Surrender to the Fury

by Connie Mason

  “I’ve found a place for you to sleep, Mrs. Trevor. One of the orderlies offered his tent since he’ll be on duty tonight.”

  “I’m staying with Nick.”

  “You’re too exhausted to be of any help tonight.” Did the woman never take anyone’s advice? Jones wondered. No wonder she clashed wills with his captain constantly.

  “Nevertheless, I’m staying with Nick.”

  Jones sighed and ended the argument. She may not be tired enough to sleep, but he certainly was.

  Aimee sat the night beside Nick’s cot in a large tent containing several other wounded men. Only one orderly was on duty, and he welcomed her assistance. Not only was she on hand should Nick need her, but she answered more than one sick man who cried out in the night for water or just plain comfort. Nick regained consciousness just once during those long hours, and she was beside him instantly, offering water. When he opened his eyes and saw her, his eyes cleared for a brief moment.

  “Aimee? Where am I?”

  “In a hospital, Nick. You were wounded at Jonesboro.”

  His brow furrowed in painful concentration. “Scout. The last thing I recalled was Scout dragging me into the forest.”

  “So that’s how you got there. Sergeant Jones and I found you the next day.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you …” The effort was too great for his fragile condition. His thought was disrupted and he drifted back into the dark, fuzzy void of unconsciousness.

  Aimee hovered over him, wringing her hands. “Oh, Nick, please don’t die.”

  Suddenly he opened his eyes again and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”

  Chapter 12

  Nick clung to life with a tenacity that amazed even the doctor. Dr. Bellows felt strongly that Nick’s will to live was due entirely to the lovely blonde who showered him with tender care. Aimee rarely left Nick’s side. Sergeant Jones had returned to duty, leaving her virtually friendless in the Federal field hospital. But her compassion for both Yankee and Confederate soldiers being treated for wounds by Union doctors soon earned her their respect. To Nick she was his guardian angel, beside him during his brief lucid moments, comforting him when pain took his senses from him.

  Dr. Bellows couldn’t help but be impressed by the young widow’s obvious devotion to the Yank captain. By now he had learned most of Aimee’s history from Sergeant Jones before he had left. And though Jones’s knowledge was far from complete, it was enough for Bellows to know that no woman would devote herself so selflessly to a man unless she loved him. Thus when Aimee asked if it was possible to take Nick back to Tall Oaks, where she could care for him in the comfort of her own home, Bellows readily agreed.

  “I think he can travel if you take it easy, Mrs. Trevor,” Major Bellows said. “Captain Drummond is still grievously ill, but as you can see, we are overcrowded here and it’s unlikely to improve. Besides, I’m not certain he would survive if we ship him north at this time.”

  “What about Lieutenant Dill? Did Sergeant Jones tell you he’s at Tall Oaks right now recuperating from a wound?”

  “He told me. He said Tall Oaks isn’t all that far from the field hospital. Before long we’ll be moving to Atlanta to a more permanent facility. When we do, I’ll send someone after both Lieutenant Dill and Captain Drummond. Meanwhile, when I send my report to headquarters, I’ll mention that both men have been wounded and are recovering at Tall Oaks plantation.”

  “Thank you, Doctor; you won’t regret this,” Aimee said gratefully. “I left my son at Tall Oaks over a week ago, and I’m sure he’s growing anxious.”

  “Can you handle the wagon by yourself?”

  “I can manage,” Aimee assured him.

  “Then if Captain Drummond fares well today, you can leave tomorrow. I may be extending my authority in this, but I feel it’s in the captain’s best interest to allow him to go with you. Don’t prove me wrong, Mrs. Trevor. You did say Drummond is the father of your son, didn’t you?”

  Aimee flushed a dull red. “It’s a long story, but I didn’t lie. I have a five-year-old son fathered by Captain Drummond. He’ll come to no harm at my hands.”

  Bellows nodded, satisfied. “I’ll send along medicines necessary to his treatment. Do you have sufficient food at Tall Oaks?”

  Aimee hated to admit that food was scarce for fear the good doctor wouldn’t allow her to take Nick home with her, but she realized she couldn’t lie about something as important as nourishment for Nick. “There is little left at Tall Oaks but for the end of summer’s bounty from our small garden.”

