Free Erin's Rebel by Susan Macatee Page B

thin face appeared even more haggard than the last time they’d spoken. “You need rest,” Will said.
    Doc laughed. “You don’t look all that well yourself.”
    “How bad is it?”
    “You’ll live. Just don’t expect to be up and walking any time soon.”
    Will grimaced as he stretched his protesting muscles.
    Doc glanced toward the barn entrance. “I do believe I see your own personal nurse.”
    He twisted his head to see to whom Doc was referring. Erin approached carrying something wrapped in a towel.
    “Can he have soup, Doc?” she asked.
    “I reckon so. Just take it slowly.”
    Erin wore her hair pulled back off her face and coiled into a bun. She perched on a stool by his cot holding the bundle in her lap. When she unwrapped it, the aroma of chicken broth teased his nostrils.
    Her gaze fastened on his face. “Are you hungry?”
    “Starved.” He grinned.
    She returned his smile. “I brought you some broth.”
    “Go right ahead.” Doc said. “I’m off to get a few hours sleep.”
    Once the doctor left, she slowly spooned the liquid into his mouth. The warm flavor of chicken felt wonderful against his dry throat. But the real healing power came from the beautiful angel feeding him.
    ****
    Four months later, the army camped on a farm near Winchester, Virginia. When the Confederates had retreated from Gettysburg, Doc made sure Will wasn’t left behind. Over the past few months, as he’d slowly recovered, Erin had made it her personal mission to nurse him back to health, and in so doing, they’d grown close. But she still worried over her former life and wondered if she’d ever get back. What would happen if she did?
    At night alone in her tent, she relived flashes of the dreams she’d had in the months before coming here. But these were more vivid than any dreams she’d had before. In those dreams, they were lovers, but she couldn’t give herself completely to him. The shadow of betrayal and loss clouded those dreams turning them to nightmares from which she wanted nothing more but to escape.
    ****
    Two weeks later, Erin stood before her washtub agitating soiled clothes with a long stick containing points on the end. Brigid called it a dolly . The day in, day out physical toil was wearing her down. No showers, no modern conveniences, living outdoors day after day, not to mention her diet, which was sadly lacking. What she wouldn’t give for a pizza. Would she have to endure this life forever, or was it possible to return to her time?
    Will slowly recovered from his battle wounds, although he remained in the hospital under Doc’s care and was unfit to return to duty. Doc had suggested he take a furlough, and Will considered it. An uneasy feeling washed over her as she wondered where it would leave her if he left camp.
    She hung the laundry to dry, frustrated that clothes dryers didn’t yet exist, then returned to the medical tent to check on him. She found him propped on pillows reading the local newspaper. His face looked a bit thinner, his skin pale, and his formerly clean-shaven cheeks had acquired a dark growth.
    “You’re looking better today,” she said. “Have you been eating?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He ran a hand across his jaw. “I could use a shave, though.”
    “Don’t look at me.” She hoped he wasn’t suggesting she do it.
    He frowned at her. “You’ve never shaved a man before?”
    She shook her head.
    “Not even your husband?”
    She nearly blurted out that she’d never been married. “I don’t remember.”
    “You haven’t regained memory of your past?”
    “Just snippets here and there,” she lied. In truth, she used what she knew of Grandma’s historical records she’d read in the future and the stories Grandma had told her. The rest came from the journal. The journal that was now missing.
    She suspected Jake had taken it. Believing it would only make things worse, she didn’t want to confront him. Fortunately, he’d stayed away from her. But she had a