Daniel's Desire (13 page)
“I need someone with authority to stop Lieutenant McCoy’s hanging. The commander at the camp has been called to Washington. You are the only person above Captain Nelson who can stop this.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Excuse me.” The governor rose and walked to the door, shouting for Billings. The servant appeared within seconds.
“I want you to take a note to the Western Union office right away.” He moved to a small desk in the corner and pulled out a piece of paper with the governor’s seal on top. Dipping his pen into the inkwell, he began to write.
Rosemarie took in a deep breath. Hopefully, the missive would reach the camp before Captain Nelson followed through with his plans. Then an idea formed that made her heart thump. She didn’t trust Captain Nelson. She chewed her lip as Billings left the room, the note in his hand.
“May I ask one more favor?” Rosemarie stood, her fingers clenched.
Governor Morton leaned back in his chair. “What else?”
“I have reason to believe Captain Nelson is taking this entire thing personally. I fear he may ignore the telegram.”
The governor frowned. “Surely he wouldn’t ignore a direct order from the governor?”
“No, probably not. But, who’s to know when the telegram will arrive? Even if it’s later found he disregarded your instructions, it will be too late to save Lieutenant McCoy.”
He nodded and pulled another piece of paper from his desk drawer, and wrote again. “Here. I suggest you ride to Camp Morton with this in your hand.”
“Thank you so much. I will never forget your kindness.”
A slight flush rose on the governor’s face, and he waved her away. “Just go save your young man. That’s all the thanks I want.”
She bent and kissed him on the cheek. Then with the paper in her hand, she left the house.
Daniel must have dozed off, as he was jarred awake by the sound of the cell door swinging open. “Got some breakfast here for ya, Lieutenant.” The sheriff held a small basket that he placed on the edge of the cot. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of Captain Nelson, so I thought I’d better feed ya. No telling how long they caroused last night.”
Rubbing his palms over his face, Daniel stood. “Thanks, sheriff. I appreciate it.”
“Sure seems ya got yourself in a lick of trouble.”
Daniel nodded. “Can I get some water? I’d like to clean up a bit.”
The sheriff swung the cell door closed and headed out the back. He returned a short while later with a pan of water and a small square of cloth. He slid them under the bars. “I’ll clean everything out when you’re gone.”
Gone.
Today was most likely the last morning he would wake up. His eyes shifted to the small window where he’d touched Rosemarie’s hand last night, while he cursed the wall that separated them. Now the moonlight had disappeared, leaving the buildings across the street glowing in the orange haze of sunrise. How soon would the captain come for him? Would they hang him the minute they hit the fort, or give him time to contemplate his fate?
The water in the pan was cold, but it felt good on the injuries his face had taken yesterday. After cleaning his face and teeth, Daniel ran his wet fingers through his hair. He shoved the pan into a corner and pulled the basket to him. Two warm biscuits, jam, and a small jar of coffee. He unscrewed the lid and drank the hot, bracing liquid. Although they smelled wonderful, his stomach rebelled at the thought of eating the biscuits.
Once he finished the coffee, Daniel stretched out on his cot, his hands behind his head. The ceiling above him bore numerous cracks, the paint chipped. His gaze roamed the room, the stark walls, small cot, slop bucket in the corner, and the bars on the cell door. Keeping him in, away from those he loved.
Before long, his thoughts drifted to exactly where he didn’t want them to go. Rosemarie. The woman he’d intended to return to when the war was over. To marry her, love her, help raise her children. A slight smile hitched his lips. Amelia with her fingers stuck in her mouth, the appreciation in her bright eyes when he’d allowed her to carry breakfast to her mama. The pride in Chandler as he held up a rabbit he’d shot the last time they hunted. And little Jace, giggling as his arms raised, wanting Daniel to put him on his shoulders. How he would have loved to see them all grow into adulthood.
The sound of footsteps and deep voices pulled him from his musing. Captain Nelson and two of his men stood outside his cell. The sheriff arrived right behind them, the ring of keys in his hand.
“Time to go, Southern boy.” Captain Nelson sneered. “You ready to swing?”
Daniel muttered a curse under his breath and stood. He wouldn’t give Nelson the satisfaction of showing the fear that tightened his belly. “Anytime, Yank.”
Captain Nelson scowled and nudged the sheriff. “Get the bastard out of there. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
Once again, Daniel’s hands were tied behind his back. They escorted him down the hallway and outside to the bright sunlight. Two other men and six horses gathered in front of the jailhouse. Across the street, several shopkeepers stopped sweeping and stared.
“How do you expect me to mount the horse with my hands tied?”
Nelson gestured to one of the soldiers standing next to him. The young man, not yet out of his teens, quickly untied the leather strap. Daniel mounted the horse. “Don’t see as how I can ride either, with my hands tied up.”
“No matter, dead man. One of my men will have a gun pointed at your back the entire ride. Either swing from the rope or get shot in the back, makes no difference to me.”
Captain Nelson and his men all straddled their horses, and with a wave of his hand, Nelson moved them forward. Daniel was positioned between the captain and two young soldiers in the front, and the rest behind. The click of a gun by a soldier to his rear reinforced the captain’s threat.
The three-hour ride to the camp passed quickly. As they rode through the main gate, Captain Nelson led the men to a different location than the one Daniel had escaped from several weeks back. “Danforth,” Nelson directed his comments to the soldier alongside him, “lock the prisoner up. I’m going to the office to get the paperwork done for his hanging.”