  “I’ll send along what I can spare, but it won’t be much. But then, I doubt the captain will be with you long. As soon as a proper hospital is established in Atlanta, I’m certain headquarters will send someone after both officers.”

  Later that day when Nick awoke and looked at her with more clarity than he had in days, Aimee tried to explain what she intended to do.

  “I’m taking you to Tall Oaks, Nick. It’s quieter there and more conducive to your recovery. I need to get back to Brand, but I didn’t want to leave you here.”

  “Is—this all right with the doctor?” His voice was raspy from weakness, but he appeared to understand what she was saying.

  “I have his permission. You’re still very ill, but I’m certain I can care for you at Tall Oaks as well or better than the overworked orderlies can tend you here.”

  “I—trust you,” Nick said. Then he slid back into a stupor, his meager strength taxed by the brief conversation.

  Nick wasn’t entirely lucid when he was carefully loaded into the wagon early the next morning. Under Aimee’s supervision he was placed on a straw mat in the wagon bed and covered with blankets for the trip. A small amount of fresh meat and staples were packed around him before Aimee climbed onto the driver’s bench. Dr. Bellows handed her a packet of medicine and a letter of permission allowing her safe passage to Tall Oaks. Then she slapped the reins against the horse’s rump and left the stench and horror of the field hospital behind.

  Aimee kept the pace deliberately slow, ever aware that each bump in the rutted road added to Nick’s already considerable pain. The sun beat down relentlessly. Although it was September, the Georgia clime had not yet accepted the fact that summer was spent. She stopped frequently to offer Nick water and medicine They were only three miles from home when she crossed the path of a Federal patrol. She recognized the captain in charge immediately. It was the same man who had helped Nick rescue her from the Confederate deserters.

  “Mrs. Trevor, I hadn’t expected to meet you again so soon. Who do you have in the wagon bed this time?”

  “A friend of yours,” Aimee said. “Nick was seriously wounded at Jonesboro. I have permission to bring him back to Tall Oaks to recover.”

  Captain Birch’s heart lurched as he rode back to peer at the wounded man reclining in the wagon bed. “By God, it’s Nick Drummond! How serious is it? He doesn’t appear to be conscious.”

  “He has a long way to go, but Dr. Bellows seems to think Nick will recover. The doctor gave me written permission to take Nick to Tall Oaks until a permanent hospital could be established at Atlanta.” She handed him the pass.

  “Everything seems to be in order,” Birch said as he looked over the pass. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, Mrs. Trevor. I’m Bruce Birch. Nick and I have been friends for many years. I’m glad I was able to help him rescue you from those deserters a while back.”

  “No, Captain, I’m the one who’s grateful. If everything is in order, I’ll be on my way. I haven’t seen my son in over a week.”

  “Bruce, is that you?”

  Nick opened his eyes, recognizing his friend immediately.

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to dodge a bullet?” Birch joked. Nick looked so pale, it alarmed him.

  “It happens to the best of us,” Nick said, attempting a weak smile but failing.

  “You’re in good hands, Nick.” He glanced significantly at Aimee. “The
next time I see you, you’ll be back in the thick of things.”

  “Not anytime soon,” Nick allowed, “but I’d rather be at Tall Oaks than anyplace in the world.” The brief conversation had drained him utterly and he closed his eyes.

  “Best be on your way, Mrs. Trevor,” Birch said, eyeing Nick worriedly. “We’ll give you escort to Tall Oaks.”

  It was dusk when they drove beneath the stately oaks leading to the house. Brand flew out the door to meet them. Savannah was hard on his heels.

  “Mama! We were so worried about you.”

  “De chile’s right, honey, we were powerful worried. Did you find Captain Drummond?” She eyed the Yank patrol accompanying Aimee with misgiving. “What’s dem Yanks doin’ here?”

  “Nick is in back of the wagon,” Aimee said, sliding down from the driver’s bench and gathering Brand in her arms. “He was seriously wounded at Jonesboro, and I brought him back to Tall Oaks to recover. Captain Birch and his men gave me escort.”

