"They do," she agrees, pulling Pope's arm around her.

Deep down, Leah knows she should make them call her sergeant and cut the sentiment away lest she (and they) be accused of improper relationships. It's not her place to be friends with the men and women she commands when she so often walks them to their deaths. But a quieter part of her craves it, treasures it, holds it close to her heart. They are her boys, her girls, and she does what she can.

"I'll get you clothes," she continues, leading him back to her bedroom and the trunk she keeps of spare men's clothes. "And then I'll put you down on the camp bed next to him. Freya will keep watch."

She won't sleep, Leah knows. She'll make phone calls and run logistics. Get ahead of the problem.