A Secret Refuge [02] Sisters of the Confederacy by Lauraine Snelling

embarrass her. “I heard my br—er—husband mention . . .” She looked up to catch a twinkle in his eye. Had he caught her gaffe?
    The surgeon general leaned forward, hands clasped on the desk in front of him. “That is all right, Miss Highwood.” The emphasis on the Miss let her know that he knew.
    “When did you figure out my little charade?”
    “Not long after you took your brother home with you. Someone, I don’t remember who, had known him from before. When we bragged about our Missus Louisa Highwood, he set us straight.” His face sobered. “You know I never would have let an unmarried young woman work here like you did.”
    “I know that. Living that lie was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” Louisa took her turn to lean forward. “But I had to do something more than sew and knit. I just had to.”
    “I understand. But if the favor is to come back here to help us, I would have to say no.”
    “I realize that, but that’s not it. Zachary mentioned morphine, and while I tried to get some at the apothecary, he said none was available. If one of my men needs morphine, I knew to come straight here for it.”
    The general shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I’d give my right arm for it myself. What little bit comes in is used on the frontlines. We resort to whiskey here—get the men as drunk as possible before surgery. There’s no morphine to be had south of the Mason and Dixon Line.”
    “I see.”
    “I wish I could help you. I wish I could help my men.” He shook his head. “Short of hijacking a Northern train, I fear . . .” He stared into her eyes. “Now, don’t you go getting any wild-headed ideas, young lady.”
    Louisa stared down at her lap. Calm down, heart. We must think this through before going off half-cocked . She raised her gaze back to the man behind the desk, using her eyelashes to their best advantage. Appearing young and innocent was not difficult. “No, sir, but I do have one more question.”
    “Yes?”
    “Ah . . .” She tried to cut off the dream. “Have you heard anything more about Lieutenant Lessling? Was his body found in that train wreck?”
    The general sighed and shook his head. “No, but then many were beyond identifying.”
    “And you are sure he was on that train?” Dare I even hope?
    “No, I cannot say for absolute truth he was on that train. But he never reached home. His sister wrote and asked about him, and we’ve not found him in any of our hospitals.”
    “Could he be a prisoner of war?” She could scarcely get the words out, the thought was so terrible. But better that than dead. At least that way there was a chance of seeing him again someday.
    The general came around the desk to take her hand. “My dear Miss Louisa, I cannot hold out false hope for you. Gilbert was a fine young man and an outstanding soldier. I’m sure that if he were alive, we would hear. Somehow, we would have heard.”
    Louisa turned from the compassion in his gaze to stare out the window. Sunbeams no longer danced. Instead, deepening gray filled the window. Was that thunder she heard?
    “I . . . I better go before I get soaked. Thank you for your time.”
    “You’re welcome. Greet your brother for me.” He walked her to the door.
    She stopped before leaving. “But there is morphine available in the North, correct?”
    “I imagine. For those who have the money. Anything can be bought if one has the money and the resources.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “But don’t you go getting any farfetched ideas, young lady. You are too valuable for the Southern cause right where you are, helping our men to heal.”
    “Yes, sir. Good day.” She fetched a half curtsey and, after flashing him a smile, added, “You come on over for dinner one day and visit with your men. It would do them a world of good.”
    “Thank you. I’ll do that.”
    She kept her feet to the ladylike walk her aunt would be so proud of and made her way down the