WARMTH GREETED HER and she surveyed the freestanding fireplace and chimney built in the middle of the large tent, reminding her of a teepee. A hole had been cut into the roof of the canvas for the brick and the heat from the fire warmed the space quite adequately.

“This way, Sophie.” Christine pulled her toward one of the rows of neatly set cots.

“Mrs. Martin?”

The ladies turned to see a handsome man moving toward them and Sophie felt Christine stiffen next to her. “Dr. Henderson.”

Sophie noted that Dr. Henderson, tall with light blond hair and a clean-shaven face, only had eyes for Christine. His smile was quick and deep, and Sophie felt instant comfort. She glanced at Christine and raised an eyebrow.

Was that a sigh from my very proper friend?

Sophie watched Christine closely and nearly laughed out loud. She suddenly had a dreamy expression covering her face.

“You aren’t on the roster today, is everything all right?” he asked.

Christine shook her head. “No, not at all.”

A moment. Another sigh.

“Sorry, where are my manners? Dr. Henderson, may I introduce Mrs. James Ford? Sophie, this is Dr. Stephen Henderson.”

Sophie reached her hand out and shook his. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Henderson.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Ford. Is there anything I can assist with?”

“We came to visit the young soldier moved here by Dr. Wade.”

Stephen smiled. “Ah, yes. He’s just come out of surgery.”

“Is he awake?”

“Not yet. I believe he’ll be out for a while.” Stephen smiled in Sophie’s direction. “You must have made quite the impression.”

“I’m sorry.” Sophie blushed. “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble.”

Stephen leaned forward and whispered, “Anything that will bring Grant Palmer to his knees cannot be construed as trouble.”

Christine let out a quiet gasp. “I didn’t know you had an evil side, Dr. Henderson.”

Sophie’s head whipped up.

Is she flirting with him?

“Dr. Henderson? Oh, doctor.”

The group turned at the sing-song sound of a woman moving toward them. Sophie heard Christine groan, albeit under her breath, as the pretty young woman waved at the doctor.

“Miss Sylvester? Is something amiss?”

The woman stalled briefly. “Uh, no, nothing amiss. I had but a simple question.”

“I bet you did,” Christine muttered.

Stephen smiled. “I’ll be happy to answer it later, if that’s agreeable.”

“Of course,” she said, although Sophie noticed her frown when she looked in Christine’s direction. “Christine, you’re not on the roster today.”

“No, Lila, you’re correct. We are here to visit with a patient. This is Mrs. Ford. Sophie, this is Lila Sylvester. She’s one of our volunteers.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sophie said.

Lila nodded but didn’t repeat the sentiment. A minute of awkward silence ensued before Stephen turned his focus back to Christine, effectively ignoring Lila, and Sophie nearly snorted at the look of derision the woman sent Christine.

“I’ll take you to the young man,” Stephen offered and turned Christine towards the cot.

“Do you know his name?” Sophie asked.

He frowned. “Didn’t Dr. Wade tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Christine asked.

“It’s his nephew, Topper.”

“Oh my word,” Christine breathed out. “He must be frantic.”

Stephen nodded. “He’s given Topper’s care over to me, but it was quite tense for a few days.”

“I bet,” Sophie said, as they reached Topper’s bedside. “He looks so peaceful and very well cared for.”

Stephen smiled. “We were given strict instructions.”

Sophie sat in the chair Stephen pulled up next to the bed and inspected the young man’s wounds. “His eye looks much better.”

“Without going into detail, we were able to repair it without cutting, which lowers the risk of infection.”

Sophie gently stroked her fingers over the soldier’s forehead. “Remarkable. He looks so well. How is the wound at his wrist?”

“I closed the skin around his lost hand, but time will tell how quickly he will heal. My focus at the moment is to keep it from infection. The rest of his injuries were easier to repair, so I’m hopeful that if he wakes up soon, he should make a complete recovery.”

“I’d like to sit with him, if that’s all right,” Sophie said.

