Love Inspired Historical October 2013 Bundle: A Family for ChristmasThe Secret PrincessTaming the Texas RancherAn Unlikely Union

by Winnie Griggs

  “I am so sorry,” was all Emily could think to say.

  Sam shook his head. “No. He is right. There is no use prolonging the matter. Perhaps burial will bring closure. I’ll tell him.”

  He started forward. Julia followed. Emily tried not to allow fear and suspicion to plague her thoughts, but she could not help it. Was Dr. Mackay acting in Edward’s best interest, or was he intentionally trying to cause this family pain? Emily regretted telling him about the day on Pratt Street. What was it he had said? That Sam and Julia were as guilty as sin? Did Dr. Mackay see this as some opportunity to punish them for what had happened to his brother?

  Cold chills traveled down her back. What if Edward becomes enraged? What if in his grief he seeks to harm his sister?

  She had to do something. As her friends stepped into the room, Emily glanced about. Rebekah was busy helping Josiah into a fresh shirt and Jeremiah was at the far end assisting another man. Edward was in his bed, tray still across his lap.

  Sam approached him. He had no idea what had happened to Emily last night, and she had no way of telling him now. He and Julia will be taken by surprise if Edward’s battle strength is roused.

  But she would not be taken unawares, at least not this time.

  “If I may,” she said, quickly approaching. “Allow me.”

  Sam looked at her. “He spoke with you before, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. Briefly.”

  “Then perhaps he will again. By all means...” He made way for her.

  Drawing in a quick breath Emily headed toward Edward’s bed. Fear raked its icy claws across her arms, making her heart pound. She prayed her emotions weren’t showing on her face. Help me, Lord.

  Edward looked up at her. He handed her the tray with his remaining arm, thinking that was what she had come for. She took it from him and placed it on the small table beside his bed. Julia and Sam were at his feet, but he appeared not to notice them.

  “What happened to you, Emmy?”

  She didn’t know what startled her more, his words or the fact that the torn sleeve and bandage were in full view. She had laid aside her apron without thinking. Edward’s face showed his concern.

  “It is nothing,” she said. “Just a scratch. The doctor has seen to it.”

  He still stared. “You once bandaged my arm like that,” he said.

  Her heart was in her throat. He had said more in the past two minutes than he had during his entire stay at the hospital. How could he remember something as insignificant as a childhood injury and not remember what he had done just hours ago?

  Emily tried to keep her voice steady. “Yes. I did,” she said. “You had trouble climbing my oak tree.”

  That lost look filled his face. The muscles in his neck twitched. “Stephen was there,” he said. “I remember.”

  Though fear chilled her spine, Emily sat down beside him. “Yes, he was. I remember that, as well.”

  Edward’s eyes were locked on hers. It was as if he was waiting, as if he knew she had something to tell him. Emily whispered a quick prayer.

  “Eddie,” she said slowly. “They are bringing Stephen home for burial.”

  He blinked twice as the words sank in. She waited for any sign of anger or desperation. The only look that came was one of resignation.

  “When?” he asked.

  Her shoulders dropped as she released the breath she’d been holding. She looked at Sam. He came forward.

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Your father and I are going to meet the train.”

  “Thank you.” Edward said matter-of-factly.

  Emily breathed once more, this time a little deeper. Julia moved closer as Edward then looked to her.

  “Is Sally with her father?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Emily gave Julia her place but still remained close.

  “Is she well?” Edward asked.

  “She is managing.”

  Their conversation continued. Sensing the danger had passed, Emily faded back. The long night had caught up with her. Her body ached with fatigue. Emotionally she was drained.

  Turning, she saw that there, just a few paces in front of her, stood Dr. Mackay. As usual he was watching her. That smug look of confidence was on his face. He had been right, but she hadn’t the strength or desire to tell him that. As of now all Emily wanted was a long, cool bath to wash away the dirt and dried blood, then sleep. She hoped such things would remove all thoughts of war from her mind.

