by Ingis, Gail
Cornelia took off her bonnet and smoothed her hair. They stepped through the doors of the huge hospital. She took a deep breath. “I love the smell of medicine and ether.”
“Offensive to me,” Leila whispered.
“You’ll get used to it.” With long-legged strides, Cornelia walked to a man in a blood-stained white coat leaning over a patient. She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for Dr. Russell. I believe he’s the surgeon here.”
He glanced up; a creviced face drooped with fatigue and despair. He wiped his hands on his coat, adding more bloodstains. “I’m Dr. McBride. I’m afraid Dr. Russell is in New York. What can I do for you, madam?”
“Do you know if he got the letter from Dr. Smith saying I wanted to volunteer as a nurse?”
Life surfaced in his brown eyes, and he smiled, smoothing his gray walrus mustache and smearing blood on it. “Bless you, lass. God knows we could use the extra hands. I don’t know if he got the letter, though.” He took her arm and guided her to a small desk in one corner of the massive hall. He released her, leaving a bloodied handprint on her arm, and shuffled through a mountain of papers. “I suppose the letter could be here. Been so damn busy I don’t have time to fart, let alone read mail.”
Cornelia smiled at Leila’s shocked expression and leaned closer. “Get used to all sorts of language. Not much in the way of social graces in hospitals.” She pushed Leila into the only chair around. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine. I’m just not used to so much blood.”
Cornelia stared across the expanse of pallets lined up on the floor between iron bedsteads. The stench of vomit, feces, and ether permeated the hospital. Groans and cries of pain echoed off the high ceilings. Women, working as nurses, moved between them, ministering to injured soldiers’ needs.
Despite the din, a cry, like an echo in a cave, was heard. A familiar name resounded in the hospital corridor. “Cornelia!” Leila glanced at Cornelia, and their eyes locked. “Oh my God, Cornelia!” Cornelia’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.
Dr. McBride looked up. “That poor man has been calling that girl’s name since he arrived a week ago. Poor sod lost his left leg and one eye. Looks like his left arm might go as well. He managed to live through the Bull Run battle and found his way back despite being half blind and injured. The poor bastard took a cannonball that damaged his leg so badly I had to amputate by the time they got him here.” He peered at Cornelia over wire-rimmed spectacles splattered with blood. “You all right, young lady? You look mighty pale. Hope all this blood and gore isn’t too much for you. I could really use those extra hands.”
Cornelia walked toward the man writhing on a pallet and shouting her name. She walked straight ahead, as if in a trance.
Chapter 16
Her footsteps pounded on the floor as she approached the pallet. She stopped and stared down at an emaciated man covered in a filthy blanket. She sank to her knees, skirt billowing around her. “Michael.” She reached out and touched his gaunt, bearded face. “Oh, my God, you’re alive.” Tears fell. She ran her fingers over the bandage covering his right eye. He opened his left eye and stared at her. He ran a tongue over cracked, bloodied lips. “Thirsty.”
“I’ll fetch water.”
Leila put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay with him. I’ll get water.”
Cornelia nodded. One of his arms was set in splints. She took his free hand and brought it up to her cheek and kissed each torn finger. “I cannot imagine the hell you went through to get here. But together we’ll get through this.”
Leila returned and handed her a mug of water. “Here you are,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” Cornelia slipped her arm behind Michael’s shoulders and lifted him. He was so thin and frail. He gulped the water and sighed, leaning his head against her chest. Cornelia released him and proceeded to strip the blanket off him. “Leila, please fetch a basin of warm water. I want to wash him.”
Leila gasped. “Perhaps you should let Dr. McBride do that.”
Cornelia sat back on her haunches and scowled up at her friend’s shocked face. “I told you, there is no room in war for delicate sensibilities.” She surged to her feet and stalked off in search of a basin and water.
Leila grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Stay with him. I’ll find what you need.”
Nodding, Cornelia hung her head. “Leila, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You know that Michael had been the love of my life since childhood. The day I got the news he was dead was the day my heart shriveled and died.”
Leila hugged her. “I understand. I deserved being snapped at for being a prude.”
She returned moments later with a sponge and basin of water. “I’ll ask Dr. McBride what I can do to help.”
Cornelia set about undressing Michael and worked methodically, gently sponging his wasted body. Covering his naked body with the filthy blanket, she rose, clutching his torn and stained breeches and shirt. She strode to McBride. “Are there clean clothes and blankets?”
He stared at her myopically. “Ye gads, gal, we don’t even have enough to go around, let alone spare.”
Mouth set in a hard line, Cornelia marched off and found Leila. “Please find a supply store. I’ll give you money to buy blankets and nightshirts for Michael.”
Leila waved her away. “I don’t need your money. It’s the least I can do.” She laughed. “I’m too squeamish to be much help anyway. I won’t be long.” She hurried off.
McBride stared at a cartload of blankets, sheets, and nightshirts. “You are more than resourceful and generous, Mrs. Dempsey. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. How did you do it?”
