The Christmas Ball (4 page)

The first man he examined had a wound to the calf. Kirk sniffed the leg, then nodded to the blond steward who’d accompanied him on his rounds. “We need to watch him carefully, Corporal. His leg may have to go.”

The steward nodded and made notations on a pad. “What about this one, Doctor?”

Kirk turned to a dark-haired man whose arm was mangled at the shoulder joint. He turned his dark, mournful gaze on him. “Am I gonna lose my arm, Doc?”

Peeking into the sling holding the arm against the man’s body, he noted the man’s fingers had turned black and a putrid smell rose from them. He patted the man’s good shoulder. “I’m afraid it’s either your arm or your life.”

“I was afraid of that. The other doc said the same thing.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

When he turned toward the door, another steward had arrived carrying a bucket of water. He glanced up. Sara’s short chestnut curls caused his lips to curve into a smile. She set the bucket on the floor and glanced up into his eyes.

“Private Brewster,” he said slowly with a glance at the corporal, “good to see you.”

“Ah...yes sir. I’ve been ordered to dispense water to the men here.” She rocked back on her heels and dropped her gaze.

“Go right ahead.” He waved his arm in invitation.

“Yes, sir.” She bent to lift the bucket and moved to the first man in the row.

He watched her go from man to man. The corporal cleared his throat. “Doctor, will there be any more diagnoses?”

“Ah...” He glanced about the room. “Of course. Let’s go on to the next patient.”

As he moved to the next man, he tried to keep his thoughts from Miss Brewster. After they both completed their rounds, he’d approach her with his idea for lodging.

****

Sara gasped as she looked up the street to the house Doc Ellison had pointed out. “Your family lives there?” She’d never seen such a grand home.

“It belongs to my sister, Mary, and her husband Ted Cunningham. He’s a senator. My mother moved in with them after my father passed. She still has the home in Philadelphia, but for the time being, tenants live there.”

“So the home you grew up in...”

“Has strangers living there for now. Ted has hired a couple to manage it. Once I leave the army, I’ll take over residence in the Philadelphia house.”

Her mind reeled as she stared at the sedate town house. The stoop had planters with small holly bushes on each side and a wreath decorated with a red bow adorned the front door.

Doctor Ellison took her arm. “Come, I’ll introduce you to my family.”

Her heart raced. “Do you think we should tell them the truth?”

“About you being a woman?” Ellison nodded.

Her throat went dry.

“I do believe my sister will be intrigued by the whole matter. We’ll have to see how my mother and brother-in-law take it, but I guarantee they won’t throw you out into the street.”

“All right.” She squared her shoulders and took in a deep breath, although her impulse was to bolt.

His fingers circled her upper arm and he escorted her up the steps to the door. Opening it, he ushered her inside. She gazed around her at the gaily decorated entry way. Sprigs of holly adorned the polished maple banister leading to the upper floor. A poinsettia sat on a small table just inside the door.

“Mary,” he called.

A swish of skirts drew their attention to an open doorway to the left. A dark-haired woman maneuvered her dark green hoop skirt as she angled toward them, then stretched out her arms in welcome.

“Brother, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she gasped, taking both his hands in hers, then kissing his cheek. “Let me look at you.” Her gaze traveled up and down his form. “You’ve lost some weight.”

Ellison patted his stomach. “Not too much, but I guarantee I’ll regain the few pounds I lost over the holidays.” He glanced around. “Where’s Mother and Ted?”

“Mother’s taking her pre-dinner nap and Ted’s been delayed. He should be here momentarily.” Mary’s dark-eyed gaze drifted over Sara. “And is this the soldier you’ve written me about?” Her full lips curved into a smile.

“Yes, Mrs. Mary Cunningham meet Miss Sara Brewster.”

Mary’s mouth gaped. “But she’s so small. Forgive me, Miss Brewster, I’ve just never met a woman soldier before. This is so fascinating.” She patted the back of her hand. “Welcome to my home.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You must call me Mary.” She glanced at her brother and smiled.

“Oh, no, ma’am, I couldn’t.”

“I insist.”

Sara breathed deeply, put at ease by the woman’s demeanor. She hadn’t met many big city folks before, and the few she had looked down their noses at a simple farm girl who wore boys’ britches. “Only if you’ll call me Sara,” she said.