  * * *

  Evan watched her leave. Her shoulders were slumped, her steps slow. Few women would have endured the assault she had and begged for the chance to still care for the one who had caused it. She was dedicated, but why she poured so much of her strength into these rebs was beyond him. It had already taken its toll on her once with the sun. If she wasn’t careful she would succumb to something far worse.

  Naive little lass.

  He then turned his attention to her friend, Mrs. Ward. And there sits another.

  It hadn’t escaped his notice that she was with child. He had no idea why that husband of hers didn’t insist she remain at home. The man must be a fool, unable to grasp the dangers pregnancy could impose.

  Devotion to that Johnny will be her undoing.

  He turned on his heel and moved quickly away. He could never look at the young woman for very long without thinking of Mary.

  How big had she gotten? How much movement had she felt? Could she yet determine elbows from knees? Guilt raked its icy claws across his chest. He hadn’t known of her condition until it was too late. I should have been there. I never should have left her.

  “Is Miss Emily coming back tonight?”

  The frail voice called him from his thoughts. The boy reb, sick with dysentery, was looking up at him.

  “I saw she’d done hurt her arm,” he said. “She looked mighty poorly this morning.”

  Evan wasn’t going to divulge any details, certainly not to him. “As far as I know, Nurse Emily will return this evening.”

  The Johnny looked somewhat relieved. “You tend to her arm?” he asked.

  “Aye.”

  “That’s good. I wouldn’t want no harm to come to her.”

  The fire in Evan’s belly smoldered. But you’d let harm come to plenty of others. You’d bring on the death of a thousand innocent women and children if you thought it would secure victory for your cause.

  Movement to his right caught his eye, a flash of yellow silk. Mrs. Ward was on her husband’s arm, heading for the door.

  At least he’s taking her with him this time, Evan thought. But if they can’t recognize the dangers of being here, I’ll see to it they have no reason to come at all. He knew exactly what he would do. I’ll give my recommendation to the ward master. The reb’s wounds have healed satisfactorily and now that he is speaking...

  That will settle two issues. Mrs. Ward will remain at home and Nurse Emily can tend to the remaining prisoners without further injury.

  * * *

  A few hours of precious sleep were just what Emily needed. After supper, her parents drove her to the hospital.

  “You be careful tonight,” her mother insisted. “Don’t go near those troubled men without that doctor’s assistance.”

  “I won’t,” Emily promised.

  She had told them of the incident with Edward but did not reveal his name. Emily did not wish to add to their grief. Stephen’s impending funeral weighed heavily upon them all.

  “Abigail and I will prepare food for after the service tomorrow,” Mrs. Davis said. “And the Stantons have offered to open their home.”

  “That will work well,” Emily said. “They have the largest parlor and dining room.”

  “Indeed.”

  “We probably won’t need it now,” her father said.

  Emily looked at him. “But Mr. Hastings is acquainted with so many people. Why, those he knew from the city counsel alone—”

  “His former counsel members have all expressed
their sympathies.”

  Former. The word still stung. Mr. Hastings had lost his position with the governing body last summer. The issue had been over the effort to raise Federal companies from Baltimore. Sally’s father could not support a measure that would form troops to fight against other Maryland men, namely, his own son.

  He’d voted no. So had several others. Under pressure from occupying General Wool, he and the other dissenting counsel members had been forced to resign. They were soon replaced by “loyal” men who would vote for the measure.

  “None of them plan to attend the service tomorrow,” her father continued.

  Emily sighed disgustedly. “It is a funeral. Can we not dispense with the politics long enough to grieve for a man from Baltimore?”

  “Apparently not.”

  Poor Mr. Hastings, she thought. Poor Sally.

  Her father pulled the carriage to the hospital’s main entrance. Darkness had just about fallen. Army stewards were lighting the gas lamps at the front door.

  “Joshua will be by to collect you in the morning,” he said, “as I have business at the fort.”

  “Will you return in time for the service?” Emily asked.

