ON WEDNESDAY, THE Battle of Cedar Creek began to unfold practically in front of Sam and the rest of the men. News was received early Wednesday morning that the confederates were attempting to take D.C. Christopher requested that Sam send Crow to gather information. He had the ability to get in and out of places without anyone ever knowing he’d been there.
The men moved the women to Christopher’s townhouse in an effort to keep them safe. His was the largest home and could accommodate everyone for several days. The men would be overwhelmed with efforts to assist the Union and with the girls in one place, they felt they could effectively keep an eye on them in a group effort. Andrew was in D.C. for the next six weeks, so a message was delivered to his townhouse regarding the threat.
Gwen was the last to be delivered, and the girls were excited to spend time together, even if it was somewhat forced.
Sam met Crow at the prison on Wednesday afternoon and they gathered a few of their senior guards to discuss the information regarding the Johnson siblings.
“Rose was not raped as originally thought. She is up to something, so we need to be on heightened awareness, and you must not underestimate her,” Sam informed the men.
“I overheard her speaking with her brother,” Paul mentioned. “Something about a man named Early.”
“Crow? Any ideas who he might be?”
“Rebel Lt. Gen. Jubal A. Early. He started to deploy his men last night. Maj. Gen. John B. Gordon’s division started their march early in the morning and took Crook’s VIII. Early enough, in fact, several of the Union soldiers were still asleep. We have reports that hundreds of prisoners were taken. I have been unable to confirm it yet.”
Sam dragged his hands down his face. “What are Early’s next steps?”
“He’s moving men to the west, but I’m uncertain what he’ll do next.”
“Damn it,” Sam said. “Where is Sheridan?”
“Winchester,” Crow answered.
“Sir?” The interruption came from one of the clerks, who stood in the doorway.
“Yes, Will?”
“A missive has arrived from Mr. Butler, sir.”
Sam took the note and read it before dismissing Will. “The XIX Corps under Emory has been hit. Apparently they had no time to prepare and some of the retreating soldiers from his corps caused confusion. The battle line was put together hastily and faced south rather than west, the Rebel guns were able to shell the open flank.”
“I want to assist,” Paul said.
“I can take you to Emory,” Crow offered.
Sam turned to the other men. “If any of you want to go, you may,” he said.
Sam wasn’t surprised when they all volunteered, so he brought the meeting to a close. His men left for the Union camp while Sam decided to make the rounds and check in with his junior guards.
* * *
Back at the townhouse, Rayne was regaling the group with a few of her original songs. Hannah had a beautiful piano, despite the fact that neither she nor Christopher played, so Rayne was in her element.
The Butler brothers and Andrew arrived home just before lunch and Rayne and Emma were informed that Clayton and Sam would be stuck at the prison for several more hours.
“Are they okay?” Rayne asked.
Christopher nodded. “Yes, they’re fine. They’re interrogating a prisoner.”
“Well, I’m starving,” Hannah said. “Why don’t we eat?”
The group sat down to lunch and Rayne tried to get information out of Christopher and Quincy about what was going on at the prison, but they were tight-lipped. Even Andrew, the jokester of the group, was sullen. When lunch concluded, Gwen and Victoria hounded their husbands to take them riding, and with the promise they’d stay close to the house, Quincy and Andrew finally relented.
Hannah and Christopher retired to their room for the afternoon, and Emma and Rayne holed up in the parlor but quickly grew bored with the lack of entertainment.
“You could keep singing,” Emma suggested.
Rayne smiled. “Honestly? I’m kind of worried about Sam and Clayton.”
Emma sighed. “Me too.”
Before they could continue their commiserating, the housekeeper knocked on the door. “Mrs. Powell? There’s a gentleman here to see you. He says he works with Mr. Powell.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Putnam.” Rayne’s heart raced as she rushed to the foyer. “Sir?”
A man not much taller than Rayne turned and smiled. He had mousy brown hair that curled over his collar and thin lips that stretched over crooked teeth. “Mrs. Powell. There’s an urgent situation at the prison, and your husband has sent for you.”
