Hearts Under Siege (Civil War Collection) by Kathryn Kelly

around the house.”
    “I’m sorry,” Alexandra said, pausing in her devouring of the food. She swallowed and gazed at Sarah as a sad wave of sympathy washed over her. “Was your husband lost in the war?”
    “The Battle of Shiloh.” Settling into the topic, she sat. “I’m getting along though. My only regret is that I didn’t have one of his children. Someone with his eyes or even the funny little walk he had.”
    Sarah laughed as she dabbed the corners of her eyes. Alexandra sought for a way to distract her. If she didn’t stop, she’d have both of them bawling.
    “Miss Sarah, a wicked soldier shot Thomas in the arm. Maybe I should tend to it.”
    “I noticed his injury, blood oozing through the dressing. He’ll be in directly, and I’ll put some fresh bandages on it.” She winked. “We can’t let on with the men folk. They like to pretend nothing hurts ’em.”
    Alexandra laughed.
    “What’s all this, now?” Thomas asked, coming to stand in the doorway.
    “Just woman talk,” Sarah said. “I’ll get the kettle.”
    “Let me,” Thomas suggested.
    “Don’t even think it. You’re a guest,” Sarah said, swatting him aside as she went to see to the water.
    Once alone, Thomas gazed at Alexandra. “These people are being too kind,” he said. “As soon as we’ve eaten something and cleaned up a bit, we’ll have to move on.”
    “I’m staying the night,” Alexandra said, breaking off a bite of bread.
    “No, you’re not,” Thomas retorted. “You’ve got food,” he added. Reaching around her, he grabbed a handful of bread and cheese.
    “How is your wound?”
    He shrugged and then winced.
    Sarah came struggling into the room with a large cauldron of steaming water. She allowed Thomas to take it from her and dump it into a little tub that sat proudly in the middle of the room.
    “You’re a little taller than my Joseph was, but I believe his clothes will fit you. I’ll fetch one of my dresses for you, too, Alexandra. Those pants are just fine, but they won’t do for our celebration.”
    Thomas picked up the empty cauldron and headed out the door before Sarah could protest. “I’ll bring in some more water,” he said over his shoulder.
    Sarah smiled. “He’ll enjoy himself, after all, I’ll wager.”
    “What are you celebrating, Mrs. Moore?” Alexandra asked, wondering what these women, children, and old men, many of them in mourning black, could possibly have to celebrate.
    “Miss Kate and Mr. Tom went off and got themselves hitched.” She nodded toward the window in the direction of the fiddler. “That’s Mr. Tom there. He insisted on playing even though it’s his wedding day. And that’s Miss Kate over there dusting off little Matthew.”
    Alexandra smothered a gasp. Mr. Tom was ninety if he was a day and as frail as a willow. Miss Kate wore her years easily though, with the gray hair and wrinkles of someone’s grandmother.
    “Miss Kate lost her husband before the fighting even started,” Sarah continued. “And Mr. Tom, well, he never did get married. Some say he’s been waiting for Miss Kate since she was fourteen.”
    “He waited all that time. How sweet. How sad,” Alexandra said.
    “Nonetheless, he’s got her now. There’s soap over there on the dresser and a towel. Don’t let your water get cold, now. I’ll be right on back with your dress directly.”
    Alexandra glanced at the water in the tub, just large enough to sit in with her knees tucked up. Only a few inches deep, would the water be enough to bathe in? And what about her hair? She sat on a chair. Thomas burst into the room with a refill of water.
    “Here you are, Princess,” he said, dumping the water into the tub.
    “How did you know I was dressed?” Heavens. He didn’t even knock. She could have been sitting in the tub.
    “I knew you’d want more water. Give me another ten minutes, and I’ll have the tub full.”
    “How are you heating the water so fast?”
    “An old army trick,” he