course.” He looked over his shoulder again. “Susanna?”
It wasn’t a fluke. He saw relief in Susanna Hopkins’s eyes when she came out of the parlor, cousin Stanley riding on her hip, reaching for her spectacles. Captain Reese wandered back into the parlor, obviously the possessor of a shorter attention span than his son.
Susanna set down Stanley and cleaned her spectacles on her apron. Spectacles off, she looked at him, and he was struck with her mild beauty. He probably shouldn’t have—it smacked of the grossest impertinence—but Joe touched that dimpled spot under her left eye. She stepped back, startled.
“Beg pardon, ma’am. I am curious—can you see out of that eye?”
He supposed she could have ordered him from the house, but she didn’t. She put her glasses back on. “I have a corrective lens in that side. The other lens is plain glass.”
He had his suspicions, but he wanted to ask how she had come by such an injury. Yet he knew he should beg her pardon. She held up her hand, maybe knowing what he intended.
“Don’t apologize. I know your interest is medical.”
He nodded, wondering if she was right.
“I’m a blockhead,” he said simply. “Will you come with me tomorrow morning after guard mount to see Major Townsend? He needs to see your certification. Since I am president of the administrative council, you are my responsibility.” Good Lord, you sound like a jailer, he thought, disgusted.
Susanna Hopkins didn’t see it that way, apparently. “Certainly! The sooner I offer my credentials, the sooner I can get out of …”
She blushed, which he found charming.
“This house?” he asked in a whisper. “Tell you what, Mrs. Hopkins, after we visit the colonel, I’ll introduce you to your next-door neighbor. She’s clever, witty and …”
“Not what my cousin has already said?” Susanna finished. “I thought as much. I would like that. But tell me, what is guard mount?”
He was on sure ground now. “It’s our one daily affair, when the night guard goes off duty and the day sentries come on. In the summer, when there is no danger of trumpeters’ lips freezing on their mouthpieces, the band plays and the companies and troops go through the manual of arms.” He bowed. “Mrs. Hopkins, I will meet you on this porch at nine of the clock.”
“You don’t march?”
“Doctors don’t have to, thank God. And now I’d better go see if the hospital is still standing.”
It was a feeble witticism, but she nodded as though he had said something profound, and held the door open for him. Joe wasn’t going to look back at the Reese quarters as he started toward the hospital, but he turned around and there she was, watching him.
It was a small thing, but it gratified him as he walked to the hospital on its knoll behind the cavalry barrack. Not since Melissa had another female paid him any attention—at least, not that he was aware of.
The hospital was still standing. According to Theodore Brown, his steward, the contract surgeon had done no harm, all a man could hope for. Ted’s notes and files were impeccable as always, and much easier to read than Joe’s own scrawl. There was nothing to do but take an unnecessary ward walk, and return to his empty quarters.
Most of the quarters on Officers Row were dark now. He glanced at the Reeses’ duplex again, even though he knew it was silly to think that Mrs. Hopkins would still be standing there. To his surprise, she was.
I will be her friend, he thought as he went into his quarters. He knew someone as pleasant as Susanna Hopkins would make friends soon enough. From habit, he pressed the extra pillow next to him, and was soon asleep.
Chapter Five
“Can’t you sleep, cousin?” Emily asked Susanna, coming downstairs after closing the door to her own room. She came to the window to stand beside her. “Is there something unusual outside?” she asked. “Indians? Coyotes? Should we raise an alarm?”
Susanna sighed inwardly, certain that her cousin had never been inclined to stand at a window and think. She had just watched Major Randolph return from the hospital.
Touch me, Emily, she thought. Just put your hand on my shoulder. We used to be close, and now we are not. She tried to think of the last time anyone had touched her, until she realized that it was an hour ago, when Major Randolph had touched her eye out of professional curiosity. His fingers had been gentle.
Her cousin made no move. There had been a time when they had shared secrets, and a bed when they went to visit their mutual grandmamma, a tough old boot from Gettysburg who had spent that battle frying doughnuts for whichever army happened to control the town on any particular day and tramped near her kitchen.
One of them had to speak, and Susanna knew she was the one with both gratitude and grievance. “Emily, I appreciate your arranging this teaching position,” she said, before the silence between them reached an awkward stage.
Emily turned startled eyes on her. “I had nothing to do with it,” she exclaimed. “Mama knows a lady in town who is a sister of the colonel of the regiment. Mama inquired about any teaching positions out here, and word eventually got to the colonel. Mama contacted me.” There was no ignoring her tiny sigh, until Emily put on her company face again. “I told her we didn’t have room, but you know my mama.”
“I appreciate your sacrifice,” Susanna said. She knew her aunt’s expertise in twisting Emily’s arm, even through the U.S. mail. “This is a fresh start for me.”
She should have left it there, but she couldn’t, not with her anxiety about Captain Dunklin and his wife from Carlisle. “Why did you tell people I am a widow?”
Emily’s company face vanished as her eyes grew smaller. “Do you think I want anyone to know that you abandoned your child, and your husband divorced you for neglect?” she whispered.
Susanna gasped. “Emily, what have you heard? If I hadn’t left the house, Frederick would have beaten me to death!” She closed her eyes, remembering the pain and terror, and Tommy’s mouth open in a scream on the other side of the window as he watched her stagger down the walkway. “I didn’t abandon him! I had to save myself!”
“The newspaper Papa sent me said abandonment,” Emily told her, sounding virtuous, superior and hurt at the same time. “Such a scandal! I had to say what I did, or you never would have been hired. You should thank me for thinking of it.”
“What the papers printed was a lie. My former husband—when he sobered up—hired a good lawyer and paid all the other lawyers in a fifty-mile radius not to take my case,” Susanna said, trying not to raise her voice. “You never had to say anything. I am just Mrs. Susanna Hopkins. All they want is a teacher.”
Emily looked at her with sad eyes. “What did you do to make him so angry?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Susanna replied, wanting to end this inquisition, because her cousin’s mind was already made up. Pennsylvania may have been miles away, but nothing had changed. “About five years ago, Frederick’s business began to fail and he started drinking to excess. After that, nothing I did was right. Nothing.”
She stopped, thinking of those afternoons she had come to dread, waiting for Frederick to return home. She’d always tried to gauge his attitude as he walked up the front steps. Was he going to be sober and withdrawn, ready to sulk in his study? Or would he be drunk and looking everywhere for something to touch off a beating or more humiliating behavior, once Tommy was asleep? She never knew which it would be.
For all his simplicity, Susanna knew Emily’s husband was a kind man and her cousin would never suffer such treatment. Emily hadn’t the imagination to think ill of Frederick, who could put on a company face as good as her own.
“I’m