Mary glanced at her brother and sighed. “She’s lovely.” She waved her arm toward the doorway she’d emerged from. “Please, both of you come into the parlor. Greta will take your coats and hats.”

A young blonde woman wearing a plain brown dress and apron, strode down the hall.

“Greta, if you please,” Mary said.

“Yes, ma’am.” The woman held out her arms. Sara shrugged out of her greatcoat and handed it to her. Doc Ellison did the same. The maid turned to Mary. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”

“Yes, could you bring a tea tray into the parlor after you hang the coats?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The maid departed.

Mary ushered them into the parlor. Sara’s gaze was drawn to the brightly decorated Christmas tree set on a maple table. The mantel on the far side of the room was adorned with holly branches. Flames from the fireplace flickered invitingly, warming the small area and sending the scent of wood smoke mixed with pine throughout the room. A plush settee sat before the fire, with chairs on each side. Mary led them in and urged them to take a seat.

She settled on the settee with Kirk beside her. Mary took a seat on her left in one of the upholstered chairs. After Mary adjusted her skirts, her gaze swept over her.

“I’m sure I can find you an old dress of mine you can wear to dinner. I’ve had rooms fixed up for each of you if you care to spend the night.”

Sara turned to Doc Ellison, whose brows rose. “Well, I would be delighted to stay here rather than spend a night at the hospital. If Miss Brewster agrees to stay, then so shall I.”

His eyes twinkled. She bit her lip. Glancing around the cozy room, she decided it would be wonderful to spend the night in a room all her own. She’d never had that luxury. The alternative was spending the night in a small cramped room with two men, who she’d have to mask her identity from.

“I’d be happy to accept your hospitality, ma’am.”

“Mary.”

She grinned. “Yes, Mary.”

Kirk’s sister clasped her hands together. “I’m so happy you’re both staying.”

The maid returned with the tea tray and set it on a table before the settee. Sara marveled at the little cakes on a platter beside the teapot.

After pouring the tea, their hostess waved her hand over the cakes. “Help yourself. I’m sure you’re tired of all that army food.” She wrinkled her delicately shaped nose. “After our tea, I’ll take Sara to her room and outfit her for dinner.”

Sipping her sweetened tea, she helped herself to a few small cakes, delighting in the cinnamon and vanilla flavor, but she worried what the rest of Doc Ellison’s family would think of her.

An hour later, Sara pored over her reflection in a full-length, oak framed mirror. The room Kirk’s sister had given her was spacious and beautiful, with a quilted feather bed, dressing table and a wardrobe filled with a few gowns. She’d also needed proper under things to wear under the gowns and Mary had supplied those as well.

“You are so kind, ma’am—Mary,” Sara said as she smoothed down her errand curls. Her hostess suggested they slick Sara’s hair back and pin it under a decorative hairnet.

Kirk’s sister approached from behind, her reflection caught in the mirror as her approving gaze swept over Sara. “That dress fits you like a glove. It was one from my younger days before my figure plumped out. I was planning to donate it to a charity drive, but you’re more than welcome to have it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.” She smoothed the brown and gold plaid skirt with her palms. “I have to wear my uniform at the hospital.”

“I mean, when you’re off duty. When you’re here, you can wear whatever you want.”

“I believe I’d like that. Thank you.”

“It’s no bother at all. Now, let’s go down to dinner. I’m dying for you to meet my husband, Ted.”

****

When Ted arrived home, Kirk was in the parlor surveying the family daguerreotypes scattered on top of the piano and side tables. He turned at the sound of his brother-in-law’s jovial voice.

“So good to see you. And I’m overly glad you’ll be staying with us for awhile.”

Kirk strode to the parlor doorway and grasped Ted’s hand for a firm shake. Ted’s light brown eyes roved over him.

“Hopefully, the stay will be for a good long while.”

“I hope so too. It can’t have been easy living in the field so close to the hostilities.” Ted ran his hand through his dark-blond locks.

“Yes, except for working in the hospital, it will be like a long furlough.”

“Well...” Ted smiled. “Come into the parlor so we can have a chat before dinner.”

As they moved into the room, Greta appeared in the doorway. “Sir, would you like a brandy before dinner?”

“Yes.” Ted glanced at Kirk. “Join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Once the maid had poured both men their drinks and left the room, Ted took a sip and sighed his satisfaction.

