A Basket Brigade Christmas (22 page)

Grasping the basket in one hand and holding her cloak tight against the freezing wind, she hurried toward the train. No doubt he’d been detained helping one of the soldiers. She clambered up the steps and was surprised when the door leading into the car swung open.

A smiling young private greeted her. “You must be Sarah McHenry. I’m Private Nelson.”

Sarah’s mind whirred as she attempted to peek over the shoulder of the young private. “I’m pleased to meet you, Private. Where is Corporal Curtis?”

“He’s back in Centralia. He had to meet with the commander about his assignment, but he sent a letter for you and said he’d be on the train coming through tomorrow.” The soldier reached inside his uniform jacket, withdrew an envelope, and handed it to her.

Sarah’s gaze settled on the slightly crumpled envelope, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it from Private Nelson’s hand. She suspected there was nothing in that letter she wanted to read. Jacob still wanted to be reassigned to the front lines. He’d said he was pleased with his duty on the hospital trains now that he’d met her, but according to Matthew, that was a lie. He was meeting with his commander about another assignment. Clearly he wanted to march into battle more than he wanted to be with her.

“Corporal Curtis said you’d tell me what I should do to help you, Miss McHenry.”

Sarah pushed aside the disturbing thought that Jacob hadn’t been honest with her. She took the letter from Private Nelson and tucked it into her pocket. “Yes, of course.” She forced a smile. “We need to hurry. We’re already behind schedule.” She handed him her hamper and gave him instructions.

She began her own duties down the aisle, though her mind and heart weren’t in it. As if in a cloud, she welcomed each of the men, handing them the items from her basket and thanking them for serving the Union. Some looked at her with dazed eyes, while others offered a crooked smile or word of thanks, each one of them reminding her what might lie ahead for Jacob should he be sent to the front.

For the remainder of their time together, Private Nelson followed her directions with exacting precision. When the whistle signaled their departure, Sarah thanked him for his help and wished him Godspeed on the rest of their journey.

As she turned to leave the train, the private touched her arm. “Wait! Corporal Curtis said you would have a letter for him. He said I should take it just in case something happens and he doesn’t arrive on tomorrow’s train.”

Sarah shook her head. “No. I’ll keep it with me and give it to him the next time he comes through.”

The private lifted his hand to his forehead and gave her an informal salute. “Whatever you say, ma’am. Tell all the ladies thank you for their kindness—it means a lot to all of us.”

“We’re pleased to serve you.” Although she meant the sentiment, her words sounded flat. Sarah stepped down from the train and crossed the platform. She glanced over her shoulder as the train slowly gained momentum and departed the station. Only then did she permit herself to fully feel the weight of what the future might hold. How silly of her to think that a simple exchange of letters and their time at the train depot would be enough to discourage Jacob from his desire to be a “real soldier.”

The women had already cleared the tables when Sarah entered the depot, and some had already departed. She slogged through the remainder of her tasks with thoughts of Jacob flashing through her mind. After she swept the floor, she gathered the dirty napkins into a hamper to launder and then retrieved her woolen cape.

“I hear tell Jacob had a meeting with his commander today.” Sarah twisted around to see Matthew standing in the doorway to the dining room, one hand resting on his hip. She swallowed hard, annoyed that he’d obviously managed to elicit the information from Private Nelson. “Seems I was right about him. He’s more interested in being a soldier than a husband.” His face creased in a satisfied grin.

The words bit Sarah’s ears like an early frost pinching blossoms from fruit trees. He’d said aloud the words that she’d been thinking only a short time ago, and she groaned inwardly. She didn’t want to spar any further with Matthew. “You are entitled to your opinion. Good night, Matthew.”

She walked to the depot doors, her shoulders as rigid as a broomstick while her fingers clung to the envelope in her pocket. Though she had her doubts, she prayed Jacob’s letter would contain the lifeline she needed. She pushed open the door and rushed outside before Matthew had any further opportunity to hurt her with his cutting remarks. The skies unfurled in a gloomy winter darkness that matched her mood. She plodded toward home, the cold wind chilling the bones beneath her flesh. When she entered the bakery a short time later, neither her father’s warm smile nor the familiar yeasty smells were enough to lessen her concerns.

“Good news. Your mother is feeling much better. The doctor says if she continues to improve, she can return downstairs one time each day.”

While Sarah was pleased to hear the news, she could offer no more than a feeble smile. “I’m glad for the good report, Papa.”

His smile wavered. “I expected to see more than half a smile. You should go up and tell your mother you are pleased to have the good news.”

Although she’d wanted to read Jacob’s letter the minute she stepped inside the door, she hurried upstairs and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I hear there is cause for celebration. Papa tells me the doctor says you are making fine improvement.”

Her mother smiled and clung to Sarah’s hand. “I hope that I can soon return and help with the Basket Brigade.” She squeezed her fingers. “Unless I’m no longer needed.”

“You know better, Mama. The ladies will be full of good cheer when they learn of your progress. They pray for you and daily inquire about your health. All of them look forward to your return.”

Her mother’s eyes clouded with concern. “You don’t seem yourself. Did something happen? Is there bad news you’re withholding from me?”

“Of course not. I’m tired, that’s all. I brought home some leftover soup. I’ll warm it and bring it up to you.”

Her mother nodded. “There’s no hurry.”

Apprehension followed Sarah with a gnawing tenacity as she stepped down the hallway and into her bedroom. Finally alone, she dropped into the worn, chintz-covered chair and withdrew the letter. Fear took hold as she unfolded the page and began to read.

