“The object of this war is to correct Abraham Lincoln’s political misconceptions,” said the colonel, his jaw so rigid with principle that it might shatter, losing his teeth all over the floor.
Lucas swatted at a moth. “Let’s hear it for General Lee.”
“Hear, hear. Unlike General Grant, he knows which end of the pig makes the mess. And do you see how the people will comprehend that Lee’s army will be down on them like a pack of wolves?” The colonel chortled with delightful horror.
“Even a fool can see that coming,” Lucas opined.
“They will be crushed like a rotten peach.” The Colonel boasted and toasted some more. “Beg pardon, ma’am,” he addressed Rachel. “We officers’ take our natures with us wherever we go.” In another thirty minutes, the colonel had drunk himself asleep, with deep hiccupping snores that rattled the windows.
The train slowed to a town. Rachel turned to where Lucas stared out the window. He used his eyes like she did for a comprehensive study of the lines, breastworks, and the caliber of guns. The colonel’s snores became so loud, he woke himself up.
“What’s that over there?” Lucas asked.
“There’s a lot of good Yanks over there.” The colonel laughed.
Rachel squinted in the sun. “Doesn’t look like much of anything.”
The colonel chuckled again. “That’s the cemetery.”
Rachel swallowed.
The colonel adjusted the sword at his side. “Have you heard that a traitorous Union colonel and his woman were burned to death in a terrible fire in Richmond?”
Rachel gripped Lucas’ arm. His muscles flexed beneath her fingers.
“Not at all,” said Lucas, his voice smooth and oily.
“Where you been, Boy, under a rock? Been in all the papers. Can you imagine the outrageousness of those infernal Yank spies in the Capitol of the Confederacy?”
“I can imagine. Foxy devils, every one of them. They have a lot of nerve, those wily scoundrels,” growled Lucas. “Why, they could be sitting right in front of you and you’d never know it.”
Rachel tamped down the urge not to grab the colonel’s flask and hit Lucas over the head.
“As far as I’m concerned, those traitorous spies got what was coming to them,” said the colonel taking a hearty sip.
The train stopped. The platform filled with people. “I wonder if there will be enough seats to fit all those passengers.” She stared at all the soldiers and dug her fingers into Lucas’ arm. Someone may recognize him. The train began moving.
She followed Lucas’ eyes to the far door of their car. In the next boxcar, Captain Johnson made steady progress down the aisle.
Rachel drifted closer, employing the use of her handkerchief to cover the movement of her lips as she murmured to him, “I told you so.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “Those are without a doubt the four most nettling words in the English language, my dear.” He tipped his hat lower and rose, careful not to disturb the snoring colonel.
“I forgot to introduce you to an old friend in the rear car, my darling,” Lucas said.
With her satchel clutched to her chest, Rachel moved with Lucas out of their car and onto the coupler. The wind blew her hair and she fought a wave of vertigo as the countryside whizzed past. Her stomach heaved. Lucas held her tight as the coupler bowed and swayed.
A plume of smoke chugged from the engine stack and swirled over them. She coughed. One wrong step and they might fall, crushed beneath the train’s massive wheels. Rachel glanced through the window. Captain Johnson stopped to talk to the colonel.
“Whatever do we do now?”
“We jump.”
She blinked. “Are you crazy? Or are you given to impetuous behavior? Maybe you’re frustrated by a woman smarter than you. That’s it! You’re determined to flaunt your arrogant shortcomings. You, Colonel Rourke…” she jabbed a finger in his chest, “must have had the privy fall on your head, for you are indeed a lunatic.”
“Do you have a better idea? I have no hankering for swinging from a gallows tree.”
“Do you want a medal posthumously?” She shrieked at him and made the mistake of glancing through the window again. Johnson recognized her and started toward them.
