Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (30 page)

“Allow me to enlighten you,” he said. “No it
is
not, and no we
will
not—especially not to those who have chosen to
override the Constitution and demand terms revolting to our sense of justice!
Perhaps you do not understand the culture of Virginia. We are a separate
society. We honor valor and we value honor.”

 “Then it is a pity honor did not keep you out
of the Confederate army,” she quipped.

Hunter blinked in surprise at her audacity and
spoke in a strained, emotional voice. “I will grant you full liberty of your
personal opinions, but that does not give you the license to thrust them upon
me, nor am I obligated to listen.”

“Then why did you introduce the subject?” Andrea
inquired, her eyes full of innocence.

“Miss Evans, I have tried to excuse and overlook
your irritable temper, but these intellectual gladiatorial encounters, truly,
are pushing my patience to the limit. I understand your burning impatience to
take yourself from my humble abode, but I hope, most fervently, that we can
have some semblance of peace until that day comes.”

“You are at liberty to hope, I suppose,” Andrea
replied indifferently, “since it is the concept upon which the entire
Confederacy rests.”

“If there is any cause imperiled it would have
to be the Federal’s. Why else would they ultimately, and by no means
infrequently, retreat with more haste than dignity?”

 “You dare come in here to torment and enrage
me,” Andrea yelled. “To discredit the character of our brave men—men who peril
their lives to defend, restore and perpetuate a constitutional government that
you are laboring to destroy!”

“I believe I came in here to see that you get
some nourishment, and how I strayed from that endeavor I don’t well see.
However, I am beginning to see, more clearly every minute, the rationale and
the necessity of the methods of discipline at Libby Prison.”

Andrea’s eyes
opened wide, seeming to double in size. She made a deep guttural noise and
possessed a wild, animal-like look that gave him the inclination to put his
hand on her shoulder to quiet her. “Miss Evans, please do calm down,” he said
with a touch of contrition in his voice. “I regret the remark.”

His words appeared to provide little comfort.
When Andrea turned her full gaze upon him, Hunter actually took a step back, as
if to evade a punch. Her eyes, he believed, spoke better battle English than
even her mouth could convey. He held up his hands. “I apologize. Truly I do. In
fact, I feel I must make amends. Pray stay where you are.”

Hunter flashed a smile, realizing Andrea had no
choice in the matter, and then retreated from the room. When he returned a few
minutes later, her head was again turned to the wall.

“As you seem to manifest a great impatience
toward confinement, and since I understand that crutches are rather cumbersome,
I … retrieved this from the attic.”

Andrea turned her head and Hunter watched her
eyes light up when she saw the cane he held out to her. “It was my
grandmother’s. Made for her by my grandfather.”

Hunter stood by the bed awaiting her pleasure,
secretly hoping she would not decide to use the instrument as a weapon. He
watched her scrutinize the elaborate walking stick, taking in the  ornately
carved horse’s head and flying mane of the handle, and the smooth and polished
cherry of the shaft.

“It is magnificent,” she said, still staring at
the intricate carving of the handle.

Hunter worked hard to suppress a smile.
Ah,
perhaps I will be able to tame the lion after all.

But her eyes turned distrustful again, and then
grew vacant, an apparent habit of hers when she feared her feelings were
becoming visible. “You think to bribe me now?”

“I wish only to ease your transition.” Hunter’s
voice grew businesslike. “Though I hope you won’t rush your recovery by putting
it to use before the recommended time of recuperation.”

Andrea did not answer.

“You have no reason to distrust me.”

“Trust
you
?” She flung her gaze toward
him. “Why, I’d as soon trust a dog with my dinner. But pray don’t take it
personally, Major. Trust is not in my nature. I do not trust anyone.”

“Really? No one? Not even your family?”

“I have no family.”

“They’re all dead?” Hunter continued to probe.

“My mother is dead. My so-called father would be
if I had any say in the matter.”

Stunned, Hunter looked at her, thinking he
misunderstood. “You wish your father dead?”