When she finished reading the letter, Sarah slumped back and let the pages flutter to the floor. Either the letter had been written before he learned of the meeting with his commander or he intentionally hadn’t included details. The only mention of the meeting was a hastily added postscript saying he hoped to have some important news for her the next time they met. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at her entwined fingers.

Her mind flitted from thought to thought so quickly that she couldn’t even form a prayer, but she took refuge in the knowledge that God knew her heart.

J
acob hadn’t been on the train the next day, so on Friday Sarah steeled herself for the possibility she might never see him again. She hoped if he didn’t appear today, at least there would be a letter telling her what had happened in the meeting with his commander. She strode into the depot prepared for Matthew’s barbs but was relieved when she spied Clara Wingard already at work.

“Am I late or are you early, Clara?”

The older woman swung around and waved a napkin in the air. “I’m early. It was either come here and help you set up or listen to some of the ladies at the general store argue about whether the president should have replaced General McClellan with General Burnside. Personally, I don’t think any of them know enough about fighting a war to offer an opinion, but to hear some of them go on, you’d think they’d been planning battles all their lives.” Clara hesitated a moment. “Maybe if you count some of the battles they’ve had with their husbands …” She unfolded an apron and tied it around her waist. “With many of their men gone, I’m sure they sorely regret those now.”

Sarah strode toward one of the tables and nodded to Clara to grab the other end. “There’s a lesson to be learned from this, Sarah.”

Sarah’s brows knit in confusion. “I don’t have a husband, and my brother and I quit squabbling when we were children. Why do you think this applies to me?”

“You don’t need a husband to learn that it isn’t wise to argue with those you love. Even more, you should never part on bad terms.” Clara’s eyes clouded. “One time I had a close friend, a girl I loved like a sister. We had a fight over a fella when we were nineteen years old, and I told her I never wanted to see her again. Two days later she was struck by a runaway wagon and died. I’ve lived with regret over that argument and what I said to my friend ever since.” She shook her head as if trying to shake off the gloom that colored her story and the sadness that still shone in her eyes. “So you see? You don’t need a husband to understand the importance of what I’m saying.”

“I understand it’s important, but how do things get settled if you don’t let the other person know how you feel?”

Clara grinned. “You speak the truth in kindness, and keep on talking until you’re sure there’s no hard feelings left between you.”

That sounded well and good in theory, but Sarah wasn’t certain it would work. Right now, she didn’t have time to dwell on the matter. The ladies of the Basket Brigade were bustling into the station, and she needed to keep her mind on the task at hand.

By the time the train arrived at the station, all was in good order, and Sarah did her best to keep her hopes in check. If Jacob wasn’t on the train, she promised herself she would remain in good spirits. The wounded men on the train deserved her very best.

Still, when the train came to a halt, her gaze focused on Jacob’s car, hoping, praying …

Then he bounded down the steps and across the platform. With the basket swinging from her arm, she hurried out the door to greet him.

He met her with a broad smile and grasped her hands between his. “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve been praying we’ll have some extra time so we can talk.”

Her heart lurched. Did he want the additional time so he could tell her he had received a new assignment and was going into battle? If so, she wasn’t certain she wanted time for a lengthy talk. Together, they strode toward the train, and as he took her hand to help her up the steps, he leaned a bit closer. “I’ve missed you very much. Did you receive my letter?”

She nodded. “Private Nelson delivered it to me. He was a very helpful young man.”

When he lifted his foot to climb up behind her, she gestured toward the station. “You’ve forgotten that we’ll need the coffeepot, and you can bring the kettle at the end of the table.”

He grinned. “Away for only two days and I’ve already forgotten the routine.”

She watched as he loped toward the station. Her stomach tumbled like a bucket of rocks, and she felt worry crease her brow. How many more days would he be away? She pushed the thought from her mind. She barely had time to pass out the cups and utensils before Jacob reappeared. While he poured coffee, Sarah passed out ham sandwiches on thick slices of bakery bread, along with Clara’s doughnuts that had been dusted with sugar and cinnamon. The boys cheered when they caught sight of the sweets. She wished Clara had been there to hear them.

One of the soldiers pointed to the basket. “If there’s any extras, I’d be happy to help you out.”

With a smile, Sarah handed him another doughnut. “I must remember to tell Clara how much you liked her doughnuts.”

Her basket was almost empty when Jacob stepped behind her. “I’m finished with the coffee. I’ll pick up any empty cups as I pass back through the car. Come as quickly as you can so we can talk.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Sarah took a moment to stare after him as he exited the car. Since his arrival, he’d been in good spirits. If he came bearing bad news, he was hiding it well. Then again, Jacob might consider his news pleasing while she would consider it disagreeable.

On the one hand, she wanted to hear what he would say, yet she also feared he would tell her he’d been reassigned. As she prepared to exit the train, Clara opened the door leading to the next car and waved Sarah forward. “I need some help in here. Two of the fellows with arm injuries have spilled their soup, and it needs to be cleaned up. Can you help?”

Sarah glanced toward the depot. Jacob would be waiting for her. Yet she couldn’t refuse Clara’s request. As she stepped into the adjacent train car, Sarah withdrew several of the dirty napkins and prepared to help sop up the mixture of broth and vegetables that had trickled down the aisle and beneath the swinging hammocks.

The task took far longer than she’d anticipated, and when they’d finally finished, Sarah rushed from the train and back to the depot. Jacob met her the moment she stepped inside. He took the basket from her arm and nodded toward a small alcove on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. There was an accident in another car, and I needed to help Clara.”

They’d just stepped into the alcove when the train hooted the warning whistle. Jacob frowned. “We don’t have much time, but I wanted to tell you that the meeting with my commander went very well.”