Chapter Seven

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Chapter Seven

Snow and brittle grass crunched beneath Juliet's boots as she and Sergeant Jennings hurried across the night-cloaked field.

"I really hope this plan of yours works," Curtis muttered almost under his breath.

Juliet cast a longing glance over her shoulder as the farmhouse faded into the night. "It will." It must. Cole's very life depended on it. "Do you think-?"

Pow!

The high-powered crack of gunfire split the night air. She and Curtis froze instantly.

"That came from the direction of the house." Could it be Reynolds' men? "Cole!" Without a second though she lifted her skirts and sprinted for the house.

"Juliet, no!" Curtis grabbed her arm, roughly jerking her backward. "Let me go back. You must keep going on."

"But Cole is back there-"

"I'll go back to help him." Curtis held her fast. "There is no sense in all three of us getting killed. Take the information on to Colonel Raymond. Make sure our efforts, maybe even our deaths, are not in vain."

Torn, Juliet stared at the silhouette of the farmhouse. Cole needed her, but he'd also been willing to die to get his information to Colonel Raymond. "Very well. I'll go." Impulsively she grabbed the sergeant in a quick hug. "Be safe." She backed away. "Take care of Cole."

"I will." Curtis dug in his pouch and pressed a round metal object into her hand. "It's my compass. Take it." Without another word, he broke into a run toward the farmhouse.

Gulping back the lump forming in her throat, Juliet steeled her nerves and smoothed her thumb over the compass. Dodging into the shadows, she ran away from the farmhouse as fast as she dared in the darkness.

Deep in her bones she sensed this would be the last time she saw Cole or Sergeant Jennings alive.

~*~

Cole settled low behind a second story windowsill. Near as he could tell, this window was situated directly above the back door of the house. Gently he eased the windowpane upward and slid the pistol barrel out over the wood. Three men stood below, most likely keeping watch in case he fled from the house. Taking careful aim, he exhaled and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Crack.

The soldier in the middle dropped like a stone. The others flinched and skittered away in confusion.

Cole shifted a few inches and honed in on the man to the left. He cocked the hammer a second time and squeezed off another shot. The bullet found its mark, and the man howled as he collapsed to the ground.

The third man dodged nervously from side to side and finally looked up just as Cole took another shot. The round missed, and the man swung his weapon up and returned fire. Cole ducked and hunkered behind the windowsill as bullets thwacked against the outer side of the house.

"Turner is upstairs shooting dow-"

Bang! Another shot cut the words short and then silence filled the night. Confused, Cole drew a deep breath and carefully peered over the windowsill once more. Three bodies lay motionless on the ground below. A fourth figure slowly stalked past the bodies. Darkness made it difficult to discern the soldier's identity, but Cole was almost certain it was Jennings. After all, who else would shoot one of Reynolds' men? Hope sparked within Cole. He may just make it out of this mess alive. With those three down, there could only be Reynolds and one other man remaining.

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