A Basket Brigade Christmas (18 page)

Sarah steeled herself as Corporal Curtis pushed open the door and led her into the car. She forced her lips into a smile she hoped would appear warm and compassionate rather than cold and detached. Her breath caught as she spied a soldier with a missing arm in the first swinging cot on her right.
Please help me, Lord. Let my service to these men represent a glimpse of Your love for them.

The young man’s sober countenance immediately brightened when Sarah reached into her basket and withdrew a buttered roll wrapped in brown paper. “There will be stew, so you may want to wait and eat that when the ladies come through with the kettles.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He pulled back the paper, lifted the soft roll to his nose, and inhaled a deep breath. “This smells like home.”

Sarah fought off the tears that threatened. “I’m so glad.” The young soldier’s comment was a stark reminder of Samuel. She could imagine him saying those very same words if someone handed him a fresh roll or slice of bread.

From the time the two of them had been old enough to help in the bakery, they had enjoyed working side by side. By the time they finished school, their father’s arthritic hands had worsened and he had relied upon their help—especially Samuel, who had the same talent as her father for kneading the dough and keeping the fires in their brick ovens at just the right temperature. Once Samuel enlisted, her father insisted his hands were fine, and he’d returned to kneading and wouldn’t accept help. She wasn’t certain if he considered the pain to be his contribution to the war effort or if the pain blotted out thoughts of Samuel off fighting, but she no longer argued with her father.

They’d had only two letters from Samuel since he’d left Decatur, but they’d known his letters would be few and far between. Samuel wasn’t fond of letter writing. Besides, the mail to and from the front lines moved like molasses on a winter day.

Her father continued to insist she help her mother with the pastries and serve the customers who came to their shop each day. Sarah’s sweet disposition appealed to everyone who daily visited their bakery. She wanted that same personality to shine through today.

Sarah’s confidence increased as she made her way down the aisle. After glimpsing the men’s good humor and pleasure, her initial wariness vanished. Her smile deepened when she noticed several of them slicking down their hair. They could do nothing to make their tattered clothing more presentable, but she was touched by their efforts to appear tidy and neat.

As she turned to a soldier on the other side of the car, he greeted her with a huge smile—a smile so reminiscent of Samuel that her heart skipped a beat. She reached into the basket then handed him a buttered roll. “You have a wonderful smile, soldier.”

He beamed and a dimple formed along his right cheek. “Your beauty could put a smile on any fellow’s face, ma’am.”

“I don’t know about that, but I thank you for your kind compliment. What’s your name?”

“Joseph Oleen. Private Joseph Oleen.”

“An honor to meet you, Private Oleen.” She patted his shoulder before continuing onward, touched by the soldier’s sweet words.

Her confidence emboldened, Sarah continued to exchange warm greetings and a cheery smile with each of the remaining soldiers. As she neared the end of the aisle, Jacob nodded toward the ailing men. “These soldiers haven’t seen a young lady in a while, so it might be best if you weren’t quite so friendly with them.”

Sarah’s bright smile wavered. “I was merely attempting to extend a bit of hospitality along with their meal. While I appreciate your warning, I don’t think any of the men mistook my behavior as anything other than kindness. Not one of them said anything untoward.”

“That’s good to hear. I know the efforts of all the ladies are greatly appreciated.” He excused himself to tend to a soldier as Sarah emptied her basket.

When she passed by Jacob a short time later, she hesitated. “I’m going into the depot to gather cups so we can begin serving coffee and dessert.”

Several of the women joined Sarah in the station, all of them carrying empty baskets and tales of the fine young men they’d met while on board the train, when Emma bustled into the depot. One glance at the chatting ladies and her eyes flashed a warning that caused the room to still. “You’re in charge, Sarah. These ladies need to be filling baskets and getting back on the train. Why are you all standing here visiting like there’s no need to hurry?” Without waiting for an answer, she scooped up an armful of tin cups and dropped them into her basket. “Flora, bring a pot of coffee and follow me.”

Flora rushed off to the kitchen to fetch a pot of coffee, with several other ladies following on her heels. Sarah filled her basket with tin cups while she waited for the ladies to return with additional pots of coffee. She was completing the task when Jacob stepped inside and strode toward her.

He held a coin in his hand. “The young fellow with the big smile wanted to pay you for his dinner.”

Sarah shook her head. “Absolutely not. His smile was thanks enough.” She took the coin from Jacob’s hand. “I’ll return it to him when we go through with coffee and dessert.”

“Since you seem to be doing fine, I’ll stay here in the depot and get me something to eat before we leave.”

Embarrassment washed over Sarah. She hadn’t even offered the aide so much as a cup of coffee or piece of bread. “I’m sorry, Corporal Curtis. I should have offered you something to eat before now. We have more than enough.” She reached inside her basket to remove a tin cup, but he shook his head.

“No need for an apology. I enjoy a little time off the train when we make our stops. I’m sure your food is better than what they serve in the depot restaurant, but I’d rather you save it for the wounded men. I think they’ll be happy to receive seconds if there’s any extra.”

Sarah briefly considered disagreeing with him, but he turned and walked into the restaurant before she could form an argument. It was understandable he needed a time of respite after hours of aiding the wounded soldiers. The men required a great deal of assistance, and there would be many long hours before the train reached Chicago.

