Mail Order Penelope (Widows, Brides & Secret Babies Book 23)

by Zina Abbott

  Once there, how would she pay for a train ticket?

  She barely pulled the partial diaper from her carpetbag to add to the shorter of the two stacks of diapers when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Must be one of the other passengers returning to their room. When she heard the knock on her door, her entire body twitched.

  Penelope stared at the door. She did not wish to talk to anyone. Her disappointment felt too raw.

  “Mrs. Humphry, may I speak with you? I will be leaving shortly, but, as I told you earlier, if you’re willing, I still need your help. Are you agreeable to discussing it with me?”

  Penelope’s first impulse was to shout out that she was the one who needed help. Then, she mentally chastised herself. How uncharitable. What better way to forget her troubles than do something to help others? Besides, knowing the empty state of his surgery supply chest, she already planned to gift him some supplies she hoped he might find useful. She grabbed the stack of diapers with the partial on top before she crossed the room. She forced a smile as she opened the door. “Good morning, Captain.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Humphry. I trust you’ve recovered somewhat from the distressing news you heard this morning.”

  As she dropped her gaze, Penelope bit her bottom lip. No. She looked him in the face once more and smiled. “I’m working on it, Captain. It requires me to make a new plan for Jerry and me. Here.” She held out the stack of white cloths. “These have not been boiled, Captain. The top one, although it was reasonably clean when I first packed it, has been handled and shifted around in my carpetbag. I tore strips off it to use on Mr. Pierce when he was first wounded. Nevertheless, I know you don’t have many bandages left in your supply chest. Perhaps, if you can dip them in some of your carbolic acid solution…” She hesitated as the dumbfounded expression on Marcus’s face registered with her.

  Marcus accepted the stack of folded, white bird’s-eye fabric. His face widened into a smile that radiated through his eyes. “Here I came to ask for your help, and perhaps, offer a small portion of assistance in return. You, Mrs. Humphry, have beat me to it by giving me something I will need when I tend the wounded men at the next station. What I don’t use, I’ll return to you.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I hope to have Jeremy trained soon, but I doubt it will happen until we are settled. Until then…” Penelope stopped speaking and pressed her lips together. Listening to her challenges with raising Jeremy was not why he was there. “I already made arrangements with the cook to take over his kitchen this afternoon to wash and boil your bandages so they’ll be dry and ready for you when you return.”

  “Speaking of clean bandages…” Marcus looked around before he focused back on Penelope. “I feel awkward talking to you at the top of a stair landing, but this building right now doesn’t offer much privacy. Is this acceptable to you?”

  Penelope nodded. “Right now, Jeremy has found a means to entertain himself. It would be best if I stay where he can see me.” She interlaced her fingers and dropped them in front of her. “How might I help you, Captain?”

  “I need someone to oversee the care of our patients in my absence.”

  Penelope blinked, and then felt her eyes round at the implication of what he wished from her. He called them our patients again, like he is offering me a small ownership in their care.

  Marcus forged ahead. “When you helped me with the surgeries, I saw what you can do. You understand my disinfecting procedure and seem to accept it. I trust your judgment as far as checking the wounds.”

  “But, the men. They might not feel comfortable having a woman take care of them.”

  Marcus shrugged. “The men Lt. Ezekiel has recruited as temporary orderlies will take care of their personal needs. I’ll instruct them that, at least twice a day, you will check the wound sites on all four patients. They’ll prepare the men so you won’t see more than will be comfortable. I need to you check for infection, clean the wound, if you deem it necessary, and reapply clean bandages. I’ll leave some carbolic acid solution already prepared, but I want only you to be the one to use it.”

  Her lips parted in disbelief that he entrusted so much responsibility to her, Penelope nodded. “Of course, Captain. I’ll help take care of them to the best of my ability.”

  “Mrs. Humphry, I don’t wish to bring up painful memories, but do I understand correctly that, in recent years, you have helped nurse sick family members?

