Read And One Wore Gray for Free Online Page A

her face, that radiant sunset burst of her hair.
    “Alive?” she demanded.
    “Yes.” He tried to form the word. No sound came from his parched lips.
    “Ma’am! Ma’am!” Someone was calling to hen “The shells are coming down again! This battle isn’t anywhere near over. Get inside!”
    “But, sir! This man—”
    “He’s a dead Reb, lady! A dead Reb officer, probably responsible for more’n half the dead Yanks lying around him. Why, he’s practically a murderer! Get inside!”
    A Yank! He needed the Yank to believe he was dead. Maybe he was so close to death it didn’t matter. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.
    He thought that he saw those dove-gray eyes once again. Exotic, really beautiful, slightly tilted at the corners. That face … ivory, with a delicate blush upon the cheeks. Those lips …
    “Ma’am—why it’s you. Callie! Callie Michaelson! God in heaven, Callie, get yourself into the house.”
    “Eric!” Callie gasped. “My Lord, I hadn’t expected to see a soldier I knew. This man—”
    “This man is a dead Reb!”
    The Yankee infantryman standing above him spit out of the side of his mouth, aiming for Daniel’s feet. He hit the ground instead.
    Ass! So that’s why you fellows can’t win this war, you can’t even aim spittle! Daniel thought.
    And you’d spit on a dead man, soldier! Pray God, sir, that I never rise to meet you in battle!
    “Callie, my God, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. Gregory would be tossing in his grave. Now please, get in the house and quit wasting good time on a bad Reb! Jesu, Callie, I can’t believe that you’re even touching that man!”
    But she was. He managed to raise his lashes. Her eyes met his. Those beautiful, entrancing gray eyes touched by silver, and those dark sunset lashes. Her hair was a halo of radiant dark fire….
    She jumped up, and his head cracked back down on the ground. Hard. The world went very dark. He fought to remain conscious.
    He reached out for her in desperation.
    Her delicate, black-shoed foot struck his fingers as she left him.
    His angel of mercy was gone.
    She had remained until she’d been reminded he was a Reb! he thought bitterly.
    Perhaps it was for the best. A Yankee company was moving over the lawn now, and he did not want it to be known that he lived. If there was one fate he wanted to avoid, it was that of prisoner of war.
    Best to let the Yanks think he was dead.
    She was gone, and then the Yanks moving across the lawn were gone. The light before him seemed to be fading for real. He was losing consciousness again.
    Perhaps it was a great kindness, for the shells began to burst once again. Riders came. Horses’ hooves just missed him as they trod over the mud and the grass. There was no slackening in the fire. There were no moments of peace when each side came hastily for their wounded.
    The dead could always wait.
    He saw a flash in the sky, and then he saw nothing more. Not for a long, long time.
    When he opened his eyes again, the world was nearly silent.
    Incongruously, he heard the chirping of a bird.
    He was alive. And he could move. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. He stretched out his legs. He closed his eyes and rested once again.
    He was stronger than he had been before. He could swallow, he could open and move his eyes easily. His fingers followed every direction his mind gave them. His feet moved when he commanded them.
    He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
    He was desperately thirsty. He opened his eyes again. His head still pounded, but the pounding was lessening. He tried to rise, and did so. He rubbed his neck, and moved slowly and carefully.
    Sitting up, he looked around. The ground was littered with men. Men in blue and men in gray.
    He looked toward the house. He had to reach it.
    The battle was over, and he did not know who had won. Maybe neither side had seen a clear victory. But his men were gone. They would have returned for him, or for his body, if they