“It’s mighty kind of you to take us in,” Private Bartholomew Anderson said as he sat with his brother’s head on his lap. Both men were young—only seventeen and nineteen years old. They were not hardened soldiers but simple farmers who hadanswered Lincoln’s call to maintain the Union. Farnum Anderson had suffered a bullet wound, which passed through his arm. I had done my best to clean out the debris and stitch up the entrance and exit wounds. He’d also been trampled when he fell to the ground and had been unconscious for most of the train ride into Washington. Thankfully, he’d regained consciousness by the time I encountered them, but he had signs of concussion and needed rest.
“It’s my pleasure,” I said a moment before Joseph opened the carriage door. Several of the lights were lit within the house. “Will you please assist Farnum?” I asked Joseph.
Bartholomew had also sustained several injuries, including a brick to the head, so he wouldn’t be able to help his brother. Thankfully, he had no signs of concussion, but he had a laceration and a large hematoma on his forehead. His shoulder had been dislocated, and he’d been in extreme pain when I approached him at the station. I had been able to put the joint back into place with Joseph’s help, but it was sore and would need a couple of weeks to heal.
“Yes, Miss Margaret.” Joseph helped me out of the carriage and then assisted Bartholomew and, finally, Farnum.
Joseph had watched in awe while I worked at the station. I knew he had a hundred questions, but I was trying to ignore his probing gaze. I could never explain to him how I knew what to do with a dislocated shoulder or why I had asked Farnum dozens of questions and performed a neurological examination to ascertain the severity of his concussion.
The rain had started to let up, but a gentle mist still lingered in the air as we walked to the back door and entered the kitchen. Roast beef and vegetables were warming at the back of the stove, sending off a profusion of delicious scents. I was surprised Papa had waited supper for me, but I was also thankful because I was famished. Once I had Bartholomew and Farnum situated upstairs, I would join him.
And face his ire. I knew it was inevitable once I decided to take the Anderson brothers into our home, but I had little choice.
Goldie turned from the stove, a fork in hand that she’d been using to stir the gravy. “Your papa’s been waiting in the parlor with some guests.” She looked me over and shook her head. “Best you clean up first before you join them.”
For the first time, I looked down at my gown. Mud lined the hem, and bloodstains were smeared along the front. I put my hand to my hair and realized it was also disheveled and probably looked a fright.
“Can you please prepare two extra plates for our guests?” I asked Goldie. “They’ll stay in the spare room at the top of the back stairs.”
“Margaret?” Papa pushed through the kitchen door. Worry lines had deepened around his eyes and mouth but were soon replaced with surprise—and then anger. “What is the meaning of this?”
Joseph was holding up Farnum, and Bartholomew was just behind them. He stood at attention when Papa entered the room.
I had a lot of talking to do, and it needed to be done fast. “I went to the station to meet the soldiers who arrived from Baltimore. I’m sure you’ve heard there was a mob and the soldiers were ambushed. I was able to bring food and medical supplies, and I met a young woman named Miss Clara Barton who knew many of these men, including Bartholomew and Farnum Anderson. There’s nowhere for the soldiers to stay, so they’re being taken to the Capitol Building—”
“I’m quite aware of where they’re going,” Papa interrupted. “They’re bivouacking in the Senate and House chambers. But that does not explain why you’ve brought two complete strangers into our house—or why you went there to help in the first place.”
“Miss Barton offered to take home a few of her friends who were injured and could not recover properly at the Capitol. So I agreed to do the same. These men have sustained serious injuries, and they need to rest in comfort for a few days before they can return to their regiment. I couldn’t leave them to suffer at the Capitol when they’ve risked their lives for us.”
He stared at me for several long, uncomfortable moments while no one else spoke. I hated upsetting or disappointing him, but I could endure it more than the thought of these men on the cold, hard floor of the Senate chambers.
“I suppose we cannot turn them out now.” Papa looked to Goldie. “See that they’re fed. And Joseph”—he turned to our man-of-all-work—“I want you to take care of them while they’re in this house.” He walked across the room and shook Bartholomew’s hand and then Farnum’s uninjured one. “I’m honored to have you as guests, and I thank you for your courage and valor today. My argument is not with you but with my impetuous daughter.”
The soldiers nodded and dipped their heads in deference to my father, who indicated they were free to leave the kitchen.
When they were gone, Papa turned to me, his emotions hard to read. “Mr. Cameron and Mr. Cooper are in the parlor, waiting patiently for their supper. I’ve tried to explain your absence as best I could, but I had no idea where you had gone. I want you to change as quickly as possible and return downstairs.”
“Of course.”
“And when everyone is gone, you and I will talk.”
I nodded, expecting no less.
Twenty minutes later, I walked down the front stairs in a fresh gown, with clean hands and my hair properly restored. Ever since Papa had said Mr. Cooper was in the house, my senses had been heightened, and I was thankful he had not witnessed my state of upheaval.
When I entered the front parlor, Mr. Cameron and Mr. Cooper rose from their chairs to greet me.
Though it had only been a day in this path since I’d seen Mr. Cooper, to me it had been three days. He looked just as dashing tonight as he had at the White House, and those intense brown eyes of his instantly made me conscious of everything about myself. I didn’t usually care too much about my appearance, but Mr. Cooper’s opinion of me suddenly mattered a great deal.
He took me in with an admiring smile and a slight bow.
“I’m sorry to have kept all of you waiting,” I said. “I didn’t intend to be gone for so long. Had I known we were expecting company, I would have been home much sooner.”
“Please don’t concern yourself over us,” Mr. Cameron said. “We’ve had plenty to talk about as we waited.”
“Shall we go in to supper?” Papa asked, indicating that everyone move into the dining room.
Mr. Cameron followed Papa, putting his hand on Papa’s shoulder as he spoke to him in quiet tones.