  Penelope lowered her gaze and nodded. “My husband came home from the war in poor health. I took care of him for weeks toward the end until he finally contracted pneumonia and passed. Even before he returned home and we married, my mother was diagnosed with cancer.” Her memories flooded over her, and she offered a wry smile. “She lived longer than expected.” And was ornery and difficult to live with the whole time. “Our doctor was very helpful as far as instructing me how to care for her.”

  “And, I think you mentioned earlier, that care included giving her laudanum?”

  Penelope nodded. She shuddered at the recollection that it was only when her mother was under the influence of the pain-killing drug that Penelope enjoyed any peace and freedom from complaints and criticism.

  “Some of the patients might need laudanum. I’ll leave a small supply, as well as willow bark tea. You are aware, are you not, that willow bark tea can help not only with pain, but it can help reduce a fever if it climbs too high or lasts too long?”

  “Yes, of course. We’ve used it in our home.”

  “Good. The cook can prepare that for you, if you like. In fact, he’ll be your biggest support.”

  Penelope smiled. “He already is.” She watched as the man before her grew serious.

  “I want only you to administer the laudanum. It can be habit-forming. As much as I don’t want the men to suffer, I don’t want them to become too dependent on it. The same with the willow bark tea. I believe a mild fever helps fight the infection. Too much fever, or one that lasts too long, becomes debilitating and threatens the whole body. I trust you to decide how to administer the medications. Are you willing to take on that responsibility?”

  “Of-of course.” Penelope could not help but be flattered. Here, at one of the lowest times in her life, she was being entrusted with an important task. Instead of feeling worthless and helpless like she did mere minutes before, a renewed sense of worth surged within her. It was all due to the captain—the man who had run the gamut from belittling her decision to travel west, treating her with impatience, praising how she assisted with his surgeries, standing by her when confronted with the reality of Harvey Layton’s scheme, and now trusting her to care for his patients.

  “I’ve already talked to the cook about serving the injured broth made from bones and minced meat. That’s assuming Lt. Ezekiel and my mounted patrol who are leaving on a bison hunt enjoy success.” He hesitated and focused his gaze on Penelope. “Mrs. Humphry, I’ve also instructed him to keep some of the broth aside for your son. I suspect your supply of canned milk is getting low. If you can convince your boy to drink the broth, you can save the milk for later.”

  At the reminder of her limited food supplies for Jeremy, Penelope looked off to the side. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. Thank you, Captain. That will be a help.”

  “Happy that’s settled. Please collect your son, Mrs. Humphry, and we’ll go tell the captain the good news.”

  Penelope twisted to look behind her.

  Jeremy had fallen asleep in the middle of the floor. His knees were tucked up under his tummy so his little bottom poked up into the air. His forehead rested on the floor, braced on either side by his fists.

  After closing the door, laughter danced in Penelope’s eyes as she returned her gaze to the captain. “He’s asleep for now. I don’t wish to wake him. Let me put his blanket over him, and I’ll be ready.” After she took care of Jeremy, she softly closed the door behind her. She placed her hand in the crook of Marcus’s arm and allowed him to guide her down the stairs.

&
nbsp; Once they reached the main floor, as she and Marcus turned the corner into the room where they had performed surgeries the night before, the first person Penelope saw was a soldier with corporal chevrons, kepi in hand, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

  As soon as the corporal saw Marcus, he grinned as he came to attention and smartly saluted. “Captain, the ambulance is out back for when you’re ready.”

  Marcus returned the salute. “Thank you, Cpl. Chester. I’m almost ready. In the meantime, I have an errand for you.

  The ambulance driver nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  After Marcus gave his order, the driver saluted again and left through the kitchen.

  Marcus guided Penelope over to the table now covered with papers.

  Capt. Conyngham rose from his chair on the opposite side as the pair approached. “Welcome, Mrs. Humphry. May I offer you a chair?”

  Once Penelope was seated with Marcus in the chair next to her, she smiled at the fort commander.

  “Capt. Conyngham, I’m pleased to announce that Mrs. Humphry has agreed to be hired as a temporary hospital matron. She will take responsibility for the wounded in your post until my return.”

