November 1863
Mine Run, Orange County, Virginia

Captain David Reynolds of the Seventeenth Pennsylvania Volunteer Cavalry, Company I, angrily threw down the riding crop he had wrenched from the corporal’s clammy grasp. “Don’t ever let me see you mistreat your animal again, Corporal!” The prancing feet of the huge, black stallion he rode stomped the crop deep into the ever-present mud. “What kind of cavalryman are you, Forrester? You’d do well to remember your horse is your life!”

Corporal Silas Forrester’s face was beet red under the berating he was receiving, but David didn’t care; he had to make sure these men knew what was most important to keep them alive. A few snickers from the other blue-coated men in his unit, gathered around on their own mounts, just intensified Forrester’s scowl.

“Yes, sir,” Silas responded. “I understand completely, Captain Reynolds.” Silas yanked hard on the reins of his still-jittery horse, hurting the animal’s mouth. Its eyes rolled around, whites showing as it danced and stomped in discomfort. Silas was barely able to salute his commanding officer and remain seated on the animal.

David regarded Silas from under the brim of his hat, “Perhaps you had better have a few riding lessons, Forrester. See Lieutenant Jones later today. That’s an order!” David wheeled his own mount around and walked the horse away towards the group of tents clustered nearby in the open field. He could still hear the men lingering behind him.

“Jones will fix you right up, Forrester,” someone jeered.

“Yeah, a few lessons and you’ll be a real cavalryman like the rest of us.” A burst of raucous laughter followed this remark.

The last thing David heard from the group was Lieutenant Miller, David’s right-hand man, taking charge of the situation. “Move, soldiers!” Miller’s Irish-accented voice boomed. “Time to make camp! Forrester, get your horse properly settled and get some chow before you see Jones.”

Arriving at the cluster of tents, David dismounted, handed the reins to an aide, and strode towards a lone officer sitting in front of the blazing campfire. Anger was still simmering under his skin in a rush of hot blood.

“What’s going on over there, Dave?”

He made no answer. Grabbing a tin cup, he helped himself to the strong, black coffee condensing into mud over the flames, and sat on the canvas campstool, pulling his plumed hat low over his eyes. Jack Montgomery, he knew, was not one to be put off by his silence, no matter how hard David tried. Sure enough, Jack asked again. “Trouble in the ranks?”

Finally, David looked at the amused face of his best friend, knowing that when he did, all of the anger would diffuse away as if it had never been. There was just no way to meet those kindly brown eyes and familiar boyish face without being affected by the wisdom and understanding he always found there. “Just a fool mistreating his animal. Shouldn’t let it get to me, I know.”

Jack waved a dismissive hand. “It’s our job to try to keep these men as fight-worthy as possible, even if we have to tell them over and over which end of the rifle to point at the enemy!”

David felt the tension flow out of him like water. He pushed his hat back and regarded his old friend with a reluctant grin. “Done that, have you?” David asked. Jack nodded with a rueful expression. “Me, too. I just keep telling myself that these are all good Pennsylvania men and they will learn…eventually.”

Jack nodded again and his face brightened suddenly. He plucked a letter from his jacket and waved it in front of David’s face. “I got a new letter from Lila!” He grinned and brought the letter up to his nose for a good sniff. “Ahh, sweet perfume! I surely wish I were with her right now rather than here with you! You, my friend, just do not compare to my lovely Lila.”

“What does she say? Anything interesting happening in Philadelphia?” David asked.

“Nothing much of note. She wants me to come home…and I’d sure like to go.”

David frowned. “You can’t be thinking of doing that, are you?”

“Oh, no, I won’t leave any more than you will…but Dave, you could make some plans for after the war. You could use the money your grandfather left you to buy that farm you always wanted.” Jack leaned closer to him, eager as always to discuss David’s life choices.

David sighed. Jack was always trying to get him to follow his heart, no matter how hard it was to do that. Jack just didn’t understand. David took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, then put the hat back on, regarding his friend with a weary smile. “It would not work out like I would want. My father would see to it. As long as he could get to me, he would make my life hell. Getting away from his reach is just one of many reasons for me to stay in the army. But you already know that. Besides, I couldn’t let you fight without me to watch your back!”

