“So, I hear you are heading east.”
“We are. Only left because of the war. Going back home to Maine now.”
She shook her head. “The call to war. Men can’t seem to ignore it. Long way to come to let some fools shoot at you. Should have stayed home. Suspect you could’ve found someone to shoot at you there.”
He laughed. “I could have, except the need to keep the country whole stirred me to go. The worst is trying to accept that you are killing people. Even though they are trying to kill you, it is a hard thing to adjust to. Then there is the fact that it is nasty, dirty, and, certainly, damned uncomfortable. I am a man who greatly appreciates his comforts.” He grinned when the woman laughed.
“I bet. Saw some soldiers, some going and some coming back from a battle.” She shook her head. “Some of the boys returning, too few of them in my opinion, looked like they had aged ten years.” She stepped back and held open the door as he led his horse out of the stall. “Come on. No need to worry. Already did my hunting and caught me a good one: he is only missing a piece.”
“Which piece?”
“Bottom half of his leg. He’s pondering a peg leg, like a pirate,” she said and smiled slightly.
James nodded. “There will be a lot of broken men for a while.”
She nodded. “My man has accepted it, but he is constantly searching for something he can strap on to make up for it. To give him balance, he says. I am glad my cousin stood in her door with her rifle in hand and stopped her boys from marching off. And not just because that would leave her with no one to help her keep the house by working the fields and dealing with the animals. They had only just entered their teen years. Handsome, good-hearted boys. Too damn young.”
“Drummer boys,” he muttered as he started to walk his horse around the building and recalled one horrific memory of finding pieces of a body left on a battlefield, just enough to let him know it had been a very young boy. He had stood there and wept that day, and it still haunted him. He suspected it always would, then frowned as he felt someone rub his back and looked back to see the woman had come up and was trying to comfort him.
“I am fine. It is just a quickly passing memory and I get it often, though it begins to fade.”
“Good,” she said as she stepped back. “This damn fool war left too many of you young men scarred by bad memories. Filled your heads with ugly memories to haunt your thoughts and dreams. Well, you fellows have a safe trip.”
* * *
After settling his horse in the stock car, Geordie stood outside and watched the milling crowds as he waited for Robbie and James to do the same. He could understand Robbie’s dislike of such crowds because he shared it. They were pleasant to mix with on a celebratory occasion, but he would find them a chore when the crowds were a constant part of your life, always waiting just outside your door. He had no plans to live in a place like Boston or New York, but now he wondered if he would find even these small cities cropping up along the train tracks difficult to settle in.
They finally got on the train and found their seats, making sure Robbie would be able to put up his foot. He needed that or he could end up with a bad ache in his leg. This train would take them into Boston with only one switch to a smaller, local train, and Geordie thought it might be a good idea to let Robbie rest for a bit when they got to the city, to get a room with beds and stay a night or two. He considered their finances and figured they could do it. It would be a resting stop, he decided, and one he felt Robbie needed. He was not sure how much rest Robbie would need after the hours, the days, they had spent traveling, but felt sure it would help him as they made their way up the coast.
He watched as a woman they had seen earlier on the streets came in and took the seats across the aisle from them. She settled her little girl next to her, set a cloth bag down by her feet, and pulled out some knitting. He slouched in his seat and wished he could do something like that, as he found riding the trains somewhat boring. The scenery was pleasant, but there were only so many trees you could gaze at and fields you could watch before boredom swept over you. Sleep passed the time, he decided, as he closed his eyes.
Chapter Four
The whimpers of a small child pulled Geordie from sleep. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up and looked around. He was not home; he was on a train. Once he had that clear revelation, everything came back to him and he sat up straight. The woman and the small child still sat across the aisle from him. Now six men had surrounded her. One knelt on the seat behind her and played with her black hair, undoing her careful styling and sneaking caresses of her long, slender neck. The others crowded the seats around her, forcing the young girl into her arms so that she could not even attempt to fight off the men. It was an effective trap and he had to wonder if the men had used it often.
“Aw, hell,” muttered James, and he reached for his gun but Geordie reached out to stay his hand.
“Tempting as it is, I dinnae think we can have a shooting match in the train car,” Geordie said softly. “The child or the woman could end up hurt or dead.”
“Can’t just ignore that.”
“Wasnae suggesting that we do. Just that we shouldnae start shooting.” Geordie looked at his brother, who was staring at the scene next to them and looking furious. “Robbie, remember the awkward stumble?”
“Of course I do. Nay that fond of it. It hurts a bit, ye ken.”
“I thought maybe it did, but it is for a good cause this time, nay just a bit of foolery.”
“Ye saying that doesnae really help.”
Robbie stood up while Geordie made a big show of helping him. Together they staggered into the aisle as they drew abreast of the seat where the men were harassing the woman; they feigned a small tugging argument with Geordie saying they needed to go left and Robbie adamant that they should go right. Then Robbie stumbled, conveniently whacking a couple of the men with his cane as he fell heavily on the man sitting next to the woman. Geordie saw the punch Robbie gave the man and knew they could count that one out. He actually had to bite back a laugh when the little girl hit that man in the head with her wooden doll.
Geordie stumbled back when Robbie made an attempt to sit up. He felt a man move behind him and swung as he turned toward him, knocking him out by slamming his elbow into the man’s jaw. Robbie got to his feet, flailing his cane around again until he caught the man standing behind the woman, square in the face. It was clear to see that Robbie had practiced flailing his cane around.
James slid over the back of his seat and across the aisle, then, a moment later, Geordie saw the man facing the woman being grabbed around the throat by James and being held tightly until his thrashing body stilled and he slumped down. It was something James had done when he and other soldiers were creeping around doing a little spying on the enemy and he apparently had decided to keep and hone the skill.
James moved to stand beside Geordie as a couple of the porters rushed in. While James talked to them, Geordie dragged the unconscious men more fully into the aisle, then sat down facing the woman. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Robbie sitting down in his seat and watching him, all the while using his cane to whack any man who showed signs of regaining consciousness.
“Are ye hurt, ma’am?” Geordie asked the woman, deciding she was pretty, nicely rounded yet slender, and probably several years older than him. She was also weighted with sorrow and pain, but was that pain emotional or physical? “Do ye need a healer?”