“Oh, I’ll get my coat.” Rayne turned to see Emma frowning. “Emma? Are you okay?”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Sir? Could you please tell me your name?”
“Mr. Sisco…” He bowed, “… at your service.”
Rayne pulled her coat and gloves on, but Emma laid her hand on her arm to slow her. “Well, Mr. Sisco, I think Mrs. Powell and I will follow you to the jail, if you don’t mind.”
Rayne shook her head. “You don’t need to come, Em.”
Mr. Sisco nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m happy to take Mrs. Powell in my buggy.”
Emma shrugged into her heavy coat. “That’s very generous, but I actually have business there as well, so we’ll follow you.”
Mr. Sisco frowned but gave a reluctant nod. “If you wish.”
Rayne followed Emma out to the carriage house and Christopher’s groom rigged the buggy for them. They climbed in and Emma guided the horse towards the jail. Mr. Sisco followed.
“What business do you have?” Rayne asked.
“Nothing.” Emma glanced at her and then back to the street. “Something’s not right, so I figure safety in numbers.”
“Why do you think something’s off?”
“I just don’t think Sam would send someone to fetch you. He’d come and get you himself.”
Rayne smiled. “Emma, Mr. Sisco works pretty closely with Sam. He’s mentioned him several times.”
Emma shrugged. “Great. If that’s the case, then we have nothing to worry about, and we’ve had a little distraction in our day.”
Rayne leaned back against the bench. “Silly rabbit.”
Emma guided the buggy through the prison gates and to where visitors could leave their horses. She set the brake and a guard came to assist them down.
Mr. Sisco joined them and led them through the back entrance of the building and then through several large gates. Rayne remembered Sam’s general description of the facility, so was not entirely lost as they made their way through the halls. There were three sections, concentric circles essentially, to the large building. The worst of the worst were housed in the middle circle, where they had no contact to the outside.
Sam had given Rayne strict orders never to enter this area of the prison, and once they passed through the first two sets of gates, Rayne realized this was where they were going. “Mr. Sisco, we really shouldn’t be in this part of the building.”
When he turned, Rayne let out a gasp. He held two pistols, now aimed at her and Emma. “Mrs. Powell, we’re going to go in there and you’re going to do everything I say. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you, Mrs. Madden, and then your husbands.”
Emma grasped Rayne’s hand and scowled at him. “You’ve got two shots there… tops.”
“Emma,” Rayne admonished in a whisper.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Then I’ll shoot the two of you.”
Rayne stepped in front of Emma. “We’ll do what you say.”
“That’s better.” He unlocked the large door and pushed the ladies through the portal.
The girls made their way into the inner sanctum of the prison and down the aisleway. The cell doors were the type Rayne imagined would be in a dungeon, large steel with a peek-a-boo door for the guards to be able to look inside. There was also a slit at the bottom, which she assumed was where they would slide the tray of food.
The girls continued down the east hallway and were brought quickly to an open area, with a cage in the middle. Clayton and Sam were in the cage, along with a man Rayne didn’t recognize shackled inside.
“That’s Timothy Johnson,” Emma whispered.
Clayton placed his hands on the table and leaned down to face the prisoner. “Why did you attack your sister?”
“Oh now, Clayton, what makes you think I would ever hurt Rose?” Timothy crooned patronizingly.
“We have proof,” Sam interjected.
“I’d never touch her.”
“And you’re a liar!” Clayton yelled and slammed his fists on the table.
Emma gasped, which made the men turn.
“Emma,” Clayton growled. “What are you doing here?”
“Ivan,” Timothy said with a knowing grin.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”
Rayne bit her lip. “He has guns.”
Ivan pointed a gun to Rayne’s head. “Release Tim.”
Sam stepped to the cell door and unlocked it, keeping his body between Timothy and Rayne. “Ivan, take it easy. We can discuss all of this. Just let the women go.”
Rayne yelled out a warning, but it was too late. Tim had rushed Sam, knocking him to the floor.
