Molly grabbed it and held it close to her chest. The letter she’d been waiting for had at last arrived. She waved toward the stove. “Watch the stew and the biscuits in the oven. Don’t let them burn unless you want cold jelly on bread for lunch today.”
“I suppose I can do that for you.” The gleam still shone in her eyes. “If my beau was that far away, I guess I’d be excited to hear from him.”
Molly flipped the dishtowel toward Clara, who ducked and laughed but grabbed her apron. “Go on now. I can take care of this.”
With the letter still clasped to her chest, Molly raced up the stairs to her room, where she could read Stefan’s letter in private. She flopped on her bed then tore open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper written on both sides.
After reading it through once, she propped herself on a pillow against the headboard of her bed and commenced to reread the letter. He talked about being back at the fort and taking part in drills as well as how much he liked Warrior, his new horse. He was perfect for the army and followed orders like a regular soldier. He mentioned Clarissa and how she missed Andrew and how he’d pray for them to work out their lives.
Then she stopped to read more slowly and devour the parts about their time together.
Molly, I treasure the time we spent with one another in Stoney Creek. Your laughter still rings in my head when I think of you. I also remember the glow about you when you talked about the children in your classes. I pray you enjoyed our time together as much as I did.
She frowned as the remaining words reminded her of how stubborn she’d been in her attitude toward the military and Stefan’s chosen career. How could she have been so mule-headed?
Life here is hard, Molly. I’ve watched the other women, and they have so much to take care of each day as their men leave on duty patrols. It’s a lonely life confined within the fort walls, and the terrain around us is barren and dry and hot. I wouldn’t even think of asking you to come here to live now that I’ve come back and really see what life is like here for the military wives. I do miss you, but I love you too much to ask you to give up your life there in Stoney Creek for me, especially knowing how much you dislike the military. I will always keep you in my heart and pray that someday we see each other again.
Ever Yours,
Stefan
Tears welled in her eyes and blurred the words but joy filled her heart. He didn’t know of her change of heart. Of course he wouldn’t ask her to come to him with the attitudes she’d displayed while he’d been with her. She had to get her letter to him right away so he’d know how much she’d changed and how much she wanted to be with him.
She jumped up from the bed and searched in her writing table drawer until she found the letter and an envelope. Seated at the table, Molly took up her pen and copied Stefan’s address onto the blank paper. After sealing the envelope and placing a stamp in the corner, she sat back to revel in her thoughts and feelings for Stefan.
The mail wouldn’t go out until tomorrow’s train, but then it would streak its way on the rails to Arizona and into Stefan’s hands. Then he’d know how much she loved him and wanted to be with him no matter where he lived or what he did.
CHAPTER 27
ON THURSDAY MORNING Andrew checked to make sure he had the papers he needed for introduction to Dr. Sutton at the hospital. He secured them in the inside pocket of his suit coat, picked up his satchel, then made his way downstairs to Mrs. Dyer’s room. In the past few days he’d heard numerous stories of the days when Sallie, Hannah, and their brothers lived here. He could understand why they loved it so much. His room opened onto a balcony above the front porch. Several plants decorated the space along with a white wicker chair. He’d spent last evening reading in that very spot.
At the foot of the stairs, voices drifted in from the back room where Mrs. Dyer lay. He recognized Sallie Whiteman’s, but not the man’s. Not wanting to intrude, he stopped at the doorway and found a man in a black suit with a white clerical collar speaking to Mrs. Dyer.
Mrs. Whiteman turned to see him at the door and motioned for him to come in. “Andrew, this is the rector from our church, Reverend William Douglas.”
Andrew extended his hand in greeting as Mrs. Whiteman continued. “Dr. Delmont is Manfred’s associate in Stoney Creek. He accompanied me on the train and is going down to New Orleans on the morning boat to see about a position at Charity Hospital there.”
The rector gripped Andrew’s hand with a firm hold. “I’m pleased to meet you, and so glad you were able to come with Mrs. Whiteman. I will pray that all goes well on your visit to Charity.”
“Thank you.” He reached down and held Mrs. Dyer’s hand. “I’ll be back to see you as soon as I return from New Orleans, but that may be several days.” Her color this morning appeared even paler than it had earlier, but that could still be a result of the move.
The older woman smiled but did not attempt to speak. Mrs. Whiteman bent over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see Andrew out and then be back. The rector will stay with you until I return.”
She escorted Andrew outside where she hugged him. “I do pray all goes well. We would miss you in Stoney Creek, but if this is where God wants you and it will bring you closer to Clarissa, then this is best for everyone.”