  “I will make certain of it.”

  Her parents both kissed her goodbye. “God keep you,” her mother said. “I will pray for you.”

  Emily appreciated those prayers greatly, for as eager as she was to keep serving, she was still uneasy. How would Edward fare tonight? In what mood would she find Dr. Mackay?

  Navigating the dim corridors, she hurried inside. Rebekah gave her the evening report. Edward had been contemplative but peaceful. Josiah was strengthening. Sergeant Adam Cooper’s lungs were worse.

  “You may wish to set your chair beside him tonight,” she suggested.

  Dr. Mackay made his evening rounds. Emily assisted as the morphine powders and other pills were distributed.

  “Keep a second oil lamp lit tonight,” he told her, for previously she’d left only one burning.

  She could not argue with that. She would have clearer vision of whatever may be happening at both ends of the ward. And perhaps the extra bit of light will keep tonight’s sentinel fully awake.

  Emily prepared for a vigil beside Adam, but Dr. Mackay claimed the spot first. Loosening the top buttons on his vest, he looked as though he was going to keep watch for quite a while. She placed her chair once more beside Josiah.

  “Have you a story for me again tonight, Miss Emily?”

  His innocence warmed her heart. “Indeed I do, Josiah.”

  “Give us another adventure,” the soldier beside him said.

  Dr. Mackay’s warning concerning scriptures of war was foremost in her mind.

  “What about the Apostle Paul and his adventure on the high seas?” she said.

  Josiah’s eyes widened in delight. “Shipwrecks and snakebites?”

  “That’s right.”

  The man to her left, Corporal John Hudson, a Georgia fellow, worked himself into a sitting position. “Snakebites? Be they copperheads?”

  “No,” Emily said. “But just as deadly.”

  She turned to the book of Acts and began to read. By the time she got to the part about the snake fastening itself onto Paul’s hand, even Dr. Mackay was listening.

  “And he just shook it off and went on?” John asked.

  “Indeed,” Emily said. “Although everyone around expected him to die.”

  “But he didn’t die,” Josiah said.

  “That’s right,” she said. “You see, God had a plan for Paul’s life and nothing, no shipwreck or serpent, could keep him from it. He has a plan for each of your lives, as well. He loves you so much.”

  With that, Dr. Mackay came stomping across the floor. “That is enough reading for tonight.”

  “I like her Bible stories, Doc,” Josiah said.

  “Hush,” he insisted. He stuck his stethoscope in his ears, leaned over the boy.

  “I like ’um, as well,” John said. “Read us Joshua and the Battle of Jericho. That one where the walls come down.”

  “Wish these walls would come down,” the soldier across from him muttered.

  Dr. Mackay pulled his stethoscope from his ears. The look he shot the Confederate man could have snuffed out life. “I said that’s enough!” He turned his glare on her. “Put the Bible away.”

  Emily’s heart sank. No one here is trying to incite rebellion, she wanted to say. They simply want to go home!

  Though disappointed, Emily did as she was told. She moved to the table where the water pitchers sat. Claiming one, she then went to each bed. Whether the men were truly thirsty or not, they all drank. Emily did her best to smile, to act as if Dr. Mackay’s scolding had not really affected her, but they all knew better. They looked at her with pity.

  Inwardly she sighed. She felt like a failure, in every sense of the word. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their sympathy; she just didn’t want to be the focus of their attention.

  Lord, I want them to know You. I want them to know Your love, Dr. Mackay included.

  “Emmy?” she heard Edward call.

  Fear made her muscles twitch, yet compassion tugged her forward. I have no need to be frightened, she told herself. He is fully awake. So is everyone else in the ward.

  “Do you really believe all of that?” he asked.

  “Believe what?”

  “About God loving you. About Him having a plan for our lives.”

  Though her insides were still churning, she forced herself to sit down. “Yes, I do.”

  “Julia says the same. So does Sam.”

  “They are right.”

  Edward’s eyes held a look of defeat. “Perhaps He loves His purpose more.”

