The Men of Pride County: The Rebel Read Free Page B

and fed all they can hold. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, sir, Colonel Crowley.”
    Then, in a lower aside, the colonel said, “And don’t take your eyes off them for a minute.”

Chapter 2
    Nothing felt as good as washing off three months of captivity. Noble scrubbed until his skin was as raw as his emotions and stinging like his conscience.
    Because theirs wasn’t a freedom without cost. A cost dear to pay.
    The mood in the washhouse was strangely subdued. If his men had strong opinions, they kept them in check as baths were filled, then the filthy contents emptied, and razors scraped pallid faces bare.
    His own reflection startled him. He didn’t recognize the gaunt features at first, all hollowed by constant hunger, worries, and weariness. Not a vain man, he’d never put much store in looks, so it wasn’t his haggardness that alarmed him. It was the guilt shadowing his stare. He had the look of a man who was haunted.
    “You did the right thing, Noble.”
    George Allen’s freckled face appeared in theglass alongside his. Allen was close to twenty and looked all of maybe fourteen. An innate innocence kept his features free of harsh experience, even after the horrors he’d seen. A small-town boy, his only ambitions were to return to the church where he was baptized and to lead its congregation of fewer than four dozen. Allen’s spiritual optimism had pulled the men through more than one dismal night.
    And now the young reverend thought to apply that same gentle tolerance in the hope of quieting his commander’s regrets. Noble didn’t envy him the impossible task.
    “You’ve your men to think of before military pride,” Allen told him with conviction. “It wasn’t an easy choice, but it was the right choice.”
    “I wonder.”
    “Don’t second-guess your instincts, Noble. They’re all that’s kept us alive.”
    “I thought you believed it was divine intervention.”
    Used to his teasing mockery, George took no offense. “God works in a variety of ways.”
    Noble’s smile took a wry turn. “My reasons aren’t all that divine, George.”
    “Saving men at the sacrifice of your own honor?” His tone grew hushed, almost reverent. “I can’t think of a more unselfish motive—or one that will cause more personal pain.”
    “That’s only part of it. The rest—the rest is more inspired by darkness than divinity.”
    George’s unblemished brow puckered in concern. “I don’t understand.”
    Noble stared into those haunted eyes, trying to find the cocky confidence of the man who’d once stared back at him. “No, you wouldn’t, George. You’re a good, decent fellow with his mind on higher goals. I’m afraid mine are a bit more grounded in earthly pursuits.”
    “Such as?” He stared at his superior with a look akin to you-could-do-no-wrong worship. Noble hated to destroy that naïveté. But he did so with a single cutting claim.
    “Finding out who in our unit betrayed us to Crowley.”
    “Betrayed?” George whispered the word. “Noble, are you sure? I can’t believe that—that one of us—” He couldn’t finish, the idea too abhorrent.
    Noble cleaned off his razor with quick flicks of his hand, his mood as lethal as that bared blade. “I didn’t want to believe it, either, but there’s no other answer. Only our own men were privy to the details of the raid. There’s no other way Crowley could have been prepared and waiting for us. They sprang that trap before we could fire a shot. Someone told them to be there, George. And I intend to find out who.”
    There was a moment’s silence as the younger man absorbed the fierceness of his impassioned claim. He seemed shocked, alarmed—because his god had suddenly shown he had feet of clay? “And then what?”George asked at last, obviously disturbed. “Take matters into your own hands? Noble, there are higher courts than those of man.”
    “You mean leave the traitor’s judgment to God? I’m not that patient, my friend. Justice