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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