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Lorna don’t think about it. We’re in a nice, cool room; you’re safe and you’re going to get well soon . . . very soon. It’s all worked out.”
    â€œAre we in . . . Saguaro?”
    â€œNo, not yet. But we’re with friends . . . in a place called San Melas.”
    â€œSan Melas.” She noticed the rope bruise on his face. “Jonathon, your face . . . what happened?”
    â€œIt’s nothing . . . nothing at all. I’m all right. But most important, so are you.”
    â€œBut how did you get us here?”
    â€œI didn’t . . . some people found us.”
    â€œIn the middle of the desert?”
    â€œYes. We were very lucky. They’ve asked me to deliver a sermon this Sunday. They have no minister since their church burned down. But now, you’ve got to rest.” He started to rise but still held her hand.
    â€œI will . . . but please stay here for just a little while. I want to tell you something.”
    He sat back on the side of the bed.
    â€œWhat is it, dear?”
    â€œJonathon . . . I never lost faith in you. Never. Do you remember in Monroe when you were going away . . . ?”
    They both remembered.
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    During the fiery heat of hostilities, Keyes had been away to get his law degree and came home to visit his fiancée, Lorna Benton. It was at the same time Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer came home to recover from his wounds at Culpeper—and to see his fiancée, Libbie Bacon.
    And at that time Monroe, Michigan, was no longer the semi-somnambulate little town it had been since its inception. After Gettysburg and Culpeper the tide was sweeping overwhelmingly in favor of the North. In fact, it was declared by most strategists that the war would have ended at Gettysburg if it were not for General George Meade’s reluctance to pursue Lee and decimate the torn, defeated, and retreating Confederate troops. Meade had been tabbed the “Reluctant General” and would soon be relieved of command.
    But it was just the opposite with Monroe’s war hero, the “Boy General,” George Armstrong Custer. The town had turned out to bask in the reflected glory of its returning celebrity. Champagne. Liquor. Parades. Rallies and hurrahs. For Custer and his beloved Libbie, all through the days and into the nights, they were surrounded by celebrants, well-wishers, and sycophants. It seemed that for them, there was no solitude . . . no escape—but the “Custer-Boy” had another strategy in mind . . . that didn’t quite work out.
    Keyes and Lorna were picnicking at an isolated location on the banks of the Raisin River and in the midst of an embrace, when they were interrupted by a voice from behind one of the trees.
    â€œSay there, Sport. Suppose you retreat to some other spot? This area is restricted.”
    â€œSuppose we don’t,” Keyes replied to the voice. “This is public property.”
    â€œNot anymore.” The voice shot back.
    â€œSays who?”
    â€œThe U.S. Army.”
    A young man dressed in civilian clothes stepped out from behind the tree.
    â€œI don’t see any uniform,” Keyes said.
    â€œIt’s resting and recovering . . . and so am I.”
    â€œRest and recover someplace else. We were here first.” Keyes motioned as he took a closer look at the intruder.
    Just then a beautiful young lady carrying a picnic basket stepped into sight.
    â€œLorna.” She smiled.
    â€œLibbie!” Lorna stood up. So did Keyes.
    Lorna Benton and Elizabeth Bacon had been friends since childhood.
    â€œLorna, this is my fiancé, George Custer.” Libbie’s smile broadened.
    â€œAnd this is my fiancé, Jon Keyes.” Lorna matched Libbie’s smile.
    â€œI’m sorry, General,” Keyes stammered. “I didn’t recognize you out of uniform . . .”
    â€œThat’s the whole idea,” Custer said. “We wanted to get away from