Hearts Under Siege (Civil War Collection) by Kathryn Kelly Read Free Book Online

minute preparations and goodbyes to family members, among them three neighbors, older yeomen farmers who didn’t own any slaves. However, Mr. Smith and Mr. Wickers each sacrificed a son for the cause.
    By the time the sun peaked above the horizon and the mist rose off the river, Ernest Dumon assembled everyone in his or her places.
    Alexandra stood in the distance, near the stables, holding her horse’s reins. An hour before, she said her goodbyes to Grand-père then pleaded fatigue, disappeared to her room, and donned her pants, a white cotton shirt, and riding boots that she had taken from Jeffy’s bureau earlier.
    She surveyed her appearance in the fulllength mirror, rather pleased with the outcome. With her thin frame, she could still pass as a young boy. Her chemise and baggy shirt concealed her small breasts.
    Cutting her hair bothered her the most, but with the deed completed, she would give it no further thought. As a girl, she’d always just pinned it up beneath a cap, but now she risked discovery if she happened to lose her hat. Brushing her shoulders, her hair was still longer than most males, but at least it wouldn’t stand out by cascading down her back.
    Roughen up your voice, Alexandra, or you’ll sound like a girl. She smiled while thinking about it and left the house, making her way in the direction of the stables.
    Riding astride the horse came naturally. Alexandra eschewed sidesaddles from the first time she mounted a horse. This morning, she’d chosen a three-year-old calm but reliable mare that she’d ridden many times before.
    After the doctor verified Alexandra’s prognosis of the burned girl yesterday, Alexandra confidently left her to Sadie’s care.
    Grand-père’s going off in the midst of war without her remained her biggest concern. Finally, after hours of arguing back and forth with herself, she decided it couldn’t be helped. Grand-père would have a handful of soldiers with him, and he could take care of himself. She could not leave without searching every inch of bank along the Mississippi River for her brother. She would find him.
    Alexandra’s eyes picked up a movement to her left. Curious, she mounted the horse and without attracting attention, she picked her way toward Grand-père. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she imagined legions of Yankees preparing to pounce from the trees. Her hand brushed the saddlebag for the reassuring feel of the revolver.
    ****
    Thomas tugged at the starched collar of his gray uniform, wadded up the paper in his hand, and stuffed it back into his pocket. He would need more than a piece of paper to convince Ernest Dumon to do what he prepared to ask.
    Fourteen men accompanied Thomas, each one dedicated to Major Davis. Thomas supposed he, too, could claim dedication to Major Davis in a twisted sort of way. Thomas needed to prove to Davis that he could carry out orders for the Confederacy if he had a chance of retrieving Alexandra’s locket. The irony of the assignment doubtless delighted Major Davis.
    Thomas raised a gloved hand and motioned for his troops to move forward. With the Confederate flag flying high, they rode in from the main road and turned down Chene Ruelle lane. One by one, the men spotted them, lifted their heads briefly and returned to their work. Fighting the bitter taste in his mouth, Thomas tried not to think of the consequences of what he geared up to do.
    Ernest Dumon sat on his horse, watching the men’s activities. Thomas reined his horse in front of him and for a moment, they sat eyeing each other.
    “Ernest Dumon,” he said, “my name is Captain Thomas Munroe. I am hereby ordered to place you under arrest and to seize all these supplies in your possession for the Confederate States of America.”
    Ernest stared at him as though Thomas had lost his mind and Thomas, too, fought to keep that thought at bay. He did not doubt that Ernest Dumon collected these supplies for the Confederate states and intended to turn them