly wounded, the Union Army still had reserves left, while Lee had none. Because Grant knew this, he continued to engage Lee at every opportunity. At Spotsylvania, at Cold Harbor, and then again in Petersburg the armies met. Grant had aimed to dislodge Lee's weakening forces and capture the city of Petersburg first, giving him a direct approach to the Capital of the Confederacy, Richmond. Unfortunately for the Union troops, the Rebels were unwilling to go down without a fight. Instead, Lee fortified his defenses and dug in while Grant attacked, retreated, regrouped, and attacked again, a pattern which would ultimately last ten months.

In July of 1864, Lee's cry for reinforcements was met by General Jubal Early, who, in an attempt to split the Union forces by drawing Grant's attention elsewhere, marched his men into Maryland, and prepared to attack Washington, D.C.



***



"The last count is 3 dead, with 4 wounded, only 1 seriously, Sir. All others are accounted for."

William recognized the voice of his second in command as he numbly cleaned the blood off of his sword. He shut his eyes wearily, setting the blade down before him and leaning back against the tree under which he sat.

"Christ, this can't go on" he said softly. Bryant nodded, knowing that nearly a third of the men that they had departed Virginia with the summer before were now dead. He was battle-weary, and knew it had to be worse for William. The young Major had borne the heavy burden of leading them into each skirmish, and fighting shoulder to shoulder with them. He had to force himself to remain positive, to keep up morale at a time that it seemed nearly impossible to wake up each morning. Despite the strength and skill of their platoon, every battle meant more dead. Although William allowed his desperation to show around Bryant, the moment he was in front of the men, he was every inch the commanding officer, spurring them on with word and with deed. Bryant was glad he wasn't in William's shoes.

"We can't flush them out, and they just won't retreat. I feel like we are throwing ourselves up against a brick wall while they work on their target practice." William stared up at the sky, as if in silent prayer. Bryant sat down wearily beside him.

"I wish I were at home. Lord, I dream about those cool summer nights." He slapped at a mosquito that had landed on his arm. "The sun goes down here and I swear it almost gets hotter." He grumbled. William nodded his head, wiping the sweat from his tanned forehead. "Speaking of home, I received a letter from Elias this morning. He sent it about two months ago, but it better than nothing."

"And how is your brother faring?" William asked, still staring at the sky, somewhat bored.

"He traveled to D.C. It appears he was assigned to escort the Doctor and Miss Elizabeth back towards civilization when they closed the field hospital." At the mention of the young woman's name, William immediately sat up straighter.

"Elizabeth, you say? She's in DC?" he asked, suddenly quite interested. Bryant nearly laughed, but wisely kept a straight face.

"Oh yes. Although she wanted to return home, she found the trip through war-torn northern Virginia a bit too intimidating, even for the likes of her."

"Glad the damn female finally learned whats best for her." William growled. Bryant ignored him.

"It seems the good Doctor felt that she needed some relief from the rough lifestyle of the war camps, so he persuaded her to join him in Washington for the while, at least until the fighting subsided. Poor Eli is quite taken with her. I'd wager he'd follow her anywhere." Bryant said, carefully watching William's face.

"Dont know why he'd go and do a foolish thing like that, that woman's a wildcat." William snorted. "An absolute terror. Damn near shocked I didn't throttle her myself. M'surprised her tongue didn't get her into more trouble." William said, picking up a stick and drawing small circles in the sand at his feet.

"I dunno about that. I'd say it definately did, and then some. I personally don't like to see a woman mistreated, but that one incident damn near made me sick" Bryant said, his voice quiet. The circle-drawing ceased, and William sat upright.

"What do you mean, that one incident?" William asked, his voice low and almost fearful.

"That argument with Burbank. I don't like to meddle, but thats why I sent you after her that one night. I've seen full grown men off their feet for a few days after a blow like that." The stick snapped, jarring Bryant's attention. This time, William's voice was deadly.

"A blow like that?" he said slowly. Bryant looked at his friend, and was slightly unnerved at the expression of shock on William's face.

"Christ man, did you see her face? I thought you knew!" He said, slightly aghast. "Burbank all but called her a whore, and she stood up to him. That didn't go over too well with the old devil, and next thing I know she's old cold. Looking at her face, I was afraid he had broken her jaw. Her entire face was black and blue!" Horrified, William's hands formed into fists. Even after ten months apart, the woman was still in his blood, and the thought of her lying on the ground, completely still...he shook his head as it dawned on him.

"I went to see her, but it was already dark. I thought I saw something, but when I grabbed her arm, she lost it. Unfortunatly, bloody fool that I am, I did too." he said. He had lain awake at night, replaying their last conversation in his head, confused at how quickly things between them had gone sour. Now it made sense.

"She's a proud one, thats for sure. She nearly took my head off when I made the mistake of trying to take a look at the injury myself." Bryant said, although he quickly went silent when William began laughing. Laughing!

"God, that she-devil's managed to bewitch me to the point where I can't see straight" he continued to laugh, bitterly. "Here I am, thinking I did something wrong..." he trailed off, his head in his hands. "God what I wouldn't give for a drink."

Bryant nodded, patting his friend on the back. "I'm right there with you friend. Soon as we get home, there are pints at the Corner Tavern with our name on 'em."

"Major?" came a young man's voice from behind them. Both men immediately stood up, brushing off their pants. "Major General Sheriden would like to see you, immediately." As the youth hurried off, Bryant and William looked at each other warily. Why was the cavalry commander requesting their presence this late at night? The news couldn't possibly be good. The two men looked at eachother uneasily, and then strode off towards the Officers' Tent.

***

"Major General Sheridan, I understand you requested my presence?" William said, saluting the other officers in the tent. Despite his own friendly greeting, Sheridan's greeting was grim.

