Page 19 of Christmas at Carnton

“I can assure you, ma’am, the men are equally ready to return home. Victorious, of course.”

Her smile dimmed by a fraction. “Of course, Captain. That is what we all hope. But returning is what is foremost in the hearts and minds of the women and children. Now please . . . if you’ll follow me.”

She led him through a door on the left and into a front parlor. He waited for her to take a seat then did likewise.

“Would you care for a cup of tea, Captain?”

“Yes, please.” It had been so long since Jake had been asked that question, since he’d been in such a civilized setting, that the delicate pastel-colored porcelain cup and saucer felt awkward in his grip. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The tea was hot and strong, the way he liked it, and smelled faintly of cloves and cinnamon, tastes he’d all but forgotten. Which made the savoring even more enjoyable.

“Colonel McGavock is presently working the farm, Captain. But he’s eager to meet you as well. So I hope you’ll join us for supper this evening, as you’re welcome to do every evening you’re here at Carnton. That will give us the opportunity to introduce you to our children, Hattie, our eldest, and Winder, her younger brother.”

“I’d like that very much. Thank you, Mrs. McGavock.”

He listened, nodding on occasion as she shared her expectations and goals for the auction and his duties accordingly. Which basically boiled down to what Colonel Stratton had told him—anything Mrs. Colonel John McGavock requested he do.

“In the midst of my appreciation for your presence here, Captain, I am very much aware that you, too, are a wounded soldier, and that you need your rest. So while you’re here at Carnton, I’ll depend upon you to set your limits and then communicate them to me. I have been known to ask a great deal of others.” A smile hinted at the corners of her mouth. “Though, granted, nothing beyond what I expect of myself.”

Jake nodded, completely believing her admission.

“Speaking of,” she continued, “you’re certain you’re able to assist Mrs. Prescott in her . . . undertaking? She told me you very graciously agreed to help her.”

“Oh yes, ma’am. I’m happy to help with the nativity.”

“Very good then. The funds raised by our auction will be used to benefit the soldiers directly, a portion of which will be designated specifically for those wounded. A man who has fought for his country and who is left challenged in that regard deserves all the assistance we can offer him.”

“That’s most kind of you, Mrs. McGavock.”

“Very good then.” She rose. “If you’re finished with your tea, allow me to see you to the kitchen. And Tempy, Carnton’s head cook, will show you where you’ll be staying while you’re here. Did your commander tell you, by chance?”

He set his empty cup and saucer on the silver tray and followed her across the hallway and into what appeared to be an office. “No, ma’am, he didn’t. But I’m assuming in the barn, which will be fine.”

“Oh gracious no, Captain. We can do much better than that.” She paused. “We have a cabin for you. Granted, it’s one of the slaves’ quarters. But it’s by far the nicest. It’s the brick cabin just beyond the kitchen and smokehouse where the house slaves resided. Those will be your private quarters, Captain, and you’re to advise Tempy should you have need of anything.”

Jake nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I apologize that we’re unable to host you in our home. But my own dear mother will be visiting soon as well as a cousin. So I fear the guest room is in high demand.”

“The cabin will be more than fine, ma’am. Thank you. By chance, has Carnton had its hog killing yet?”

“No, we haven’t. In fact, I believe the Colonel is planning to hold that in the next couple of weeks.”

“I’ve butchered plenty of hogs back on the farm in South Carolina. Every winter since I was a boy. I’d be happy to help, if you’d like.”

Her eyes brightened. “I’m sure the Colonel would be happy to have your assistance, Captain. As with other farms, all of our slaves but one, Tempy, the head cook I’ve mentioned, have been sent south. So every hand is a welcome addition to the work.” She continued on toward a doorway that led to two sets of stairs. One leading up to the second story and the other leading down. “I meant to inquire earlier, Captain . . . Have you taken your noonday meal yet?”

“No, ma’am, I haven’t.”

“Then we’ll remedy that straightaway. Tempy is the best cook in all of Tennessee. She’s been with us for years now. And I’m certain she’ll have something you’ll—”

“I must have my kitchen worktables scrubbed clean!” A strident female voice carried toward them from around the corner. “And we must have a table dedicated solely for working pastry dough. That is imperative. Every experienced chef knows this. This one here will do.” A rapping noise followed. “Once it’s properly cleaned, of course. Get to it immediately. And no other food is to touch it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came a quiet voice.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Yes, ma’am . . . Chef Boudreaux.”