Fire from dozens of campfires lit up the valley like an inverted sky. They dotted the fields, twinkling with a merriment unsuited for such foul company. Evelyn set her teeth. She was tired of being afraid. Alice was right. Those Yanks down below were all the same as the miscreants who had invaded her aunt’s house in Martinsburg, and any schemes worked against them were earned.
Thinking of her aunt caused her empty belly to tighten. Surely by now Hattie had alerted Aunt Mary that Evelyn had chosen to go to Washington without escort. Did she and Isabella worry?
She shook the thought away and decided it didn’t matter. Why did she always strive to please a woman who would never care? No, better she put her efforts into Daddy’s cause.
Alice’s features were barely visible in the silted moonlight, but her voice was firm. “If we keep our heads low and move around like we are supposed to be here, no one will notice us.”
Though doubt refused to release its hold, Evelyn squared her shoulders. “Very well.”
They skirted farther to the left, carefully stepping over branches and upturned roots. A cool breeze portending a harsh winter kissed the back of her neck and sent a shiver down her aching back. They huddled among the trees, watching like orphans on the outskirts of a king’s feast.
A score or more of women buzzed around a huddle of campfires, tending pots. Roasting meat turned over flames as smoke wafted lazily in the air. A shift of the breeze, and the sizzling smells caused Evelyn’s stomach to complain. She pressed her hand into her belly but didn’t succeed in stifling either the grumbling or the ache.
Evelyn glanced around in the dark and picked up a fallen limb. “Here, gather some wood.”
“What? I can scarcely see.” Alice shifted in the shadows, her skirt skimming over rustling leaves.
“And what do you suppose those women will think of us strolling out of the woods? At least if we have some wood, we can look like we’ve been gathering it for the fires.”
“Oh! Marvelous idea.” Alice stooped to gather a few branches, and the two of them stumbled around in the dark. It was a fragile plan at best, but better than nothing.
When they had a sufficient armload, Evelyn thrust her chin toward the camp even though she knew Alice couldn’t see her. “All right then, let’s go.”
Faint music intertwined with the delicious aroma, and coupled with the dancing firelight, the camp held an atmosphere that made the place appear almost festive. Evelyn ignored the thud of her heart and kept her chin down, walking straight toward the encampment as though she belonged. Alice tripped behind her, nearly dropping her load.
The warm circle of light beckoned, offering a safe haven of comforts that at the moment seemed less the enemy than the woods. They drew nearer, and the sounds of the crackling fire, the high-pitch of women’s laughter, and the hum of conversation slithered into her ears and promised security for the paltry price of betrayal.
Women of various ages milled around, some wiping their hands on their aprons, others unclipping linens from a line. They laughed as they worked, either forgetting or ignoring the shabby conditions brought on by bivouac camps. They did the women’s work that men, even in war, deemed either menial or unnecessary, contributing in their way to the comforts of those they cared for. Evelyn could respect that notion. Despite their loyalty to miscreants, she could esteem any woman who gave of herself to such a degree.
However, as for the women who saw to the men’s other needs…
She shook her head, trying not to gawk. Such women were not hard to spot, their raucous laughter and Jezebel eyes as telling as any signpost. They drew men deeper into the sanctuary of women, their hands lingering a second too long on a sleeve. With a disgusted grunt, Evelyn turned her face away as one shapely woman didn’t try to hide pulling a soldier into her tent.
Such a woman would not be of any aid. Evelyn scanned the more respectable camp followers until her gaze rested on a lone lady tending a fire slightly removed from all of the others. The woman’s gray locks were pulled back into a matronly knot at the base of her neck, giving her a practical and efficient appearance.
Evelyn turned her head slightly to whisper to Alice. “Let’s try her,” she said, gesturing to the matronly woman.
