A Basket Brigade Christmas (19 page)

Sarah lowered her arm and silently chided herself for her impulsive behavior. Had the other ladies been watching from inside the station as she’d stood on tiptoe and waved to the departing train—to Corporal Curtis? Bowing her head against the snow, she pulled her gray quilted cape close and strode across the platform.

Once inside, loud applause and cheers greeted her. The silk-lined hood dropped from her auburn curls and rested lightly on her shoulders. Embarrassment seized her. “What’s all this fuss about?”

Nadine Greer stepped forward and patted Sarah’s shoulder. “We’re proud of you, my dear. You did a stellar job today, and we are hopeful you’ll agree to remain a member of the Brigade.” She leaned a bit closer. “In fact, while your mother is convalescing, we’d like you to continue to take charge. We all agree you’re the best choice.” The older woman glanced about the group. “Don’t we, ladies?”

The assembled women nodded and murmured their agreement. From the doorway of the depot restaurant, Matthew’s deep bass blended with the women’s voices. He leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes fixed on her. “I’d say Sarah’s the best choice for just about anything.”

She frowned when he winked at her. She feared that Matthew would use her daily visits as an opportunity to try to woo her. She’d need to keep him at arm’s length, but she wouldn’t let his conduct determine her decision. After all, the wounded soldiers had been willing to sacrifice their lives. Surely she could avoid Matthew’s advances and convince him there was no possibility they’d share a future together.

Keeping her eyes upon Mrs. Greer, Sarah gave a resolute nod. “I would be honored to lead the Brigade for as long as you need me.”

Nadine led another round of applause then squared her shoulders and motioned the ladies to silence. “Please remain available to assist Sarah as needed. We have no way of knowing how many men to expect until word is received from Centralia. Do your best to be prepared, and Sarah will do the same.”

After the ladies donned their wraps, they gathered their kettles, baskets, and serving utensils. Before they departed, Nadine once again waved them to silence. “And don’t forget that Lucy can use additional help making lap quilts. If you can’t donate your time, perhaps you have some fabric or thread the other ladies can use.”

After seeing the condition of the tattered clothing and blankets worn by the injured men, Sarah was certain Lucy would need more than a few scraps of fabric and a spool of thread to furnish their needs. However, Sarah was confident the ladies would scour their sewing baskets and do even more than they’d been asked.

Nadine walked alongside Sarah. “Do tell your mother we’re all very proud of the work you accomplished today. I know she must have been praying from her sickbed, and she needs to know her prayers were answered. She will be most proud of you, Sarah.”

When the two women parted, Sarah lifted her face toward the sky and stuck out her tongue to catch a few snowflakes. A flurry of white coated her eyelashes, and she swiped away the dampness with her gloved fingers. What a wonderful evening this had been. Not only had the Lord helped her overcome her fears, He’d also revealed that this truly was where she was needed—where she could serve. Her fears had been dispelled, and she looked forward to meeting the future trains that would arrive in Decatur—and to seeing Corporal Jacob Curtis again.

S
arah hurried toward the train station, eager to begin preparations for the train’s arrival. Though her mother was gaining strength, the doctor had declared it unwise for her to resume any duties with the Basket Brigade. While she was able to be up and about for short periods of time, her progress remained tenuous. One day she would appear much stronger, but the next she’d be abed the entire day.

Uncertain if her mother was napping, Sarah peeked around the bedroom door. Her mother smiled and waved her forward. “Leaving so soon? It seems you leave a little earlier each day.”

“I’m going early so I can have the tables arranged before the ladies arrive with their food.”

Her mother nodded. “How wise of you. I can see how that would hasten preparations once the ladies arrive. I’m thankful you’ve adjusted so well. I don’t want to be one who says I told you so, but …”

Sarah chuckled. “You’re allowed, Mama. I only wish I hadn’t waited until you became ill before doing your bidding. Now I look forward to hearing the train whistle each day.”

The late-afternoon sunlight flickered through the bedroom curtains and cast a lopsided design on the wooden floor. “Do you have someone to help you move those tables? They’re much too heavy for you to move about on your own.”

“Johnny Folson comes over when he can. After school, he mucks stalls at the livery and then, if his grandfather gives him permission, he comes to the depot to help move the tables.” If necessary, Sarah could move them by herself, but she’d enlisted Johnny’s help as a ploy to discourage Matthew’s unwanted attention. A fact she didn’t share with her mother.

Before leaning down to brush a kiss on her mother’s cheek, Sarah tucked a letter into her skirt pocket. “Pray that all goes well on the train today.”

“I always do.” Her mother nodded toward her pocket. “Another letter for Jacob?”

A smile tugged at Sarah’s lips. “He was right about the letters. It’s proved to be a good way to learn more about each other.”

Her mother’s gaze wavered. “Be careful to protect your heart, Sarah. You never know when he may receive a change of orders. I don’t want to dishearten you, but I think you need to be prepared for such an event.”

“You need not worry, Mother. I understand the possibility.” She glanced toward the door. “I really must be going.” She squeezed her mother’s hand and hurried from the room. She didn’t want to think about Jacob receiving another assignment. She’d had to say good-bye to Samuel. Surely that was enough.

She patted the pocket of her skirt, and the stiff envelope crinkled beneath her hand. She hoped Jacob would enjoy her letter. He had such a way with words that reading his letters filled her with joy. After she’d observed his writing skills, Sarah promised herself she wouldn’t compare their missives—but it was difficult. His letters read like poetry while hers resembled rambling prose.

They did their best to visit as much as possible each time the train passed through Decatur. However, Sarah’s primary duty was to help the ailing soldiers, not develop a kinship with Jacob, so they’d agreed upon the idea of writing letters as a method to become better acquainted.

