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M arco remained quiet during our journey across the Confederate-controlled land of Gettysburg. My Spidey sense told me he was gaining control of his faculties. As Sam walked in front, leading the horse, I capitalized on the opportunity to develop a game plan with Gertie.

“Do you recall what the history books say the general is doing for dinner this evening?”

“He’s monitoring the battle of Culp’s Hill,” Gertie rolled it over in her mind. “I believe he was suffering from a bout of the shats and he stayed close to his headquarters tonight. Longstreet was a bit pissed at him because he wanted to lead a defensive battle and General Lee refused.”

“Where is Longstreet?” I asked.

“Longstreet stayed at his camp. A few other generals met with Lee and members of his staff, that’s recorded anyway. Information got lost, burned, and stolen. I’m not entirely sure who was where, but one thing’s for sure, at three a.m. General Longstreet receives an order to move Pickett’s division forward.”

“Pickett’s charge. It’s tomorrow afternoon, right?”

“Yes,” Gertie said. She twisted her hands together. “I don’t know if I can issue the order for Pickett’s charge. So many lives were lost.”

“When the time comes, I know you’ll do your best to save history.”

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“It’s what we do.”

We walked in silence for a while. Cannons hissed in the distance; the earth moaned under our feet.

“After we secure you and Marco, I’m taking Sam to find Caiyan and the seer.”

“Shouldn’t Sam stay and keep the curious away from the general?” Gertie nodded her head toward Marco.

“He’s familiar with the area; I’ll need him to help me stay away from the line of fire.”

“Marco’s taller, more muscular, and younger than General Lee, you know.”

“Hopefully, he’ll be lying in a bed, and with the beard, dim lighting, and the blanket over his face, they won’t realize the general’s about thirty years younger.”

“Let’s hope so, for all our sakes.”

“If they discover you, have Marco summon me, then find an escape.”

“You’re not wearing your key,” Gertie tapped my bare neck.”

“I hid it so Caiyan can’t make me. If I don’t come back, I’ll meet you at the Black Horse Tavern before midnight tomorrow. And for God’s sake, don’t let Marco use his key and take the first flight out of here.”

“He talks a good game, but he would never leave us stranded here.”

Sam slowed the horse as we arrived at a camp south of the Chambersburg Pike.

“Isn’t General Lee’s headquarters at the house owned by the Thompson widow?” I asked Sam upon entering the base camp.

“His personal tent is there,” he indicated a wall tent in the center of the camp under a cluster of strapping oaks. “The general has his runners at the house. Not so good for a commander to have his whereabouts known to all. He takes his meals at the widow’s house.”

The area around the tent allocated for General Lee’s headquarters was heavily guarded. An officer’s tent, taller than those issued to a lower rank, it had four walls and a canopy across the front. In the light from lanterns hung in the trees, the tent cast a dark shadow.

“Tie up the horse over there, in that dark area to the left of the tent, and move him inside quickly,” I told Sam.

Soldiers saluted as we passed. Marco, keeping his head down, returned them. As we neared the tent, Gertie’s back stiffened. On the opposite side, a group of generals clustered around a wooden door they used as a makeshift table. They were playing cards, and one nudged the other as Sam brought the horse to a halt.

A short, stocky man with ear to jowl sideburns rose from his seat on a decayed stump and headed toward us. His sword clanged against the gun at his side.

“General Lee, I would like a word.”

I moved toward him, blocked his path to the fake general.

“Back away,” I ordered, holding my hands up to stop his progression. “General Lee has acquired a contagious affliction.”

The man froze. Worry lines creased his brow.

I stalled the lieutenant colonel long enough for Sam and Gertie to help Marco off the horse and into the tent.

The men gathered around me.

“Sir, is it bad, sir?” a scout to my right asked me.

“General Lee will be under the weather for twenty-four hours.” I figured if that’s all the time I had, then that’s all the general needed, too.

“What does he have?” A lean, balding general with a bandage across his forehead demanded.