Without giving herself time to change her mind, Evelyn stalked forward, Alice’s steady footfalls behind her. The kindly looking woman tended a crackling fire, its light shooing away shadows. Evelyn gazed at her feet as they poked out from her skirts, then followed them all the way into the edge of the glow of the stranger’s campfire. She lowered the stack of wood in her arms, and a second later, Alice dumped hers next to Evelyn’s.
The limbs hit with a thud, one rolling into the edge of the flames.
The woman startled and dropped her wooden stirring spoon. “And who might you be?”
Evelyn clasped her hands in front of her and kept her gaze on the woman’s well-worn hem. “A laundress, ma’am. My sister and I have brought you more firewood.”
“Oh?”
Had Evelyn dared to look up into the woman’s face, she was certain she’d have seen distrust color the woman’s eyes.
“And who sent you out in the dark to fetch it?”
Evelyn’s pulse quickened at the suspicion thickening the woman’s tone. She shifted her weight from one blistered foot to the other. “No one, ma’am. I just thought…” Her words trailed off.
This had been a terrible idea. What had she been thinking? Lured into the dangers of a Yankee camp. She took a step back. “We’ll be going now.”
The woman’s hand shot out lightning quick and grabbed Evelyn’s wrist, causing her to yelp.
Alice mumbled something, but Evelyn didn’t look at her. Her gaze locked on the matronly woman who stared at her with hooded eyes. She looked Evelyn up and down as though contemplating what to do with her. Would she sound an alarm? What would they do then?
To her utter astonishment, the woman released Evelyn with a sigh. “All right, girls. The truth now.” Her voice softened, and she offered a grandmotherly smile. “Where did you two come from?”
Evelyn glanced at Alice in the firelight. Her hair was falling down on one side of her head, and dirt streaked her cheek. Evelyn withheld a groan. How had she not noticed how pitiful they appeared? And after her run through the woods, she must look much worse than Alice. No wonder the woman suspected them.
“We…” Evelyn twisted her hands together.
“Just looking for work, ma’am,” Alice said.
The lady glanced at Alice, then returned her regard to Evelyn. “Come now, child.” The woman stepped closer, her words gentle. “It’s all right.”
Evelyn blinked, caught off guard. “We, uh, we came from Front Royal.” She sensed, rather than saw, Alice stiffen beside her.
Time slowed as the woman studied them, their fate held in the balance. Cicadas buzzed a constant hum against the pop and crackle of the fire.
Finally, the woman chuckled. “Did you now? From the looks of you, I’d say you had a time of it.”
Evelyn stood a little taller. “We did, ma’am. We are trying to make it to my father in Washington. Just yesterday we, um, escaped across the river.”
The woman shook her head, her hand fluttering to her heart and resting on the gingham fabric that covered it. “Oh, you poor dears. What has this country come to? Those hotheaded fools making it so that young ladies have to run through the woods to escape their marauding.”
The words caught her off guard. Had secessionist soldiers acted in the same horrendous manner as the Yanks? Impossible. Daddy reported unbiased news, and surely he would have mentioned such a thing. She sought to keep the confusion from her face as Alice answered for them.
“It has been a difficult journey.”
“Why, of course it has, child.” The woman’s eyes pooled with pity. “Those intolerant traitors don’t care for anyone but themselves and their own greed. Why, the tales I’ve heard would turn your blood cold.”
Evelyn’s jaw fell open, but she snapped it closed. The woman patted her arm and then addressed Alice. “My goodness, girl. You look like something’s gone to nesting in your hair.” She waved a hand at them. “Come along. I’ll get you a pot of water warmed, and you can get washed up.”
Relief swarmed through Evelyn’s stomach. “We couldn’t possibly trouble you.”
“Of course you can. That’s why I’m here.”
Evelyn allowed the woman to shoo them toward a nearby canvas tent. “Pardon?”
The woman laughed. “It’s just the way of it.” She lifted the flap and motioned them inside.
