Page 49 of Christmas at Carnton

Then he saw Mrs. Zachary approach the man, and he realized who the amputee was. Jake stowed the notebook and pencil in a drawer of the workbench and went to meet them.

“Corporal Zachary.” Jake offered his hand, not surprised that Zachary saluted him first before accepting.

“It’s good to see you again, Captain Winston.”

“You too, Corporal. Though I’m not sure I would’ve recognized you without your wife here. Last time I saw you, you were all bandaged up.”

Zachary ran a hand over his stubbled jawline, the cuts and bruises still healing. “Doc finally took off the bandages this week. Which I told him might not be a good thing. Now my wife knows just how ugly I really am after all this.”

They all laughed, but Jake caught the way Kate Zachary gently touched her husband’s shoulder, as well as the fleeting shadow that eclipsed the Corporal’s face. Zachary absently reached down and fiddled with the knot tied at the knee of his right pant leg.

“Kate?”

Jake turned to see Aletta approaching them in the crowd. She hugged Kate first, then greeted Zachary with a smile.

Kate squeezed her hand. “Aletta, you’re looking radiant.”

Aletta made a face. “I certainly don’t feel that way, but you’re kind to say so.”

“Tell me,” Kate continued. “How are you feeling?”

As the women stepped to one side to talk, Jake saw an opportunity. “Corporal, how about some hot apple cider? And maybe a slice of pork roast?”

“Sounds good to me, sir.”

Zachary reached to push the wheels of his chair, but Jake beat him to it.

“I don’t mind driving, Corporal, if you don’t mind riding.”

“I don’t mind, Captain. Thank you, sir.”

Jake steered the wheelchair over the rough terrain and closer to the fire pit where a roasted pig hung on a spit. With one of the ladies helping them, they had plates and cups in no time, and Jake enjoyed talking to a fellow soldier about the war, about where they’d fought, their various encampments, and the latest news. What little there was with the recent lull in fighting.

“So . . .” Jake laid aside his empty plate. “How are you doing, Zachary?”

The man didn’t answer at first, then shook his head. “Not too good, Captain.”

“Call me Jake. We’re two soldiers at a Women’s Relief Society event. I think we can stand a little informality.”

Zachary laughed, then began to talk. About details obviously difficult for him to speak about, based on the ebb and flow of his words. And details also difficult to hear. But Jake wanted to listen, wanted to help. And by the time Aletta and Kate found them, he felt the flicker of an idea taking hold inside him.

An idea that hadn’t come from him. But that was meant for him, he was certain. Now . . . what to do with it? That was the question.

“You could come on the sleepout with us too, Mama. If you want.”

Aletta helped Andrew put on his coat, then buttoned it up. “I don’t think Colonel McGavock would appreciate having me along. I think this is intended to be only for boys. Of all ages,” she added, giving him a quick hug from behind.

What she didn’t tell him was that she was eager to spend an hour soaking in a warm tub Tempy had offered to heat for her. Every muscle in her body ached from the long weekend of baking and cooking—Sunday’s attendance equal or more to what it had been on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday—and she couldn’t wait to sink down into that hot, sudsy water. And to wash her hair would be sheer heaven.

“Do you have your binoculars so you can see the stars up close?”

Andrew whipped out one of two pairs of paper binoculars that he and Winder had made in class with Miss Clouston, then eyed her. “Mama, these don’t really make the stars bigger. They just—” He thought for a moment. “—focus my attention on whatever I’m lookin’ at.”

“Ah . . .” She smiled. How she wished Warren were still here to see this, to watch their son growing up, to teach Andrew all he needed to know about being a man, lessons she couldn’t begin to teach him.

But would have to. Somehow.

“What about your gloves, sweetheart?”