Fire Over Atlanta by Gilbert L. Morris Read Free Book Online

as the door closed, Charlie turned to Lori. “He’s a fine-lookin’ fella, ain’t he, now?”
    “Yes, Drake’s very nice-looking.”
    “Is he married up with anybody?”
    Lori smiled slightly and shook her head. “No, he’s not.”
    “Is he spoken for?”
    “I don’t think he is.”
    Charlie leaned back in her chair, picked up a bit of ham, and chewed it thoughtfully. “He’s a big fella. I always did think big fellas were nice.”
    “Did you now?”
    “Yep, I sure did.”
    Lori appraised the girl and the awkward clothes that scarcely fit anywhere. “What about yourself, Charlie? Have you been to school?”
    “Pa taught me my letters. Mostly I been huntin’ and fishin’. I had two sisters. They’re both married up now, off in Louisiana.”
    “You’ll want to go stay with them, I suppose?”
    “No, don’t reckon I will.” Charlie picked up her glass of tea and sipped it with satisfaction. Then she murmured dreamily, “He sure is a fine-lookin’ fella, Mr. Drake. Ain’t he, now?”

5
Colonel Majors and His Nurse
    C ol. Nelson Majors looked up from where he sat in a padded chair and smiled. “My favorite nurse coming with my favorite breakfast.”
    Eileen Fremont was a small woman with red hair and green eyes and was wearing a blue-and-white apron over a dark blue dress. She had undertaken the care of the colonel’s three-year-old daughter and then, when the colonel was wounded, had gotten him out of the military hospital, where care was sometimes terrible, to care for him at home. She had grown very fond of her patient. They planned to marry soon.
    “I don’t know what your favorite breakfast is. Everything I bring, you gobble down like a bear.”
    “You shouldn’t be such a good cook. Now, sit down and talk to me while I eat.”
    “I have housework to do.”
    “I’m your patient. I’m more important than any housework.” He reached out and took Eileen’s wrist as she set down the tray on the table next to him. “After all, I’m a sick man. You need to humor me a little bit.”
    Eileen sat. She could not resist smiling back at the tall soldier. Nelson Majors was more than six feet, with very black hair and intense hazel eyes. He had a neat mustache and was close shaven.
    “Now then, let’s see what we have here,” he said as he looked at the tray. “It looks like eggs, grits, biscuits, and sawmill gravy. Is that all I get?” he asked mischievously.
    Eileen laughed aloud. “You’re going to be fat as a suckling pig if you keep on eating, Nelson.” She watched him pour coffee out of a china pot into a thick mug. “But I like to see a man enjoy his food. I’ve missed having someone to cook for.”
    The colonel looked up quickly, swallowed a bite of biscuit soaked with gravy, and said, “It does get lonesome sometimes, doesn’t it?”
    Eileen had lost her husband at Shiloh and shortly after that her two-year-old daughter. She smoothed her hair over the back of her head and nodded. “It’s good you have Tom and Jeff.”
    “I won’t have them long. They’ll get married and be gone. That’s what young men do.”
    “Fortunately you’ll still have Esther. She’s only three. She’s going to take a lot of raising.”
    “And I’m an old man to be raising a little girl,” he said thoughtfully. He took a bite of grits. “These are good, Eileen. You’re a fine cook.”
    “Anybody can cook breakfast. How can you mess up eggs and grits?” She leaned back in the chair and folded her hands. As Nelson continued to eat, she said, “Esther’s outside with Leah. I never saw a child who likes to dig in the dirt so much—except boys.”
    “I guess she takes after me,” he murmured. Then he added, “She looks like her mother, though. Same blonde hair and blue eyes.”
    He had lost his wife at the birth of this child. Eileen knew he was uncertain how he would do atraising a small daughter—and even more uncertain because of the battles that lay ahead.
    “I just don’t know