A large rug covered the grass underneath, creating a cushion and barrier against the dust. A narrow bed stood against one wall. The lamp hanging from the highest point in the center of the tent cast dancing light across a neatly spread quilt. A miniature stove stood against the rear with a pipe lifting through to the top of the wall and then disappearing outside. A sturdy trunk with metal banding completed the furnishings.
“I’m Ida Johnson, but you can just call me Ida.” She looked at Evelyn expectantly.
Seeing no reason not to give at least their Christian names, she pointed to her friend. “This is Alice, and I’m Evelyn.”
The woman waited for a moment. When neither of them said more, she shrugged. “Good, then.” Ida turned and rummaged in a crate sitting near the stove and pulled a kettle from underneath a cloth. “I think a little tea is in order.” She eyed them. “I’ve some nightdresses you can borrow in the trunk. Best we get those gowns washed, too.”
While they gaped at such open hospitality, Ida bustled out of the tent, letting the flap fall behind her.
Alice scuttled to Evelyn’s side, her eyes wide. “I can’t imagine that could have gone any better, do you?”
Evelyn tried for a smile, but wound up only stretching dry lips instead. “No. I suppose not.”
“Hello?” A voice called from the other side of the tent flap. “May I come in?”
They glanced at one another. “You may,” Evelyn replied.
The flap parted, and a woman with a long blond braid draped over her shoulder entered with a tin plate. “It’s not all that much, you having missed the evening meal and all, but it’s something.” She lifted the plate toward them.
Alice accepted it. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”
The woman nodded and slipped out of the tent once more. No sooner had she gone than Alice plucked a slice of bread from the plate and shoved half of it in her mouth. Aunt Mary would have had a conniption if she saw Evelyn do such a thing, but hunger had a way of slaughtering propriety. She plucked a slice for herself and barely chewed before swallowing it down.
By the time Ida’s shadow crossed the rug once more, the plate had been cleaned of nearly every crumb. Ida said nothing, offering only a smile before setting a pot of steaming water by the little woodstove. “Wish there were a tub for you, girls, but a rag will have to do.”
Alice giggled. “Clean water is more than enough to ask for, ma’am. We thank you kindly.”
The older woman smiled, a gap between her front teeth making her all the more charming. She pushed her wrist against her brow and surveyed their dresses. “Just toss them out of the flap. I’ll see they get a good boiling. If the weather holds, you should be able to wear them by afternoon.”
The thought of being left with naught but a borrowed nightdress sent Evelyn hurrying to grab Ida’s arm before she could go. “I thank you, but how are we to go about tomorrow without gowns?”
“You may stay here and rest until they’re dry. I don’t have but the one bed, but I’ll fetch some extra blankets for you from some of the girls. They won’t mind.”
“Why are you out here?” Evelyn’s question came softly, spurred by curiosity over how someone so hospitable kept company with an invading army.
Ida wiped her hands on her skirts. “With the camp, you mean?” At Evelyn’s nod she continued. “My boys are in this army. I didn’t see any reason to sit at home and fret over it when I could come with them. I don’t see them much, mind you, but I know I’m helping them.” Ida’s gaze felt heavy. “I might ask you the same question, my dear, though I think I know.”
Evelyn somehow managed to keep her features impassive. “Oh?”
Ida laughed. “Come now, you don’t think you’re the first little gals to come looking for their sweethearts, now do you?”
Evelyn shook her head. “Oh, no, we…”
Ida’s face grew stern. “Then don’t go looking for one who isn’t already yours. Too many girls are getting their skirts in a twist, thinking they are doing good for these boys and letting the threat of battle get them to thinking they best find all the fun they can.”
Heat crept up Evelyn’s neck and seared into her ears.
“Now, then.” Ida’s businesslike tone signaled the conversation was over. “I’ll get you some gowns if I can find some you can borrow. Otherwise, you’ll be sitting here until yours dry.”
“And then?” Alice asked.
Ida shrugged. “Then, we’ll talk about what tasks you’ll do to earn your keep.”