“I believe I could survive anything if only I
knew I could live long enough to see
that
act of God.”

She said the words matter-of-factly, but the
conviction in her voice and the cold fury in her eyes sent a shiver down
Hunter’s spine. Yet in just another instant, her tone changed and her
countenance softened. “I’ll eat,” she said, as if it were a part of some
ultimate plan. “But I don’t need your blasted help.”

Andrea took the proffered cane and laid it
beside her on the bed, placing a protective hand on it in case he should change
his mind.

Hunter looked at her questioningly, suspecting some
devious scheme. He had not expected the coon to come down from the tree quite
so easily. “Very well. But there is one more thing.”

Andrea stared at him with a mixture of curiosity
and distrust.

“I must urge you not to be reckless with your
strength and health. The doctor says you must not put weight on that leg for—”
Hunter paused and swallowed hard. “For four weeks at the very least, six being
desirable.”

“Surely you jest,” Andrea said, unblinking.

“No. I do not. You will do irreparable damage if
you walk before it is mended.”

Andrea closed her eyes and turned her head away
from him, her chest heaving. “You ask too much of me.”

“It is for your own good,” Hunter offered.

“It is for the good of your Command that you can
lay me up for four more weeks! You are trying to prolong my agony by hindering
my recovery!”

“You cannot believe that is why the procedure
was done,” Hunter said, annoyed at the outburst. “Surely you must know, putting
up with your obdurate personality for four more weeks shall not be an agreeable
proposition for anyone in this household.”

“I cannot make too emphatic a statement that it
is my desire and purpose to leave here as soon as possible,” Andrea said, as if
reminding him of something he could easily forget.

“And I assure you I am doing, and will do,
everything in my power for the accomplishment of that purpose.”

“Good then we agree on something.” Andrea
crossed her arms.

“Yes, we agree. Now can I trust you to eat, Miss
Evans?”

“If I can trust you to leave,” she said with a
hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Like the Confederacy, I wish to be left alone.”

Chapter
27

 “Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.”

– The Tempest, Shakespeare

A soft breeze carried the aroma of budding
growth to Hunter as he made his way into the house. In the weeks following his
latest encounter with Andrea, he had been in the saddle almost continuously.
Now he was home at last for some much-needed rest. He paused at the stairs with
one boot on the bottom step, then turned and proceeded toward the back veranda.
He needed to soak up the peace and quiet of Hawthorne and clear the battle
scenes from his mind before retiring.

“Mistis Andrea, you need a wrap?” he heard Izzie
ask. “It getting chilly out heah.”

“That would be nice, Izzie, thank you,” came the
reply.

When the coat settled on her shoulders, Andrea
laughed. “Thank you, Izzie. That was fast.”

“You’re welcome,” Hunter said, taking a seat on
the step beside her.

Andrea glanced around in surprise before
focusing her attention back on the descending darkness.  “I was not aware you
were back.”

“Just got in. Came out to listen to the
silence.”

Hunter pulled out his pipe and struck a match on
the stone step. As he touched the flaming head to the tobacco, his mind
wandered to their last meeting—though the same did not seem true of her. She
appeared more intent on ignoring his presence than thinking about the last time
she was in it.

“I see you’ve been making much progress,” he
said to break the tension. “Hard to believe it’s been four weeks since the …
procedure.”

Andrea cocked her head, apparently trying to
decide if he was asking a question or merely delivering an assessment. She must
have decided on the latter, because she did not respond.

“I think perhaps you are pushing yourself too
hard,” Hunter prodded.  “I believe Doc had hoped you would not put weight on
your leg for six weeks.”

“Did you not say you came out to listen to the
silence? If so, you may find that the quieter you become the more you will
hear.”

Hunter shrugged and leaned back, placing his
elbows on the step behind him. He had the feeling that his houseguest’s spirit
of intolerance, if anything, had grown since last they had met.

But then she surprised him.

“Hawthorne is a perfect paradise,” she said
staring out over the fields.

Hunter sat up and gazed at the serious look on
her face. “And you are disappointed it is owned by a Rebel?”

