"Nonsense, Ma’am, your touch is as gentle as an angel."
"How?" She asked, trying to remove more of the dirty cloth, and dead and infected skin.
"It is war, Ma’am. You do not want to know."
"Colonel, if I did not want to know, I would not have asked."
"Last week we encountered a small band of renegade soldiers. I took a bayonet in the shoulder."
"A southern soldier did this to you?"
"No, Ma’am, the renegades were northern soldiers."
As gently as possible, Rebecca washed and cleaned the wound, stitching it very carefully with small sutures, then she sprinkled it with a dusting of healing powder before applying a clean bandage. "There, you are done. Now that was not too bad, was it?"
"Thank you, Ma’am. It feels better already."
"Your shirt needs mending. Take it off and I will wash and mend it for you."
"Ma’am?"
The blonde moved around in front of the Colonel and reached for the top button of his shirt. He moved from the chair so quickly he nearly knocked it over. As he took the time to keep it from clattering to the floor, Rebecca laid a hand on his arm.
"I know." She said quietly, giving the arm under her hand a gentle squeeze. "You do not have to be afraid."
The Colonel stopped, not quite believing what was being said.
"Now come on, Colonel. Let me have your shirt." The blonde moved slowly, closing the back door. "Your secret is safe with me."
"How did you know?"
She lifted her chin toward ‘‘his’ shirt. "I saw the bindings when I cleaned your wound."
His head dropped. "They……umm……they will either hang me or throw me in prison if you turn me in."
"I am not going to turn you in. I am going to wash and mend your shirt." Rebecca smiled. "You need the protection of the shirt so the bandage will not come loose. Besides, it is so warm out today you must be uncomfortable in your tunic. I will only take--"
"No, I mean why are you not going to report me?"
"I have done what I had to do to survive this war, Colonel, and I assume you have done the same. You are at least a real Colonel, are you not?"
Charlie laughed a little, starting to relax. "Yes Ma’am, I am. Colonel Charlie Redmond."
"Charlie is short for Charlotte right?"
He nodded again. "But my enlistment papers do not say that."
"I just bet they do not." The woman gestured at the Colonel’s shirt. "Take off that shirt. You are about my brother’s size; I will get you one of his."
Rebecca turned to make her way upstairs. Now she knew why the Colonel was being so kind. She moved into one of the old bedrooms. Most of the furniture was gone now, either sold to try and hold things together, or destroyed for firewood over the course of the last few years. She retrieved a shirt from a trunk, taking a moment to make sure it was in good repair and clean. Looking into the trunk she also fetched a pair of trousers.
The woman returned downstairs, but did not go to the kitchen. Instead, she went into the bathing room. She had been preparing a bath for herself when the Colonel had arrived. Rebecca placed the clothes and a towel on a bench next to the tub. She dipped her fingers in the water to make sure it was still warm enough for bathing and then returned to the doorway.
"Colonel, could you please come here? I am down the hall. Last door on the right."
She listened to the heavy footfalls on the wooden floorboards. She certainly walks like a man, clomping through the house in heavy boots. Rebecca turned when the steps stopped behind her. "I thought you might like a bath."
Charlie looked to the tub. The vision of a real bath and steaming water nearly did him in and he unconsciously licked his lips. His eyes traveled to his hostess. "That is very kind of you, Ma’am, but I could not impose."
"Colonel Redmond, I have taken the time to haul water and heat it up. The least you can do is show me the simple courtesy of using it."
Charlie could not hold the smile back any longer as he moved into the room. The thought of a hot bath with real soap and the luxury of being able to relax just a little was far too temping an offer to pass up. "Yes, Ma’am, it is the least I can do."
"And stop calling me Ma’am. I have a name, it is Rebecca, Rebecca Gaines."
"Rebecca? I like it."
"Well, that is good, because I do not intend to change it anytime soon, Colonel Redmond. Now get out of those dirty clothes and enjoy that water while it is still warm."
As the Colonel sat down to get ready for her bath, Rebecca pulled the shades to give her all the privacy she needed. Lighting a lamp, she placed it on a small stool next to the tub. She glanced up when she heard a groan. Moving across the room, she knelt in front of Charlie.
"You will rip those stitches. Let me."
"Thank you, Miss Rebecca."
As she removed Charlie’s boots, she grimaced at the sight of the officer’s feet. She was wearing torn foot coverings that revealed several large, infected blisters on her feet and ankles. "After your bath, I will tend to those too. Now enjoy that water. I will be back in a few minutes."
The Colonel watched as the young woman left the room. He sighed, and then began removing his clothes, a process that was also a very private ritual of transformation for Charlie. After everything, including the bindings he was forced to wear to make his masquerade convincing, had been removed, he settled down in the tub, moaning at the feeling of warm water covering his body. He knew he should be washing, but the urge to relax was far too great. He closed his eyes, sliding further into the water until his neck rested on the edge. As he relaxed in the tub, his mind wandered to his own sense of identity. He was not concerned that Rebecca had found him out because he knew he was Colonel Charlie Redmond. He had been living this lie for all of his adult life and to his conscious mind, there was no doubt. However, there was always that annoying little inner voice. The voice of the woman he had been so many years ago.
You are a fraud, Charles Redmond. A lie. You can never be the ‘‘man’ you pretend to be. You can never have the things you dream of. You will never find someone who will love you because of your sinful ways. The only comfort you will find in your pathetic life will be in the bed of whores who will never care for you.
Charlie shut out the voice, and relaxed again, sinking further into the warm water.
When Rebecca returned she found Charlie sound asleep. As she looked at the woman in the tub, she realized how ragged and tired she really looked. She had great sympathy for this woman. She could not imagine fighting and being at war. Certainly, she knew how to fire a rifle, but the thought of taking aim and killing another human being made her just a bit sick at her stomach and she wondered what circumstances had forced this woman into such a life. She sat her mending kit on the pile of clothes, and then moved to the tub where she knelt down and wet a cloth, making sure to lather it liberally. "Colonel Redmond?" She whispered gently to coax the sleeping officer awake.
"Hmm?"
"Wake up, Colonel."
Her eyes opened slowly. Rebecca could see many years of sadness in them. "I am sorry, Miss Rebecca. The water just feels so good." The tall woman curled in on herself, trying to be modest in this most revealing of circumstances.
"I am sure it does. Lean forward, let me wash your back."
"Umm I am not sure……"
Rebecca smiled at the shyness, but she bit her lip in order to keep from laughing. "Nonsense, Colonel. Regardless of your position, you are still a woman and I am sure that nothing I see will be a great surprise, unless the good Lord was making a different style when he made you. Besides, you need to keep that wound clean."
Charlie leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees that had been pulled to her chest in an attempt at some modesty. She was in a truly awkward position. She thought of herself as a man, who should preserve the modesty of this gentle woman. She was a woman, who hid her gender from the world for very practical reasons of survival. In this moment, she was neither man nor woman, and both. She drew a deep breath, for this was new territory and potentially very dangerous. Only the gentleness of the woman behind her made it tolerable.