Free The Christmas Ball by Susan Macatee Page A

my job.” Sara gathered the instruments Doc needed and placed them on a tray. She then found a pan and filled it with fresh water from the barrel on tap.
    The woman turned back to her chore of sorting. “Suit yourself.”
    She made her way back to Doc and set the tray with the instruments and pan on a small table near the wounded man.
    “Thank you, Private.” Ellison flashed that smile again.
    Her face flushed. “If you need any more help, I’ll be glad to assist.”
    “Of course. If you could hold him down while I dig out the ball, that would be a big help.”
    “Sure, Doc.” She smiled. Just being close to him was a thrill. If only she could show him the soldier he thought of as a boy was really a woman.
    Hours later, toward dawn, she realized she should have been dead on her feet, but the wounded required constant attention. These men were her comrades and she’d do anything in her power to help, even if it meant giving up sleep. They’d do the same for her.
    One of the officers entered the tent. “Who’s in charge here?”
    “I am, sir,” Ellison called from the back of the tent.
    Sara glanced between Captain Werth and the doctor, as Doc made his way to the entrance. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
    “We need men to carry wounded from the field.”
    “Has the battle ended?”
    The captain scratched his full beard. “There may still be some sniper shooting, but we need to get those wounded off that field. The temperature was damn cold last night. Some of them may have already frozen to death.”
    “I understand,” Ellison said. “I’ll choose a few stewards to assist you.” He frowned when his glance settled on Sara.
    “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can,” she said.
    “Very well.” He glanced around the tent, hand picking three other soldiers.
    The captain signaled the men to follow him. As she moved to obey, Ellison rested a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her body.
    “Take care, son. And bring back as many as you safely can.”
    “Sure, Doc.” After a glance at his face, she moved away to follow the captain outside.
    ****
    Kirk Ellison watched the soldiers march off behind the captain. He sighed and closed the tent flap. When Private Brewster had been assigned as a hospital steward, he’d taken the lad under his wing. He seemed too young and vulnerable to be in the army, should have been home on the farm helping his parents tend crops. Kirk had taken it upon himself to see to it that Brewster was permanently assigned hospital duty to keep him off the battlefield. He would hate to see the boy injured or killed.
    A nurse, one of the volunteers from Maryland, approached gathering her skirts to keep them from being caught on the edges of the tables and cots.
    “Will you be needing me to put fresh sheets on the empty cots, Doctor?”
    “Yes, I fear more casualties are about to arrive. Maybe more than we can handle.”
    The woman nodded. “I’ll do as many as I can.” As she turned away, he eyed her petite form and golden hair. Since he’d started his training at medical school, he hadn’t had much time for social pursuits. The young ladies he’d courted when he’d been apprenticed in Philadelphia, before going away to the university, had been mere diversions. But he had no dearth of young women showing interest in an unattached doctor, just didn’t have the time to pursue any type of courting with the demands the army put on his time.
    He, another doctor and a few of the women nurses, readied the cots for new casualties. He cleaned his instruments and finally had time to sit and take the cup of tea a nurse handed him. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Last year, both armies had ceased hostilities over the winter months, but it seemed the fighting would go on this year right through Christmas. He doubted he’d get a furlough this year like he did over the holidays last year to pay a visit to his family in Washington, D.C. His father had