Spring Will Come by Ginny Dye Page A

told him the rest of the troopers were being hurried into ambush covering alongside the tracks.  They would open fire if the train stopped or left the tracks.  Sweat poured down his face as he pounded at the lock, but it did not budge. 
                  “Forget it, Lieutenant,” Stuart called.  “The train is almost here.  Remount and prepare for battle.”
                  Robert threw aside the bar and sprang for Granite.  He was barely in the saddle and moving toward cover when the train - a locomotive and a string of flatcars loaded with soldiers - roared around the curve.   Had the engineer spotted them?  Robert held his breath as the engine continued to slow.  A smile spread across his face as it drew almost to a halt and several Union soldiers stepped off.
                  Bang! 
                  Robert groaned as a pistol shot exploded in the stillness.  There had been no order given to fire yet.  Someone had gotten too excited.  Now, there was no choice but to press the attack.
                  “Fire!”  Stuart’s voice boomed a second later. 
                  “Rebels!” one of the startled Federals yelled.  At the exact same moment, the engineer put on full steam, and the engine began to pull away from the station. 
                  A barrage of gunfire exploded from the railroad right of way.  Robert watched in grim satisfaction as Union soldiers dropped from wounds or either threw themselves face first on the boxcars to avoid the fire.  A single horseman broke from cover and raced alongside the train.  At a full gallop, the horse drew even with the engine.  Robert heard the gunshot and saw the engineer slump in his seat, but the speed of the train continued to increase.   Within moments it was out of sight.  Wild cheering followed it. 
                  When the celebrating ended, Stuart reluctantly gave the order to press on.  Robert understood his reluctance.  Their mission so far had met with nothing but success.  How tempting it must be, knowing they were only four miles from White House, the main supply depot, to make that their next objective.  If it was destroyed, the Federals would be forced to retreat.  Robert smiled as he thought of what a coup it would be for twelve hundred cavalry troopers to force a hundred-thousand-man army to retreat.   His smile disappeared quickly, however.  General Stuart was making the best decision.  White House would surely be better defended than anything they had approached so far.  If they were to end up in a stiff battle, McClellan might have time to send in reinforcements that would close off their line of retreat.  They had accomplished their objectives.  Now it was time to get out of there. 
     

     
    Robert was sure the long night would never end.  The cavalry had the advantage of a bright moon to light the road, but exhaustion dogged them every step of the way.  There could be no stopping or rest.  There was no way to know how close behind them pursuing troops may have been.  Horses stumbled wearily as men nodded into sleep, almost falling off their horses in their futile attempts to gain some much needed respite.  In order to keep up the needed pace, prisoners rode double on the mules they had captured.  There was little talk as the line crept determinedly on.
                  Robert fought sleep by thinking about Carrie.   Her face rose before him, her beautiful eyes shining with love, giving him confidence.  He could hardly wait to tell her all about this mission.  He knew she would rest her chin in her hand and absorb everything he said.  He still could hardly believe Carrie loved him.  He had vacillated between rage and grief when she had turned down his proposal of marriage because of their differing beliefs about slavery.  An entire miserable year had passed while he tried, to no avail, to erase her from