*
The sun was beginning its descent when James rode ahead for a while. He came back and told her they would pull off for the night just up ahead. Her shoulders ached and she was more than ready to stop driving the wagon. The moment they reached the place he had pointed out, she began to coax George into going there. She liked the fact that James had chosen a very nice grassy spot with some trees to shade it.
“I’ll have a check for snakes,” Boyd said as he got down.
“You didn’t have to tell me,” Abigail grumbled as she also got down and moved to unhitch George.
“What?”
“Well, I had not given a thought to snakes until you spoke up and stuck it in my head.”
“Ah, I see.” Boyd suddenly grinned. “I’ll just have a check for bunnies.”
Even as she thought it would be wrong to strike a wounded man, Abigail found herself appreciating his smile. He really was a handsome young man. She idly wondered if he was one Anne had walked out with.
“Did you ever walk out with Anne?” she asked suddenly and his bright red flush told her the answer was yes, but she decided she would not tease him about it because James was already doing a good job of that.
“That was mean, Abbie,” said Matthew as he raised himself up on his arms and waited for someone to help him sit up properly.
“So was mentioning snakes.”
“Only a fool doesn’t check for them in these hills.”
“Well, he could be a quiet, conscientious fellow.”
Looking at George as she looped his reins around a tree branch, Matthew shook his head. “That is a damn big horse.”
“I know. He is magnificent and he knows it.” She rubbed the animal’s nose before going to the wagon to check Matthew for any sign of fever.
“It appears to have passed,” he said when she finally helped him sit up and piled a bunch of blankets at his back. “Can you send James to me?”
“Yes, but where did he go?” she asked as she looked around.
“He always walks a circle around any place we camp in. He should be coming in behind you before long.”
Abigail turned to watch for some sign of the man. When he ambled back through the trees, she hurried over to him. “See any trouble?”
“Nope. No one’s been in this area for some time, I’d guess.”
“Good. Matthew would like to speak with you.”
James went to Matthew and a moment later she saw him helping Matthew out of the wagon. She started over to ask what they thought they were doing when it occurred to her that Matthew might be in desperate need of a moment of privacy. The moment they came back she slipped away for one of her own. By the time she returned, all the men were seated on the ground and James was attempting to get a small fire burning. Matthew leaned against a tree looking as if the short walk had sucked all the energy out of him, but he did not look feverish so she said nothing, just sat down near him on a rough blanket spread on the ground.
“Just how much farther do we have to go?” she asked Matthew.
“If we have no trouble we should be there by the end of the day tomorrow,” he answered, and she could hear a hint of eagerness in his tired voice.
“So close to where you were fighting. No wonder the major sent you home.”
“That, and the fact that very soon I would have to sign papers to join up again. He didn’t see the sense in that. The man is sick to death of this business and gives no one any argument if they are badly wounded or near time to leave anyway. The conscripts are not so lucky. Major doesn’t like conscripts. Doesn’t like how men who didn’t want to fight are shoved into the war.”
“How ever did he become an officer with such ideas?”
“Went to the right school. I hope he makes it out of this mess in one piece.”
“So do I, for Maude’s sake if nothing else.”
He laughed. “Did notice her hanging around his office a lot.”
“Yes, she was taken with him. Said he had seasoning.” She smiled faintly.
For a while they talked about the soldiers and the women they had mixed with. Abigail realized she had not been wrong about Anne. The woman had walked out with a lot of soldiers. The way Matthew occasionally smiled faintly when he mentioned her told Abigail she had been right to think Anne fit with Maude’s teasing reference to the word walking when meaning something completely different. She had to wonder if Mrs. Beaton was aware of it.
Abigail finally got up to see what she might make for a meal for them all. She went to the basket Mrs. Beaton had pressed her to take and smiled when she opened it. It was hard to know if it was good manners or friendship that had caused the woman to pack such a vast amount of food, but Abigail did not care. A moment later she had James at her side looking it all over.
“Unless you had a wish to make us a meal, I can do just fine with this. She has packed a lot of things that work well for camp food. Maybe her husband was a soldier once.”
“Feel free,” she said, more than willing to hand over the chore as her arms and shoulders still ached.
She returned to Matthew’s side and quietly asked, “James can cook?”
“Aye. He is skilled at meals in a pot over a campfire.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against the tree, and closed her eyes. “Good. Driving the wagon was more than enough work for me today.”
“Even with a great cart horse like George?”
“Even then.”
He just smiled and watched James. “Is the baby still sleeping?”
“He is, and who knows how long he will continue?” She listened, heard gurgling, and sighed. “Not long, I guess.”
A moment later a soft whine sounded and she got up to go to the wagon. Picking up the baby, she grabbed a new changing cloth and, laying him down on the wagon bed, quickly changed him into a dry one. Tossing the wet cloth into an empty bucket, she wished she knew where some water was. She got a bottle, saw that she would have to milk the goat, and went to sit down near Matthew again to feed the baby.
“He has lost that newly born look,” he said and idly rubbed the baby’s foot.
“Babies this young change every week. It is actually quite fascinating to watch. Well, if you are not the only caretaker. I suspect that can leave one too tired to get excited over little changes. Which is a bit of a shame.”
“Aye, it is. He is a good-looking little fellow, but then his mother and father were fair to look at.”
“I don’t see either of them in him yet. Perhaps as he grows something will show.” She sniffed the air. “Whatever James is doing it certainly smells good.”
“Told you. We had to shoo off the other fellows in camp when he cooked. They would all come wandering in looking to help themselves to some.”
She grinned. “And you proved to be very unwelcoming, I suspect.”
“Verra. Then they tried to get James assigned to their group. Major didn’t oblige.” He glanced at Boyd. “Do ye think Boyd will ever get the use of that arm back?”