“I smiled and fluttered my lashes at a nice man in the supply store.” Leila grinned. “I’m happy to contribute in any way I can. Tell me what medicines and other supplies you need, and I’ll find them. Write a list, and I’ll see what I can do.”
McBride hastily scribbled on a scrap of paper. “Thank you.”
Leila studied the list on the crumpled paper. “It’s a meager list, Doctor.”
“Don’t set my hopes too high. Only leads to disappointment,” he said, and hurried off to a new wave of injured soldiers arriving on stretchers.
Leila smiled and walked rapidly to their hired cart and climbed up beside the driver. Bowling along potholed streets, she gazed at Negros mingling with the crowd. She noticed a white woman walking ahead of a Negress, who carried the woman’s child. She wondered about their freedom. Leila shook her head sadly. Change would clearly be slow. The cart halted, and she jumped down at the boarding house where she and Cornelia rented rooms. Leila smiled at the taciturn driver. “I shouldn’t be long.”
Running to her room, she swapped her pelisse for a hooded cape and stuffed money into a leather bag. She ran back to the cart and scrambled up onto the driver’s seat. “Please hurry. I must get supplies before dark. I need to find a riverboat trader.”
The driver raised one eyebrow. “It ain’t safe, lady.”
“Nothing is safe. Just take me to one,” she said tartly. Dismay beset her as they left the town and neared a wooded area. The carriage stopped among trees, and she stepped out, stomach churning. Even the shadows seemed menacing.
“I ain’t goin’ no closer. No tellin’ if them bushwhackers are skulking around.”
Leila expelled an exasperated breath. “Fine. Will you at least wait for me?”
“I’ll give ya an hour.”
“Might I remind you that I hired your services for the day?”
He ejected a stream of brown tobacco spittle. “The fee ain’t worth dying for.”
“You’re so brave,” she murmured and rubbed her arms to ward off the early chill. Her fine kidskin boots squelched in mud as she walked toward the river and reached a narrow road leading to
a rickety wooden jetty. Leila faltered and glanced at rough men sprawled against trees. Their eyes followed her progress to the jetty. Leila’s spine tingled. Her boots echoed dully on the boards as she hurried to sailors boarding a longboat.
A rotund man stopped and stared at her. “How can I help ya, li’l lady?”
“I need supplies for Dr. McBride. I have money.” She pulled a pouch from under her cape.
He grabbed her arm. “Lordy, gal, put that away. The place is crawling with vermin. Hell, ya shouldn’t even be here.”
Leila’s mouth tightened. Time to change tactics. She allowed a tear to fall. “Please, sir, our brave soldiers are dying for want of medication.”
He watched her narrowly as he stroked his pepper-gray beard. “Well, the government hasn’t paid up yet. I guess I can let ya have some.”
She smiled tremulously and dabbed her eyes. “I shall be eternally grateful.” She handed him the scrap of paper. “Do you have all the things on this list?”
He squinted. “Not all. It really ain’t safe for ya here. I’ll bring the stuff to the hospital soon as I’ve collected what ya need.”
“Thank you, but I have a carriage waiting for me.”
“Lady, like I said, it ain’t safe. Ya go on ahead, an’ I’ll get the supplies to ya.”
Leila jutted her chin. “I’ll wait at the carriage, if it’s all the same to you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yerself.” Handing the list to one of the men in the longboat, he held his hand out. “I need payment upfront.”
“How much?”
“Hundred an’ fifty dollars.”
She bit her lip and handed him the pouch of money. “That seems a bit high.”
“Ya want the stuff or not?”
She nodded, and he yelled garbled instructions and stepped into the boat. They took off, rowing to a paddle steamer anchored mid-river.
Her breath escaped in puffs of condensation in the chilly air. Leila wondered if St. Louis experienced early snows. She shivered, not sure if it was from cold or fear. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, she gazed across the water that reflected autumn colors. It was hard to believe the country was locked in a bitter war. She turned and walked slowly along the jetty. Heavy footfalls sounded on the rotting planks, and her head snapped up.
Three men swaggered toward her.
She swallowed convulsively and considered her chances of scooting past them.
One of the men hitched his trousers and leered, exposing a row of rotting teeth. “Ya need an escort, li’l lady?”
“No, thank you.” Lifting her chin, she forged ahead, intent on passing them.
A hand grabbed her arm roughly. “No need to be uppity.” They surrounded her.
Heart pounding against her ribcage, she stopped and glared at them. “Unhand me.” She brought up her parasol and wacked one against the head.
With a growl, he snatched it from her and grabbed the back of her head. “Let’s see if ye’re as feisty on ya back.” He snatched the reticule from her wrist and tossed it at one of his buddies. “See if this filly has anythin’ of value, while I sample her.” He fingered her cheek and snickered. “Ye’re a pretty li’l thing.”
Paralyzed with fear, she struggled, as hairy arms wrapped around her.
“I’d leave the lady be if I were you.”
Leila stared at the biggest man she’d ever seen. The setting sun gleamed on his ebony face.
“Piss off, darkie!”
“Not going to happen, you damn peckerwood!” A massive fist came up and slammed into the attacker’s face, leaving a bloody mess of crushed bone and cartilage.