“I have keys in my pocket,” Ivan said to Tim.
Tim located the keys and released himself. He grabbed Rayne, wrapping one arm around her waist, and held a knife to her neck.
Ivan tried to rush Emma, but Clayton was faster and pulled her to safety before Ivan could reach her. Clayton managed to disarm Ivan, and now had him in the cell, a gun aimed at his heart.
Sam inched towards Rayne, his hands out in surrender.
“Come any closer and I’ll kill her,” Tim threatened.
The knife nicked Rayne’s neck and she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped. Something warm trickled down her throat, and she shivered. She knew she needed to stay calm and let Sam know that she was okay, but she hated blood.
“Tim,” Sam said quietly. “Release her. Your fight is with us, not her.”
“Stay away from me,” Tim warned.
Rayne struggled against the man, but that earned her another nick with the knife. “Sam? I’d appreciate help with this knife at my neck business.”
All of a sudden a loud bang echoed the room and something warm and wet splashed across her face. Tim released his grip and fell to the ground. Another bang and then everything after that seemed to play out in slow motion.
Rayne moved her hand to wipe her face and it came away covered in blood. She looked at Sam and saw his hand raised, a gun in it, with smoke swirling from the barrel. It looked a little like a cloud.
She felt slightly drunk.
She turned to look at the prisoner on the ground and saw a gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead. She noted the perfectly round hole and the blood seeping all over the floor behind his head. Ivan lay groaning on the floor of the cell. Clayton appeared to have shot him.
“Rayne?”
“Aardvark.” She felt her body suddenly become heavy and she dropped like a stone.
* * *
Sam caught her before she hit the ground, and lifted her into his arms. He rushed her through the hallways of the prison and into his office. He yelled for warm water and towels as he laid her gently on the floor. He checked her body for wounds and was relieved to see the nicks on her neck were superficial. They’d stopped bleeding already and it looked as though all he’d need to do was clean the dried blood away.
Clayton and Emma rushed into the office, followed by one of the guards. Sam glanced up at Emma. “Did you bring a buggy?”
Emma nodded. “It’s outside.”
Sam nodded toward the guard. “Paul?”
“Yes sir?”
Sam gathered Rayne into his arms. “I’m taking my wife home. I want you to send for the coroner and have him remove the body of the prisoner… and take care of Ivan. I want him alive.”
Paul nodded. “Yes sir.”
Sam lifted Rayne and carried her out to the Maddens’ buggy. Once Clayton lifted Emma in, he drove them back to the Butlers’.
“Sam?” Rayne whispered as she came to.
“Shhh, sweetheart, try not to move. Clayton’s taking us home.”
When they arrived, Sam carried Rayne up the front steps and rushed inside. He yelled for Victoria as he ascended the stairs with her. He reached their temporary bedroom and laid her on the bed. Rayne let out a quiet whimper.
“Sam? What happened?” Victoria asked as she walked into the room.
Sam filled her in on the events at the jail and Victoria immediately went to work to organize a bath and bandages.
“I’m fine, Sam,” Rayne said. “You don’t need to fuss, babe.”
Sam helped her to stand and unlaced her corset. “I want to make sure you’re not hurt.”
“I’m fine. Other than a headache and some ringing in my ears, I’m okay,” she assured him. “I cannot believe I passed out. Stupid corset.” She stepped to the mirror. “Never been a big fan of blood either.” A disgusted squeak had Sam on edge as Rayne frantically tried to wipe the blood from her face and hands. “Gross!”
“Victoria’s arranging a bath. You’ll be able to get clean in a moment.”
As if on cue, the house staff arrived with a tub. They filled it up and then discreetly left. Victoria arrived and laid out towels and a couple of bandages on the bureau.
“How are you, Rayne?” she asked.
Rayne wrinkled her nose. “Disgusted, but otherwise fine.”
Victoria nodded toward the dresser. “I brought you some lavender oil for the water. You’ll feel better in no time.”
