by Kelli Estes
Suddenly, it was Emily’s turn at the front of the line. Fear flared hot inside her, and she felt her face flame. Ducking her head, she reached out for the apple and cookie. The captain’s wife placed both in her hand without a word, and Emily mumbled, “Thank you, ma’am,” and hurried after Ben without waiting to see how Willie fared.
Dark had settled, and a cold breeze blew through camp with the scent of coming snow. They agreed to eat their dinner indoors and soon were settled inside around the fireplace. Even MacGregor and Schafer joined them, and as they ate, they all shared stories of Christmases past.
When Schafer left to report for guard duty, MacGregor also left, no doubt to join another group gambling on cards. That left the three of them, and now, out of sight of any others, they all relaxed. Ben sat on his bunk with Willie close beside him, their fingers intertwined.
Emily remained on the dirt floor near the fire and watched them for a moment, wondering what their future held. Would the war end soon, and if so, where would they live—Indiana or Nebraska? Would they start a family? Would Emily be there, too?
She’d been thinking a lot about what she wanted when the war ended. Hopefully, that came sooner than the end of her enlistment period of three years. She didn’t want to think what over two and a half more years of soldiering was going to be like when she was already tiring of it. Sure, she loved the freedom she felt as a man, but she was starting to see that a soldier wasn’t really free at all. Every moment of the day was dictated, and anyone who dared to do something against the rules was severely punished. Emily couldn’t even decide for herself when to eat, when to sleep, where to stand. It was only with careful planning, and Willie’s help more than once, that she was able to sneak into the woods every morning and night to relieve herself.
Willie had become vital to Emily in ways she hadn’t expected. While Emily loved being a man, she was surprised to find that having another woman around helped to ease the difficulty of Army life. She was sure the men felt as miserable as she did, but they handled it differently. Maybe it was simply that they were more used to dirt, grime, stink, and discomfort than she was. Or maybe the pressure of always having to guard her secret was what was wearing her down. Whatever it was, having Willie to quietly commiserate with helped.
“I’ve been waiting all day to give you two your Christmas presents.” Ben dug in his trousers pocket and pulled out something small. “I got the idea a few weeks back when we sewed our names onto our coats.”
He handed something to Willie and then held his hand out toward Emily. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”
As Emily held the object toward the light of the fire, she realized it was a ring.
“It has my name on it!” Willie exclaimed.
Emily looked closer at hers and saw that inscribed on the outside of the narrow band was the name E. Jesse Wilson along with 9th Indiana Inf. Co D. “Oh, Ben, how did you afford this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t got much else to spend my pay on so I asked a sutler to get them for me. Go on. See if it fits.”
The ring was small, but it fit perfectly onto her pinkie finger. Now, barring the chance her hand was shot off, her body could be identified. The thought dropped her into the darkness lingering over her since the battle, but she refused to let Ben see her melancholy. She formed her lips into a smile. “Thank you, Ben. That was kind of you.”
“Did you get one for yourself?” Willie asked as she admired the ring on her own hand.
“I did.” Ben dug into his other pocket and withdrew a third ring, which he slipped onto his own finger. “Someday our grandchildren will look at these and know we honorably served our country.”
Emily got to her feet and went to sit on the bunk next to her brother. She picked up his hand and intertwined her fingers through his as she leaned against his shoulder. On the other side, Willie did the same.
As they sat together and waited for the bugle to sound, calling them to Assembly and Tattoo, they watched the flames and held one another close. “I have all I want for Christmas,” Emily told them, her heart full. “I have my brother and my new sister with me tonight.”
Ben squeezed her hand, and Willie reached over to pat her arm.
“You know,” Emily said, “it’s funny that I had to become a man before I finally got a sister.”
“Except she’s a man, too,” Willie joked.
“You have a point,” Emily said. “Another brother, then.”
Ben chuckled. “My dear Willie, I, for one, am grateful that you are indeed not a man.”
Willie lifted her face to smile at him, and Emily felt a pang in her heart. “Excuse me,” she said as she got to her feet, doing her best not to look at the two lovebirds. “I need to…um…go. I’ll see you at Tattoo.”
She darted out of the tent and sucked in the cold night air to keep tears from falling. She’d be glad when this emotional day was over.
A snowflake drifted down and landed on her nose, quickly followed by several more. As she watched, the snow came faster and faster, and she held her breath, watching the beauty of everything around her being blanketed by a layer of white perfection.
Even in war, peace finds a way.
Chapter Seventeen
Present day: Woodinville, Washington
December 25, 1861: It is Christmas Day. If we were back at home, we would be eating roasted turkey. Oh, my mouth waters thinking of the mashed potatoes and gravy, roasted brussels sprouts, and soft dinner rolls warm from the oven! I cannot complain, however, about our Christmas rations. Here we ate fresh beef and peas with real butter. The captain’s wife visited camp and gave every soldier a fresh apple and a molasses cookie. I felt sad for her. She seemed lonely. I feel sad for us, too, on this day when families gather together. Without Pa and David to share in the holiday joy, today should have been a day like any other. I feel their absence keenly. I must, however, focus on what I do have, and those are a brother and a sister second brother in Willie. They are all I need.