Realizing my error, my eyes cut toward the tent. Gertie was inside. We hadn’t discussed the ailment from which the general suffered. I couldn’t remember which one was fatal. If the general happened to reappear, I wasn’t sure which disease he would recover from rapidly. I couldn’t choose dysentery because practically all the men suffered from it, and a bad case of diarrhea wouldn’t keep them at bay. I needed something contagious, but not so dreadful the subordinates would question the general’s decision-making ability.

“What has the general ill?” A general with kind eyes and a nicely groomed beard asked.

I stepped back and spread my arms wide.

“The general suffers from—germs.”

“Germs? Never heard of it.” The lieutenant colonel balked at my improvised illness.

“Very contagious. He’ll need complete isolation.” Gertie appeared next to me.

“What are his symptoms?” the balding general asked me.

“Diarrhea, vomiting and…enlargement of the genitalia. Extremely contagious.”

The general winced.

“Dr. Seuss has offered to care for General Lee as he’s been exposed to the germs,” Gertie told the skeptical group.

“Yes, yes. I’ve been exposed to it and lived to see another day, therefore I have an immunity. Only affects the men. My vivandière will assist me in the care of the general.”

“A vivandière?” one of the general’s huffed. “Why? Where is Dr. Guild? He’s the best in the entire corps.”

Another general puffed his chest out. “I beg your pardon, Doc McGuire’d do a better job tendin’ the commander.”

As the men began to rabble-rouse, I stepped between them.

“I assure you, generals, I am the only doctor present who understands the exposure to germs.” I paused for effect. “General Lee won’t be pleased y’all are questioning his orders.”

The thin man’s back straightened. “Please give the general my regards, and I wish him a most speedy recovery. I’ll wait for his command.”

“The general will issue orders via his aide.” I indicated Sam, who stepped from the tent.

“I’m supposed to take orders from a junior aide-de-camp?” The squat general bellowed, a cigar clamped between his teeth.

“Doctor, you’re needed in the uhm, tent,” Sam said.

“Private Raney has volunteered to expose himself to germs to support this war and General Lee.”

The men’s eyes dropped to the level of Sam’s crotch. I fought the smile twisting at my lips. Occasionally, a man’s concern for his privates outweighed his valor.

“The general has sent orders for General Ewell to attack at first light,” Sam said, his eyes glued on a general who had remained sitting at the table.

Upon hearing his name, Ewell rose bent in a painful stoop. Using crutches, he limped toward us. He stopped in front of Sam and scowled.

“These are my orders?”

Sam nodded. “And I’m to take an order to General Longstreet, attack the enemy at its center.”

The men stood in silence. No one addressing the order. Gertie had done her job by telling Sam to take the order. I was proud of her.

An amused soldier with an English accent sidled up to the discussion. “I’ve heard of this germs. Can be deadly if not left for the poor chap to recover. I suggest you mind the good doctor and plan your moves accordingly.”

General Ewell saluted and limped off toward a group of horses corralled toward the rear of the camp.

I gave the Englishman a nod and followed Sam toward the tent. Before entering, I spoke to the soldiers stationed on either side of the tent flap.

“No one enters this tent. The general has a highly contagious illness that could wipe out an entire corps in days.”

The soldiers took a step back from the tent, and I saluted them.

Once inside, I took note of the provisions. A small desk and chair, possibly confiscated from some poor banker or lawyer in town, sat against the wall to the right. The desk held a large lantern, maps, a bible, and a pair of spectacles.

Marco laid on a makeshift bed built from timbers. An upgrade from the cots provided to the colonels, and a world away from the cold, wet ground the lower ranks slept on in the open fields. It was the reason many generals headquartered in the homes they commandeered from the locals.

“What are you up to?” Marco asked me.

“You’re feeling better.” I sat on the travel trunk next to the bed.

“I’m not hallucinating any longer if that’s what you mean. My leg still hurts like a mother, thanks to the asshole you worship like a Greek god.”

My eyes fell, but not in time for Marco to miss the shine in them, and the anguish on my face.

“Jen?” He placed a hand on my arm.

“Caiyan was shot in the back by a Rebel soldier,” Gertie explained, handing Marco a cup of water she poured from a canteen.

A glint of concern showed on Marco’s face. He stared down into his cup. “Is he—”

“No,” I said. “He was still alive when I summoned Ace, but the gunshot could have been fatal.