“Of course.” Stephen’s gaze lingered on Christine. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Sophie saw Christine blush as she nodded and her eyes followed him as he walked down the aisle. Sophie grabbed her hand. “What the heck was that all about?”

Christine shrugged. “I’m certain I have no idea.”

“You like him,” Sophie insisted in a whisper.

Christine snorted. “Don’t be silly.”

Before Sophie could continue her barrage of questions, the soldier began to thrash. Christine moved quickly to hold him down, surprising Sophie with her force. “Hold him, Sophie but watch his arm.”

Sophie placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed as hard as she could. The boy was strong and obviously experiencing fight or flight mode.

“Shhh,” Sophie whispered. “You’re okay. We’re here to help. No one will harm you.”

Christine rushed to find the doctor, leaving Sophie to figure out how to calm him alone. All she could think to do was sing, so she began to hum “Amazing Grace” as quietly as she could. It took a few minutes but he began to settle. Stephen arrived back at the cot, Christine and Lila close behind, and Sophie moved out of his way so that he could examine him.

“Son? Can you hear me?”

A groan sounded from the soldier and his tongue darted between chapped lips.

“He looks thirsty,” Sophie said.

“I’ll get some water,” Christine offered.

“Son? Can you open your eyes for me?” Stephen spoke softly as he took the soldier’s pulse and tried to rouse him. “You need to try and wake up if you can.” Stephen lowered his wrist then slipped an arm behind his shoulders. “I’m going to sit you up.”

Christine returned with a tin cup and handed it to Stephen, who tipped the rim between the soldier’s lips. Sputtering, the soldier’s eyes flew open and he tried to push Stephen’s arm away. “Get away!”

“You’re safe,” Stephen assured. “Drink.”

Sophie was surprised the soldier acquiesced so quickly. Stephen was able to get him to drink the entire cup of water and stay calm enough for Stephen to check several of his wounds. Sophie insisted on sitting by his cot for another hour, although the man never spoke. She knew he was awake but couldn’t coax his name or any other information out of him.

Although the rest of the day was a series of motions, Sophie faked her way through it and fell into bed, hoping the next few days, weeks, months, might bring answers.

* * *

The next morning, Sophie stepped off the bottom stair and almost ran into the doctor.

“Just the lady I needed to see.”

Sophie smiled. “Good morning, Michael.”

“May I have a word?”

“Of course.” Following him down the hall toward his office, Sophie’s heart began to beat a little faster. She felt as though she was being called to the principal’s office.

“Please, have a seat.”

Michael waited for Sophie to sit down and then sat in the chair behind his large, walnut desk, watching her. Sophie squirmed in her seat, growing more and more uncomfortable.

“Christine explained to me that you were insistent on a young soldier’s care.”

Sophie nodded. “I was. I’m sorry, Michael if I overstepped my bounds.”

He held his hand up. “You didn’t.”

“Dr. Henderson said he’s your nephew?”

Michael nodded stiltedly. “My youngest brother’s boy. He’s sixteen years old.”

“Sixteen?” Sophie stood. “How did he get into the army?”

Chuckling sardonically, Michael slapped his hand on his knee. “He lied about his age, I would imagine.”

Sophie started to pace. “Wouldn’t he need paperwork for that?”

“Paperwork isn’t difficult to forge.”

“Oh, Michael. I’m so sorry. What did his parents say?”

“My brother, Robert, has been at war for over a year now. He probably doesn’t know. My sister-in-law, however, sent me a missive several months ago. Topper disappeared with his older brother, Tracker, and she asked me to use my influence to find them. I have been unsuccessful.” Michael leaned forward. “Until now, of course.”

“Topper?”

Michael chuckled. “When Christopher was born, Travis was two and could not say Christopher. He was forever Topper after that.”

Sophie smiled. “Where do they live?”

“New York. I made some enquiries, and a Christopher Wade is listed as Private, 2nd Regiment, NY Vet Cavalry Company A. He is listed as eighteen years old.”