Ben and I don’t get boxes from home, of course, but neither does Willie. It seems he had a falling out with his family, and they don’t know where he is. Knowing this, I am doubly grateful that we found him. He can be part of our family.
Others shared the contents of their boxes with the three of us, which was kind. With the Christmas boxes came newspapers, and word has spread through camp that Queen Victoria of England has lost her husband to typhoid fever. Even though she is not American like me, nor involved in this bitter war, I feel a kinship with her. Is the entire world in mourning?
Larkin gripped the diary in both hands, her heart racing. Emily had clearly written the word sister when talking about Willie and then crossed it out. Could Willie have been a woman, too? What were the chances that two women disguised as men served in the same regiment?
She had to know for sure so she texted Zach Faber: Willie was a woman, right? That’s what you wanted me to discover on my own?
His reply was immediate, even though they hadn’t had any contact since their phone call. Bingo! Fascinating, huh?
Totally! Before she could second-guess herself, she added, Merry Christmas!
You too!
Larkin set her phone aside and wished she could return to reading the diary. Now that she knew Willie was a woman, everything was different. Willie’s relationship and interactions with Emily and Ben meant different things.
Another realization hit her. This was why Zach had suspected that the handkerchief had something to do with Willie! If it didn’t belong to Emily or Ben—which it surely didn’t with initials so different from their own—then it must belong to the only other person they’d been close to, assuming a new relationship didn’t appear in the diary later. This was a good lead to go on. ODE must have been Willie’s initials, for surely Willie Smith had not been her real name.
Larkin was dying to keep reading,
but she couldn’t. She’d promised Grams she wouldn’t hide up here all day, and even though crowds made her nervous, it was time she joined the family downstairs. Today was Christmas, after all.
Maybe she could take a few moments to go through Sarah’s things. She did promise Zach she’d send him some items. But as she stared at the boxes, she realized the task still felt too daunting. She probably shouldn’t have made the offer.
A burst of laughter floated upstairs, and Larkin grudgingly admitted she was stalling. Consoling herself with her plan to blend into the background and avoid conversation as much as possible to avoid a freak-out, she left her room.
The entire clan was there, even Uncle Matt who’d had to sit in his car on Snoqualmie Pass for two hours on the drive over while crews performed avalanche control. Everyone wanted to hug her and welcome her home, but they all kept their conversation light and short. She knew she had Grams to thank for that.
Larkin was especially grateful that everyone tried not to overwhelm her when her own mother failed to keep conversation light. It came when they were all settling around the table for dinner. Larkin sat across from Kat, and as she laid her napkin on her lap, her mother asked, “So, Larkin, have you found what you’re going to do with your life now that your indentured servitude with the government is over? It’s about time you put your college degree to use, if you ask me.”
A hush fell over the room until Grams asked, “Who wants some green beans?”
As everyone dug hungrily into the dinner of prime rib and twice-baked potatoes, Larkin ignored her mother’s question and kept her eyes on her own food. Somehow, she made it through the meal without snapping at her mother or giving in to the tension in her body that made her want to scream and run out of the room.
After the dishes were cleared, everyone gathered in the family room to open presents. It was all Larkin could do to stay rather than quietly escape upstairs. The heat and commotion were getting to her, as were the fake smiles and overly encouraging comments.
She tried to feel excited over the spa gift card her parents gave to her. Likewise, with the set of journals from Kaia, the yoga mat and video from Jenna, and the new pair of jeans and sweater from Grams. But Larkin felt nothing. Numbness filled her chest and spread through her body, and she couldn’t manage even a flicker of interest in any of it.
Last Christmas, before they deployed, Sarah had given Larkin a new pink scarf to wear as a head covering when working with Afghan locals. Larkin had loved that scarf and had worn it nearly every day.
The scarf was gone now. Like Sarah.
She got up to pour herself a whiskey and Coke, flicking her gaze to the clock to see how much longer she was going to be forced to pretend. Too long.
“Oh my goodness, you shouldn’t have done this!” Grams’s exclamation caught Larkin’s attention. Grams was holding a piece of paper and a full-color brochure on her lap. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and she held a wrinkled hand over her mouth.
“You deserve this, Mom,” Kaia’s mom told her with a rub of Grams’s shoulder.
“We know it’s what you’ve always wanted to do,” Kat added. The satisfied look on her face told Larkin the gift had been her idea. “You’ve put in so many hours studying your ancestry that we figured it was time you went to Scotland yourself and visited the places where your grandparents once lived.”
Grams was shaking her head, still overcome.
Uncle Matt cleared his throat. “All you need to do is choose your travel dates, and we’ll get everything else lined up, including first-class seats on British Airways for you and whoever you want to take with you. They’re the kind of seats that recline into a bed. You’ll love it.”
