Part 28 (1/2)
She looked up and couldn't find Will for a moment.
”You're shot,” said a boy's voice.
She looked at the kid, no taller than she, who stared at her left hand then her right shoulder where her red uniform darkened around a black hole in the fabric.
His eyes widened. ”You're a woman.”
”I need to get to General Hill.” Her voice came out reedy.
”But you're shot. You need to see the surgeon.”
She shook her head. ”It's not bad. I need Hill.”
The boy's face tightened with frustration. He couldn't be more than sixteen. The way he worried over her injured shoulder was adorable. She'd heard of the brotherly affection that fellow soldiers had for each other. Working intelligence, she'd never had much experience with it, except in Afghanistan when she'd been caught in a skirmish with a small brick of Green Berets. But even then, she'd been the outsider, the one they had protected. She'd never seen the way a soldier would worry in such a nurturing way over her. It touched her, and she wanted to tell Will about the boy soldier, she wanted Will to give him a medal. She wanted Will to stay alive so he could.
She glanced in the direction Will had been, then saw him circling his horse, a thicket of trees behind him, giving him shade to see better. He gave an order to three large men, probably sergeants, and they raced back into formation. G.o.d, he looked beautiful-no, magnificent-on that horse, giving orders, his face concentrating on what needed to be done. This was what she had most wanted to see. He'd been a soldier since he was seventeen years old. The only time he'd had off was when he'd married, and he'd tried his hand at other investments. But as soon as Julia had died, he'd returned to the military.
Erva's heart smashed around itself and was about to dissolve into nothing when she recalled the reason why Will had chosen to be here. She'd a.s.sumed he probably wanted to be close to this brotherly affection soldiers often had for each other. But ultimately, he'd been here because he'd given up.
Now he was here in this buckwheat field to sacrifice himself for her.
She didn't talk any further with the boy, but began jogging to Will. Every step seemed to jar a red-hot fire poker into her shoulder. But she kept on until she finally was about ten feet from him.
”Yes, yes, sergeant. Tell the men of Bixby's line to fall back fifty feet, make those Continentals creep forward, then we'll have them at our mercy,” Will said almost softly. His always gravely deep voice had an odd lilt to it, as if he knew every word he uttered might be his last. Then he added, ”But make sure to tell your men to have mercy. The Continentals are our brothers after all.”
The brawny man Will had been speaking with nodded. ”But sometimes, sir, brothers make the most fierce of enemies.”
Will nodded too. ”I'm afraid of just that, Sergeant. Make sure your men and Bixby's never cut the Continentals into an outright rout, will you?”
The sergeant saluted. ”Aye, sir.” Then he brushed past Erva as if he hadn't even seen her.
Erva lost her voice, when she needed it most. But she cleared her throat, which made Will look over his shoulder at her. At first, he gave her a cursory glance, but then he looked again, his eyes wide. Immediately, he jumped from his horse.
At that same instant they both heard the whiny, high-pitched zip of a musket shot. The tree where Will had been sitting close to exploded into shreds of bark.
Will halted and stared at the hole in the tree. That had been exactly where his chest had been, and Erva knew it. She made an odd noise-part relief and part anguish-then raced to him. Holding him around his neck, she enjoyed his clean male scent rus.h.i.+ng through her senses. Mixed with his usual smell was dirt and gunpowder. Unwrapping her arms from him, she searched his hard body with her eyes and hands for any injury.
”You're wounded,” he whispered.
She shook her head as she felt along his thick arms. ”It's nothing.”
He took her by her arms and shook her. ”Nothing! Good G.o.d, Erva, what the h.e.l.l are you doing here? And you're bleeding. Don't you dare tell me it's nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes. ”Don't you dare tell me I can't be here when I know perfectly well why you're here!”
He swallowed. ”You-you're not supposed to be here.”
Hot tears instantly fell down her face. ”And what? I'm supposed to wait and hear about your death from Sergeant McDougal?”
”No. I don't know how it works. Wouldn't the muses tell you?”
”Ah, no. We don't like sharing bad news,” said a feminine yet low voice with an unmistakable Greek accent.
Erva glanced up. There sat the muses on a nearby fence rail, wearing their golden togas, looking as if they were enjoying Shakespeare in the Park, instead of a full-fledged battle. But when Erva looked around, she realized the combat had ceased. No, it hadn't. It had paused. Every single man was frozen in odd positions, some in mid-scream, some in mid-shot.
Will turned too, glancing around. His mouth was ajar at the battle halted in the middle of action.
One of the muses jumped off the fence and strolled closer. ”As I said, we don't like sharing bad news, but with you two kids we have a bucket load to spill.”
The other one, Erva wasn't too sure which one was which, since they looked so similar, lunged off the fence too and walked close to the tree with the bullet hole. She shook her head as she inspected it. ”This was supposed to go straight through your heart, Will.”
He huffed and clutched onto Erva's non-wounded arm as if to hold him up.
The other muse, Erva thought it might be Erato, shook her head at her. ”Erva, what are you thinking, trying to change history?”
Erva sidestepped until she was in front of Will, protecting him with her body. ”I won't let you repeat history. I won't let you kill him.”
Clio stepped away from the tree and walked closer, her head c.o.c.ked to the side. ”Erva, come now. You of all people know the importance of history.”
”And with my death,” Will said, his voice hoa.r.s.e, ”wonderful things will happen to you, Erva.”
”Finally a voice of reason,” Clio said.
Erva whirled around and captured Will's coat in her hands, realizing her right arm, though, was much weaker. ”Wonderful things will happen? Don't you get it? Don't you understand that wonderful things have already happened? They happened because of you!”
Will's eyes reddened. He gave her a small smile. ”I hoped so. Because I know for myself, you are the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me.”
”And for me,” Erva cried. ”I won't live without you. I won't.”
A tear trickled down Will's sunken cheek. He hadn't shaved and the moisture thinned through his dark, two days old beard. He smiled again. ”Lord, I love you, Erva.”
”And I love you.”
”So it's love, is it?” Erato asked, carefully stepping closer.
”Yes,” Erva said savagely, defensively. ”Yes, it is, and there's nothing you can do now. I'm not going to leave him.”
”Not even for all your dreams come true in your own time?” Erato asked.
Erva shook her head wildly. ”You of all people, or whatever you are, should know about love. It exceeds all your expectations, all your wishes. My silly dreams of researching and writing are nothing compared to what I feel for Will.”
She felt Will's hand caress her neck then turned to look at him. He bowed his head and spoke quietly. ”No, my darling.”
”It's the truth!” Erva screamed.
Will nodded. ”I'm not arguing how you feel about me, and Lord knows how you have healed my heart, mended it until I was whole again, then made me a better man for it. But you are your dreams as well, darling. You can't give them up.”