CHAPTER 27
Marlie didn’t know what to do when she heard the sound of boots approaching. Ewan was unconscious, though the bleeding had stopped. She held her hands pressed to the wound, mind running through different cures. The truth was, she wasn’t sure he could be cured. That was an outcome she couldn’t accept.
She turned and caught sight of a lantern, and the reflection off of a familiar wicked sharp knife. She was nearly sick with fear but swallowed against the bile and stood. She wouldn’t let Cahill hurt Ewan. She wouldn’t. . . .
The swinging lantern grew closer, and that was when she realized it moved smoothly—there was no limp in the gait of the person who carried it.
“Any sight of them?” a familiar voice called out.
“Henry! Henry, help, it’s—”
“Quiet.”
The voice came from behind her, and when she turned she saw a man bent down beside Ewan, his hand at Ewan’s pale throat. The man was darker than her, a rough beard obscuring half his face. But when he looked up, his brown eyes fixed her with a hard stare that chilled her as much as Cahill’s had. No, not hard: There was a frightening, liquid anger there, barely constrained. He pulled one of Ewan’s arms around his neck as Henry approached.
“This who you were looking for?” Henry asked as he approached, lantern in one hand and Cahill’s knife in the other. Marlie did not ask how he acquired it or what had become of its owner.
“If it’s McCall it is,” the man lifting Ewan said.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Henry took a step closer, hand gripping the hilt of Cahill’s knife more tightly. “He said he was with that Loyal League group you mentioned and asked for the ginger. I thought he was a friend.”
“I’m not a friend,” he said. “I’m a man who doesn’t leave a debt unpaid. And I owe this man’s brother a debt.” He nearly spat the words, but his anger didn’t seem to be directed toward Ewan. “Help me get him to shelter.”
Henry and a few of the other skulkers helped carry Ewan to a nearby cave where a portion of the men had relocated after the attack. The skulkers had won in the skirmish against the Home Guard in Randolph, then doubled back to find their home base under attack.
Marlie dosed Ewan with the dandelion root sedative and set his broken bone as best she could. He came to for a moment, then receded back into sleep. He’d lost so much blood....
Henry constructed a sturdy splint made from the strong branches of cherrywood while she tended to the other skulkers.
When she returned to Ewan’s side the man who had come upon them in the woods, Daniel, sat staring at him. She took a seat on the ground beside him and waited for him to speak.
When he’d ignored her for far longer than was comfortable, she asked, “You’re with the Loyal League, you say?”
He nodded. “I was very surprised to learn there was an operative already on the ground. Particularly one I had never had any contact with. Particularly a Lynch.” He leaned back and regarded her, a derisive smirk on his face. “A rich, sheltered miss playing at war with her white soldier boy?”
Marlie resented the condescension in his tone. “You know nothing about me, sir, and whether my family has money or not is irrelevant to my utility. To the Cause.”
“And what utility is that?”
“I care for people. I heal them. A man like you might look down on that, but my maman did, and my maman’s maman before that. It’s a gift, and some in the Loyal League seem happy to receive it.”
“And what will you do when you tire of the war? Or he tires of you?” He inclined his head toward Ewan. Daniel’s blunt words skewered her, but she wouldn’t flinch away from questions she would ask of herself.
“Ewan isn’t the type to handle another’s feelings so casually. He doesn’t lie. And if I decide to make a go of it with him, I won’t regret it, no matter the outcome.”
“People change,” Daniel insisted. “Or sometimes they don’t, but you never truly knew them.”
“Do you speak from experience?” she asked. “Already forgotten your sweetheart and expect the same of every man?”
Daniel sucked in a breath, and Marlie reached a hand out instinctively, touching his shoulder. He had spoken from experience, she realized, but not the one she had assumed. “I’m sorry. I should not have lashed out at you.”
Daniel shook his head. “I should not have baited you into it. It seems these McCalls have all the luck when it comes to love.”
“I don’t—” Marlie stopped. “I’m not even sure what love is.”
“I watched you face off against an unknown man with nothing but your bare hands in order to protect this McCall,” Daniel said. “If you don’t know what love is, you’re well on your way to finding out.” He gave a bitter laugh. “May you have a better try at it than I did.”
* * *
Ewan awoke with the bright spring sunshine warming his face. He didn’t know where he was: There was a real bed, and daylight shining through a window. A Negro man stood beside the window, one arm braced against the frame.
Ewan’s mouth was very dry, but he managed one brittle word. “Marlie.”
The man turned to him. For a moment, his expression was gentle, but it flattened to something unreadable when he realized Ewan was awake, not talking in his sleep. “The prodigal son awakens,” the man said.
“Where is Marlie?” Ewan said, sitting up. His head swam, but the last thing he remembered was sitting with Marlie under a tree. Had she run when she had the chance? Had she been captured? His heart began thudding painfully and he reached a hand to his head.
“In Tennessee, as are you. She’s making you some tisane and bone broth, as she has been for the duration of this trip,” the man said. “I’m Daniel. Your brother and . . . sister-in-law had asked that we detectives keep an eye out for you, and they’d had word of a man fitting your description wanted for a prison break in the area.”
“Is the Loyal League in the habit of using resources to hunt down missing family members?” Ewan asked irritably. He wanted to see Marlie. He couldn’t trust the word of a strange man.
“No, but if an opportunity arises while on a mission, I’m not one to turn it down,” the man said. “And the opportunity to draw even with your brother is not one I could pass up.”
“Do you owe him so large a debt?” Ewan asked, confused. He knew Malcolm was charming, but the intensity in this man’s face was at odds with his words.
“I begrudge him that debt. I begrudge him his wife. But he saved me and I cannot live with him holding that over me too.”
The door opened and Marlie walked in carrying a tray. She was thinner than she had been, and her hair frizzed messily around her face, but the smile she gave him when she saw him sitting up was radiant.
“You’re awake,” she said, placing the tray on the table next to his bed.
“I certainly hope so. If this is a dream and I awaken in yet another Confederate prison, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.”
She laughed, and the sound soothed away his aches and worries.
“Daniel is going to accompany you to Kentucky,” she said.
Ewan glanced at the man. “Paying the debt still?”
Daniel nodded, then strode out of the room.
“There was a letter. From my aunt.” She ladled up a spoonful of broth and fed it to him. Ewan savored the rich flavors, but his gaze was on Marlie’s closed-off expression.
“She apologized. Said she loves me. Asked me to come back because Melody left soon after news of Cahill’s death.”
Ewan swallowed hard.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked.
Marlie inclined her head to the side. “I miss Sarah. I want to go home. But I don’t think Lynchwood is my home any longer. I’ll have to search for a new one.”
Ewan opened his mouth to speak, but found his lips wrapped around the spoon.
“My contact with the Loyal League has asked if I would accompany you and Daniel,” Marlie said. “He says there are places along the way where my work can be useful, and he’d like me to teach some of their operatives.”
Ewan felt both pride and worry, but pushed away the latter.
“That’s wonderful, Marlie,” he said. “And once I make it home?”
She spooned up some broth for him, her smile faltering.
“We’ll see, Socrates. Open up.”
“Don’t forget we still have to finish the translation,” he said before closing his mouth around the spoon. It seemed he wasn’t above manipulation.