Chapter 15
They stared at each other for one long, breathless moment—Andy with Sam asleep in his lap, the Union soldier out in the growing night. Red sunlight slanted around the stranger, casting the woods behind him into a stark tableau, and Andy waited for him to c**k the rifle in his hands, to aim it into the cabin, to aim it at him.
Why hadn’t he fired a shot yet?
He sees Sam’s coat, Andy thought, watching the soldier watch them. It’s blue like his own, so he knows Sam’s one of his men. But then he must see my haversack as well, and it doesn’t take a genius to see the Confederate markings along the front of it—my rank, my regiment, the damn flag—so he must know I’m a rebel.
The eyes that watched him confirmed Andy’s suspicions. He knows it, and he’s not quite sure what I’m doing