  “Is he going to die, Mama?” Brand’s distress tore at Aimee’s heart.

  “Not if I can help it, darling.” She turned to Captain Birch. “Can your men carry Nick upstairs and put him to bed? I fear it’s beyond our capabilities.”

  “Of course.” Within minutes Nick was eased out of the wagon and carried upstairs to the room he had occupied previously.

  Hearing the commotion, Lieutenant Dill appeared in the doorway of his room, leaning heavily against the jamb to steady himself. Seeing Nick, he cried, “He’s alive!”

  Startled to find another wounded Union officer in residence, Captain Birch went immediately to Dill and helped him back into bed. “What are you doing here, Lieutenant?”

  “I was brought here after I fell in battle,” Dill said, easing his throbbing thigh into a more comfortable position. “I fell at Jonesboro, and when I saw the deplorable conditions at the field hospital, I realized it would be hours before I could be treated. The threat of gangrene frightened me, so I ordered Sergeant Jones to take me to Tall Oaks. Mrs. Trevor and her woman removed the bullet from my thigh, and so far there have been no complications.”

  “I’ll report the fact that both you and Captain Drummond are recovering from wounds at Tall Oaks,” Birch informed him. “We’re on our way to Atlanta now.”

  Birch spoke briefly with Aimee before he left. “I realize this is highly irregular, Mrs. Trevor, but both Nick and the Lieutenant seem satisfied with their treatment, so I’ll not complain.”

  “You and your men are welcome to camp on my property if you’d like,” Aimee offered.

  “We’re due back in Atlanta tonight, so I dare not linger. I’ll report the whereabouts of both officers to officials in Atlanta, and the fact that they are receiving adequate care.”

  “I believe Dr. Bellows mentioned that he intended to report to headquarters concerning Nick and Lieutenant Dill.”

  “Then I’ll be on my way.” He paused, then added, “Take good care of Nick. He’s a good friend; I’d hate to lose him.”

  “He’s more than a friend to me, Captain; we won’t lose him.”

  During the following days, Brand hovered at Nick’s bedside, unwilling to leave in case Nick died while he was absent Aimee tried to reassure the child that Nick was in no danger of dying, a fact she wasn’t herself certain of, but Brand stubbornly refused to leave Nick’s bedside.

  Nick rallied for brief intervals during this time, comforted to find both Aimee and Brand hovering nearby whenever he opened his eyes. His thoughts were still confused and disorganized, but he did know that Aimee couldn’t hate him and still tend him with such loving care. Nor would she have insisted on bringing him back to Tall Oaks to care for him instead of leaving him in the field hospital in danger of dying from infection or lack of care. But what truly amazed him was the fact that she had risked danger and even death to go to Jonesboro to find him. If only he could persuade her to admit Brand was his son.

  Aimee thought long and hard about telling Nick he was Brand’s father. Despite the fact that she had vowed to tell him the truth once he was well enough to hear it, she still hesitated. She couldn’t help but recall his words before he left. He already suspected that he had fathered Brand, and told her he expected to raise his son if his suspicions should prove correct. Where did that leave her?

  Nearly losing Nick had been the catalyst that jolted Aimee’s heart into admitting she loved him. Losing him forever had been so painful a thought, she had risked her life to go to Jonesboro to find him. And when she found him, after refusing to give up and return to Tall Oaks, she couldn’t leave him to die with the rest of the hopeless cases deemed too serious to treat. She knew she had taken a risk pulling a gun on the poor overworked doctor, but she had to make the doctor take her seriously.

  Fortunately Major Bellows was a compassionate man who didn’t insist she be thrown in prison for daring to play God with his patients. Convincing him to allow her to bring Nick back to Tall Oaks hadn’t been all that difficult once she pointed out that she could give him better care than the overworked orderlies in the field hospital. She had no idea how long she would be allowed to keep him at Tall Oaks, but even a few days could mean the difference between life and death.

  Several days after Aimee had brought Nick to Tall Oaks, he awoke and was completely lucid for the first time. He knew exactly where he was and had brief recollections of falling at Jonesboro, being carried to the field hospital, and being cared for by Aimee. He even recalled the trip to Tall Oaks in the back of the wagon and the appearance of Captain Bruce Birch.

