She had a brother named Robert,” she said, forgetting how long he had been Max’s right hand and how likely it was that he knew more details about Maria Markham Woodard and her family than Kate did.
But that Robert Markham had been killed at Gettysburg, along with a younger brother, Samuel. Kate had understood for a long time why Max tried to be elsewhere during the first three days of July. His wife’s heart had been broken by her brothers’ deaths, and he was the last person who could comfort her. He had been at Gettysburg, too, fighting for the other side.
Kate picked up the lamp and held it near the man’s face so she could see it better. It didn’t help. She didn’t recognize him at all and she couldn’t see any family resemblance. She’d never actually met anyone with his kind of rugged features. She thought that he might have been handsome once, but then his face must have gotten...beaten and battered somewhere along the way.
She realized suddenly that Perkins was watching her. “He’s not bleeding,” she said, moving the lamp away.
Perkins reached out and briefly took the man’s hand. “Prizefighter, would be my guess,” he said. “Men fresh out of a war can have a lot of rage still. And they have to get rid of it.”
“By beating another human being for sport?” Kate asked.
“There are worse ways to live—especially if you need to eat.”
Kate looked at the man’s face again. How much rage could be left after that kind of brutality? she wondered.
Perkins took the card from her, then stood. “I want you to go upstairs and lock yourself in, Miss Kate,” Perkins said.
“Why?”
“I need to take care of all this and I’m going to have to leave to do it. I’ve only got the one horse and the snow’s too bad to try it on foot. You’ll be all right if you stay quiet and keep your door locked.”
“I don’t think he’s in any shape to do me harm,” Kate said, trying to sound calmer and more competent than she felt. “I’m not afraid. Just go.”
Perkins hesitated, looking closely at the man again. “All right,” he said after a moment. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. Find something to cover him with. He needs to be kept warm until we find out what he’s up to—just in case.”
Kate was about to ask what “just in case” meant, but then she suddenly realized that Perkins was considering the possibility that this man might actually be Max’s—and her—brother-in-law, or at least have some information about him.
“Light some more lamps so I can see the house easier from the outside. It’s snowing so hard it’s a wonder I noticed anything was going on in here at all. Wouldn’t hurt to light a fire, too.”
Kate nodded at his last suggestion. She wholeheartedly agreed, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to admit that she didn’t know how to do it.
He helped her get to her feet, then picked up the lamp and handed it to her. She kept staring at the man on the floor.
“Miss Kate,” he said as he was about to go, and she looked at him.
“If he starts stirring, you get away from him.”
“Yes, I will. Of course I will.”
But Perkins still didn’t go.
“What is it?” she asked. She knew him to be a straightforward and painfully blunt man—it was the main reason Max relied on him so. But he was having some difficulty saying whatever was on his mind now.
“You’re...sure you don’t know this man?”
She was so surprised by the question that she could only stare at him. Then she realized that he was considering every possible explanation for the man’s being here and that he actually wanted to make certain she hadn’t missed her train in order to keep some kind of secret assignation. If she hadn’t been so cold and so upset, she might have been offended. Or she might have laughed.
“I don’t know him, Sergeant Major Perkins,” she said evenly.
“All right then,” he said.
“I’d appreciate it if you hurried,” she said in case he had any more questions he wanted answered.
“My plan exactly, Miss Kate.”
“No, wait. I need a telegram sent to my parents. Say I’ve been delayed. Could you do that, please?”
“Yes, miss,” he said.
She expected him to leave then, but he didn’t. He was still looking at her in that sergeant major way he had. Not quite what her brother called a “sack and burn” face, but still...arresting.
“There is one other thing,” he said. “My responsibility is to Colonel Woodard. I will do whatever is necessary to maintain his position and his authority in this town.”
“Yes, all right,” Kate said.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said—which wasn’t quite the truth. She understood that he made certain that her brother’s life ran as smoothly as possible and that he wanted her to know something about that duty, which he felt was important. She just didn’t know what that “something” was.
She had to turn away from the strong gust of wind that filled the hallway when he finally left by the front door. The man lying at her feet didn’t react at all. She gave him a backward glance, then hurried upstairs to pull two of the quilts off her own bed because she didn’t want to take the time to look through cedar chests for extra ones. He didn’t seem to have stirred when she returned. She folded the quilts double, then knelt down to cover him, hesitating long enough to look at his face again before she went to light more lamps in the downstairs. One of his hands was outstretched, and she carefully lifted it. She could see the scarred knuckles, feel the calluses on his palm as she placed it under the quilt.
It was so cold on the floor. She couldn’t keep from shivering, and she had to bite down on her lip to keep her teeth from chattering. For a brief moment she thought she saw a slight movement from him as well.
No, she decided. He wasn’t waking. He was just cold. He had to be as cold as she was.
“I must learn how to build a fire. In a fireplace and in a cookstove,” she said out loud as she got to her feet. “And that’s all there is to it.”
She went around lighting as many lamps as she could find—she did know how to do that, at least. She had no expectation that Perkins would return quickly, and after what already seemed a long time, she began to pace up and down the hallway in an effort to keep warm. She didn’t know what time it was—only that it was nearly dark outside. She thought there had once been an heirloom grandfather clock in the foyer, but it, like the rest of the hall furniture, had become a casualty of the war, and Maria hadn’t wanted another one. In this one instance, Kate thought she understood her sister-in-law’s behavior. Some things were far too dear to be replaced, especially if all the replacement could ever be was a reminder of what had been lost.
Kate kept her eyes on the man as she walked the hallway, but she let her