  Penelope’s eyes grew wide, and her lips parted. What? I was hired? To be a hospital matron?

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Humphry. That relieves me of a great deal of concern regarding the care of my men.”

  Penelope turned to Marcus. “I don’t understand. I said I was willing to help, and I am. You said nothing about me being a hospital matron.”

  “That’s what the job you will be doing is called. Most military hospitals hire at least one. They assist the hospital steward and help take care of the female patients who come for care.”

  “But-but, we said nothing about me being hired to do this. I’m happy to help without being paid.”

  Marcus leaned toward her. “You will get paid, Mrs. Humphry. Fourteen dollars a month, the usual salary, is not an extravagant wage considering the responsibility a matron takes on, but it is something. I appreciate your willingness to give of your time freely, but it is not necessary. We are all being paid. I am, just as the captain and all his men are. Even the infantrymen who have been pulled into duty as temporary orderlies receive pay for their efforts. Three of the four patients I’ve asked you to care for are military men. A matron who cares for soldiers in a fort hospital is a civilian contractor who is paid by the Army. Since I know the Fort Hays hospital is temporarily without a matron, I can confidently hire you on for a short time. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t receive pay for the duties you’ve agreed to perform.”

  Unable to look Marcus in the face, Penelope blinked back tears she refused to allow to fall. He knows my money is almost gone, and he’s trying to help me earn more. Even a few dollars will help.

  Capt. Conyngham nodded. “He’s right.” He paused and wrinkled his forehead. “Although, I wasn’t aware the good doctor, here, considered the men brought in to help the wounded to be orderlies. I hope it isn’t a difference in pay grade.”

  Marcus shook his head. “No, especially since they have responsibility for so few men.” He returned his attention to Penelope. “Effective yesterday, when you first assisted me in surgery, you will be paid, too, Mrs. Humphry. I cannot offer you a permanent position. That would be up to the hospital steward.”

  Penelope sniffed and swallowed. “I understand. I appreciate the employment you are able to offer.” It sure beats washing laundry all day, although I’ll be doing a fair amount of that, starting this afternoon.

  Capt. Conyngham’s forehead creased, and he raised an eyebrow. “Are you returning to Fort Hays, Mrs. Humphry? I thought you were traveling west.”

  Penelope refused to allow Marcus to do all the talking for her. She lifted her chin. “My plans have changed, Captain.” She paused long enough to lick her lips. “I’ve decided living in Pond Creek will be too dangerous for my son and me. I’m returning east on the next available stagecoach.”

  The fort commander nodded. “A wise choice, Mrs. Humphry.”

  “If it’s all the same with you, Mrs. Humphry, I prefer that you travel back to Fort Hays in the ambulance with me. It will be just as safe as the stagecoach, and, in your capacity as hospital matron, you will be available to assist me with the wounded.”

  Dumbfounded, Penelope turned and stared at Marcus. He is trying to extend my days as a matron so I will earn more pay.

  A thoughtful expression on his face, Capt. Conyngham nodded. “That sounds reasonable. It will also dispense with any dispute the stage company might have over converting your ticket.” He leaned back in his chair and, as he studied Penelope, worked the muscles surrounding his mouth. “I heard about Mrs. Polly. Such a shame, her dying after contracting the same cholera she so tirelessly treated in others.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “If you enjoy this kind of work, Mrs. Humphry, when you return to Fort Hays, you might wish to meet with Steward Polly and see if he’ll make the job permanent. Capt. Garrett can probably help you with that. Of course, you’d have to pay for your own room and make arrangements for your child.”

  Penelope nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind, Captain. Right now, I prefer to focus on helping the men here.”

  The door leading to the kitchen opened, and heavy footsteps sounded.

  Penelope turned in her chair to see who entered. The cook entered with the ambulance driver by his side. This time, Cpl. Chester carried a pair of saddlebags on one shoulder and a small food canister in his hand. Next to him, another soldier carried a small keg.

