"Oh, sugar," a solider re-enactor, a tall, slender one, cooed at her. "Did you think you'd be safer dressin' like a lad? Is that why you cut your hair?"
"Did a poor job of it, if you ask me," another said. "There's no mistakin' she's a woman. You need something much baggier, miss, if you don't mind me pointing out." All eyes seemed to be taking in her jeans and T-shirt, which seemed to gleam in the darkness.
"I never saw attire like that," the tall one said. "Where you from?"
"Montana," she snarled it.
"Mont Anna? Is that in Prince Edward County?"
Oh, please. She had to hand it to these guys. They were sure staying in character, pretending they never heard of Montana because it wasn't even a territory before the Civil War. They hadn't missed a beat ... none of them. What? Were they required to attend reenactment school?
She'd wasted enough time with them. "Please, let go of me."
The young lieutenant frowned down at her. "Ma'am, I can't let a woman wander around out here alone. It's not safe. Sheridan's army is burning everything. Don't you know what could happen to you?"
"Gee, let me think. You mean like being dragged into the bushes by several filthy men? Something like that?"
At least he had the decency to wince, while the others appeared to take some offense.
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