“You summoned Ace?”

“I didn’t know it was possible. He doesn’t arrive until the morning, so he came and took Caiyan back to base.”

“What about me? I could get an infection in this god forsaken place. To hell with the Mafusos, I’m summoning my vessel and getting the hell out of here.” He placed his fingers on his key.

I covered his hand with mine.

“Marco, I need you to be General Lee until I can figure out why my vessel won’t return, and until I can find the seer and Mortas.”

His blue eyes pierced mine with an icy glare, but he lowered his hand.

“For fuck’s sake. How long do you think Lee’s staff is going to let me sit in here before they come inside?”

“I told them you have a contagious illness and need a day of rest to recover.”

“What, Malaria? Yellow fever? Pneumonia? What have I got that’s not carried by half the army? Your lie won’t keep the generals at bay.” Marco’s voice escalated to how do I get myself into these situations level.

“You have germs,” I explained.

“Germs?”

“Pasteur’s germ theory hasn’t been accepted yet. That was quick thinking, Jen. I mean Jeb.” Gertie winked at me and moved to stand next to Marco. She held a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

Marco rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his mouth. “Great, I need a drink.”

“It’s not for you to drink.” Gertie smiled down at him. “This is medicinal whiskey. Now, take your pants off!”

While Gertie changed Marco’s bandages, I spoke with Sam about the best place to find Sergeant McGregor.

“If’n he’s at General Longstreet’s camp. I heard Major General Pickett is restin’ his men at his bivouac near the Cashtown road. I’d say the Sargent we met in the woods is a scout sent ahead to retrieve the general’s orders. Don’t make no sense him being so far ahead of his regiment.”

I hoped it made perfect sense.

I sent Sam to secure horses for our reconnaissance trip. While he was away, I informed Marco and Gertie of my plans to infiltrate Longstreet’s camp, each giving me their take on how completely insane I am.

I snuck out the back of the tent with my childhood mantra playing in my head. I’m spunky and I’m fierce and I’m smarter than most men, bad guys run and hide ’cuz here comes SuperJen.

* * *

We rode south keeping Seminary Ridge to our left. Confederate patrols stopped us along the way demanding to know our destination. Sam’s story of escorting the doctor to Longstreet’s camp by General Lee’s command was never doubted and papers never demanded. The soldiers knew Sam and they trusted him.

He swatted at a mosquito. “Damn gallnippers! They’re fierce in these woods.”

I mentally thanked Jake for the bug repellent he made me lather on before our journey.

“How did you come about being General Lee’s aide?” I asked him.

“My uncle served under him in the war against Mexico. He asked as a favor to select me from my regiment, the Seventh Tennessee, and serve as his aid.” Sam’s voice shifted and I caught a touch of anger. “I’m sure my ma had made the request.”

“I see. Can’t blame her, kept you away from the front lines of the battles.”

“I’m a good shot. Better than most of my friends serving in the Seventh.” Sam was obviously upset by his lack of active participation in the fight.

“You’d rather be getting shot at?”

“I’d rather be serving my country alongside my friends.” His words held the resentment of a boy wanting to do more than deliver messages. A man breaking free of a boy’s shell by proving his worth to his peers.

“The war can’t survive without communication, and I’m sure your friends recognize the danger you encounter taking messages to the generals.”

“My friends have tales of battles, and wounds to show for their bravery.”

I wondered how many of his “friends” would be able to share their tales after tomorrow. I took another tactic and changed the subject.

“What will you do after the war?”

“I don’t know, probably go back to my family’s farm in Tennessee, if there’s anything left of it. My ma wrote she’s gone south to stay with her sister in Texas because the Federals have confiscated our homestead. The livestock and the finery were taken.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I said, but actually I was thrilled. If he ended up in Texas, I hadn’t screwed up his life, yet.

“I’m sure we’ll get it back. General Lee will win this battle here and we’ll march down the Baltimore Pike toward Washington. Lincoln’ll mess his britches when he hears the rebel yell coming for him.”

Jeez. I was grateful the last patrol stopped us, and Sam knocked his reverence for the Rebels down a few notches.