“Right,” Jack murmured and nodded. “…watch my back, good, good.” Then, he opened up the letter from Lila and read it again, no longer paying any attention to David.

Taking a sip of the strong, hot coffee, David felt its comforting warmth spread through his stomach. He looked around at the camp starting to settle down in the gathering twilight. Tents and campfires were all around them. The noise of thousands of men and horses going about their business made for quite a racket, but David had long since learned to block it out when necessary.

Jack gave a loud, theatrical sigh, startling David from his thoughts, and drawing his attention back to his friend. “Why the hell am I here in this mud hole, cold in Virginia, with thousands of smelly men, instead of home with my sweet Lila, snug in our bed?” Jack asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “You really should get yourself a girl, Dave, old buddy. Women like Lila make this life worth living...”

David raised his tin cup in mock salute, stopping Jack’s discourse on the female sex. “I know, I know. To women everywhere, especially to Lila.” Jack began to expound enthusiastically on the virtues of marriage to his lovely wife. David, having heard this speech before, barely listened as his friend talked on and on. But then David wondered, for just a fleeting moment, whether the unsettling, growing aggression he experienced in battle would be lessened if he had someone to come home to.

* * * *
The battle lines were drawn. It could start all over again at any time. David sat high on a densely wooded hilltop astride his stallion, Napoleon, with a pair of field glasses trained on the earthen trenches and stacks of felled trees below him. This way of fighting was something relatively new; new since the great losses of Gettysburg. David shuddered at the memory. That hideous clash was the last time the two armies had ordered their men to meet the enemy shoulder to shoulder in tight formations, across open fields, only to watch them die by the hundreds as cannonballs mowed them down. Now, David watched as the infantry on both sides used shovels and axes to provide any kind of scant protection from the guns and the carnage.

The Seventeenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, however, did little of this type of defensive warfare. They were, by nature, supposed to move in on horseback and strike quickly. It was fast, dangerous and exciting work. This was what had drawn David to join them. Ride hard into battle. Feel the horse’s powerful strength under you, carrying you forward, always forward. Clash with the enemy. Fight off bayonets, dodge the bullets, and only dismount when needed. Slash and shoot, push the enemy back, then move on.

David’s first battle had sickened him. Killing men with whom he had no argument, aside from their affiliation with the Confederate beliefs, was hard in the beginning. To ride in and see the face of a man when your saber slashed open his gut or your bullet smashed into his face, had made David doubt his commitment to this fight. Gradually, with each passing skirmish and fight, he became hardened to the screams and began to feel the strange thrill of the battle. That feeling of joy that could accompany the fight when the bugles blew and the horses thundered down towards the masses of gray troops was something akin to a religious experience now. This was something locked deep in the nature of man that had been passed on through centuries—man the hunter, man the conqueror, man the beast. It was something felt in the gut and not experienced with the mind. David knew that if you thought about what you were doing, you could never function, and you would be dead in the blink of an eye.

The dawn was just breaking over the eastern horizon, but the actions of the men below indicated that little sleep had occurred that night. Men in gray uniforms swarmed around; they attempted to fortify their positions and provide themselves with cover, wheeled cannons into position, loaded rifles, fixed bayonets, and generally prepared to fight. Scattered shots rang out. Sharpshooters were already at work trying to pick off each other. All around David, the Union soldiers were amassing. His company sat silently on their mounts, awaiting the order to charge the enemy. As they watched the activity between the trees, each wondered how many of them would die today.

“Hold your position, men,” David shouted, hearing his words echoed down the line.

Loud booming started. The cannons had begun the assault. The carnage from the big guns seemed to incite the Rebels into a more frenzied state as David watched them scrambling to engage the enemy—his men. The spine-tingling Rebel yell could be heard above the roar of the cannon. David knew the plan. It was time.

David gave the order to Lieutenant Thomas Miller, who sat on his horse to his left. “Move it out, get into position at the bottom of this hill and quickly now.”