Rayne smiled. “Thanks.”
“You clean up and I’ll arrange something for you to eat.”
Rayne waved her hand dismissively. “No, don’t. We’ll eat with you.”
“Are you sure?” Victoria asked.
“Yes, of course.”
Sam walked Victoria to the door and locked it behind her. Once he helped Rayne remove her clothing, she held onto his arm for balance and stepped into the tub. With a sigh, she sank down into the warm water and took the washcloth he held out to her.
Rayne squeezed his hand. “I’m fine, Sam. Just relax.”
She washed away the blood and gunpowder that lingered on her skin while Sam paced the room. His mind was a mass of confusion as he tried to calm his rage. The sound of quiet singing broke through and he focused on his wife as she stared up at him from the tub.
“There you are.” She smiled. “Singing appears to be the trick to get your attention.”
Sam sighed. “Sorry.”
She craned her neck and pointed to the scrapes. “Can you look at my neck, please?”
Sam knelt beside the tub and took the washcloth from her. He took some extra time to recheck the small wounds, but stopped when she winced. “Sorry, does that hurt?” he asked.
“Just a little sting.” Rayne stroked his cheek. “Is it still bleeding?”
Sam laid the washcloth over the side of the tub. “No. They appear minor.”
“Good.” She picked up the washcloth and ran it over her arm. “Do you know what happened? What Ivan’s ultimate goal was?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but I’ll find out. Clayton’s back at the prison interrogating him.”
Rayne stroked his cheek. “Babe, you really need to relax. You look like the world is ending.”
“If anything happened to you…” he trailed off.
“Sam. Nothing’s going to happen to me. Unless…” She sent him a cheeky grin. “If only this tub was big enough for both of us.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You must be feeling better.”
She nodded. “I could show you.”
“Later.”
“Fine.” Rayne’s lip pouted and she sighed. “How about you tell me who the other guy was.”
“Never mind about that right now.” Sam stroked her cheek. “Let’s get you into bed.”
Rayne gave him a horrified expression. “What? Why? It’s not even dinnertime!”
“You have been involved in a frightening experience and were stabbed—”
“—I wasn’t stabbed, Sam,” she interrupted. “He nicked me. It stings a little, but a band-aid will suffice.”
“What’s a band-aid?”
“Never mind.” She pushed herself up and stood.
Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the tub. He grabbed a towel and her robe and once she was dry, he sat her in a chair and gently brushed her hair. “Better?”
“Yes.” Rayne smiled up at him. “Don’t look so worried.”
“You’re getting into bed now.”
Rayne snorted. “The only way I’m getting in that bed is if you’re with me and we’re both naked.”
“Rayne, you’ve had a fright.”
“Oh, have I?” Rayne craned her neck to scowl up at him. “Babe, you cannot keep me locked up in a room because you’re afraid something’s going to happen to me. That’s not a way to live, and I would like to join our friends for dinner.”
Sam stared at her for several tense seconds.
“Sam?”
“Hm?”
Rayne rose to her feet and took the brush from his hands. “I am fine, you are fine, and if we join everyone for dinner, we’ll still be fine. You don’t need to put me in some kind of a protective bubble.”
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I think I do.”
“You’re annoying,” she said with a grin.
“So you’ve said.” Sam smirked.
“Come on.” Rayne laid her hands on his chest. “Let’s get dressed and head down for dinner.”
“All right, Angel.” Sam cupped her cheek. “But I’ve made a decision.”
Rayne raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“We’re going home.”
“What do you mean?”
Sam gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to inform Chris he’ll need to find someone else to oversee the prison. I’m taking you home.”
Rayne’s eyes were wide as saucers as she glanced up at him. “Are you trying to tell me you’re going to quit your job?”
“Yes. I don’t need it and have no reason to stay, but every reason to return home. You need a proper place to live. It’s unfair to make you live as a constant houseguest.” He made his way to the wardrobe. “Is that acceptable?”
Rayne grinned. “Are you kidding? I can’t wait.”
“Good. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”