Saturday evening, the Rifles are back

Pye thought it could've been misunderstood. He hadn't meant to pry at all. What was Cotton and Maggie's business was theirs alone! Unless either wished to say, he was just another rifleman after all and it was his business as long as they needed or wanted help, and no more. "No sir, is fully a'right. I was jus'.. wonderin' if she didn't know they be left alone, n' if she needed be told that." He nodded, and it was clear that it was indeed as simple as that.

"If she's a'right with it n' them too, then it's all fine!" He smiled. "She come for Cotton's then soon?" Or maybe he shouldn't have inquired on it either. Atleast his rifle was now clean and spotless.

As if in answer to his question, Jenny returned with another bowl, empty, but there were by now several people waiting to be served from the same pot. As she stood and waited, she noticed Pye looking at her.

Pye smiled at Jenny, only thinking she was doing a good job helping Cotton and Maggie. A commendable thing. She did come and she was probably having one for Cotton now and then she'd have to get one for her too. All that waiting in line, just because she had more mouths to feed than her own.

"Jacklin'." He looked at the man, who was about ready to serve their own feed too. "Could we 'ave some fer t' lass there too? Jus' if she come back , she don't wait again?" Food was a precious commodity that no person ought to be robbed of. And he was not even thinking she could have all of that sorted out already!

"Thank you," she said quietly, feeling a bit confused in her weariness. "But it's not for me - it's for Gabriel Cotton."

Well he was of the same mess, couldn't go without getting his food and if he wasn't around to have it, he needn't be waiting all day for it either! He'd not thought of that of course, but then one learnt from making mistakes, not from doing everything proper and right.

"That'un for him then." He smiled. "n' that'un fer you." Seeing she didn't bring another bowl with her he'd taken his own. Helping a rifleman any of them others would do it too, he was sure. "If that's a'right with you. Be quicker that way."

She was exhausted and anxious and in no mood to flirt with a young man or ingratiate herself with a stranger in exchange for food. She had hoped to find Newbury, primarily to talk about their plans but also because she knew he would give her something to eat. But then she reflected that she had never seen this fellow before, and perhaps he did not know she was not on the strength. It was perhaps a bit deceitful; normally men shared their supper with her when they specifically wanted her company. But if he thought she was on the strength, there would be no need to repay him with idle chatter and pretty laughter.

"Are you sure? That's your bowl, isn't it? I'm afraid I can't stay..."

"Is allright. There's plenty 'nuff." The lad looked certain of that. He'd not be one to share his food easy, and not even to flirt, should he have ever thought of it. "You'er helpin' Cotton' n' Maggie aren't ye? So can't keep runnin' back n' forth all mad like." He glanced at the captain, and then looked back at her.

"Jus' when ye'er done, can you please bring it back. Don't need t' be clean no. I'll do it no problem." He looked genuienly naive but friendly.

She looked doubtfully at the captain, who smiled and walked over to investigate the pitching of his tent. She turned back to the rifleman and gave him a tired but practiced smile. "Yes. Thank you, rifleman...?"

"Pye, Miss. Zachary Pye." He smiled bright and friendly.

He shook his head then and added. "N' no thanks needed. Is thanks you're helpin' them." There were simple things that were enough for the boy, didn't need money or be payed with company. He did hope to get his bowl back, and as his tummy made a little of a rumble, quieter luckily, he still stuck by his decision.

"Pye. Thank you. I'm Jenny Ross." She gave him a small smile while Cavender filled the bowls for her. "I haven't seen you before. I thought I knew all the British in the 60th - and most of the German lads too."

"No trouble. Nice ter meet you, Miss Ross." He gave her a small nod which was as much of 'polite' that he'd known.

"'m jus' recently transferred to the 60th. Couldn't know me from 'ere no. Jus' a little after the rifles presentations. That's how long I'm here!" The lad added and smiled in response, proud of it. That's why the girl didn't know him, not atleast from the rifles.

"Been in t' 33rd firs' then .. well, I asked n' then I was granted it!" He nodded to the captain with respect.

The smile dropped from her face. "The 33rd?"

Pye noticed the change and felt unsure whether he'd somehow offended her by saying it. "Yes. " He said though, for he'd worn that uniform and he'd served with them up till now. He couldn't deny it and wouldn't.

"t' 33rd, you've surely heard of em, no?" Couldn't have been different, with her being with the army, he supposed.

"Oh, I have," she answered coldly. But the poor lad was not to blame for things that his former sergeant might do. She smiled again, though the coldness remained in her eyes. "They kept guard over us today, which is why we're so late in catching up with you. They wouldn't let the baggage follow the rest of the army until later in the day."

