“My pleasure, ma’am,” Philip replied as he took her gloved hand.
“Boston, Doctor? Surely you’re not a Yankee.” She gave him a forced smile, lips closed to hide missing teeth.
“No, ma’am. I’m from Arkansas originally. I was only in Boston to study.”
“When Felicia finishes her gauntlet of introductions, do come and tell me about Boston. I’ve heard the most ghastly stories about the place.”
“Of course.”
A young man in his early twenties had appeared in the doorway behind Morton and the Reverend. A strapping redhead, a glass of lemonade in his hand, he cocked his head and studied Doc with blue-eyed curiosity.
Felicia led Doc to the young man saying, “Dr. Philip Hancock, may I present Nathanial Nelson, soon to be of the Fourth Tennessee Infantry.”
Doc took the young man’s hand. “Congratulations.”
“Good to meet you, Dr. Hancock.” A lopsided smile bent the young man’s lips. “I’m trying to talk James into joining me.”
“And not having much success,” James Morton called from the doorway as he entered the salon. “Hello, sir.” The young man with chestnut hair and green eyes stepped forward to firmly shake Doc’s hand. Doc had met him several times at Morton’s surgery. “Glad Father could talk you into coming.”
“James, I declare! Don’t know why you’d want to fool around with steamboats when you could march off to glory with me,” Nathaniel interjected airily. “Doctor, surely you can dissuade my dear friend James from his obsession for piloting a steamboat. That’s a trade rather below the calling of a true gentleman, whereas the military offers a young man of character ample opportunity to rise in the ranks.”
“That’s right,” Reverend Nelson agreed as he made an expansive gesture with his half-full glass. “My old friend Leonidas Polk is in charge of Tennessee’s defense now. Still an Episcopal bishop, he’s made general in charge of Department No. Two.”
“That’s western Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana, and northern Mississippi and Alabama,” Dr. Morton noted. “Quite an enterprise.”
“I just want a chance to do my duty,” Nathanial interjected. “After what happened at Manassas last week, the war will be over by the time I even get my uniform.”
“And well it may,” Mrs. Nelson noted to her son’s dismay. “A smart young man, like James, here, dedicates himself to improving his lot. He’s not just intent on piloting a steamboat, he wants to own one. And then another and so on. With the exclusion of the Yankee boats on our rivers, he’s thinking of the endless opportunities to profit with the growth of our new nation. When has the army ever made a man rich?”
“You smile, Dr. Hancock?” Felicia Morton asked.
“I was just thinking how similar families are. Mrs. Nelson’s words might have passed my own mother’s lips. I’ve heard them often enough over the years.”
“And do you have family in the military, Doctor?” Felicia asked.
“I am not sure, ma’am, having been out of touch with family and friends since leaving Boston. My suspicion, however, is that my father has not been able to deny the call to arms. Nor have I heard from my brother Butler. He was studying history and the classics at an academy in Pennsylvania.”
“I take it they are loyal to Arkansas and the Confederacy?”
Doc shrugged. “I assume so.”
Announced by a rustling of skirts, a young woman swept into the room.
Doc turned. The first thing he noticed were the most dazzling green eyes. Wearing a crinoline dress—cut low to expose smooth shoulders and a creamy chest—her auburn hair piled high, the young woman stopped short. Skirts swaying, she met Doc’s gaze and smiled. Her face reddened as if in excitement and accented the fine lines of her cheeks and jaw. Thin waisted, her full bust barely disguised, she was nearly as tall as Doc. She took a breath and laced her hands before her.
“Excuse me,” she said demurely. “I was detained in the kitchen.”
Felicia Morton stepped forward, taking the young woman’s hand. “The last of our guests has arrived, my dear. Dr. Hancock, please allow me to present my daughter, Miss Ann Marie Morton. Ann Marie, this is Dr. Philip Hancock, of whom your father has spoken so highly.”
“My pleasure.” Philip bowed, loath to break her gaze. Her green eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight.
“The pleasure is mine, Doctor.” She gave him a perfect curtsy. “Father calls your abilities as a surgeon…” Her brow lined faintly, as though perplexed. “Brilliant? Isn’t that the word you use, Father?”
“Your memory doesn’t desert you, my dear,” Morton told her dryly, a knowing smile on his lips.
Of course he’d known that Morton had a daughter. He just hadn’t anticipated that she’d be a creature of such poise and beauty. Or with those dancing and sparkling eyes. Nor could he put name to the curious excitement that leaped within him when her eyes met his.
He inhaled, catching her faint scent of lilac.
Unsettled, he made himself retreat and take a place beside Reverend Nelson as Ann Marie crossed the room to sit beside Mrs. Nelson. Yes, she was beautiful, but some quality she possessed drew his gaze like a magnet.
Don’t stare at her like an idiot, Philip.
James, having not missed Doc’s reaction, and unabashed in his amusement, asked, “Dr. Hancock, are you staying in Memphis for long?”
Ann Marie’s green gaze fixed on his, accompanied by a ravishing smile. The whole world might have faded.
“Pardon me?” Doc gratefully took the opportunity to redirect his thoughts.
“Are you staying in Memphis for long?” James repeated with teasing emphasis.
“Oh … well, that remains to be seen.” Doc struggled to focus on James. “My goal originally was to return to northwestern Arkansas and open my own surgery. I hadn’t counted on the disruption to travel caused by either secession or the war. River travel has been considerably more expensive than I anticipated. I have the deepest gratitude to your father for allowing me to employ my skills in his surgery. As a result of his kindness I am able to keep body and soul together.”
“You’ve been