Kirk sipped his brandy as well, relishing the warmth spreading down his throat.

“Has Mary told you about the party day after tomorrow?” Ted asked.

“Party?” He frowned. “No, she hasn’t said anything.”

Ted chuckled. “Likely she thought you’d just make up some excuse not to attend.”

Kirk raised his glass, letting the brandy swirl. “Who’s having the party?”

“It’s a Christmas ball being given by Colonel Jeffers. He owns a mansion on the outskirts of the city. It’s to benefit the war. Everyone who can make a donation is invited.”

“A ball?” He scowled. “That’s the last thing I feel like attending.”

Ted sighed. “I gather that’s why your sister hasn’t told you yet. I, of course, have no choice but to attend. And I’m sure Mary’s already offered a rather sizeable donation. But I suspect you’ll have difficulty denying your sister as well.”

Kirk took another sip of brandy. “Well, I don’t relish the idea of a ball. All the hypocrisy that goes on...”

Footsteps outside the parlor door drew his attention away from the conversation. Ted’s eyes widened and he turned to see what his brother-in-law was staring at.

Mary ushered Sara into the room. He could only gape. He’d never seen her clothed as a woman. The gown she wore was a simple plaid day dress, but it accentuated her slightly rounded bosom and small waist. Her hair had been pulled back into a hairnet, obviously to disguise her cropped curls.

He rose and faced the doorway. Ted moved to his side.

“Ted,” Mary said. “May I present Miss Brewster. This is my husband, Mr. Ted Cunningham.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Ted moved forward taking Sara’s hand. “A pleasure, Miss Brewster.” He formally bowed.

Her face turned bright pink as she gazed at Kirk.

Smiling, he strode forward to join the small group. “Why, I barely recognize you.”

She smirked. “Mary’s been a real help.”

“Come, let’s all sit down and get acquainted.” Mary spread out her arm to indicate they resume their seats. “Greta will announce when dinner’s ready.”

“Where’s Mother?” Kirk asked.

“She’s taking her toilette before dinner. She should be down soon.”

He caught Sara’s grimace. “Don’t worry, dear. Mother will love you.”

Although she nodded, he noticed her throat working. She obviously feared meeting the matriarch of the family.

Mary and Ted took seats on either side of the fireplace, forcing Kirk and Sara to settle on the settee.

“Would you care for a brandy, ladies?” Ted asked. Without waiting for an answer, he poured from the decanter into the extra glasses Greta had left.

He was very aware of Miss Brewster sitting stiffly beside him. After staring at her glass for a few moments, she finally lifted it to her lips. He noted her blush as the amber liquid slid down her throat. Setting her glass on the table, she glanced around the group.

“Good, very good.” When her gaze caught his he had to suppress a laugh. His little soldier did indeed appear to have bloomed.

“I told Kirk about the Christmas ball,” Ted put in.

“You did?” Mary caught his gaze. “You will go won’t you? After all, it benefits the war.”

He glanced at Sara. Her delicate brows raised in a question. “Only if I can bring Miss Brewster.”

Mary clasped her hands together. “Of course, that’s what I had in mind all along.”

“A ball? But I’ve got nothing I can wear to a ball.”

“Don’t worry,” Mary said. “I’ve several ball gowns you can choose from.”

Kirk scowled at his sister.

She grinned and shrugged. “You’ve no excuse. Your family and friends will be there and I’m sure Sara will enjoy attending a Christmas ball.”

He glanced at Miss Brewster. Her eyes grew wide and her throat worked. “I—I’m not rightly sure I’ll know how to act.”

Mary reached over and patted her hand. “My brother will take care of you and Ted and I will be there as well. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yes, I’m sure she will.” He caught Sara’s wavering smile.

Glancing back at Mary, he found her smirking. Once he’d brought Miss Brewster here, his calculating sister must have immediately set this trap to snag him into attending the ball, knowing he’d make up any excuse to weasel his way out.

****

At dinner, Kirk sat beside Sara. Ted and Mary sat on opposite ends of the dining table, while his mother, Grace, sat across from him.

Miss Brewster held up well, exhibiting impeccable manners, although he had to subtly guide her as to what fork to use for each dish. His mother, to her credit, was more than gracious to their guest. Likely, Mary had already briefed her on the woman soldier’s background.