  Brilliant sunlight poured through the window, and Nick blinked repeatedly against the intrusion. He glanced around the room, looking for Aimee, and saw Brand’s serious little face staring down at him. The expression was so like his own that his breath caught painfully in his throat. It suddenly came to Nick that this wasn’t the first time he had awakened to find Brand staring at him. He tried to smile but ended up grimacing in pain. Suddenly Brand turned and fled from the room. Within minutes he was back, tugging Aimee by the hand.

  “See, Mama,” he crowed delightedly. “I told you Captain Drummond was awake.”

  “How are you feeling, Nick?” There was so much Aimee wanted to say, but she could think of little beyond the fact that he appeared in complete control of his faculties for the first time since he’d been wounded.

  “Like I’ve been to hell and back.” His voice was thin and raspy, as if he hadn’t used it for a long time. “How long have I been here?”

  “Nearly a week. This is the first time you’ve given any indication that you were aware of your surroundings. Are you hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  Another good sign, Aimee thought jubilantly. “Savannah has some broth simmering on the stove. Doctor Bellows was good enough to send some provisions home with us.” She turned to Brand. “Tell Savannah to bring up the broth while I change the dressing on Nick’s wound.” He scooted off without complaint.

  “Aimee, I—I don’t know how to thank you. If not for you, I’d be dead by now.”

  He looked at her closely, then seeing the purple shadows beneath her eyes and the tired lines around her mouth, he realized he owed her more than just his life. “How did you get the doctor to treat me so fast? I know how field hospitals work. Those whose chances for survival are good are treated first; the hopeless cases are left until the last. I knew from the beginning my wound was serious.”

  Aimee’s face turned a dull red. “Lie still while I change your bandage.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “Aimee, I asked you a question. What did you do to get the doctor to treat me so swiftly?”

  “I did what I had to do, Nick. You would have died if you weren’t treated immediately. The bullet struck you in the chest and tore your lung. If Dr. Bellows hadn’t operated immediately, you wouldn’t have lived, so I—I held a gun on him until he agreed to treat you before any of the others. Then I stood inside the operating tent and watched while he
performed surgery.”

  “My God, you did that? I’m surprised he didn’t order you disarmed and thrown in jail.”

  “Dr. Bellows is a compassionate man, Nick. I think he realized that I was desperate.”

  Nick searched her face. “Were you, Aimee? Were you desperate?”

  Aimee dropped her eyes. “More than you know.”

  He smiled then, a real smile, not just a hollow motion. But Aimee saw that this conversation had cost him energy. His face was gray and drawn, and Aimee placed a finger against his lips, cautioning him to conserve his strength for eating. As if on cue, Savannah came into the room carrying a bowl of steaming broth. Brand was close on her heels. The child sat quietly and watched while Aimee changed the dressing on Nick’s chest, then spooned broth into his mouth. When Nick ate as much as he could hold, Aimee herded Brand from the room so Nick could rest.

  “No,” Nick protested, “let him stay. His presence comforts me.”

  “I’ll be quiet, Mama,” Brand promised as he climbed into the chair Aimee had vacated and settled back.

  But Nick wasn’t ready yet to go to sleep. He preferred to talk to Brand. The child’s youthful voice gave him the will he needed to get well. When the bullet had struck him down, he feared he’d never see Brand or Aimee again.

  “You don’t have to sit with me, Brand. It must be difficult for an active youngster like yourself to sit still for so long.”

  “I don’t mind, sir,” Brand insisted. “I’m used to it now. I sit here every day when Mama and Savannah are busy.”

  “You don’t need to call me ‘sir,’ Brand. For the time being just call me Nick. Later …” His sentence fell off. He couldn’t discuss “later” until he had spoken with Aimee and convinced her to tell him the truth about Brand. She was the only one who knew for sure who had fathered Brand.

  “Were you going to say something—Nick?”

  “It will have to wait, Brand. I think your mother is right, I am tired.”

  When Nick woke up again, Lieutenant Dill was occupying the chair where Brand had perched. Nick was more than a little startled to see him. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” he asked.