The level of activity in the camp had increased since Daniel’s departure. News of the surrender of General Lee had apparently reached the men. Already groups of men, ragged and weary, rode in creaking wagons from the fighting fields.
Danforth nudged Daniel with his gun and indicated he should dismount. Daniel slid from the horse, and with a soldier on either side, entered a small room. A desk with papers scattered about sat in the middle of the space, with several chairs in various positions. A large map hung on a wall between two windows.
“In there.” The young soldier motioned.
Daniel walked the short distance to one of four cells in a room behind the office. After being locked in, he sat on the cot and leaned against the wall.
• • •
Captain Nelson entered his quarters and laid his sword and gun on his desk. A rap on the door caught his attention. “Enter.”
A middle-aged soldier, with a belly that hung over his belt, saluted as he move into the room. “This telegram just came for you, Captain.”
“Thank you, soldier.” After nodding at the man, Nelson opened the paper and read, his eyes moving over the words. His jaw worked, and he felt his face flush.
“Goddammit!” He crumpled the paper, then shoved his hands into his pocket, staring out the window. After a few minutes, he tore the missive into small pieces and tossed them into the fireplace.
• • •
“Time to go, Reb.” Captain Nelson smirked at him from the other side of the bars.
After the door unlocked, Daniel stepped out, and the soldier standing next to Nelson tied Daniel’s hands behind his back.
“Don’t I get to see a preacher?”
“No. We don’t have one here. Get moving.”
As he stepped from the building, Daniel blinked at the bright sunlight, his eyes riveted on the platform with the noose hanging from it. This was it.
I’m so sorry, Rosemarie. Please don’t mourn me for too long.
Daniel climbed the steps and walked to the center. The young soldier standing guard positioned him, and then slid the rope around his neck.
“Have any last words, soldier?” Captain Nelson smirked, arms crossed.
“Stop!”
All three men glanced toward a woman, her skirts above her knees, hair flying in the breeze as she rode a horse right up to the platform, yanked on the reins and slid to the ground.
Rosemarie?
She looked magnificent. All the righteousness of an avenging angel radiated from her. Her hair tumbled down her back, her face flushed. She gasped to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling. With her hands fisted at her side, and eyes flashing, she marched up to Captain Nelson, drew back her arm, and punched him square in the jaw.
Oh my God. Now we’ll both hang.
The soldier on the platform jumped down and grabbed Rosemarie, wrenching her hands behind her back.
“Leave her alone,” Daniel shouted, and turned to another soldier. “Cut me loose.”
Confused with the turn of events, and eyes bulging at the attack on the captain, the soldier withdrew his sword and cut the ties binding Daniel’s hands together. After pulling the rope off, Daniel ran down the steps.
“You dirty, stinking bastard!” Rosemarie attempted to free herself, but the soldier held tight. “Governor Morton sent you a telegram this morning, telling you to halt this hanging.”
The captain rubbed his chin. “I had no such information.”
“Strange. I was right there in his parlor when he sent his man with the note to the Western Union office.”
“Proceed with the hanging.” Nelson glared at the soldier. “Who authorized you to free his hands?” The captain’s face contorted in anger.
“No you don’t.” Rosemarie yanked herself free from the befuddled soldier. “I have another note right here, signed only a couple of hours ago by Governor Morton.” She shoved the paper into his hand. “If you hang Lieutenant McCoy, I’ll see you thrown into prison for the rest of your miserable life. That is if they don’t hang you for disobeying a direct order from the governor of Indiana.”
Daniel moved to her, placing his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They both stared at the captain.
Captain Nelson opened the paper with shaky hands. A deep flush rose from his collar to his hairline. He crushed the paper in his hand and glared at her before tossing it to the ground. His jaw worked, the vein in his neck pulsing.
“Release the prisoner.”
He turned and strode away, the ball of the wadded up paper that saved Daniel’s life dancing in the breeze behind him.
Daniel placed his hands on Rosemarie’s shoulders and turned her toward him. “I love you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
She sagged with relief against him and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I bet you say that to all the women who save you from a hanging.”
“No, sweetheart. Only one.” He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.
A cheer went up from a group of weary blue-jacketed soldiers rumbling by in a creaky wagon, their dirt-filled faces grinning at the young couple.
My thanks to Crimson Romance for appreciating Daniel and Rosemarie’s story.
To Jennifer, who answered all my questions with patience.
To my critique partner, Char Chaffin, who keeps me on track when I wander off, and slaps my hand when I overuse a word.
And to my family, who puts up with me constantly dealing with them from my keyboard.
Callie has been making up stories since elementary school, and writing gave her a way to turn off the voices in her head. She’s had a number of articles and interviews published over the years, and about two years ago, decided to put her writing skills to the test and write a book.
Oklahoma is where she hangs her hat with her husband of thirty-six years, two young adult children, and three dogs.
You can catch her hanging out at Facebook (
www.facebook.com/callie.hutton
), Twitter (
@CallieHutton
) and her home base,
www.calliehutton.com
. Stop by sometime and say hello.
Books by Callie Hutton:
Oklahoma Lovers series, #1, #2, #3
An Angel in the Mail
Tessa’s Treasures
Miss Merry’s Christmas
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