“Move out!” came the order passed from one horseman to the next, fanning out on either side of David.

They were all battle-weary cavalry soldiers, but sat with military bearing in the saddle, despite the bloodstains on their blue coats, powder-blackened faces and hands, and a bandaged injury here and there. He was proud of his men. They were fierce fighters and loyal to a man; even the difficult Forrester would come through, he knew it.

Down the hill the blue line streamed, flowing between the trees until they melded into a unit at the bottom. The red, white, and blue flag carried by one cavalryman billowed out in the breeze, readily visible by all who looked on and an inspirational sight to David. He raised his arm, saber in hand, as the horse pranced excitedly under him. Napoleon was ready. The big horse seemed to thrive on the noise and excitement of this war. David wondered how the creature was going to adjust to a quiet life on the farm he planned to buy when this war was over. If he survived, he reminded himself. There was no time to dwell on these thoughts. The war raged in front of them, and the men in gray were coming closer.

The bugle’s tones rang out, its sound distorted by the trees, but identifiable nonetheless—Colonel Kellogg had ordered the charge.

David indulged himself with a quick look to his right. Down the long, blue line of cavalrymen he saw Captain Jack Montgomery, his saber raised as well. The two men exchanged an unspoken message. Each was ready to lead the men into battle. The familiar excitement was starting to build in David now, and he welcomed it.

“Charge!” David bellowed, hearing the command echoed by the other officers. A shout went up from the cavalry. It had begun again. God save them all.

Reviews For MY ENEMY, MY LOVE by Diane M. Wylie

Rating: 5 Angels and Recommended Read

"Diane M Wylie has created characters that are so lifelike that the reader is dragged into all of the agonies and joys as they occur. The author has done considerable research into this time period, and this enthralling story unravels as if the reader were reliving events. My Enemy, My Love is much more than an impressive debut. It is a heart-warming romance that will have readers sighing as they relive “first-kiss” moments, then despairing over the fate of the many fine young men who rode off to battle. If you enjoy historical romance, I strongly urge you to read this story. For this reader, it is a keeper with a + + +!"

Reviewed by Naomi, Fallen Angels Reviews

"This [book] is so good it would be a wonderful movie. I thoroughly enjoyed the romance between David and Jenny. The scenes are well written taking you into where you can just about see the lands and the characters. There are many emotions running rapid in this book, between friends, lovers, family and the love of lands the characters call home. This was a page-turner and highly recommended."

Reviewed by Ruby, Fallen Angels Reviews

Rating: 5 Hearts

"Diane Wylie’s premier book, My Enemy, My Love, is the kind of love story the reader will want to sit and savor. From the brutality of the Civil War, to the tender love between Jenny and David, the reader is swept up and transported back to another time and place."

Reviewed by Gina, Love Romances

Blue Ribbon Rating: 4.5

"Diane Wylie's debut novel is sure to take you on an emotional roller coaster ride, from the hauntingly realistic battle scenes to the tender love scenes between Jenny and David. If you enjoy Civil War era historical romances, this is one book that shouldn't be passed over... Diane Wylie is one of those up-and-coming authors we should keep our eye on."

Reviewed by Sherri Myers, Romance Junkies

Rating: 4 Cups

"My Enemy, My Love is an emotionally moving story of betrayal, hope and love. Jenny has never known a love like the one she has with David and in the turbulent times of war, together they will risk everything to make it work. I thoroughly enjoyed this story as it relates of how far they would go to stay together and keep their sanity, from freeing Jenny’s father from incarceration to rescuing David and others from an enemy prison camp. This is definitely a wonderful story of hope."

Reviewed by Sheryl, Coffee Time Romance

Overall rating: 4 hearts

"The love between David and Jenny grows deep and true as they fight to overcome the many challenges and hardships of their times. Endearing family relationships keep you turning the pages to see what will happen next. There is just enough suspense to keep you involved and the story flows along quickly to its conclusion. Diane Wylie is a new voice in historical romance who will please many fans with her fresh perspective of an old story."

Reviewer: Patrice, The Romance Studio