The ladies made several passes down the aisle of each train car, distributing food and coffee. Once the men had eaten their fill, the ladies collected the used cups and utensils. As Sarah gathered the items, she silently thanked God for the change He’d wrought in her heart. The thankfulness and appreciation of the men had wiped away her fear and apprehension. While she harbored a modicum of regret that she’d refused to serve in the past, she would eagerly do her part in the future. As Sarah entered the depot, Lucy Maddox and the ladies of her sewing guild crossed the platform and stepped onto the train to offer each of the soldiers a word of cheer, along with a handmade comforter and socks to help them ward off the cold.

Inside the depot, Jacob greeted Sarah before nodding toward Lucy and her group. “The fellas are sure going to appreciate those items. Any blankets they have are in tatters, and many of them shiver even when it isn’t cold.” His eyes shone with compassion. “You probably noticed that when you were on the train. I’m not sure if it’s due to their injuries or because of all they’ve seen and experienced on the battlefield.”

His sympathetic tone touched her, and she instinctively looked over her shoulder toward the train. If Samuel should be injured, she hoped there would be a man with the compassion of Jacob Curtis to help him. “You’re very kind, Corporal Curtis. The men on that train may have been unlucky on the battlefield, but they’re fortunate to have you with them on this journey.” His cheeks reddened, and he glanced toward the wooden floor. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to embarrass you, but your work is so important. You must have been very pleased to receive this assignment.”

“I’d like to say you’re right, but escorting the wounded isn’t what I hoped for. What I really wanted was to fight on the front lines.”

They walked to one of the tables, where Sarah poured coffee into a tin cup and handed it to him. “My brother was filled with the same passion when he enlisted, but you must know that you’re a great help to these men. And your encouragement and kindness were exactly what
I
needed to get me through my initial fears. I can’t thank you enough for being so understanding and helpful.” She chuckled. “Now, I have trouble remembering why I was so afraid or why I had to be forced into joining the Basket Brigade.”

He grinned. “Maybe it was because we were destined to meet on this particular day.” The train whistled a long, piercing blast. “I need to get on board, Miss Sarah.” He handed her the empty coffee cup. When his fingers lingered on her hand for a moment longer than necessary, unexpected warmth flooded her cheeks. “I won’t be coming back to Decatur for a few days, but I hope I’ll see you again.”

Her heart fluttered. “I hope so, too, Corporal Curtis.”

U
sing the frayed sleeve of his uniform jacket, Jacob wiped the haze of condensation from the train window and leaned forward to capture a final glimpse of Sarah. His heart hammered an extra beat when she stepped onto the depot platform and waved one final time. He wanted to believe that last friendly gesture had been meant for him and not the entire trainload of wounded soldiers.

For the first time since enlisting in the army, he could truly be thankful for this assignment. How he’d railed against God when he learned that he would be acting as an escort for injured soldiers. He’d launched into a fierce argument with his sergeant—which hadn’t helped his situation. In truth, his behavior had created even greater consequences: the duty had been extended for an indefinite term. He didn’t know whether the order would eventually be rescinded or whether he’d spend his entire enlistment shuttling soldiers back and forth to the hospital in Chicago.

More than a year ago, Jacob’s commanding officer had declared him a fortunate young man. The officer’s words remained etched in Jacob’s memory:
“Once you step onto that hospital train and see all the wounded soldiers, you’ll be grateful for this assignment.”
But his commanding officer had been wrong. He’d never given thanks for this assignment.

Not until today. Not until he’d met Miss Sarah McHenry.

Before today, it was guilt rather than gratefulness that gnawed at him. When injured soldiers stared at him with vacant eyes, he worried what they thought of him. They all wore the same uniform, but did they think him a coward whose family had pulled strings to keep him out of harm’s way? He hoped they understood he’d had no say in his orders. A time or two, he’d been tempted to ask their opinion but decided his worries were small compared to the problems they faced.

Wedged between one of the cots and the edge of a wooden seat, Jacob let his thoughts run free and return to Sarah and their time together. His lips curved as he recalled the twinkle in her eyes as she’d become more confident. He rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. The clack of the train soon lulled him into a peaceful cocoon.

Suddenly he jerked to attention when a soldier mentioned Sarah’s name. Hoping to hear over the din of the train and chattering men, he leaned forward.

A young amputee a few cots down rested his head in his palm. “She’s one beautiful gal. I think maybe she liked me. I asked her if she had a beau.”

A loud hoot came from across the aisle. “What did she say to that?”

“She shook her head no and gave me a real sweet smile. When I told her my name, she said her name was Sarah and she’d be praying for me.”

Another soldier chortled. “Well, that don’t mean she’s hankerin’ after you, Chester—just means she’s gonna say a prayer you get better. Besides, I’m thinking she’s a might more interested in me. She stopped and asked me about my family and if I was going to be coming back to Decatur. That probably means she wants to marry me, don’t ya think?”

As the men continued to discuss Sarah’s beauty and charm, their laughter and jibes assaulted Jacob’s ears. Had they been discussing anyone other than Sarah, he might have ignored the comments. Instead, he felt his muscles knot and his lips tighten. Hadn’t he advised Sarah the men might mistake her sociable demeanor for more than just a friendly exchange? Could he have misunderstood her intentions? Had her interest in him been no more than the same kindness she’d extended to the other men? Instead of worrying about the wounded soldiers, perhaps he should have guarded his own heart.