Jacob had given Sarah a letter on their third meeting and suggested exchanging letters. They’d continued the practice ever since. Sometimes Sarah told him about her daily activities, but at other times she included details of her childhood and family.

Though exchanging letters several times a week wasn’t a perfect solution, they permitted a deeper familiarity—much more than their brief visits at the depot would have provided. Yet rather than beautiful words, Sarah sometimes longed for Jacob to give her more details of his life before joining the military. While he was willing to answer questions about his family and friends, when she’d once made a lighthearted remark about the sweetheart he’d left behind, he’d become brooding and withdrawn. She’d attempted to push aside his startling reaction to her playful question, but his behavior still baffled her. His abrupt negative response to her question had made it clear that he didn’t wish to discuss the matter further. There had been little time to dwell on his response—the soldiers on board the train had far more pressing needs.

The icy wind whipped at Sarah’s cape as she entered the train depot. Matthew stood in the doorway leading to the café. The moment he spied her, he leaned forward and swooped his arm in a giant wave as if greeting a member of royalty. She arched her brows and glanced around the depot, surprised to see the tables had already been arranged.

He grinned as he approached. “I hope you appreciate my efforts. When Johnny didn’t arrive, I set up the tables—all for you.”

Sarah sighed. Nothing she said or did discouraged Matthew’s attempts to impress her. “I would rather believe your help was for the ailing soldiers who will be arriving.”

His longing gaze remained riveted on her. “Believe what you like, but it’s you that I care about, not a train filled with soldiers.”

His words erased the kindness of his deed, and she gave a slight shake of her head. “Thank you for setting up the tables, but there’s no need for you to do so in the future. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your duties in the hotel.” She removed her cape and hung it on a peg near the stove. When she turned around, the letter escaped her pocket and fluttered to the floor. Before she could retrieve it, Matthew snatched it up by one corner.

“Nothing’s too much trouble for you, Sarah.” He stepped closer and turned the envelope over. His jaw twitched as his gaze settled on Jacob’s name. “You know Jacob Curtis ain’t gonna be around forever, but I’m gonna be here. We can build a future together.” When she attempted to step away, he blocked her path. “You need to think about the future instead of that soldier boy who’s gonna leave ya and go home to his sweetheart.”

With mention of a past love, Sarah’s anger mounted. Matthew had no right to interfere in her life. She didn’t want or need his opinions. She waved for him to step aside. “You need not worry about Jacob or his plans for the future. They don’t concern you. Leave me alone, Matthew!”

Had there not been so much work to complete, she wouldn’t have gathered the courage to speak in such a bold manner.

“We’ll see if ya feel the same way once he’s gone.” He thrust the letter at her before stomping off toward the hotel lobby.

Sarah inhaled a deep breath, thankful for his retreat. If only Samuel had been around, she would have requested he speak to Matthew. She gave fleeting thought to asking Jacob, but that would likely make matters worse. Yet she was also proud of herself for standing up to him.

Sarah pushed thoughts of Matthew aside as the other ladies arrived and they busied themselves with the final preparations. With each passing day, her confidence increased, and she now looked forward to time with the wounded soldiers. While the train hissed to a stop outside the depot, she filled the last of the large kettles with warm beef and vegetable soup.

Moments later, Jacob was at her side, his smile as warm as the fire that crackled in the depot stove. “You look particularly lovely today.” He glanced around the room. “What can I do to help?”

“If you’d like to carry one of the soup kettles, I’ll carry the basket of cups and utensils.” Sarah took a quick survey of the room and, once assured all the ladies were prepared to begin, she followed Jacob to his train car. Sarah made her way down the aisle handing out the cups and spoons while Jacob followed behind and filled them with the thick soup. She stopped occasionally to explain that they would be delivering sandwiches and either fruit or dessert once the soup was served. On the few occasions when she lingered to visit with the soldiers, Jacob encouraged her to move along.

They were nearing the rear of the car when Jacob drew close. “I’ve told you before that you should be careful around the men. They’ll think you’re flirting with them, and that could lead to trouble. I don’t want you to say or do anything that causes one of them to disrespect you.”

She was getting weary of his admonitions. “How could asking about their families or inquiring if they have a special need be considered flirtatious? I have received nothing but respect. You’re being overly protective where there’s no need.”

Jacob frowned but said nothing more until he’d finished serving the soup. “I’ll get the sandwiches if you want to begin collecting the empty cups at the other end of the car.”

Sarah nodded, but as she made her way through the aisle, the cup of soup given to a badly burned soldier remained untouched. She smiled and nodded toward the soup. “Not hungry?”

His gaze settled on his bandaged hands. “I’m hungry, but the spoon didn’t cooperate.” He dropped against his pillow and groaned.

Sarah glanced across the aisle, where another soldier was beckoning to her. When she approached, he leaned closer. “When we got on the train, the doc said he didn’t think that young fella would make it to Chicago. He was burned real bad—and not jest his hands. I think his name is Thomas Reed or Reedy—not for sure about his last name.”

After whispering her thanks, Sarah moved back across the aisle. The young soldier’s eyes had closed. She hesitated, uncertain if she should awaken him, but he’d said he was hungry. Keeping her voice to a whisper, she said his name.

His eyes fluttered open. “You look like an angel. Is that how you knew my name? Have I died and gone to heaven?”

“No, Thomas. You’re still on the train, and I’m not an angel. My name is Sarah, and I’m going to help you with your soup so you don’t become any weaker on the rest of your journey. Will it hurt if we prop you up just a little?”

“I’m willing to try.” He attempted to scooch into a sitting position but groaned in pain.

Sarah stayed him with a touch of her hand. “Here. Let me put these folded blankets behind you.”