An hour later they were washed, wore borrowed nightdresses, and sat working the tangles out of their hair with a comb.
Alice’s fingers tugged on Evelyn’s hair, twisting her hip-length locks into a braid before securing the bottom with a strip of twine. “This sure beats sleeping in the woods.”
“I almost thought we were going to have to,” Evelyn whispered.
Alice gave a playful tug on the knot of twine. “Don’t fret, sister. You’ve done very well.”
A surge of pride welled in her chest, and Evelyn twisted on the rug to properly face Alice. “You think so?”
“Of course. Why, a little longer, and you’ll be a heroine women prattle about in their sewing circles.”
Evelyn smiled. Perhaps so. And then wouldn’t Isabella be surprised? She curled her arm under her head and lay back next to Alice on their pallet. In a matter of moments, the swaying lantern overhead blurred and then disappeared behind the curtain of sleep.
The next day, Ida bustled in with two gowns, shoes, and of all things, crinoline cages. Evelyn rubbed grit from her eyes and stared at the bundle of things Ida tossed on the bed. The light warming the canvas walls and the sounds of the commotion outside indicated they’d slept well past dawn.
“Here now, aren’t you in luck?” Ida beamed, her cheeks dimpling. “Looks like some of the boys found a couple of trunks in an abandoned house.” She gestured toward the pile of fabric. “Now, Mrs. Lotta Pickers has claims on these things, seeing as how it was her husband who found them, but you girls can borrow them for the day ‘til your own things are good and dry.”
Evelyn rose and fingered the fine fabric of a lavender dress. “And these things were taken from someone’s home?” She ran her hand down an embroidered corset. “Won’t the lady that owns these be sore to find her things missing?”
Ida grunted. “Don’t be silly, child. Those rebels have long since run off.”
Evelyn exchanged a glance with Alice that Ida didn’t see. Alice’s features hardened, making her young face appear far more mature.
The older woman scuttled about, cooing over the fine clothing. “Now, you’ll look like good and proper ladies when you go see the captain today.”
“Captain?” The word seemed to stick to the roof of Evelyn’s mouth. “What captain?”
Ida snatched the blankets from the floor. “All the camp girls have to talk to the captain, dear. He’s in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “And with as pretty as you two are, we need to make sure everyone has the right impression. ‘Twas providence that sent this trunk in the nick of time, it was.”
She helped them dress and fawned over each piece of the finely made clothing, and then before Evelyn had time to formulate a proper plan for this turn of events, they were ushered out of the tent, her wide hoops barely squeezing through the opening. The idea of wearing such fashions in camp seemed utterly ridiculous.
She’d given up on looking like a well-to-do lady when she’d started tending wounded. Why in blazes would she want to strut around an army camp in such a getup? It served precisely the opposite purpose of what she aimed to accomplish—going unnoticed.
Alice swished along beside her, a rose gown buttoned all the way up to her throat. The woman who owned these things had been blessed with a figure neither she nor Alice possessed. The bosom of Evelyn’s gown was too loose where it should have been fitted to her smaller curves, and the waist of the bodice pulled against her middle despite Ida’s lacing the corset underneath up tight.
She crossed her arms, aware that every woman in the camp stared at her as she tried to make sure the wide hems didn’t brush into any fires. Not only was wearing the cane-enforced skirt making her conspicuous, it was downright dangerous.
“Ida, are you sure we need to be dressed in this fashion?” Alice tugged her lace collar, concern clearly etched across her forehead. “None of the other ladies are dressed in this manner.”
Ida spoke without turning. “None of the other girls are going to present themselves today.”
Evelyn didn’t like the way that sounded, but she had little option other than to move forward. They made their way through the women’s lines of drying uniforms, socks, and blankets, and then passed into the decidedly masculine portion of the camp. By the time Ida finally came to a halt outside one of the larger canvas structures, Evelyn felt certain her face must be the shade of a mulberry.