Arriving at the base camp was like entering a small town. Hundreds of tents were erected west of Seminary Ridge.

“We need to find a place to rest, maybe find your soldier in the morning. He’ll be difficult to locate this time of night.”

We passed wagons and wooden structures thrown up to provide the things a soldier might need on the road. There was a photographer, post office, women doing wash. Food tents, clothing tents, and places to worship. A small army had traveled to support the larger one, and like fans at a football game, this was the tailgating party.

A black man came to secure the horses, and it dawned on me that the soldiers had also brought their servants with them to the battlefield. Was that who Boon was? A slave to one of the soldiers? Was the seer a slave? My mind whirled. How would I find her in the hundreds of encampments around Gettysburg?

I dismounted, and Sam handed me a lantern.

“Wait here,” he said, and moved toward a group of men.

Men gathered in circles around campfires discussing the fighting from the day. I didn’t have time to waste resting, but the effects of the time travel were wearing thin on me.

Sam spoke with one of the privates lingering around a nearby campfire. He and the man looked over at me. The man scratched his beard and then pointed down an aisle of tents. Sam shook hands with the man and walked toward me.

“This way.” Sam motioned for me to follow him. “General Longstreet has a tent that’a way. His aid told me he’s not there, gone to speak with his staff. Should return in a few hours.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. I still had a few hours before I had to meet with Longstreet and issue the message of Pickett’s move.

“There’s a tent not in use anymore we can use for the night,” Sam said.

I was afraid to ask why the accommodations were available. As we turned down a row of neatly aligned tents, I saw a figure move across the path. The swagger I recognized. The man stopped at a tent and spoke with a soldier.

As we passed, I held my lantern up as if lighting my path and caught a full glimpse of Brodie’s face. He glanced at me but didn’t break from his conversation with the soldier shaking his head in response to Brodie’s questions.

He was searching for Caiyan, and I needed to find him first. I considered it a positive sign. If Brodie was here, then Caiyan had to be close.

Sam found the tent, and I explained I was going to use the privy, wherever that was. I had no clue.

Sam eyed me skeptically and stretched out on a bedroll.

I made haste going from campfire to campfire in search of Caiyan, avoiding Brodie, and making small talk with the soldiers.

When the soldiers asked why I wasn’t in the hospital tending to their friends, I simply stated I had been assigned to tend the wounded from tomorrow’s battle and ordered to rest.

I wandered back to the tent and met Sam on the way.

“I thought you might like some food. There were rations in the tent, and I found the chuck wagon, but it don’t have much.”

He was holding two cups of hot coffee. I took the cup from him and the warm liquid calmed my empty stomach. It was a far cry from Starbucks, but it would do.

He smiled wide. “I found your soldier.”

I almost spat coffee on him. “What? Where?”

“He’s over yonder by our tent. I found him at the supply wagon. He needed a place to rest, seems he couldn’t find his regiment or his horse.”

I brushed off Sam’s curious stare and made a beeline for our tent. Caiyan sat leaning against a supply pack outside the small tent, legs stretched out in front of him, drinking coffee.

“We meet again, soldier,” I said as I joined him.

“Good to see you unharmed, doc,” Caiyan said. His slow, sexy drawl made my lady parts tingle.

Sam distributed hardtack and jerky to us. I gobbled down the jerky. It was the best I’d ever tasted, and I was a tried and true Slim Jim fan.

The men dipped their hardtack into the coffee. I copied them, but the small brick of a biscuit broke apart like a cake of chalk when I took a bite. Bits stuck to my mustache. Being a nineteenth century man was hard.

“Doc, you havin’ a time with the tack?” Sam chortled.

When I made a sour face at him, he threw back his head and gave a deep, hearty laugh. A contagious guffaw that made everyone chuckle.

Moments later a young soldier stopped to whump Sam on the back.

“Thought that was you. I’d recognize that laugh anywhere. Haven’t seen you since Murfreesboro.”

Sam stood and clasped arms with the young man. He had a few years on Sam, but barely enough to reach the age of enlistment.

“I received a reassignment after my furlough. How’s James?”

The man shook his mop of dark curls. “Lost him in the fight the first night.”

