Meet Me in the Gray

Six

Six

Shouts followed Everett through the night blackened woods. He tightly gripped Grace's hand, guiding her as best he could through the thick underbrush. Twigs and brambles tugged at his legs, and more than once Grace tripped on her full skirts. Despite the heavy darkness, he urged them forward, keeping to the inkiest shadows. Eventually, the shouts dissipated and only the chirp of crickets met his ears.

Even so, Everett pressed on. The deeper into the woods they traveled the safer they would be.

Finally, Grace slowed, tugging on his arm. "Everett," she gasped, completely breathless. "I-I need to-" she released his hand and bent over at the waist, sucking ragged breaths into her lungs. "I need to rest."

"I'm sorry, lass. Take a moment, but we need to keep moving. They'll be looking for us."

She nodded, her expression indiscernible in the night, but he could imagine the despair in her beautiful face. After several quiet moments she straightened and turned to him. "What are we going to do?"

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "We'll figure this out, love. Let's find a place to rest for the night and talk it through."

She buried her face in his chest and he could feel her heartache. The certainty that Sarah had orchestrated the Confederate escape and framed Grace solidified within him. He laid his cheek against her soft, sweet smelling hair. Why would anyone treat Grace with such malice?

"Come, my love, we must keep moving."

Grace nodded and pulled away. He took her hand, twining her fingers through his own. Hand in hand the two of them picked through the trees and foliage much more slowly than before. Eventually they crossed a road, which thankfully, appeared deserted.

"I see a barn over there." Grace pointed to the silhouette of a rounded roof through the trees. "Maybe we could hide there for the night."

Everett nodded, striking off toward the farm. "Stay off the road," he urged, keep just inside the trees in case there are soldiers about."

"This farm looks familiar," Grace murmured as they approached the rundown wooden fence behind the barn. "Is this young Cody's farm?"

"Bloody hell," Everett cursed. "Of all the farms to run across it would have to be this one. The lad's father nearly shot us the last time."

Grace was quiet for a long moment and Everett could all but hear the wheels turning in her head. "He never has to know we're here," she reasoned. "No one does. Let's just take cover in an outbuilding until we decide what to do."

Frustrated, Everett raked a hand through his hair. "Very well. But we'll have to keep a weather eye out."

Grace nodded and then ducked under the old fence.

Everett put his hands on the top rung and vaulted it. Carefully the two of them waded through the overgrown grass to the corner of the barn.

"Ruff!" The sharp bark of a dog split the night air followed by a howl of alarm.

"Oh, no," Grace said, dread heavy in her voice. "We've been had."

The creak of a door came from the house and lantern light illuminated a man striding across the back porch. "What is it boy? Coyotes after the chickens again?"

"Be ready to run," Everett whispered.

A fairly small dog with pointed ears and black and white patches trotted toward them, growling.

"Whose there?" The man on the porch hollered. "What are you doing on my property?"

Grace lifted both hands and stepped forward. "We mean no harm, sir. We need help."