  “Which purpose is that?”

  “Judgment.”

  Emily’s heart squeezed in pain. “Is that what you think is happening?”

  “Isn’t it? My arm, my friends, my city...I’ve chosen the wrong side. God isn’t with me. The bluecoats and the abolitionists all say so.”

  She drew in a quick breath. Lord, give me the right words. How could she say with certainty what Heaven’s purpose was concerning this war? She had seen good and bad on both sides. Edward wasn’t personally fighting to keep men in chains any more than every Northern man wished to free them.

  “I don’t know what to say to that, Eddie, except that we are all sinners. We are all stubborn and selfish, hurting others when we insist upon our own way.” She paused. “And you are right. God’s holiness demands judgment, but I also know that He grieves for us. In His holiness He provided a way to redeem us, through Jesus.”

  He was quiet for several moments. Emily simply waited.

  “My family didn’t want me to join this war,” he said.

  Julia had once told her that on the first night of the Federal occupation she had begged Edward not to go south.

  “I went anyway,” he said. “Convinced I was going to throw those Yankees out of town. I wanted to kill as many of them as possible after what they had done to my sister on Pratt Street. And yet I ended up only hurting her and everyone else I care about.”

  Though the night before he’d torn her flesh in anger, Emily took his hand in hers. Edward clasped it tightly, but no trace of the vengeful warrior remained.

  “I can’t even look at Sally,” he said. “When I think of what I have done to her...”

  She blinked back tears. “She bears you no ill will, Eddie. None of us do. Least of all God. He loves you.”

  Footsteps crossed the boards, but Emily continued anyway. She would do her best to respect Dr. Mackay’s orders, but she would not neglect this moment with Edward. She needed it as much as he, perhaps even more so.

  “Our choices,” she said, “our failures in life do not change that. God’s love is constant.”

  “Blessed are the peacemakers,” Edward quoted. “For they shall be called the Sons of God.”

  “Peace begins with God,” Emily said. “By accepting H
is forgiveness, letting His love fill our hearts. Only then can we look upon other men, not as our enemies, but as treasures loved also by Him.”

  Dr. Mackay cleared his throat. Emily looked up. She expected an expression of disdain, but the look in his eyes matched the pain in Edward’s.

  “I have need of your assistance,” he said.

  “Yes, of course.”

  She gave Edward’s hand a gentle squeeze, then followed Dr. Mackay across the ward. The look of vulnerability had passed and that determined frown once again creased his forehead. He strode toward Adam’s bed. One glance at the man and Emily swallowed back more tears. His fever was high. His face showed pain.

  “Hold him while I take a good listen,” Dr. Mackay instructed.

  Emily carefully claimed the edge of his bed as the Scotsman pushed the poor man from his pillows so that his back was exposed. She cradled the shivering sergeant against her as he moved his stethoscope.

  Adam sputtered a weak, kitten-like cry. “So...cold...”

  “There now,” she said softly. “It will only be for a few moments. Then you can reclaim your pillows.”

  He coughed raggedly, winced in pain.

  “Hold on to me,” she encouraged.

  He did, but the arms that encircled her were not those of a strong, valiant soldier. They were those of a dying man. Emily looked to Dr. Mackay. She could tell by his distressed expression that the poor sergeant’s condition was grave.

  God help Dr. Mackay, she prayed. Help him relieve the suffering.

  He pulled the stethoscope from his ears. “His lungs are completely full.”

  Disgust filled his eyes, but he gently laid Adam down. Emily quickly covered him. She reached for a nearby sponge to wipe the sergeant’s brow.

  “Wait here,” Dr. Mackay told her as he walked away.

  Emily continued to comfort the man as best as she could until he returned. When he finally did come back, he was angry.

  “We are completely out of ether,” he fumed. “How can one be expected to—” He stopped, stared at her. “You will have to steady him.”

  She gulped, not liking the sound of that. “What are you going to do?”

  “Drain the fluid.”