Bounty Hunter

CHAPTER 6

After talking to Casey, Luke felt the need for some solitude. He took his rifle, climbed to the top of the bluff hanging over the wagons, and stretched out among the trees so he could gaze around the countryside.

Other than numerous columns of smoke rising in the distance marking the location of Richmond, he couldn’t see any signs of the war from where he lay. Here and there, the vegetation was starting to turn green with the approach of spring. A few birds winged through the blue sky.

It would have been a tranquil, beautiful scene if not for the never-ending rumble of artillery, which could be heard even so far from the capital city. The sound of the bombardment was a constant reminder of the ugliness lurking beneath the apparently peaceful surface.

He and his companions were putting that behind them, at least for the moment, Luke reminded himself. He was sure the war would catch up to them again, probably sooner rather than later, but he was going to enjoy the solitude while he could.

Weariness stole over him, begging him to close his eyes. He fought it off, knowing if he gave in to the temptation, he would fall asleep. The possibility of the Yankees sneaking up on the escort on his watch was unacceptable.

To help keep himself awake, he looked down at the brush where Ted Casey still hunkered. He caught a glimpse of the scout through the branches, but only because he knew where the man was. Luke thought it was very unlikely anybody else would spot Casey.

He recalled the way Casey had looked at the wagons while they were talking about getting rich. The memory brought a frown to Luke’s face.

As soon as President Davis had explained the details of the mission the night before, Luke had worried about entrusting the safety of so much gold to such a small group of men.

It made sense from a tactical standpoint. Nine men and two wagons could move a lot faster and attract a lot less attention than a company of soldiers.

But if some of those men turned out not to be trustworthy, it could lead to trouble. Luke knew he could trust Remy, Dale, and Edgar, and Colonel Lancaster was completely devoted to the Confederacy. The other four men were unknown quantities. In the long run, how would they react to the temptation of all that bullion?

Of course, they could be wondering the exact same thing about him and his friends, Luke reminded himself. Potter, Stratton, Richards, and Casey certainly hadn’t held back when it came to fighting the Yankees at the bridge. They had pitched right in, risking their lives for the cause . . . and also to save him and Remy.

Thinking about the cause made Luke ponder the future. It was pretty obvious the Confederate government couldn’t survive without the funds represented by that gold. Even if they made it safely to Georgia with the wagons, and the government set up a new capital there, would it mean anything except the Confederacy would cling to existence by its fingernails for another few weeks?

General William Tecumseh Sherman had already stormed through Georgia, leaving much of it in ruins. Atlanta—what was left of it after the Yankees had burned the city—was in Union hands. Once Richmond fell, as seemed inevitable, Grant could just turn around and march south, and the remnants of the Confederacy would be caught between two overwhelming forces.

The glorious cause, Luke thought bitterly. But despite his own cynicism, he knew he would fight to the end. Jensens didn’t give up, even in the face of certain defeat. Sometimes events had a way of taking unexpected turns.

Even so, Luke didn’t hold out much hope the mission would really change anything.

He lay on top of the bluff until it was time to wake up Dale for a turn on guard duty. He climbed down, went into the cave-like overhang, and reached under the lead wagon to where Dale had wrapped up in a blanket.

A shaken shoulder brought Dale out of his slumber. “Trouble?” he asked in a groggy voice.

“Nope,” Luke told him. “Everything’s quiet. But it’s your turn to stand guard.”

Dale yawned and stretched.

“One thing,” Luke went on quietly after glancing around to see that no one was going to overhear. “Keep an eye on Casey, Stratton, Potter, and Richards.”

“Why?” Dale asked with a frown.

“I just think it would be a good idea, until we’re sure how much we can count on them.”

Understanding dawned in Dale’s eyes. “All right, Luke. But so far they haven’t given us any reason not to trust them.”

“Maybe not,” Luke said, not wanting to get into the details of his conversation with Casey just yet, “but we want things to stay that way.”

Before the sun went down that evening, Edgar Millgard built a small fire under the bluff. The overhang would disperse the smoke enough that it wouldn’t be noticed. He cooked more of the salt pork, and they had biscuits with the meat instead of hardtack. “Don’t get used to eatin’ so fancy,” he warned the men with a grin. “We don’t have much flour.”

They washed the food down with brackish water from their canteens. Josh Richards sighed. “I sure could use a real drink right about now.”

“No liquor,” Lancaster snapped. “We can’t afford to let our guard down, even for a minute.”

“Don’t worry, Colonel,” Richards drawled. “I was just wishin’. We don’t have any redeye, anyway.” He glanced over at Stratton and winked fast.

Luke barely noticed it, but it made him wonder. A little later, while they were saddling the horses, he pretended not to see Stratton until he bumped into the man.

When Stratton turned with a scowl and said, “Hey, be careful,” he was close enough that Luke caught a faint whiff of whiskey on his breath.

“Sorry, Stratton, that was my fault. I wasn’t watching what I was doing.”

Stratton shrugged. “Well, no harm done. So don’t worry about it.”

Luke was going to worry about it, though. He was going to worry that either Stratton or Richards—or one of the other two, he supposed—had managed to sneak a bottle or a flask into their gear.

Drinking itself didn’t bother Luke. From time to time he liked to have a beer or a shot of corn liquor. But he’d never had the thirst for the stuff some men did, and he agreed with Colonel Lancaster. They didn’t need anything to distract them from their mission. They had been given the job of taking the bullion to Georgia, and as soldiers, it was their duty to carry out those orders.

It was just one more reason to keep an eye on the four men, he told himself.

Before they left the camp, Luke went over to Lancaster. “I’ve been thinking about something, Colonel.”

“What’s that, Jensen?”

“You seem to be the only one of us who knows exactly where we’re going.”

Lancaster frowned. “What’s your point? I’m the only officer with this detail. The rest of you are just enlisted men. I’m the only one who needs to know.”

Luke ignored the man’s annoying arrogance. “Begging your pardon, sir, but if anything were to happen to you, we wouldn’t know where to deliver the gold. I was thinking that if you had a map or something—”

“So you’d know exactly where to avoid if you tried to abscond with these wagons?” Lancaster broke in.

Luke couldn’t stop himself from responding angrily. “Colonel, I never said such a thing. I never even thought it!”

“Well, I can’t take any chances. President Davis himself picked me for this mission, and I don’t intend to let him, or the Confederacy, down. So you just concern yourself with your own responsibilities, Corporal, and let me worry about everything else.”

There was nothing Luke could do except grit his teeth for a second. “Yes, sir, Colonel.” He turned and went back to the wagons.

Remy was helping Dale hitch up the team to the lead wagon. He inclined his head toward Lancaster and asked, “What was that about, mon ami?”

“Remember we talked about how the colonel is the only one who knows where we’re going?” Luke asked.

“Sure.”

“Well, I said something to him about it . . . and he wasn’t inclined to share the information . . . which he told me in no uncertain terms.”

Dale chuckled. “I never minded serving under the colonel in the field. Thought he did a pretty good job, in fact. But put him out here in command of a small group like this and he’s sort of a jackass, ain’t he?”

“So far,” Luke agreed.

“You think he can manage to get all the way to Georgia without getting himself killed?”

“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Luke said. “I’d just as soon get the rest of us there without us getting killed.”