Tim circled the table, assessing the battlements and curving strips of blue paper that evidently represented the wanderings of a river. “Is this the Cumberland where it runs through Nashville? Looks like the fortifications on Overton’s Hill.” It was a wild guess but Tim was rewarded with a gleeful shout from the old man.
“It is! And over here’s Shy’s Hill.” A gnarled finger pointed. “The second Union attack begins here, on Hood’s right flank. It fails till Major General Smith’s men take Shy’s Hill and show ’em how it’s done.”
“Where’s Nathan Bedford Forrest?”
“South. In Spring Hill,” Stuart said. “I’m a tad short of cavalry horses or you could tell by lookin’.”
“I’m sure I could,” Tim said. “You’ve done a marvelous job setting this up.”
“Thanks, son. It’s a pleasure to talk to somebody who knows his history like you do. Most kids these days couldn’t care less.”
Tim’s gaze darted to Dawn’s face in time to see her hide a snicker behind her hand. He didn’t really mind hearing the elderly gentleman refer to him as a kid at thirty-three. Given their age differences, he supposed Stuart thought of anyone under sixty as still wet behind the ears.
“You should eat now, Mr. Meyers,” Dawn said. “Your supper’s getting cold.”
“Eat? How can I eat when Nashville’s under siege?” He circled the table and grabbed Tim’s forearm. “Come on. You can be Nathan Bedford Forrest, since you mentioned him. You bring your troops north from Franklin and lead a surprise attack on Thomas’s rear!”
Tim laughed. “Sorry. I’m afraid I have another assignment tonight, sir.”
The old man’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, right. You’re on mess duty. I forgot.”
“Maybe another time,” Tim told him gently. “I’d like to hear more. The history of this area has always fascinated me. My great-great-grandfather, Jeremiah Hamilton, settled here in the nineteen twenties.”
Stuart’s eyes squinted behind his glasses. “Hamilton, you say? Thought I recognized that name when you came in. Well, well, well. I knew old Jeremiah’s boy, Fred. We joined the Marines when we was barely old enough to shave. Fine man, rest his soul. You come from good stock, boy.”
Tim smiled. “Thank you, sir.” He was edging toward the door where Dawn waited. “Looks like I’d better go before everybody else’s food gets cold.”
He hesitated when Stuart hobbled closer, extended his right hand and said, “I’m proud you came. It’s been a pleasure, son.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Tim replied sincerely, shaking hands.
“By Wednesday night I can have all the fortifications slicked up and we can have a real set-to.”
Tim glanced at Dawn. Her jaw looked a little slack and her blue eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them before. He made a snap decision. “If it happens that I’m not needed to deliver meals then, I’ll still drop by again some time. I promise.”
Stuart’s shoulders slumped. He sounded down in the dumps when he said, “You do that, son. You do that.”
Dawn walked as far as the car before she whirled and confronted Tim. “You shouldn’t have promised him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll be terribly disappointed when you don’t show up.”
“Who says I won’t show up?”
“I do.” Her hands fisted on her hips. “I know your work schedule, remember? You hardly have time to breathe, let alone visit lonely old men and spend hours rehashing the Civil War.”
“Then I’ll make time,” Tim said firmly. “I don’t know where you got such a low opinion of me but it’s wrong. I never make a promise I don’t intend to keep. I said I’d see Stuart Meyers again and I will.”
Dawn just stared. “You will? You really will?”
“Yes. I will.” He circled the car and opened the driver’s door. “Now, are you coming? Or are you going to stand there arguing and let the rest of this food get colder than it already is?”
Several other stops were uneventful and the deliveries went quickly. Ada Smith was next to the last on the evening circuit.
As Tim parked in front of her run-down antebellum home, Dawn filled him in. “Miss Ada is a dear. She absolutely dotes on her grandchildren, so be sure to mention how attractive they are when she shows you their photos.”
“How do you know she will?”
Dawn laughed lightly. “Oh, she will. She always does. And if any of them have been to see her recently, we’ll be treated to a minute-by-minute replay of their visit.”
“Okay.” Tim opened the trunk, took out another dinner and passed it to Dawn. He swept his arm in an arc and gave a slight bow. “After you, ma’am.”
She was shaking her head and chuckling. That pleased him. He was still trying to get over the shock of finding out she didn’t see him as the kind of man who kept his word. He was determined to show her his true character, though he wasn’t sure how. Granted, he could be rather ruthless in business if the situation called for it, but in his private life he wasn’t so bad, was he? Introspection didn’t show any major flaws that he was aware of. Therefore, he planned to charm the socks off the little old lady he was about to meet and prove to Dawn what a great guy he really was.
Why? The surprising question gave him pause. Why, indeed? He was Dawn’s boss, not her date. Why should he care about her personal opinion of him as long as she continued to do her job well? Dropping back a few paces he frowned with introspection as he watched her make her way onto the sagging wooden porch.
The front door flew open before Dawn could knock. A pixieish old woman with a wide grin and a head full of tight white curls reached for Dawn’s arm and practically dragged her inside.
“There you are, girl! I was gettin’ worried.”
“Sorry we’re a little late, Miss Ada. We got delayed when Stuart Meyers started talking about The War. You know how that goes.”
Ada chortled. “That, I do. My Sidney was a jewel, Lord bless him, but when he got to talkin’ about huntin’ or fishin’ he was as single-minded as one of his old hound dogs trailin’ a possum.” Blue eyes twinkling, she giggled behind her hand like a youngster. “’Cept, as I recall, Sid didn’t bay at the moon near as much as them dogs did.”
Dawn laughed with her, then turned back to the doorway where Tim waited politely. “I have someone with me tonight, Miss Ada. I’d like you to meet Tim Ham—”
“Land sakes!” the old woman shouted, cutting off the introduction. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringin’ a friend? Hoo-whee, he’s a big ’un.” She lowered her voice to continue but it was still loud enough to have been heard all the way to the curb. “Mighty good-looking, too. Reminds me of a fella I dated years ago. That boy sure could kiss.”
“Miss Ada!” Dawn’s voice was raised, too.
“Oh, posh. Don’t be such a prude, girl.”
“Mr. Hamilton and I are not romantically involved,” Dawn insisted. “I had car trouble and he was kind enough to drive me on my rounds tonight.”
Ada eyed Tim. “That right?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her pale brows arched. “Well, well. And I suppose you’re gonna tell me you ain’t noticed what a pretty little thing our Dawn is. There’s men’d fight to marry her for that long blond hair, alone.”
Cheeks reddening, Tim looked as though