Sam put a strong hand on the man’s shoulder, and the man clasped Sam’s forearm. “He was a good friend.”

“Sure to speak.” The men held a moment of silence for their lost friend.

I glanced over at Caiyan. He stared down into the cup of coffee resting on his lap.

Sam turned toward us, moving into the light of our camp. The man’s eyes widened when he saw our ranks and slapped to a salute.

“At ease private,” Caiyan said. I frowned at him because I outranked him. I should have given the command.

“This here’s Dr. Seuss, I’m travelin’ with him to meet up with General Longstreet, and Sergeant McGregor has been separated from his company.” Sam patted the man on the back. “My good friend, Will. He’s from my hometown in Tennessee.”

We stood and the soldier greeted us.

“Have you word about the battle tomorrow?” The young soldier asked me. “I’ve heard tale we’re going to take them on their right flank.”

“No,” I said to him, but Sam looked my way.

Caiyan didn’t miss the concerned look Sam sent me, and I fidgeted as I averted my eyes from Caiyan.

“Is the regiment bivouacked here?” Sam asked the soldier.

Will eyed Caiyan and me, then pulled Sam aside.

“No, we’re a few miles south. Since tonight might be my last night,” the soldier blushed, “I visited the tent of the Soiled Doves.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t?”

I glanced over at Caiyan and his head was lowered, but I caught the corner of a smile.

“Yep. If’n it’s God’s will I’m gonna be dead tomorrow, I wanted to lay with a woman just once. She was beautiful, smelled like oranges. You should go, Sam.”

Sam’s face paled under the moonlight.

“It don’t cost too much, and I feel better about the battle tomorrow. She said I did real good for my first time, and now that I was an experienced man, I’d be stronger on the battlefield.”

“What about your sweetheart back home?” Sam asked Will.

“Miss Maggie, that’s the Madam’s name, I asked her if’n I was being unfaithful in God’s eyes. She told me war was different. Ida Belle, that’s my girl back home, shouldn’t have to know the hardships a man endures during wartime. We’re to be married when I get my next leave.”

“Married, landsakes Will! I’m proud for you.” Sam clapped his friend on the back.

Will beamed the crooked smile of man in love who had recently been laid. Even though it wasn’t with the same woman. Technicalities. Will showed Sam the heart adorned to his jacket.

“I had a rip in my sleeve and her darkie fixed it for me. Did a real good job too. Even sewed on a red heart for luck tomorrow.”

Caiyan’s head shot up. “Where can I find this Soiled Dove’s tent?” he asked Will.

“That’s the spirit,” the soldier grinned wide, showing a few missing teeth. “Yonder them wagons.” He pointed toward a group of supply wagons.

He shook hands with each of us and wished Sam the best, then left us whistling a happy tune.

Caiyan set his tin cup down and pulled a flask from his jacket, unscrewing the cap.

“Whatta ya say we go check out the ladies?” He took a pull from the flask, offered it to Sam.

Sam hesitated. “I don’t drink much.”

He angled it my direction.

I grabbed the flask and took a mouthful of the moonshine, let it burn down the back of my throat. A calm followed, and I was grateful. I lowered the flask, and Caiyan watched me with cool, curious eyes. I handed the flask to him, and he turned his attention toward Sam.

“You ever felt the smooth skin of a woman’s breast?” He asked Sam.

Even in the darkness I could see Sam’s face turn pink.

“What about you, Doc. What kind of woman do you like?”

I coughed into my hand. “Not sure.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “You never been with a woman neither, Doc?”

I can honestly say, “Never.”

“Men have needs. Let’s go get you two some experience.” Caiyan started to walk in the direction Will had indicated.

“I don’t need any experience,” I said to him.

“You got a woman back home?” Caiyan asked.

“No.”

“What about you?” he asked Sam. Sam shook his head.

“Well then, Will had a point. What if you get shot dead without ever feeling a woman underneath you?”

“I’d go to heaven?” I said more than asked.

Caiyan’s sense of urgency had me guessing this was not about the women, and I should follow his lead and see where it took me. I hoped directly to the seer.

“Crimany!” He tugged on the sleeve of my jacket, and I followed him with Sam slinking alongside me.