As Perry worked, Molly seemed to be studying her with great interest. "I may be past my prime, but little misses these old eyes." She seemed to be dissecting Perry's bone structure. Her accent bore a Scottish flare as she relaxed. "I've spent my life sizin' up people. Underneath them rags I'd say there be quality."

Perry was busy working and made no comment to the woman's chatter. She'd watched her brother close a cut wound many times. Pulling the flesh neatly together, she hoped it would heal with the least scar possible. Carefully tearing thin strips of cloth, Perry dipped each strip into the hot wax of a fat candle. Just before the wax cooled, she pulled Molly's cut together and lay the warm, waxy strip across her cheek. Perry smoothed each strip until the wax cooled, sticking the cloth to Molly's face and holding the cut together. Perry knew this method wouldn't hold long, but if it held until the bleeding stopped, Molly would only have a thin scar to blend among her wrinkles.

As she finished, Perry smiled, saying, "I think it will heal nicely, ma'am."

"I thank you very much." The old woman returned Perry's smile. "My name's Molly. What be yours?"

Perry nodded, welcoming her friendliness. "I'm Perry McLain."

"You're from the South," Molly stated.

Perry nodded again. She liked this old woman with her warm open smile and bright mischievous eyes. Perry was glad she could help her.

"I want to pay you for fixing me up." Molly began rummaging through her pockets.

"No, no." Perry waved her hands. "I'll take no pay for helping someone in pain."

Leaning back for a closer look at Perry, Molly pressed her lips together a moment before asking, "Could you do with a meal and maybe a nice warm bath?"

Perry's eyes brightened at the mention of a bath. She hadn't had a real bath since the night they'd spent at the plantation.

Molly smiled, obviously pleased she'd hit her mark. "I thought anyone as dirty as you would like the idea of a bath!

Wrapping her bloody scarf in a towel, she jumped off the stool. "I've got a house only three blocks away, Number Fourteen Willow Road. Nobody's there except me and my cat. You come home with Molly and I'll see you get a bath and some food. You're welcome to stay the night."

Anything would be better than spending the night on the hospital steps or in this kitchen, Perry thought as she ran toward the door. "Wait a minute, I'll be right back."

Perry moved silently down the winding corridor to a large desk. The orderly she'd spoken to earlier sat sleeping in a chair, his feet propped on the cluttered desk. She picked up a pen and paper in front of him and scribbled Molly's address.

She poked the orderly in the arm with the blunt end of the pen as sharply as she dared. He shrugged away and opened one eye. "Whatcha want, kid?" he asked.

"Give this to Captain Kirkland or Abram." Perry knew better than to move away and trust him. "Now, please."

"Well, what makes you think I have time to be a messenger boy?" the orderly hissed.

"If you don't, Abram will be very upset." Perry hoped her threat was believable.

The orderly slowly took the paper. He tapped it against his bottom lip as he debated. Finally making up his mind, he reluctantly stood. "All right, I'll take it to him." Then, as an afterthought, he glared back at her. "You wait right here. Can't go any farther than this desk, understand, boy?" The orderly was obviously trying to gain back some of his authority. He didn't like being given an order by her. However, Perry knew, Abram's size gave her order some merit.

She nodded and watched him shuffle off down the dimly lit hall. As the moments dragged by, she had second thoughts about going with Molly. After all, she knew nothing of the old woman or what her place would be like. Her home could look the same as the kitchen she'd just been in. Finally, the thought of relaxing in a hot bath outweighed any reservations.

The orderly returned carrying another message. He handed it to Perry without interest and resumed his seat. He propped his feet back up, dismissing her as he closed his eyes.

Perry walked back to the kitchen, slowly unfolding the note. Written in a neat hand was simply, "Have address. Will come for you tomorrow night. Hunter is resting but must see Lowe at dawn."

Perry smiled as she pulled open the kitchen door. "I'm ready, Molly." She couldn't miss the joy in the old woman's eyes as she straightened slightly and led the way out of the hospital.

They walked out together and moved down the street, now silent, with even the wind asleep. The night air hung in icy stillness around them. Perry thought the hospital steps would have been very uncomfortable by this time. She smiled and slowed her pace slightly to match the old woman's step. Molly seemed in high spirits to have company.