“No.” She seemed to almost crack a smile. “I
can’t allow that to detract from its splendor.”

“Well, I’m glad the fact that we’re in Virginia
does not reduce its value in your eyes and estimation.”

“It’s quite magical, actually.” Andrea averted
her gaze to her hands.

Hunter decided to push his advantage. “And yet
you wonder why I fight for it?”

She looked back over at him, her brow furrowed,
pondering his simple question.

“Fighting against Virginia would be like
fighting against a piece of myself,” he said, leaning forward, eager to get her
to understand. “I love this soil, perhaps more than I love my own soul.”

Andrea nodded, the fight and challenge in her
eyes replaced by a heartfelt look of understanding. “I suppose it is natural to
choose to fight for the soil from which you came.”

Her words and tone caused Hunter to pause. He
followed her gaze from the giant shadows of horses in the fields to the wisps
of white scudding across the sky.

“It looks like the clouds are racing the moon.”
Andrea pointed heavenward. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Hunter glanced up just as a shooting star
streaked across the velvety cloak of night. Andrea leaned into him and grabbed
his leg excitedly. “Quick! Make a wish!”

She closed her eyes, while Hunter stared at her
hand as if it were a branding iron searing his flesh. Indeed when she withdrew
it, he flinched, imagining he felt a scorching handprint there. Clearing his
throat, he returned his gaze to the sky. “So what did you wish for?”

“The first thing that came to my mind, of
course. Peace.” Andrea looked up at him. “You could not have guessed?”

“No. I would have thought your first wish would
be to leave here.”

She simply shrugged. “You are mistaken.”

Nothing
disturbed the peaceful silence for a few more moments, until Andrea pulled the
coat draped across her shoulders closer around her. Looking down, she shrieked,
then stood in one swift movement. “How dare you!”

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, surprised by her
sudden change in attitude.

“What’s wrong?” Andrea cried, her lightning
temper apparently ignited. “You, sir, may pledge your allegiance to the
Confederate States of America, but I do not!” She took the military coat off
her shoulders and threw it at him. “Nor will I. Pray do not dress me in
Confederate gray while I’m being held here against my will!”

The warm and innocent eyes suddenly blazed, the
peaceful serenity of the evening shattered. “Miss Evans, I assure you, I meant
nothing by it.”

“You call yourself a gentleman.” She flung the
words over her shoulder in disgust, leaning heavily on the cane. “Circumstances
may require that I live under the folds of your godforsaken flag, but I shall
never owe my allegiance to it!”

“Miss Evans.” Hunter stood and followed her. “My
only intention was to keep you from catching a chill, I swear to you. You may
be sure of my pardon if you’ve taken offense.”

“You mock me,” she spat, turning back to shake
her cane at him in an act of utter contempt. “If you think I will ever betray
the Union, you are mistaken.

“I believe you’ve made that point before.”
Hunter shook his head. How could he have known that draping his own coat across
her shoulders would bring out this demon of rebelliousness? He listened to
Andrea let out another string of curses that was neither polite nor especially
easy on the ears. The words she used were of the type that should never have
been
heard
by a lady, let alone cross the lips of one.

He stood
dazed, shaking his head in amazement, while Andrea continued her tirade. She
uttered maledictions all the way into the house, making it abundantly clear he
had committed a sin that should not, and could not, be pardoned in this world
or the next. Nothing he or his ancestors had ever done since their arrival in
America was left untouched, nor did she fail to suggest where he and every
human being in the Confederacy might go if the decision were up to her.

She was, without a doubt, the most perplexing,
unpredictable, infuriating woman Hunter had ever met. Never had he seen a
creature whose emotions went to such extremes, a wide-eyed, innocent child one
moment, a willful, wild demon the next. There was no way of knowing which would
appear or when, and he was tired of trying to figure it out.

If she is determined to remain enemies, I
will have to respect her wishes.
He glanced over his shoulder at the sound
of a door slamming in the house.
On second thought, I have no choice in the
matter.