The man screamed and collapsed, clutching his shattered face. Snarling, his mates made a dive for the man.
Almost effortlessly, he grabbed their ears and slammed their heads together. He kicked them into the water and dusted his palms together. “That’s sorted them out.” He grinned and bowed. “I trust you are unharmed, madam.”
“Y-yes, thank you, I’m fine, and indebted to you.” Her knees threatened to give way, and she clutched his huge forearm.
“You aren’t fine at all.” He held out his arms. Threads hung from the sleeves of his tattered black jacket. “May I?” She nodded, and he lifted her into his arms. “Where were you going?”
“I have a carriage waiting for me at the top of the road.”
An explosion ripped through the air.
The force propelled the man forward. He dropped to his knees, still clutching Leila and shielding her with his immense body. Splinters of wood and chunks of metal hurtled through the air. He grunted and crouched over her, his full mouth pulled into a rictus of pain.
“You’ve been hurt,” Leila whispered and tried to wriggle free.
“No, just a scratch. Stay where you are.”
Once more, quiet descended, and Leila peered under his arm. The paddle steamer was a ball of flames. “H-how did that happen?” She hid her face against his chest. “Oh, my soul, those poor men who went to fetch my supplies.”
He looked around. “All may not be lost.” He set her down next to him and said. “Look.”
She stared at the brown river. Crates bobbed on the surface. Some had lost their contents, but others were intact. She stumbled up and staggered to the end of the jetty. A cry escaped, and she clapped a hand to her mouth.
The men in the longboat had almost made it. Their bodies, stripped of clothes and flesh, hung like carcasses over the edge of the boat.
“Oh, my God!” Bile burned in her throat. She vomited, sank to her knees, and pressed her hand to her chest; her heart was beating erratically. Her rescuer’s shadow fell across her, and she looked up. “I-I’m to blame.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, they were about to board anyway. Your money is still there.”
Leila gaped at him and shuddered. “Are you suggesting I take it from a dead man?”
He shrugged. “It could buy more supplies, and he sure as hell doesn’t need it.”
“I suppose you have a point.”
He thrust out one huge hand. “I’m Joshua Manning. I worked on the Manning family’s plantation.”
“I’m Leila Dempsey.” Pity welled in Leila’s heart. “You speak well.”
He smiled. “The only good person in that family was Manning’s eldest daughter, Kate.” He gazed across the now calm water. “She taught me to read and write.”
“What happened to her?” Leila whispered.
“Her father sent her away months before.”
“Why?”
Wide eyed, he glared at Leila. “I need to retrieve those boxes for you.” He stripped off his jacket.
Leila stared at a red bloodstain on his shirt. “You are hurt.”
“It’s nothing.” He dived in, cleaving the water and surfacing among debris. “I’ll push the boxes to shore. Go and fetch your driver to help me carry them.”
Nodding, Leila lifted her skirt and raced along the jetty, barely sparing a glance for the men who’d attacked her. Their bodies were also shredded. She couldn’t believe Joshua hadn’t suffered the same fate while saving her life. Thank God the carriage is still here. Gasping for air, Leila looked around. “Hello?”
The driver’s head popped up from behind bushes, his eyes dilated. “What the hell was that explosion?”
“The paddle steamer blew up.”
“How?”
“I have no idea. Come with me. My friend needs help getting the supplies into the carriage.”
He followed her to the river. “How come yer supplies didn’t go up with the boat?”
“Come.”
“Yes, ma’am.” As they arrived, the driver rocked back on his heels and stared at the wreckage and bodies floating on the water. “Holy mothe
r of God!”
Joshua waded to the edge, dragging a fourth crate to shore. He tapped one. “All these are medical supplies. I’m afraid the other crates are busted open.”
The driver helped him drag the box out. “You speak fancy English for a darkie.”
Leila’s head shot up, and she glared at him, preparing a sharp rebuke.
Joshua stopped and settled cold eyes on the driver and held out his hand. “Name’s Joshua Manning.”
“Alf Johnston.” He flushed and shook Joshua’s hand.
Leila hid a smile and tried to help drag the boxes. Joshua pushed her aside gently. “Leave them.” He hoisted one on his shoulder and staggered up the incline to the carriage.
Alf stared at him, open mouthed. “Lawdy, ye’re mighty strong.”
Joshua dumped the box and came back, grinning. “They chose the best stock from Africa.”
“I see another box,” Alf said and waded in to fetch it.
Before long they had six boxes loaded. “I don’t think we can carry more. I’m sure Dr. McBride will be very happy.” Leila put her foot on a wheel spoke. Joshua took her waist, hoisted her onto the seat, and followed her and Alf up.
The trip to Benton Barracks was slow. People turned to stare as the wet, grubby trio made their way through town in the loaded buggy. Leila was beyond exhausted, but she couldn’t weaken now. “Joshua, you must stay at the boarding house with my friend and me.”
Laughter rumbled deep in his barrel chest. “That might be harder to accomplish than you think, Mrs. Dempsey.”
“Please call me Leila.”
