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tend to the leg. I haven’t even had a bath or a shave for days. Just clean it up if you must and I’ll be on my way.”
    His abruptness made Clarissa bristle. “I don’t know of one person, man or woman, who wouldn’t do everything they possibly could to keep from losing a limb, so don’t try to tell me you don’t care. Whatever you’re angry about, you needn’t take it out on me.” She began cutting off the bandages with scissors Michael handed her.
    â€œHere’s some hot water,” Carolyn said, bringing over a pan of water. “Michael, did you get those towels?”
    â€œRight now, dear.” Michael hurried into a back room and emerged seconds later with several towels and washrags.
    â€œI’ll get some clean bandages,” Carolyn told Clarissa.
    Clarissa glanced at Sophie and Lena. “You girls had better go and play.”
    Sophie’s eyes were teared. “Did I make it bleed?” she asked.
    Clarissa glanced at Dawson, remembering his deal—she was not to blame Sophie for any of this. He gave her a warning look, and Clarissa turned to Sophie. “No, Sophie. His leg was already wounded from the war. This is not your fault. Now run and play.”
    â€œCan I give him a hug?”
    Clarissa had to smile, then. “After I fix his leg, okay?”
    â€œOkay.” Sophie grabbed Lena’s hand and the two girls ran up the narrow, enclosed stairway to Lena’s room upstairs, closing the stairwell door behind them.
    For the next few moments no one spoke as Clarissa peeled off the bandages. She could see Dawson’s calf muscle tighten and knew the leg was hurting him, but he made no sound. “Set a bucket under his leg, Michael, will you? I have to wash this off and water and blood will drip.”
    â€œSure thing,” Michael answered, hurrying to the kitchen.
    Clarissa looked up at Dawson. “Bullet wound?” she asked.
    â€œShrapnel.”
    Michael returned with a bucket, and Clarissa began washing the blood off Dawson’s leg. “You said you’re retired from the army?”
    â€œMy time was up just a few days after I was wounded, during Grant’s campaign to free up the Mississippi to Union control. After sixteen years of fighting Indians and then seeing the horrific things I’ve seen in this war, I decided not to re-up. I’m doubting that decision, since the army is all I’ve ever known since I was thirteen years old.”
    â€œThirteen!” Michael had drawn up a chair beside Clarissa to see if there was anything he could do to help. Carolyn sat down across the table from them. “You’ve been in the army since you were thirteen years old?”
    Dawson grinned, then suddenly winced and grunted when Clarissa got close to the still-festered wound. “They thought I was sixteen.”
    Michael chuckled. “Well, considering your size, I can understand that.”
    â€œI’m going to have to douse this with whiskey, Mr. Clements,” Clarissa told him.
    â€œSo be it.”
    Clarissa uncorked the small bottle Carolyn handed to her and took a deep breath before splashing some into the wound. Dawson grunted and jerked his leg, then cursed.
    â€œI’ll not have such language in my house, Mr. Clements, although I can understand why you want to use it,” Michael told him. “This is a Christian home.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mr. Harvey.” He grunted again with another douse of whiskey. “But maybe if I’d been allowed to drink some of that liquor before Mrs. Graham here poured it on my wound, I wouldn’t have felt it quite so much.”
    â€œWe don’t allow drinking in our home, either,” Carolyn told him.
    â€œWell, then, by the time this nice lady is through cleaning up this wound, I’ll have to be leaving,” Dawson answered. “Right now a good, stiff drink sounds pretty good.”
    Clarissa inspected the