Page 111 of Head Room
He had married her to punish himself.It was what she had most feared.
“You did not turn your back on Peter.”
He stared at her for a long moment.“No.No, I didn’t.”
(Notes: There’s been an action out on patrol.Ransom nearly killed, along with others.He and Brand cooperate to get all the soldiers out alive...Return to post...they’re drinking together, just the two of them...)
“If I asked a clerk I know in Washington to check the rolls of the Confederate army under a last name of Ransom, what rank would he find?”Brand asked slowly.
Ransom met the cold gray eyes pinning him.
“Lieutenant Colonel.”
He’d warned Peter so strongly never to reveal his true identity, counting it fortunate that Flora’s children had called him Uncle Ransom to separate him from another relative.
And now he’d revealed the secret.
One of Brand’s brows twitched.
Ransom gave him a dry smile.“Don’t be too impressed.With all the dyin’, there were plenty of chances for advancement for a man with a knack for surviving.”
Brand waved that off.“Takes more than that...And if you were captured, when, in ’63?”
“December the eleventh.”
Brand nodded, acknowledging that the exact date would be engraved on Ransom’s memory.“Hadn’t been all that much time for surviving to get you promoted.”He clearly didn’t expect an answer, because he added, “So you told officials you were a private.”
“No.”He’d started the truth, might as well finish it.He closed his eyes, then opened them again, not wanting to see the memories.“After they started offering these enlistments, one of my men died.We none of us were doing too good, and the guards didn’t care to look real close.He was buried as a lieutenant colonel.Not that it got Thomas any honors.”
Brand gave him a considering look.“That was Peter’s older brother?”
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the quiet officer was so damned good at listening.
“Yes.He was twenty.And when he died, they shoveled him into a grave as a twenty-nine-year-old without a blink.They treated us like animals.”
Brand’s eyes seemed to go opaque.“I had friends who died in Andersonville.”
This time Ransom gave the nod of acknowledgement.
Suffering didn’t know sides.
“They’re both your kin — this Thomas and Peter?”
“My sister’s boys.Flora took over when our Ma died.I wasn’t even a year yet, I don’t remember any other mother.”
“And you promised her you’d get them home safe.”
Ransom looked off to the distance.“Haven’t done much of a job of it.”
“You’ve kept one alive.”
“So far.”
“His coughing’s less.His lungs seem to be clearing.”
Ransom allowed himself a small shake of the head.“Do you keep an eye on everything?”
“I try.”The stern line of his mouth eased a little, and his voice came dry.“It’s the way you stay alive out here, Colonel Ransom.”
