Christmas at Carnton (Carnton 0.5)(53)

She pulled his blanket up over her. “Mrs. McGavock told me this afternoon that the auction has already brought in almost as much money as they’d estimated for the entire event. And we still have another four days.”

“It’s been a great success, Aletta. You should be proud.”

“I am. And I’m also grateful to you for all your help.”

“I just did what you told me to do.”

She laughed. “I know. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

He smiled, sensing a layer or two of her wall coming down. He enjoyed the chance to watch her as she told him about things that had happened behind the scenes over the past few days. Finally, a comfortable silence settled between them and they stared up at the stars.

“Captain Winston?” Andrew stirred beside him and yawned. “Is it time yet?”

“Almost, buddy. I was just about to wake you. Someone I think you may know has joined us.” Jake hoped the boy wouldn’t resent his mother being here.

Andrew looked over his shoulder. “Mama,” he whispered, and smiled. “We’ve been havin’ fun.”

“That’s what I hear.”

Andrew sat up. “Captain, can I look through your rifle glass again?”

Jake smiled and handed it to him. “Rifle sight.”

“Rifle sight,” the boy repeated. “Captain Winston is a sharpshooter, Mama. That means he can shoot just about anything, no matter how far away it is.”

“Is that right?” she said softly, and Jake heard a touch of uncertainty in her voice, as though she were questioning if he’d told the boys more than she might approve of.

Andrew held the sight to his eye and looked up, then finally exhaled. “I can’t get it to work anymore.” The boy handed it to him. “Can you fix it?”

Jake pointed. “Remember to turn that little knob to the left or right until what you’re looking at becomes clear.”

Andrew tried again. “It’s still not workin’.”

Jake took it from him, went through the motions of holding it up to his eye and squinting, then turned the knob a little and handed it back, aware of Aletta watching him.

The boy shook his head. “I think it’s broken.”

“Here . . .” Aletta reached for it. “Let me try.”

She peered through the sight and adjusted the lens, then handed it back to him. “There you go. All fixed.”

Andrew lay back down and stared up while Jake busied himself with tending the fire.

“I can’t find the Big Dipper anymore, Captain Winston.”

Jake glanced up, the night sky a blur, and he grew a little uncomfortable. “Sure you can. It’s right up there.”

“Right up where?”

Jake felt the back of his neck heat. “Why don’t we wake up Winder, give him a chance to find it.”

He coaxed Winder awake, and the boy searched the night sky, but he couldn’t locate the constellation either. The boys sat there looking at him, and if Jake hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought he was being set up. But he did know better. No one here knew about that injury. But this wasn’t the time or place to—

“The Big Dipper is just over the height of that tallest tree right there.” Aletta leaned forward, pointing. “And once you see that, you should be able to see the bear.”

“I see it!” Winder grinned, then handed Andrew the sight, and he took a turn. Then the boy passed it to Jake, and Jake again went through the motions, looking in the same direction they had.

Aletta reached for the basket. “How about some pecan pie and milk?”

She served them each a slice, and they ate in silence as the sun came up, the boys nearly nodding off again, while Jake quietly savored the taste of home—the sweet and buttery filling with pecans on top crusted in syrup. How he’d missed this.

“This is just like my own mama used to make,” he said after a moment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered, then began gathering everything back into the basket.

He did likewise with the camp and when they reached the house, he dropped the boys’ pallets inside the front hallway and turned to leave.

“Jake . . .”

He paused, and the look in her eyes unnerved him.

“Thank you again for accompanying the boys on their sleepout. I can tell they really enjoyed it.”

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it too.”

She opened her mouth as if about to say something else, then merely smiled and closed the door. And that’s when he was all but certain she knew the truth. Or at the very least, she suspected it.





CHAPTER 21

Why hadn’t he told her the truth?

The question kept turning over and over in Aletta’s mind as she worked beside Tempy preparing breakfast for the McGavock family that morning, then as the hired cooks and volunteers arrived and yet another day of baking and cooking for the auction got under way.

Yet deep down she knew why. But what bothered her far more was her own audacity in repeatedly questioning his motives in being here. Not only to herself, but to him. She had even questioned whether he’d really been wounded or not.

A sharpshooter who could no longer see well enough to shoot. Or at least, not at a distance.