  Marcus stood. “You both may approach, Corporal.”

  The two walked closer and saluted.

  The ambulance driver pointed to his fellow infantryman. “Here’s the flour you asked for, sir.” He shucked the saddlebags off his shoulder and held them and the canister toward Marcus. “And the other you requested, sir.”

  Capt. Conyngham, an expression of incredulity on his face rose halfway from his chair and, palms flat on the table, leaned forward with locked elbows and straight arms. “That’s labeled ‘flour.’” Do you mean to tell me you’ve had a keg of white flour with you all this time?” He shook his head. “None came in with our last subsistence supply. We ran out weeks ago.”

  Marcus nodded. “It’s part of the ambulance’s rations. I’m leaving it here for you. I’m not sure there’s enough for your cook to bake into something for your entire command. Mostly, I intend for it to help feed the injured men, Mrs. Humphry, and her son, as well as the others assigned to the building.” He cleared his throat. “Captain, I’m requesting your cook take the flour and tin of saleratus to your kitchen with the understanding that Mrs. Humphry will not be required to pay for her own meals while here—hers or her son’s.” He paused and smiled. “Earlier in our journey, I observed that Master Jeremy is partial to flapjacks, especially if they can be made with a little fatback.”

  As heat crept up her neck into her face, Penelope lowered her head. He is seeing that I don’t have to pay for my food so I don’t appear to be the beggar I shortly will be.

  The commander laughed and shook his head. “I’m rather partial to them, myself.”

  Marcus motioned for his corporal to hand him his saddlebags. He opened one side and pulled out a bundle made from uniform trousers. Carefully unrolling them on the tabletop revealed three small jars. “Good, they didn’t break. That was my only spare pair I brought with me, so I’m glad they aren’t stained beyond redemption.”

  Marcus looked up until his gaze met that of the commander. “Capt. Conyngham, I’m also donating this jam toward Mrs. Humphry’s rations. I bought these from the Fort Hays sutler when I was preparing to travel back to my usual post at Fort Larned. They were already packed when I was detailed to come here first.” He picked up one jar and held it up to the light coming in through the back window. “This one looks to have a good portion of fruit chunks in it.” He handed it to Penelope. “Mrs. Humphry, I wish you to reserve this j
ar for you and your son.”

  Penelope, realizing many foods that she thought of as commonplace were considered luxuries here on the frontier, leaned away and held up her palm. “Oh, no. I prefer to share with the rest. We’ll be fine.”

  Marcus shoved it closer to her. “It’s been awhile since my son was the age of yours, Mrs. Humphry. However, I do recall that, when he was young, if we suddenly changed his diet, he often refused to eat. He was hungry, and he cried for what he wanted. At least until you can get your boy back to Fort Hays, I would like you to have something that will tempt his appetite.”

  Penelope accepted the jar with both hands. “Thank you. I’ll use it for Jeremy.”

  Marcus stood. “Now, as soon as I set aside the medications you’ll need, I’ll let my men finish loading the ambulance. Then I must leave.” He shook his head. “I wish I had another medicine chest for you.”

  “I can get her a small crate that might work, sir.”

  Marcus turned to the cook, who made the offer. “Thank you, Corporal. Also, please show my men where you wish them to put the flour keg and saleratus.”

  Feeling her mind caught in a whirlwind that reminded her of the tornados that sometimes swept across Kansas, Penelope used the paper and pencil the commander gave her to jot down medications, doses for each patient, and other instructions.

  Marcus picked up the smaller of the two chests—the one that held the medicines and a full bottle of carbolic acid. He turned to Penelope with a smile. “I hope to return later tomorrow. If not, possibly the following day. Until then, I have confidence in your abilities, Mrs. Humphry.”

  Penelope heard Jeremy’s faint wail sound through the door and down the stairwell. She turned to Marcus and smiled. “I need to see to Jerry now. I wish you and your men a safe journey, Captain.” And please return soon.

  As Penelope ascended the stairs, snippets of conversations and questions darted through her head.