September 18th, 1862

The war had started April of last year. In the short amount of time between then and now, so much had changed. I went from dancing with dapper young men at balls to stitching the same men's wounds in an old church turned war hospital. My mother went from having a daughter and a son to just a daughter. My father went from being a successful lawyer in Boston to a brave general in the army. All in the span of a year. I don't say this to seem ungrateful, I promise you I am very grateful for all that I have especially when the war has left people with no clothes, shoes or even a house but I can't say that I don't sometimes long for what my world used to be. I've even found myself longing for the tight lacing of my corset! And that says a lot coming from me, the girl who would run all through her house in her bloomers to get away from the corset her maid had been holding. Not my best moment. But, there was just something in me saying that the life I once led, would never be led again. And even though, I loathed the corset and the nagging voice of my brother, I missed them in a way because if I could have those things back, I would be getting my old life back.

"Nurse, we need you over here." A fat man with a roachy voice shouted to me. I had gotten used to being called nurse, none of the doctor's would bother to learn my name. "And bring the chloroform!"

"Doctor, I'm afraid we have none left." I replied as I finished the last stitch on a young soldier's arm that had been cut in Antietam. Our field hospital was overflowing with casualties from the battle, leaving us with no chloroform left.

"Then this is about to hurt like the devil." The doctor cursed under his breath as I walked up behind him. It was then I saw what he was referring too. A soldier, who looked around 30 years old with 3 bullet wounds above his knee. I knew what this meant. Amputation.

I had helped with amputations before but it still shook me every time. The pain in their eyes. The sound of their screams. I gulped and took a deep breath, preparing myself. "What do you need me to do, doctor?"

"Hold him down."

I walked towards the soldier and placed my hands on his wounded leg, forcing it straight. I took another deep breath as a different doctor, this one skinner, started the saw into the leg. I winced and jerked my head towards the side. I couldn't bear to watch.

"Nurse! Come stitch this man up, I'll take your place." Another doctor who saw my uncomfortableness yelled from behind me. My face filled with relief. Thank god. I took my hands off as the nice doctor put his on. "Thank you."

He smiled in return. "Now, who did you want me to stitch?" I asked eager to get away from the situation. He nodded his head towards a man in a chair. "That man, there. With the neck wound." He replied.

My eyes focused in on the man he was talking about. I had seen him before. But, I couldn't quite place where. Wait, I recognize him. It's Robert Shaw. The eagerness I had felt just a few moments ago had vanished. Oh god.

2 years ago

The heel of my brown, leather, lace up's made a clinking sound when they met the marble staircase as I maneuvered around what felt like a million servants going up and down, every servant holding something different. One even had an elaborate assortment of desserts on a tin dish. The smell delighted my senses and my stomach rumbled - I could not wait any longer to eat.

I made my way to the kitchen despite knowing that if my mother saw me she would immediately send me back to my bedroom to prepare myself for tonight's ball. I took all the back hallways just to ensure that that scenario would not play out.

Upon arriving at the kitchen, my stomach rumbled even more. There was an ambiance of food spread around the counters and island, in all different shapes, colors, and sizes. It was enough to feed an army!

My mother spends all year getting ready for tonight. She must order decorations, candles, food, wine, etc. And as much as a hassle that it is, she loves it. I, on the other hand, do not. I would much rather be in a field, frocklicking and collecting flowers but alas I am stuck here, hiding from my mother just so I can eat. How depressing is that!

There is also an abundance of servants in the kitchen, all too busy to pay any attention to me - which I shall use to my advantage! I sneak a macaroon or two into my hand, biting into one of them before I leave. And as I sneakily made my way out of the kitchen I heard a voice.

Not a voice in my head, a real voice. I had never heard it before so it was a bit startling. "Yes, of course, Sir." it said. I stopped in my tracks, took another bite of my macaroon, and ducked behind a corner in the hallway, still on edge that my mother could be near. I followed the sound of the voice towards my father's study.

Outside the study, I saw a squarish figure, my father no doubt, but adjacent to him was a man with a smaller frame.

When the man spoke again, I realized that the voice had been his. It was sort of nasally and boyish but mature at the same time. He couldn't be more than a few years older than me. The only thing I wasn't sure of is who he was. I listened in but made sure I was unnoticeable by concealing myself behind a door. But when I leaned my ear into the door, it flew straight open, hauling me across the floor, in front of my father and the man, face first.

I cannot even begin to express how embarrassing this is. Imagine you are my father, talking about something or other with a respectable young man when out of nowhere your already unladylike daughter falls flat on her face in front of you with no warning.

My face flushed a bright red as I heard a pair of footsteps walk up to my helpless body. "Miss, are you alright?" the voice began. I turned my head to meet his eyes, I was prepared to say Yes, I'm fine, thank you. But when I was able to get my eyes on him I was stunned speechless. A handsome man was kneeled down next to me, with his hand extended for me to grab. I did so as a reflex, and he helped me up.

It felt like my hand was made for his as it fell perfectly into his palm, leaving a tingly feeling in my whole body while we locked eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by my father who was now rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I see you've met my daughter". Neither of us acknowledge him, still staring into each other's orbs, not letting our hands come apart. "She makes quite the first impression, doesn't she?" My father says in a humorous tone. The man finally lets go of my hand, bringing his arms behind his back. "Yes, she does, sir." he says, letting a light smile come upon his face. I just glance down awkwardly.

After a slight silence the man introduces himself, "Robert Shaw, at your service, Miss." Robert, so that was his name.

I clear my throat, "Leigh Dawson, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Dawson." he says. I could have sworn I sensed a bit of a flirtatious tone in his voice and I'm sure my father sensed it too for he interrupted mine and Robert's intense eye contact with his commanding voice, "Leigh darling, Robert and I were just discussing some business." Robert and I both moved our attention towards my father's towering body. I got the hint that he wanted me to leave and started to back away. "Yes, of course. I am truly sorry for disturbing you all, with my.." I paused before continuing, "entrance." My father let out a chuckle and Robert smiled with amusement. "I just have one question to ask before I take my leave."

"What is it, dear?" my father asks almost impatiently.

"Will Mr. Shaw be attending Mother's ball tonight?" I cannot believe I just said that.

"A ball?" Robert asks turning towards my father.

"Why, yes, my wife is hosting a ball tonight, you are more than welcome to come, Robert." My father replied promptly.

"I would be happy too." Robert answers, sneaking a glance in my direction. A large grin appears on my face, I couldn't control it, it happened on it's own. I nod at them and turn to walk away when Robert's voice stops me. "Miss Dawson!" I spin on my heel and turn back to them. I raise my eyebrows in confusion. "You.." he looks at the floor and points to a macaroon. "You dropped that, when you.. Fell." My face immediately flushed a rosy color. It must have fallen out of my hand when I toppled! Could this be any more embarrassing?

"Oh!" I spat out awkwardly, walking towards the damned macaroon and bending down to grab it. Before I stood back up, I held the macaroon up and made eye contact with Robert again. "Thank you. For not only the macaroon but for helping me up before."

"Of course. It's no problem really." He retorted, sensing how awkward this must be for me. I just gave a fake smile and walked away.

Once out of view of the glaring eyes of my father and the soft ones of Robert, I released my shoulders from the upright position they had been stuck in and leaned against one of the walls, throwing the macaroon on the ground and squishing it with my shoe. I allowed my face to fall into my hands. How could I have made such a fool of myself?