"I think you'll like my house." Molly linked her arm with Perry's. "But to start off with, I believe in being honest. You should know who and what I am before you walk with me. I may have been called a great many things, but dishonest ain't one of them. So to be straight with you, I'm a retired lady of the streets. Worked for over thirty years, I did. Two years ago, one of my oldest and best… ah"-she hesitated, choosing her words carefully-"men friends died and left me his big house. I think he probably drank all his money away. Ever'one knows a huge old house won't sell during the war. I had a little money saved away, so I retired and have been living there ever since."

Perry was careful to reveal no shock at Molly's occupation. She had to fight to keep the laughter from bubbling from her. How could a Southerner deep in Union country, who was wanted for treason, ever judge another's past life?

As they passed another block Perry noticed they were in an older part of town. Many of the homes had been left vacant or utilized as storage buildings. At one time this must have been an affluent neighborhood. Now trees and shrubs circled in junglelike thickness around boarded-up houses.

Molly continued talking, as if Perry were asking questions. "Henry-that was my… ah… man friend-had no family that cared about him. After I moved in, up shows these two nephews of his, claiming they should have the house. Well, I ran them off, no mistake about that. But lately things been happenin'. I know it's those two.

"Last month I found a dead cat on my steps. A week ago someone rode through my garden, trampling down half my plants. Tonight I went out to dump my mop water. This slimy scum jumped out of nowhere. Tried to slit my throat, he did." She chuckled. "Guess he didn't plan on my still carrying the mop. I hit him so hard between the legs, he's probably still holding his breath."

Perry laughed at Molly's free, open talk. Part of her found it shocking, but mostly she found the honesty refreshing.

Molly laughed with her. "Oh, you think that's funny, missy? Well, I hope your mom told you about where to hit a man you didn't want gettin' too close."

Perry froze in mid-step. "You know I'm a girl?" she whispered.

"Of course." Molly patted Perry's arm. "I may be old, but I'm no fool. I never would have lived long at what I did if I hadn't been able to tell what gender folks were." She chuckled with a snorting sound. "Now, honey, you don't have to explain nothin' to me, nothin' at all. I know all I need to know about you. You're a kind soul and welcome in my house for as long as you wanta stay. No questions asked."

Tears sparkled in Perry's eyes, not for herself but for Molly. She thought of how starved this old woman must be for simple kindness. "Thank you," Perry whispered.

"Wait till you taste me cookin'." Molly lifted her chin proudly. "I could have been a cook but couldn't see standing on my feet all day.'' A jolly, rolling laugh bubbled from her, the kind of laugh that makes all those it touches smile.

They walked another half block, thick with eerie shadows, before Molly turned and stepped over a broken-down fence gate. Perry followed, amazed at the size of the house they were moving toward. It was a large old brick home with ivy growing up all the sides. The house stood two stories, with a long wide porch running the length of its front. Once rich latticework trimmed all the windows, and massive oak doors guarded the front entrance, but now a wilderness of green embraced the aging brick.

Molly moved along a path at the side of the house. "I don't have no use for all these rooms. I live in the kitchen out back. It's big enough for me."

They walked through a small breezeway to the kitchen. As Molly opened the door Perry saw a welcoming fire. Molly motioned Perry in and followed, locking the door behind her.

The kitchen was huge and spotlessly clean. A bed stood in one corner, a wardrobe beside it. A long table divided the room in half. As Perry's eyes adjusted to the light she saw a rocker pulled close to the hearth and the table set for one. Molly must have very little company. A sewing basket and a few paintings were the room's only decorations. A huge black cat stretched and rose to greet them.

Molly removed her shawl and motioned Perry to be seated in the rocker. "You rest yourself and I'll draw the water for your bath. It's nice to have someone to talk with besides Herschel there." She tilted her head to indicate the cat. "He's not too friendly. Sometimes I wonder if he even likes me. He kind of come with the house."

Molly pulled a large tin tub from a corner and put water on to heat while Perry removed her hat and relaxed. Molly hummed as she worked, happy to have company. In a few minutes she returned to Perry with her sewing scissors. Perry silently held out her bandaged hand and allowed Molly to cut off the dirty dressing. The cut was healing nicely, and Perry doubted if she would need to bandage it again. Molly smiled at her without asking how the cut had happened. "While you bathe here by the fire I'll fix up a little snack."