ting--the same words he would have used three years
ago had they met in the hall of Red Springs on their way to breakfast.
He wanted to laugh, or was it really laughter which lumped in his
throat?

Her momentary expression of outrage faded as she leaned forward to study
his face, and she relaxed her first half-threatening grip on her whip.
Though Aunt Marianna had never been a beauty, her present air of
assurance and authority became her, just as the smart riding habit was
better suited to her somewhat angular frame than the ruffles and bows of
the drawing room.

"Drew!" Her recognition of his identity had come more slowly than
Boyd's, and it sounded almost wary.

"At your service, ma'am." He found himself again using the graces of
another way of life, far removed from his sweat-stained shirt and
patched breeches. He shot a glance over his shoulder, making sure they
were safely alone on that stretch of highway. After all, one horse among
so many would be no great loss to his commander. "You'd better turn
around. The boys'll have Lady Jane out of the shaft before you get into
Lexington if you keep on. And the Yankees are still pepperin' the place
with round shot." He wondered why she was driving without a groom, but
did not quite dare to ask.

"Drew, is Boyd here with you?"

"Boyd?"

"Don't be evasive with me, boy!" She rapped that out with an officer's
snap. "He left a note for Merry--two words misspelled and a big
blot--all foolishness about joining Morgan. Said you had been to Red
Springs, and he was going along. Why did you do it, Drew? Cousin
Merry ... after Sheldon, she can't lose Boyd, too! To put such a wild
idea into that child's head!"

Drew's lips thinned into a half grimace. He was still cast in the role
of culprit, it seemed. "I didn't influence Boyd to do anything, Aunt
Marianna. I told him I wouldn't take him with me, and I meant it. If he
ran away, it was his own doin'."

She was still measuring him with that intent look as if he were a
slightly unsatisfactory colt being put through his paces in the training
paddock.

"Then you'll help me get him back home?" That was more a statement than
a question, delivered in a voice which was all Mattock, enough to awaken
by the mere sound all the old resistance in him.

He nodded at the Lexington road. "There are several thousand men ahead
there, ma'am. Hunting Boyd out if he wants to hide from me--and he
will--is impossible. He's big enough to pass a