Ida said a few words to a knobby looking guard with wispy hair, and in a moment an officer with a pointed chin and probing eyes exited the tent.
His eyes roamed over them, and Evelyn had to force herself to keep from shifting under his intense gaze. “Came out of the woods, you say?”
Ida nodded. “The poor dears escaped over the river. Came from Front Royal, and from the looks of them, had a time getting past all those Rebs.”
The captain gave a curt nod. “What skills do you have?”
Evelyn laced her fingers. “We can do any manner of womanly efforts, sir. Mending, washing, cooking…” She trailed off on that last part, as she had doubts anyone would want to eat anything made by her hand. But then, she had no intention of staying long enough for anyone to find out.
“Nursing?”
“We’ve tended to wounded before,” Alice piped up.
Evelyn tried not to grimace. Didn’t she see such an answer would lead to questions about when and where they’d gained such experience?
The captain seemed not to notice. He spoke to Ida as though she and Alice were not standing there. “Send them to General Winfield. They can serve at the hospital and boost the lad’s spirits.” He turned on his heel and disappeared back inside his tent.
Ida gestured they return to the women’s area. “Very good, girls. Now, see, you did well.”
Evelyn thought to disagree, but there’d be no point. She simply turned her lips into a fabricated smile, too relieved the man hadn’t asked further into their nursing experience to be annoyed at this ridiculous pageantry. Why did they need to be dressed in such a manner to answer a single question from an officer?
As they were ushered back through the camp the way they had come, Evelyn’s eyes roamed the men, taking note of their condition, their numbers, and the lines of their camp.
Campfires smoldered, sending smoke curling around canteens, boots, sabers, and various other items the men left scattered around. Why, the boys at the hospital in Front Royal complained that they didn’t have enough supplies, and here were the Yanks tossing things about.
An idea formed. A wild, foolish idea. Evelyn stepped to the side, the hem of her skirt sliding over a musket. For an instant, the weapon remained hidden under the wide plains of her dress. Her lips quirked.
Come evening, she would help to remedy that problem.
“You’re brilliant!”
“Shh,” Evelyn hissed. She cut her gaze to Ida’s bed, but the woman’s soft snores continued undisturbed.
Alice bobbed her head, the movement sending her curls swaying. She lowered her voice. “The Confederate camp isn’t that far. We could at least make it to the outskirts. How’d you ever think of such a thing?”
Evelyn grinned. “Didn’t you see all those things scattered about?”
“I did.” The light of a full moon seeped through the thin walls of the canvas tent, giving Evelyn enough light to see the contemplation on Alice’s face. “But that doesn’t mean they’re still out after dark.”
Evelyn scooted closer, casting another look at Ida. “But worth a try, yes?”
“Yes.” Alice winked and tugged on a pair of boots and hooked the buttons. “I knew you would be great at this.”
A few moments later, Alice grabbed a blanket and Evelyn peeled back the tent flap. Clouds hung low in the sky, breaking up the moon and leaving slivers of pale light across the ground that resembled cast-aside swords. Campfires had smoldered down into a glow of embers, creating circles of red that contrasted with the silver filtering from above.
Somewhere in the distance an owl called to its mate. Frogs croaked in their nightly gatherings. Evelyn strained her ears to sift through the noises, but no human sounds disturbed those born of nature. Evelyn waved her hand behind her, gesturing that it was safe for Alice to follow, and then slipped out.
Evelyn stood in the bands of silver and waited. It took two long, controlled breaths and a smattering of rapid heartbeats before she felt safe to continue. Alice moved around Evelyn’s side, her white shift seeming to have a faint glow in the moonlight and making her appear like an apparition.
Evelyn shoved the haunting thought aside and skirted the nearest campfire.
Keeping to the shadows, Evelyn crept through the camp, surprised to find not a single soldier sitting with his weapon at the ready to fire upon an intruder. Such pickets must all be positioned outside the camp itself. How they had managed not to find one when they’d first approached baffled her.
