whose eye were full of fright. “Now, now, Emily. No news from the field,” he soothed. “I just wanted give Susanna something. Rest your mind.”
Susanna lowered her voice. “Is Claudine still alive?”
He handed her a note with delicate, spidery handwriting.
“‘Merci,’” Susanna read. “That’s all?”
“It took all her strength, Fifi said.”
“Fifi?”
“One of the girls,” he replied, and held out a book. “This was at the hospital addressed to you, and it’s from a more dignified source.”
Puzzled, she took the book and let out a whoop that made Emily look up from her knitting in surprise. “Little Men! Oh, my! Is there a note?”
“Look inside.”
She did. “‘I have heard through the infamous army grapevine that you just completed Little Women,’” she read. “‘We just finished this at our house, and it’s the book that follows Jo March’s adventures. Keep it as long as you need it.’” Susanna ran her finger over the signature. “‘Mrs. Andrew Burt.’” She looked at the post surgeon. “She is so kind.”
Emily looked, too. “Susanna, do you have a champion?” she asked, amazement in her voice.
“Just a nice lady. That’s all,” she replied quietly, when she really wanted to dance around the room. “Please tell her thank-you for me, Major.”
“Tell her yourself,” he said, as he opened the door again. He touched Susanna’s nose. “I told you it was just a matter of hanging on a little longer.”
“You did,” she agreed, wishing he would stay there. She put her hand on his arm to detain him. “We’ve heard rumors of battle, and Emily and Katie are on edge. If you know anything …”
“I’ll tell you immediately,” he whispered back, his eyes on Emily sitting with her knitting, staring at the wall. He kissed Susanna’s cheek quickly. “Chin up.”
She tried to be severe with him. “You would do better to conjugate a French verb or two, rather than kiss me on the cheek like a Frenchman.”
“To be proper, I should kiss the other cheek, too,” he whispered, and did just that. “Do you know, Jules Ecoffey—whose French is excellent, if not his good taste—loaned me a scurrilous book of naked women and French text. It looks like more fun than conjugating everlasting verbs. So glad I didn’t hand you the wrong book just now. ‘Night, Susanna.”
Amazed, she stood in the open door, watching his jaunty walk as he crossed the parade ground. In another moment, he was whistling.
After school the next day, Susanna worked up her nerve to visit Elizabeth Burt. It took all her courage to knock on the door, and to her relief, the infantry captain’s wife opened her door wide and welcomed her.
“I was hoping you would visit me,” Mrs. Burt said. “Would you like some tea?”
Susanna was so terrified she didn’t think she could swallow, but she nodded. In another moment, she was seated in the parlor, teacup in hand.
“I wanted to thank you for the book,” she said, and took a sip. Peppermint. Just the way she liked it. “The men liked Little Women so well, and they are enjoying its companion now.”
“I thought they might. My husband blew his nose a lot when we were reading Little Women!”
She talked of inconsequentials then, and Susanna felt herself relaxing. By the time she left, she wondered why she had worried at all.
Mrs. Burt showed her out, touching her hand. “Mrs. Hopkins, would you object to cards here some evening with a few of my friends?”
Susanna felt her face drain of color. “I shouldn’t think …”
Mrs. Burt looked at her in a kindly manner. “You need never fear, in my home.” She touched her again. “Think about it, all right?”
March dragged, mainly because escort service between Fort Russell in Cheyenne and Fort Laramie was reduced to vital messages only, since so many mounted soldiers were in the Powder River country. The December and January newspapers had been around the fort twice, and were finally relegated to lining shelves and starting fires.
When Colonel Bradley, commanding officer of the Ninth Infantry, arrived to relieve Major Townsend of duty, he brought mail with him, and a stack of newspapers. They followed the usual pecking order of rank, with dependents last, but Major Randolph brought Emily and Susanna one Pennsylvania paper on the sly.
“Captain Dunklin snatched the Gettysburg paper, but he wasn’t quick enough to grab the Carlisle one, too,” Joe said as he presented the newspaper to Emily with a flourish. “What a dog in the manger. I’m glad I outrank him. Use it well and pass it on.”