“I hear you should go in July when it’s warmer,” Larkin’s dad said as he got up to pour himself a drink. “Or August if you want to see the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo and you don’t mind the crowds.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t Scotland get midges in the summer?” Kaia’s mom asked, the bells on her Christmas sweater jingling. “I’ve heard they can drive a person crazy.”
“I don’t care when I go,” Grams said. “I’m thrilled to go at all.” She was looking around the room at all the faces of her family, and her own face reflected the love she felt. When she got to Larkin, however, something flickered in her eyes and her smile looked strained. “Perhaps I’ll wait to book the trip for a little while,” she told her children as she carefully set her gift on the end table beside her. “You know, so I can fully research where to go and what to see.”
Everyone started chiming in with their thoughts of what Grams should do in Scotland, but Larkin didn’t hear any of it. All she saw was the mask Grams had drawn over her face when she’d remembered Larkin and all she was going through right now. Larkin knew Grams was afraid to leave her alone. She was afraid Larkin would hurt herself if she wasn’t here to stop her.
Larkin stared at her feet and let her hair form a curtain around her face. Grams wasn’t wrong. Some days she was the only thing holding Larkin together. The last thing Larkin wanted was Grams postponing the trip she’d dreamed of her whole life—but she had to admit that she really didn’t want Grams to go. How selfish was that?
Her aunt collected the discarded wrapping paper to stuff into a garbage bag while the others refilled drinks and set pies and cookies out for dessert. Larkin took advantage of the commotion and snuck up the stairs to her room.
She needed a break from herself, a break from her problems and her mistakes and her weaknesses. She needed Emily Wilson’s world.
With her back against her headboard and her new computer on her lap, she opened Grams’s genealogy site account. She should figure out who Willie Smith had really been. Surely there weren’t that many people living in the Nebraska Territory with those initials at the time. She could figure out her real name, and she could contact any descendants, learn more about Willie and Emily and their time as Union soldiers. Maybe she should even offer to give them the handkerchief and ring.
Even knowing she was getting way ahead of herself—for she could be totally wrong about the handkerchief belonging to Willie—she proceeded with the search anyway. She hadn’t felt this excited about something in a long time. Going off the initials on the handkerchief, she started with the federal census in 1860 for all residents of Nebraska Territory with a last name beginning with the letter E.
After a confusing series of clicks and searches, she found over 164,500 records. Narrowing it down a bit, she revised the search parameters to the last name E and got 657 results. But when she looked closely at the results, she found that, somehow, all the letters of the alphabet were represented, and her only choice was to wade through each one looking for a name that might fit. When she got a few pages in, she realized the census year was not only 1860, but all years up to 1865. Somehow, she’d messed up the search. She felt out of her league.
A burst of laughter from downstairs reminded her of the party she was avoiding. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to soothe the anxiety stirring in her gut and turned again to the search on her screen.
Making sure to specify only the year 1860 and inputting the letter E in the last-name field, she hit Enter and waited. But she got zero records. Backing up, she did not specify an initial and hit submit again. This time, 49 records popped up.
But when she searched through them, none of the last names began with the letter E.
Frustrated, she searched for a genealogical society in Nebraska and, finding one, shot off an email on their general contact web form asking if there was someone she could hire to help with her research. Grams had offered to help, but she’d been busy with holiday preparations and Larkin didn’t want to put more on her plate.
Setting the computer aside, she drew Emily’s diary out of the nightstand drawer to read more. First, though, she took the handkerchief out of its hiding place in the cover and studied the em
broidered initials covered all these years ago with bloodstains.
Who was ODE? And, whose blood was this?
January 9, 1862: I had grown complacent, though that has now changed. Did I really think we would serve our entire enlistment in camp? It saddened me to take down our half-tents, roll my blankets, and pack my haversack with rations for three days. Although we three are still together, the impermanence of marching and temporary camps reminds me that this could change at any moment. We are at war, after all. That war has sent us to Fetterman, Virginia, where we have been ordered to wait until we receive further orders. No one knows how long we will be here. I am cold and wet, and I miss our cozy tent on Cheat Mountain.
February 19, 1862: Orders came in, finally. We are on the march to Louisville, Kentucky, to meet up with another regiment for a final march to Nashville, Tennessee. Forts Henry and Donelson have been taken by our side, which means the Federals now control major rivers in the Confederate state of Tennessee. As Nashville is that state’s capital as well as its commercial hub, it will be a boon for the Union when we also take it.
I find I do not mind marching. It fends off the cold and allows me to see areas of our great country I otherwise would not have had the chance to ever see. My feet have never hurt so badly in my life, not even when the mule stepped on my foot three summers ago. It helps to keep my feet, socks, and boots dry, but I can’t control the rain so it’s not always possible. I’ll never take shelter and a warm fire for granted again. Or a bath, for that matter.
Residents in the areas through which we pass are suffering. Army foraging efforts, on both sides, have stripped them of their farm animals and winter food stores. They stand beside the road and beg us for food as we pass. I have nothing to give them. Guards must march alongside the wagons, or else the civilians would attack and steal the Army provisions.