Sergeant Grissom had stationed himself by the door and directed the litter bearers as they carried the wounded in. Alaina was in no mood to cool her heels outside and, towing a reluctant Saul behind her, pushed her way in immediately after Cole. The sergeant’s eyes passed briefly over her without a hint of recognition, went to rest on the towering black, then returned with an abruptness that left his jaw aslack. “What the hell—?” He peered closer. “Al? Is that you?” “Yassuh.” Alaina slipped into the swaggering role of youth with a practiced ease. “I had to put some darkening on so’s the two of us”—she jerked a grimy thumb over her shoulder at Saul—“could get the cap’n back here. Some of dem rebs ain’t too ‘ticular about how young a soldier is.” “You men bring the captain along.” Sergeant Grissom gestured to the bearers, then leaned out the door to call outside. “Just leave the rest of the men on the litters in the hallway.” He paced alongside Cole’s stretcher.