He thought the subject was best left alone. There was something that bothered the girl. Must've been about the 33rd too, else she wouldn't have gone so cold when he mentioned them. Well he knew what the reputation was, of soldiers, of officers and anything in between. Could've been that too, then.

"Did you have any trouble? With t' Frogs or so?" He hadn't known the 33rd were going to stay back. Meant there was no fighting for them, nothing to be snatched from a Frog then, either.

"No." She took the bowls from Cavender with a smile and then saw Newbury, at last, over by Vickery's tent where the captain was just leaving. "Thanks for the bowl, Pye. I'll bring it back later." And off she went without waiting for a reply.

Pye was reminded again of the reaction that the riflemen had when he'd first said which regiment he was from and thinking now on Jenny Ross's. Well, he was here now. A rifleman, Captain Vickery's, 60th's Rifleman. He raised his hand to wave to the girl, nodding to her about coming back with the bowl and then turned back. The tent seemed to be the source of action that evening, or the place where most have gone. Jenny, captain - why that one was obvious that when he'd go anywhere it would be the tent! - Maggie and Cotton were there, and he'd caught sight of Newbury too.

"Save me some, please." He spoke to Jacklin. His plan for the day was simple and it was just what he did first, that he still had to decide. (I'm at a loss where the captain is! x.x)

Vickery came back over from speaking with Cotton and Maggie, and smiled at Pye before sitting down again. "Are you all right there, lad?" he asked, noticing the younger man's expression.

The youth jumped having been lost in his thoughts so deeply that he hadn't noticed either the smile or even the captain's arrival. He looked fearful and anxious for that second before a smile spread across his face, uncertain only as he hadn't known if he had missed something that the captain had said beforehand.

"Yes, sir. " He hurried to say and his tummy rumbled in response, which had the rifleman grin. "Will be much better soon, I reckon, but I'm.. full well. Are they..,.." His voice trailed off. He didn't want to disturb neither Cotton nor Maggie, but only wished to know if they were alright and being fed now, what with Jenny having taken food over for them.

"They're fine, thank you for asking. But how are you doing?" He would have to tell Cotton to pass the word around that Pye was not to be treated any differently from any other Rifleman, even though he'd come from the 33rd. He had a clean slate here, after all.

It was the way the lad looked at him when he was distracted that made Vickery worry. He'd never known anyone to look fearful of him in quite that way, and wondered if that was the reason he'd been talking to Pye, and had come back here after speaking to Cotton, instead of visiting any of the other fires around which his men were gathered.

"I'm good, sir." He felt as surprised as he looked but also grateful. Officers didn't usually ask for the well being of their soldiers. Not so in the rifles, he'd been told and proved many times over. There was a closer bond between the two. There was the asking, the training together and the talking and living. He'd never imagined sitting the way he was now. Well, he tried to imagine an occasion but his mind came blank with suggestions though they probably could be and were some.

He smiled. He was a little afraid that this dream would end and he'd wake up, back in his old - though as good as new looking - red coat, listening to the shouts while he slipped back in line. One of the many, following each order to the last exclamation mark. Doing nothing more but what he was ordered, not setting his foot out of place, because those who did, had hell to pay for it.

But no, if he did his best now he could keep dreaming, couldn't he? The scratch on his face, which now mirrored the one on the other side stung a little as he dabbed a cloth to it, a healthy reminder that being a rifleman wasn't an easy job neither. It demanded a lot from a man, it was hardly a walk in the park, or a stroll with a lovely lady.

Ah, and here he was thinking again!

"Sir. " He began, searching for words, anxious not to cause the captain a reason for any ill feeling. " . .. they'er good men.. t' 33rd." He just wanted to say this, didn't know exactly why , but he felt as if it had to be said else it would have gnawed at his mind.

"I'm sure they are," Vickery replied, wondering what Pye had been thinking about that had brought that faraway look to his face. It was the officers and Sergeants - or some of them, anyway, that were the ones to watch out for.

"Sir.. I know I don't.. it's the nerve I dare say.. since, you've .." He took a deep breath and decided there to collect his thoughts and form a sentence in his mind before he used his mouth for it. "..It's your.. authority to ask.. anything if there's anything yer need know, sir. "Well, he would've been better doing some additional thinking. It still didn't come out right. Atleast he'd said it slow and even tried to work out each word and have none of them gulped or muffled like he usually spoke.

Vickery frowned a little. "That is as may be, but I won't poke and pry. You are entitled to your privacy as much as anybody else it, after all. I won't eat you if you don't want to answer my questions. There is a huge difference between this, and having someone standing in front of me on a charge, after all."

"Yes, sir." He smiled and looked amused at what the captain had said. Wouldn't eat him. That was good. "M' not very much on t' bone neither sir. Wouldn't taste good or tender." He flushed hoping it didn't sound to be too much of the familiarity which his words could also have been interpreted as.