Catching the Column

"That's good. He's with the 60th rifles. Oh, I told you that already. They're often up at the front. But then, you know all about that, I'm sure." She was soon able to hear and then see the baggage train up ahead, the sutlers and wives and children and various camp followers like herself. That was where she usually marched. She wondered if any of them had noticed her absence.

Still holding onto the pommel, she reached up with her other hand and pulled her shawl over her head like a hood, hanging down beside her face.

Newbury didn't much like the idea of leaving Maggie Evans alone with anyone, even an officer, but he managed to keep a tight lid on his objections. She would be back up with the 60th shortly enough. That was the safest place to be.

"Will you be goin' back to the baggage train now?" Newbury asked, glancing uncertainly at Jenny. He felt at odd ends now that they had finally made it back to the column. Almost reluctant to go back to his company, if he was honest with himself.

Jenny looked at him in surprise, although she could barely see him in the dark. "Well yes, of course. Aren't you going to ride with me? Up to the column at least? Sit down, dear - you've been on your feet all day." She reached out and pulled him towards the cart. "Besides, I can lean on your shoulder which will be a lot more comfortable than this box."

"Aye," he said and let himself be pulled toward the cart. It would be nice to ride for a bit, he decided. His feet were a bit sore. Never mind his side.

"Glad to be back with the column?"

"I don't care," she mumbled into his shoulder as she made herself comfortable. "Well yes, it's home, isn't it? And I'm glad for Maggie. Poor Maggie. Which side is your wound on? Don't want to poke you. There."

Home. Newbury shifted his arm slightly as Jenny leaned against him, uncaring which side hurt. It didn't matter.

"Aye. And it's good to be home," he said quietly. "Get you some sleep."

Jenny did not wait to be told twice. As soon as she was settled, she fell fast asleep on his shoulder.

He grinned foolishly in the dark. This wasn't exactly how he'd figured their return to the army would go, but he wasn't about to object.

The wagon trundled along on its slow meandering way. Eventually they would catch up with the baggage train, but Newbury found the swaying and occasional bounce soothing. He rested his cheek against the top of Jenny's head and let his eyes close.

Not long after, the owner of the cart shouted back to him. "Hey, we're here, mate. Hey there! Rifleman!"

What? Newbury twitched at the call, not knowing immediately where "here" was. Then he felt the weight on his shoulder and remembered, and quietly cursed the cart's owner for his poorly-timed hail.

"Time to rouse," he muttered to Jenny, hating to wake her.

Jenny responded with an irritable whine, but eventually she roused herself and looked blearily at her surroundings. "Ugh. I'll go find Jacky Newcombe. He's usually got room in his wagon." She reached back and retrieved her own pack and Maggie's. "What are you going to do now?"

"Probably go back up to the company," he answered, easing himself down from the wagon. He didn't relish the idea of trying to catch up with the swift-marching Rifles but he didn't want to stay away too long, lest the Provosts start looking for him.

"Too bad. Your letter says you could have stayed in Coimbra until Saturday, after all. They should give you a couple days' rest. Or, you could hide your uniform and just pretend Rifleman Newbury wasn't back yet. What's the opposite of desertion?"

Hm. Newbury considered that. He hadn't thought about that. "I dunno. Could maybe get a surgeon's note or something."

Now that he did think about it, he wasn't in that great a hurry to leave the baggage train. His ribs hurt still, for one, and he found himself reluctant to part company with Jenny. What the devil was wrong with him?

"I think you should. And I'm not just being a tease." She rubbed the donkey on its nose. "If Captain Vickery said you could stay till Saturday, I'm sure he won't mind you resting a little longer, since you're back early. I guess when he sees Maggie - if he sees her - he'll know you're probably back too."

"True." Newbury looked away in the darkness, wondering if he could convince the sawbones to write him a pass. "Do you figure she's caught up to them yet?"

"I don't think so. He was taking the horse pretty slow - Captain Hunter, I mean." Jenny grimaced at the thought of riding a horse in the kind of pain that Maggie was in, but Joe would probably rather not think about that. "She's never been on a horse before. Why?"

He slung his rifle from his good shoulder and grimaced. "Sooner Cotton knows she's all right, the better. They'll not miss me 'til tomorrow, once she gets back up with them."

Jenny squinted at him in the dark. "Are you sure?"

"Aye." Newbury shrugged. "I s'pose... better go off to find the sawbones, now. This's good night, I guess."

He felt terribly awkward and thought immediately that he could have said that better.

"Yes. Well at least you won't have far to go. The surgeons are usually near the back, like us ragtag. You can take the donkey if you like, though she's just barely plodding along. And if the sawbones says you can ride in a wagon, come and find mine." She reached out to take his hand and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Joe. Maggie and me - well, I am more than grateful, truly."

After sometime they'd finally caught up with the column, and George led them alongside it, further up the road to where the 60th Rifles could be found.

Now, each step closer filled Maggie with increased dread. In the baggage train she had been afraid that some friend would see her and recognize her and call out her name. Why that should frighten her she could not say. But now, passing beside the other regiments she suddenly realized a terror she had not expected at all, because he would be there, that sergeant. Had she been walking, she would have been paralyzed in her tracks. As it was, this horse was carrying her further and further forward, closer and closer her doom.

"I can't! I can't. Stop, stop, please sir stop!" she gasped, letting go of the pommel and reaching out blindly for help.

George halted the horse and letting the reins drop, reached out to catch Maggie, afraid that she will fall off the saddle any moment. 'Maggie, Maggie, it's alright. You know that no one can hurt you now. No one.'

"No. No, no!" she gasped, grabbing at him and ready to propel herself off of the horse and away into the darkness. She could not breathe, she would be sick in a moment, and her heart was about to burst from her body.