Triumph by Heather Graham Page B

didn’t turn back. She reached the wagon, and the young dark-haired man with the scraggly beard and blade of grass in his teeth. “Corporal Randall, we’ve company for the trip back.”
    Randall arched a brow.
    “One of my servants, and her kin.”
    Randall looked over her shoulder, inspecting the three people following behind her. He spat out the blade of grass.
    “You ain’t bringing contraband slaves North, are you, Miss Sydney?”
    “Heavens, no! May I remind you, I went to prison for my Rebel espionage.”
    “Just checking, ma’am. You do have a Yank husband now.”
    “Indeed, sir, I try not to condemn him for his loyalty, and I pray he will not condemn me for mine.” She turned to Sissy and the thin pair who hovered just slightly behind her. “Up in the wagon, and let’s go.” Sissy, her “brother,” and his wife crawled up into the rear of the wagon. Sydney took a seat next to Corporal Randall, and he flicked the whip over the backs of the mules made available for her transport. Randall rode with his eyes straight ahead as they started out, then he turned to look at Sydney. “You do know these folks?”
    She sighed. “Sissy has worked with my husband, Corporal. I met her through him. She became my servant because of her work with my husband. She was born a free woman, but Corporal, at one point she was seized as property and richly abused by her master.” She stared at Randall. “It is possible, Corporal, to be a loyal Rebel, and deplore what monsters do to other human beings!”
    Randall looked ahead again, a small smile playing on his features. “Miss Sydney, you don’t need to go getting your dander up around me! I never did cotton to the idea of one man owning another. But then again, I never did cotton to the idea of the Federal government telling a Virginian what to do and what not to do. Still, I think we’d best get these mules moving, since folks are mighty touchy these days about all aspects of the war!”
    Close to the enemy lines, Randall climbed down from the wagon and looked up at her. He shook his head with a sigh.
    “I don’t much like leaving you.”
    “I’m almost within Yankee lines.”
    “Well, that’s just fine. As long as you meet up with Yankee troops. There’s too many misfits in this war now, and you may meet up with men who have no loyalty in any direction.”
    “Deserters?”
    “Deserters, drifters ... trash. White and black. You take care now, you hear? Move fast. And get within those Yankee lines.”
    “Thank you, Corporal Randall. I promise you, I’ll move with all speed.”
    “You do that for me,” Randall said, untying his horse’s lead from the rear of the wagon. He mounted his mare and came back around by the wagon, where Sydney had now taken up the reins. “God guard you,” he said, saluting Sydney.
    “And you.” She smiled, saluting him in return. “Stay well!”
    “I will! Wish you would have stayed with us, Miss Sydney!”
    Maybe I should have done exactly that! she thought. She should have just stayed with Brent, assisting him in his surgery.
    What had brought her back? The husband who’d had no desire to see her since the machinations of their marriage?
    Christmas. It was nearly Christmas. She needed to be there, in case he came back. Only because he had done what seemed to be the honorable thing in marrying her, she felt she owed him at least the appearance of a home and a wife loyal to him, if not to his country.
    Corporal Randall saluted again, called out to the mules, and when they had started up their journey again, he turned his mare, and left. When Sydney was certain they had ridden far apart down the long path, she turned around and called out sharply to Sissy where she sat in the rear of the wagon. “Come up here!”
    Sissy, she had come to realize, could play any role. She had seemed as meek and mild as the most timid servant girl when they had met—but then, she’d been following Sydney around and spying on her spying