The Lady and the Officer by Mary Ellis Page A

day the Union Army hesitated, General Lee moved deeper into Virginia into areas he was not only familiar with, but could depend on townsfolk to feed and reoutfit his troops.
    Not that his soldiers didn’t have anything to do. The battlefield had to be combed for cartridge boxes and abandoned weapons. Horses running loose after riders had been wounded or killed had to be corralled and reassigned. Quartermasters required time to forage and procure available food for man and beast. And the dead? What a loathsome task to bury ten thousand men in blood-soaked, unhallowed ground. Civilians arrived daily to pick through a grisly array of corpses in vain hopes of finding a son, husband, or brother. That horrific sight would linger in his mind until he moldered in his own grave.
    â€œBreakfast, sir?” Major Henry placed two plates on a low table. “Fried eggs and ham, biscuits and gravy, fresh berries.”
    â€œI’m not hungry, Major. More coffee will suffice.” James stared at the street where wounded prisoners moved through town under regimental guards.
    â€œIt might be awhile before we see food like this again, unless General Meade decides to remain here for the rest of summer. Perhaps he plans to wait till next spring to mount an offensive on the Rebs.” He refilled the general’s cup from the pot.
    â€œLeave the food, Major. That will be all.”
    â€œTarnation, sir. President Lincoln replaced George McClelland because he was too cautious. And now our new commander is dragging his boots through the dirt too.”
    James finished his cup of coffee, reluctant to chastise his aide for speaking frankly. Hadn’t he been thinking along the same lines? “Be that as it may, we must—”
    Without warning, a breathless courier stepped inside and snapped a salute. “General Downing, a dispatch from General Meade with his compliments, sir.”
    James grabbed the rolled parchment and scanned the contents. “I have been summoned to federal headquarters for a meeting of corps and division commanders. Major, alert the officers to ready the men to move out.”
    â€œYes, sir!” Major Henry sprinted out the door on the heels of the courier.
    James picked up the plate of food and devoured half. His body would need strength, but his resolve needed no fortification. The sooner they pursued the Confederate Army, the sooner this conflict would be over. If they thwarted the enemy at their next encounter, he would waste no time in returning to this lovely valley. He would seek out Madeline Howard in Cashtown. If she had moved elsewhere, he would follow. This would be his plan, his course of action to see him through whatever lay in his path.
    His meeting with the Commander of the Army of the Potomac held few surprises. They were to form ranks at first light and then head south—several corps on the Emmitsburg Road toward Turner’s Gap and two corps toward Frederick by way of Taneytown. According to cavalry reports, the enemy was moving toward Thurmont. For the remainder of the day, James packed his ledgers, maps, and personal effects and then conferred with his staff. Every officer under his command knew what to do to prepare thousands of men, wagons, artillery, and horseflesh to travel dozens of miles each day.
    However, he had one more errand before he slept for the final night in Gettysburg. He rode the familiar back trail through fields and woodlots toward Cashtown, arriving at the Bennetts’ home long after the preacherand his wife had retired for the evening. A sinking feeling filled his gut that he’d squandered his last chance to meet with Mrs. Howard.
    Reining his horse to a walk, James rode around the overgrown flower beds into the backyard. In the kitchen window burned a kerosene lamp, offering a glimmer of hope. He crept toward the light and peeped through the window like a mischievous schoolboy.
    Mrs. Howard sat close by reading a tattered book. With