Alice grabbed Evelyn’s hand, her palm cold without a glove to ward off the night’s chill. “I don’t see anyone.”
“And they’ve left their stuff out.” She gave Alice’s hand a quick squeeze. “Quickly, gather what you can. But don’t take everything from one tent, as that might make them suspicious.”
The clouds hid whatever expression Alice may have had, and Evelyn hurried to the nearest soldier tent before either of them could change their mind. Inside the canvas structure, a man snored so loudly that she scooped up a bayonet, a box of shot, and a carving knife without making a single sound that could have been heard over it.
She continued slinking from one tent to another, pilfering items left around the campfires and propped against trees. A twinge of guilt nipped at her heart, but she shoved it away.
Thou shalt not steal.
Evelyn ground her teeth. Thou shalt not murder, either, yet war was what it was. Her sin seemed the lesser of the two. And if by playing a lady Robin Hood and stealing from the Yanks to give to the Secessionists who were grossly under supplied, well, then…
The argument crumbled away. Evelyn set her teeth and turned herself to the task with more vigor. She would do what she must, even if it seared her conscience.
Some of the Yanks had been daft enough to leave rifles and pistols out of arm’s reach while they snored in idle tents. Such the better. By the time Evelyn finished moving as deep into the camp as she dared, she’d gathered a rather large pile of items. Taking one final armful, she crept back to the wide branches of a pin oak, its boughs not sufficient enough to hide her clandestine movements from the eyes of heaven.
Evelyn gently placed a metal pot on top of the pile of stolen goods and surveyed her work, waiting for Alice to appear. The biggest question now would be how long it would take them to get these things secured. They wouldn’t have much time.
A shimmer of white slipped past the nearest tent. Evelyn remained still so as not to startle Alice as she approached.
“Did you find enough?” Alice whispered, laying two rifles next to the rest of the stash.
“Yes. Now let’s hurry and roll this up.”
She grabbed the corners of the borrowed blanket, trying to make as little noise as possible. Alice grabbed the other end, and together they maneuvered their way around the tents. Each rattle made her heart skip. At any moment a man would see them.
But no forms emerged from the soldier’s tents, and no bugle blast signaled thieves were creeping among the ranks.
They made it back to where Evelyn had previously stashed skirts behind the laundress’ washtubs when she’d gone to do private business just before bed. Chest heaving, whether from fear or the exertion of the load, Evelyn lowered the bulging blanket behind a large tub and dropped to her knees.
“We did it!” Alice said, her excitement bringing her voice above a whisper.
Evelyn tossed her a ball of twine. “We’re not finished yet. Best not to count our fortunes prematurely.”
Alice snagged the string and grabbed one of the hooped crinoline cages. They cut slits in the fabric around the boning, and then with careful loops and a lot of knots, set to tying four sabers, two muskets, six pistols, a cooking pot, three canteens, five knives, and sundry smaller items to the hoops of each one of the skirts.
By the time they’d finished, Evelyn’s fingers were shaking from both the cold and the tedious job. She’d thought at any moment someone would discover them, but no one stirred.
The items were secured and the two of them encased in their weighted fashions by the time the sky began to lighten. Evelyn pulled at the string holding up the crinoline. Even with her corset, the skirt was so heavy it squeezed her middle like an anaconda.
Alice turned in her gown, holding out her hands. “Well?”
No one would know by looking at her that Alice carried as many items as a sutler. “Walk easy. Too much movement and something may rattle.”
“Best we get moving before camp awakens, then.”
“Yes.” Evelyn lifted her face to a sky the same color as the gunmetal hidden beneath their skirts. “We’ve a long and difficult walk to the other camp with all this weight. It will surely slow us.”
Evelyn ignored her conscience once more and told herself the sin was worth the good it would bring. Then with stealthy steps, she lifted the stolen supplies and hastened toward the maw of the woods.