“What about Tracker?” Sophie chewed her thumbnail.

Michael took a deep breath. “A Travis Wade, also Private, is listed as deceased.”

“Michael,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”

“If it weren’t for you, he’d have been lost.”

Sophie smiled gently. “What happens now?”

“Well, he’s going to come home. Here, rather. I have sent a wire to Sarah, and I would imagine she’ll arrive in the next few weeks, but I’m going to suggest he stay with us.”

“Will she be all right with that?”

Michael chuckled. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

Sophie sat down again.

“I’m going to visit with him today. I was hoping you might join me.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Me? Why?”

“I understand you have a lovely singing voice.”

Sophie blushed crimson. “Christine likes to exaggerate.”

“It wasn’t Christine who told me. The hospital is abuzz with stories of the lady who calmed him with a song.”

Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please.”

“Will you join me?”

“Well, of course. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’m happy to try.”

Michael smiled. “Excellent. I’d like to leave just after lunch.”

Sophie stood and left his office. Wandering the halls of the house, she pondered the young man, and what kind of event would have made him leave his home at such a young age. Without answers readily available, she decided to visit Samson. He might not be able to talk to her, but he certainly made her feel welcome.

Approaching the stables, she waved to a few of the soldiers she’d gotten to know over the past few months and then made her way into the darkness of the barn. She let out a whistle and smiled when Samson’s trumpet of welcome came and then the familiar sight of him poking his head out of his stall. Sophie grabbed a brush and let herself into his stall. “Hello, boy. You are a sight for sore eyes this morning.”

Michael found her in Samson’s stall over an hour later and let her know lunch was ready. With a final pat, she bolted Samson in and followed Michael back to the house. They grabbed a quick bite and then took off for the hospital.

They pulled up to the front of the hospital, and Michael lifted Sophie down from his buggy. He followed her inside and they were met by Stephen. “Michael. He is awake and agitated.”

“Is he lucid?”

Stephen nodded. “Yes, as you requested, we’ve given him nothing for the pain.”

“Thank you.” Michael turned to face Sophie. “Follow me, please.”

They walked down the wide aisle toward the cot that held Michael’s nephew. He wasn’t hard to find, as he was the one yelling obscenities at “the bastards who took my hand.” Sophie couldn’t quite comprehend Michael’s calm. She didn’t know the young man, and her heart broke for him, tears already forcing to spill from her eyes.

One of the nurses tried her best to hold him still, but he fought her, and managed to clock her in the face with his stump. He screamed in agony, and Michael and Stephen rushed to assist. Sophie followed close behind.

“Topper.” Michael grasped the boy’s shoulders. “Calm down.”

Sophie checked on the nurse, relieved to see she was fine, and then made her way to Topper’s cot. He continued to resist Michael so Stephen lent a hand—and brute strength.

“We could give him laudanum.”

“No!” Topper bellowed.

“Topper, listen to me. Listen to my voice. You are safe here.” Michael sat next to him.

Sophie watched him calm, and then his eyes opened, sudden recognition flashing across his face. “Uncle?”

“Yes, Topper, it’s me. You are safe here.”

Topper broke down, and Sophie watched Michael pull him into his embrace. The soldier, now reduced to a frightened little boy, took comfort in the arms of the large man.

“All is well, Topper. You’ll stay with us, and Nona will take good care of you.”

“Not safe, uncle.”

“What’s not safe?”

Pushing away from Michael, Topper wiped his face with his hand and took a deep breath. “This”—he held up his stump—“did not happen on the battlefield.”

Sophie gasped and drew the attention of the young man. Michael turned and motioned her forward. “Topper, this is Mrs. Ford. She found you.”

Sophie smiled.

Michael stood and checked his pocket watch. “I’ll discuss your current status with Dr. Henderson and then we’ll take you home.”

“No! Uncle, you can’t.”

“Topper, whatever it is that you think is so dangerous is no longer a threat. You’ll be safe at our home.”