"Major Chapman, I understand that a number of your men are cavalry-trained, is that correct?" William nodded, waiting in silence to hear what was going on. "General Wright, would you care to explain?" He said wearily, as General Horatio Wright stood up. Nodding respectfully to William and Bryant, he motioned the two men near.

"Confederate forces under General Jubal Early have breached our nothern defenses. They've made it through the Valley without opposition, forded the Potomac, and have recently advanced into Maryland. Lew Wallace, located in Frederick with a small force, plans to engage Early sometime in the next few days, but it is not likely that they will succeed." When William looked up at him, curious as to their involvement, General Wright reached up and removed his glasses, wiping a weathered hand across his forehead. He took a deep breath, and replaced his glasses. "Gentlemen, Early is marching on Washington. As most of our army is currently tied up here with Lee, Washington's defenses are weak. We need to march out early tomorrow morning if we hope to catch him. Wallace will delay him, but we have no idea how long. We have a week, maybe only days. I need you to mobilize early tomorrow, and ride hard for Fort Stevens. Grant will send two units of cavalry along with you. I will be right behind you with the VI Corps. I need to know right now if you do not think that you can accomplish this." General Wright stated bluntly.

Elizabeth is in Washington, was all that crossed William's mind. He looked up at General Wright, meeting his gaze and nodding.

"We will be on the road by dawn."

***

"Christ, Will, do you think we can handle this? Washington, for God's sake." Bryant worried, tightening the girth on his mount.

"We will have to. Any victories thus far will mean jack shit if Washington falls. You heard the man, we are the first line of defence. Nothing gets past us. We will get up there and be in position, in case Early gets past Wallace."

"Come on William, you and I both know that Wallace's men have been sitting around all winter. They don't have a shot in hell of holding back a confederate assault!" Bryant said, angrily adjusting his saddlebags. William only shrugged his shoulders, nonplussed by his comrade's show of anger.

"We don't have a choice mate, we go. We don't have the option of failure. If for some reason you don't think you can handle it, tell me right now. Otherwise, I will assume that I have your full and complete support."

Bryant looked at his commander warily, unsure of how to respond. William shocked him by stepping forward, and grasping him by the shoulder.

"I will defend Washington whether or not you are behind me, of that you can be sure. I will be completely honest with you though; I don't want to have to do it alone. I want to know that every step of the way, you are behind me. Tell me you are with me, and I will enter this battle with every confidence in the world that we will win." William said, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. Bryant, unable to respond in words, merely nodded.

"Very well" William said, tightening the girth of his own mount. "We ride in one hour's time. Make sure the men are ready" he said, before gracefully mounting in one single motion. Once astride his mount, he nodded to Bryant, and then took off.

***

"My dear, you look absolutely stunning." The Doctor's kindly words made Eliabeth blush. Despite the fact that she felt claustraphobic in the girdle that helped modern women retain their impossibly perfect figure, she smiled broadly. The pale pink silk gown accentuated her every curve, while the pale blue lace trim highlighted her delicate features. Although her womanly curves had diminished with the weight she had lost while working under the hot summer sun, her form was flawless, and even the good Doctor could not help but react to her nearly ethereal beauty.

"Thank you sir, the dressed you sent fit perfectly" Elizabeth smiled at the older Doctor and his wife, who had become her sponsors in Washington Society. Mrs. Giles, the Doctor's kindly wife, had been especially sweet.

"Elizabeth darling, you really will be quite the center of attention. I fear our local boys will lose their hearts when they first lay eyes on you." Mrs. Giles gushed, taking Elizabeth's arm, who smiled in a slightly embarassed form of gratitude. "Come now my dear, we best be leaving now." Eliabeth followed the oldet couple to their coach, allowing the coachman to assist her into the carriage. Once they we all seated,. the coach quickly off at a quick pace into the balmy night.

It wasn't long before Elizabeth found herself completely bored at the evening's event. Despite the fact that the soiree was taking place at the home of a prominent senator of all people, Elizabeth found the company quite dull. Sure, she had sought entertainment in the arms of countless dance partners, but it seemed that each one fell short of her lofty expectations.

She was in the arms of her eleventh...or was it twelfth dance partner, when Dr. Giles approached and grasped her arm. Only too relieved for the brief respite, Elizabeth nodded her gratitute to her partner, and walked off with the Doctor.

"Elizabeth, I fear there have been some developments. The war is growing closer to Washington, and the President has re-mobilized the Medical Corps. I must depart immediately, so I unfortunately must escort you and Mrs. Giles home immediately."

As he cleaned his spectacles, Elizabeth grasped his arm, ending his speech.

"Doctor, I will leave with you. We both know that this is no place for a girl like me. I will depart when you do." she said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. At his dubious expression, she spoke up more forcefully. "I cannot remain here, you and I both know that. Please, take me with you."

At her heartfelt plea, the Doctor knew he could not refuse her.

"Very well" he spoke up. "We must leave now, and I ask that you be prepared to depart by dawn. We know no details, only that the fighting grows near. Heavy losses have been accrued near Richmond, and I fear that the numbers will only grow higher as the Rebels are forced back."

"I will be ready at dawn." Elizabeth said, turning to depart. The Doctor's hand on her shoulder gave her pause. "Yes sir?" she asked.

"Elizabeth, my dear, you belong here, among the music and the dancing, among others your age, among the happiness. Why do you go where you know there is none?" the Doctor asked, concern furrowing his brow.

"Sir, I do appreciate all you have done, but this is no place for me. I leave with you in the morning." In a bustle of pastel skirts, she was gone, leaving the Doctor behind, staring after her with an expression that was a mix of respect and pity.