door with the clothes Rebecca had loaned him earlier. They were folded in a neat pile as he offered them to the blonde. "I had them washed." He offered with a quirk of his brow.
"You must have had them on for what two hours?"
"More like three, but I had to inspect camp and they got a little dirty."
"So did you." She crinkled her nose just a bit to indicate the odor coming from the officer. "Good thing I happen to like the smell of horse. However, after supper you are getting another bath. In the meantime at least wash your hands and arms."
"Yes Ma’am. Should I eat on the porch?"
"No, just stay down wind. What did you do, Colonel, set up the stables?"
He laughed as he washed his hands at the pump at the sink. "No, I just lent a hand where it was needed. Lots of work to prepare a camp."
"I would imagine. You seem to do it very well."
"I have been doing it since I was fifteen. I am thirty-four now. I have lots of experience." He took a cloth from the sink and dried his hands. "I know all the little tricks."
Rebecca gestured to his uniform as she finished setting the table. "You know all kinds of tricks."
"Un-huh."
"So you have been living life as a man for nineteen years?"
"Just about that, yes."
"And you have never been discovered?"
"Not yet." He sighed hard as he moved to the table to hold Rebecca’s chair for her. "I am very convincing."
"Is that so?" Rebecca smiled as her chair moved toward the table. "You mean to tell me that you can sit here through dinner and make me believe I am having supper with a gentleman."
"Well now, you are a little different because you do know, but yes I am confident. I think I could make you believe it."
"Try."
"What?"
"Try, Colonel Redmond. Try to make me believe it."
"Miss Rebecca, this is silly."
"Play the game, Colonel Redmond."
"All right, Miss Rebecca, all right."
As she settled down across the table from Rebecca, the blonde smiled. She was not sure Charlie could do it. He could see it in her face and he quirked a brow in challenge.
And so the evening began.
Their conversation ranged over many topics, from gracious comments on the land, to authors they had both read and enjoyed. Rebecca stayed away from the obvious questions of how did a Charlestonian end up in the Northern army and even more obvious, how did a girl become a colonel, a career officer in the Army. Charlie skillfully created a mood of cultured peace, of two people enjoying a time of quiet, thoughtful companionship. It was a taste of the elegance and culture that Rebecca had once enjoyed and lost with the war.
Supper was a delightful experience. For one night, Rebecca forgot the empty larder, the lost friends and family, the empty stables of her family’s once spectacular horse-breeding program. By the time the simple dessert of fresh fruit and real coffee, brought as a house gift by this enigmatic guest, was over she realized that Charlie was holding her hand, lightly brushing his……her thumb over the back of it.
"You win." Rebecca smiled from behind her coffee cup.
"Excuse me?"
"You win, you had me convinced. You win."
He smiled. "Years of practice."
Rebecca looked down and noticed that Charlie had not released her hand and that she had not moved her own.
Very gently, with a courtesy that Rebecca thought had died on that terrible day when the Army of Virginia mobilized, Charlie bowed, and raising her hand, gently caressed it with his lips. "Thank you for an evening of civilization in a very uncivilized time."
After supper, Rebecca prepared another bath. This time she provided a nightshirt and robe that belonged to her brother. As Charlie bathed and relaxed, she turned down the bed and retrieved a spare blanket and pillow from the cabinet. She was just about to slip a nightgown over her head when she heard Charlie clear her throat. She let it drop over her head and shoulders, falling to the floor around her body before turning around. "Ready for a soft bed?"
"Ah, you have no