Michael walked away, leaving Sophie standing by the cot. She watched as Topper dragged the blanket over himself.

She pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat facing him. “Michael’s right, Topper. You’re safe now.”

“You don’t know anything,” he snapped.

Sophie clasped her hands together in her lap. “Probably true.” She smiled. “But it seems as though your uncle is determined, and I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

He let out an expletive.

“Son, if you use that language in front of a lady again, I’ll take you to task.”

Sophie turned to see Michael had returned, a look of irritation on his face.

“Sorry, Uncle.” Topper then turned to Sophie. “Ma’am.”

“We’re ready to go.” Michael’s expression softened, but his warning still hung in the air. “The nurses are gathering the items you came in with, and we’ll continue your care at home.”

Topper scowled but didn’t comment as he pushed himself off the cot. Unsteady, he reached for the wall, forgetting about his injury but Sophie grabbed his bicep before he could hurt himself. She saw embarrassment register in his expression, so she quickly said, “Oh, Topper, I’m sorry. I lost my balance there for a second. I appreciate your assistance.”

His eyes widened in surprise, but he nodded and didn’t pull away as she slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. “Can you walk?” she whispered.

“Of course I can walk. I’m not an invalid.”

“Right. Of course not.”

Sophie led Topper down the aisle, all the while assisting without looking as though she were assisting. They met Michael at the entrance and then they made their way out to the buggy. Michael waited for Topper to pull himself inside before taking Sophie’s hand. She climbed in beside him and tried to give him an encouraging smile. It didn’t seem to work.

* * *

February and March passed without much progress. Sophie spent as much time as she could with Topper, but without answers as to who the threat was. He never said the name of the man who had caused him so much fear, he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. He refused to speak about his injuries and how he got them, and Sophie did her best not to push.

* * *

“Eyes open, men,” James yelled. He glanced to his right at Sergeant Mitch West. Mitch had rapidly become a confidant and ally. “You, too.”

Mitch chuckled and gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

Brigadier General William W. Averell, mounted to his left, moved forward and James followed. It was the third attempt to cross the Rappahannock, but trees and a unit of Confederate sharpshooters stood in their way.

“I’ll take twenty.” Major Samuel E. Chamberlain moved out in front him and broke away with the closest group of men.

James and Mitch pulled their horses back and sat with Averell while Chamberlain advanced toward the river. James pushed his hat back for a better view. “He’ll never make it.”

How do I know that?

Averell crossed his arms over the pommel of his saddle and leaned forward slightly. “You never know.”

As James watched the major lead the group, he reflected on the last two months and his unusual journey to his current location in Kelly’s Ford, Virginia. He’d spent another week with the Powell’s and then out of nowhere, a group of cavalry officers had passed through and allowed him to ride with them until he could meet up with his own.

Of course, he never would.

In February, he’d pulled Mitch out of a sticky situation with a married woman, and ever since then they’d been partners. Mitch knew about his memory loss and covered with the higher ups to keep him in their unit.

Heavy fire brought his focus back to the present. James followed Mitch into cover and then he didn’t have much time to think. A shot rang out and Chamberlain was thrown from his horse.

“Let’s go, men!” Averell yelled.

“Is he out of his mind?” James groaned as Averell started to cross the river.

Mitch dug his heels into his horse. “Come on.”

They followed Averell, the water running a little faster than James liked. In the end, it took over two hours to cross. Mitch let out a holler as the last man made it to shore and James mirrored his relief—internally.

“Just think, Jimmy, my man. We’ll be in Harrisburg before you know it. I heard there’s pretty ladies and the best horses in the nation, all within ten miles of one another.”

James laughed and shook his head. “Are you sure they’re not saying that the horses are the pretty ladies?”

Mitch swore with a frown. “What do you take me for, Jimmy?”

James shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ I’m not sure which one you’re more excited about mounting first.”

Mitch managed to catch James over the head with his crop. James laughed louder.