The more he’d thought about it the more determined he became to win Colonel and Mrs. Elliot’s approval. Andrew would never expect Clarissa to defy her parents’ wishes for her, but if she still loved him as she claimed, with God’s help, they would find a way to gain consent from her parents.
Down at the steamboat landing, he met two of Manfred’s brothers, Edwin and Theo. They had taken over the shipping company after the death of their parents and kept it going as a thriving business in Bayou Sara. After exchanging news of the family in Stoney Creek, Andrew boarded the steamboat to take him down river to New Orleans. He leaned over the railing and gazed at the banks of the mighty Mississippi River and the town of Bayou Sara. He’d read about the river in geography books, but to actually see the expanse of water took his breath away.
A shrill blast from the boat signaled they would be underway, and the gangplank was lifted and stored. The activity brought to mind the story Mrs. Whiteman had told him about the day the war stopped for the burial of a Union Navy captain who was also a Mason and desired a Masonic funeral service and burial. All fighting ceased that day to carry out the man’s wishes.
The memory served to reinforce Andrew’s belief that war didn’t have to take away man’s concern for others, and true courage came when enemies showed compassion and cared about one another. Maybe others called it a fantasy, but it was the United States he wanted to see.
An hour after a late lunch on board the boat they landed in New Orleans. Andrew stepped onto the dock and searched the crowd. Dr. Sutton had arranged for a buggy to pick him up and take him to the hospital, and in minute, Andrew spied a sign held high with his name printed on it. He strode toward the man and stopped.
“I’m Dr. Delmont. I believe you have a buggy waiting for me.”
The man nodded. “Yes, sir, right this way.” The driver led him to the waiting vehicle tethered in front of the steamship office.
A short time la
ter, Dr. Sutton greeted him in his office. “Come in, come in, young man. Dr. Whiteman has told me much about you in the wire he sent me.”
Andrew shook the man’s hand and followed him into his office. Dr. Whiteman had told Andrew that the Sisters of Charity had taken over the hospital in the 1830s and still ran it, but it was also one of the finest teaching hospitals in the South.
After going over what was to be expected in the next few days, Dr. Sutton informed Andrew that he’d be staying in the resident quarters at the hospital. With that said, the doctor stood and motioned for Andrew to follow him. “Let’s take a tour so you can see what we’re all about here. After that I’ll show you to your quarters.”
The tour lasted an hour with visits to all of the departments in the hospital. Andrew’s head swam with so many details and the magnitude of the services offered, from emergency treatments to pathology to a burn unit in addition to a well-equipped, fully up-to-date surgical unit. Despite the abundance of what he had to retain from the tour, Andrew determined to learn everything he could and be worthy of the trust Dr. Whiteman had put in him.
With a squeal of iron wheels on the tracks and a hiss of the engines, the train pulled into New Orleans, where an ambulance wagon waited to transport Stefan to the hospital. His escort from Fort Apache stood by his stretcher before the attendants loaded him onto the wagon.
“I have enjoyed these few days with you, Lieutenant Elliot. We all will be praying for your quick recovery.” He saluted then stepped back. “Have a safe trip.”
Stefan returned a somewhat clumsy salute with the bandages on his hands. “You have a safe trip back to the fort too, Corporal Dennis. I appreciated your company.”
The young soldier nodded then turned and headed for the train that would take him back through Texas and New Mexico to Arizona Territory.
Two attendants picked up the stretcher and placed it in the back of the ambulance. One stayed with him and the other climbed up front to drive them away. As much as Stefan loved New Orleans, this was not the way he would wish to visit.
Charity was a good hospital with its connection to the university and medical school. No doubt he’d get excellent care, but he’d much rather be at his home in St. Francisville. Mother could nurse him back to health and take care of his wounds, but it would be best to wait until he’d healed some before giving her that responsibility.
The short trip to the hospital turned out to be less stressful than the train ride. The road lay smooth beneath the wheels without the bumping and jostling usually expected with a wagon ride. After a dose of his pain medication, Stefan drifted off to sleep.
A beautiful woman ran toward him with arms outstretched and love glowing in her eyes. His Molly had come to him. As she drew nearer to him, the love changed to surprise and then to horror. Her eyes opened wide and her hand covered her mouth. He spoke to her, called her name, and reached out for her. She backed away with fear and pity replacing the glow once in her eyes.
Stefan jerked awake. His dream had become a nightmare when Molly saw his face. He lifted a gauze-covered hand to his head, where bandages covered the burns on the side of his face. His face would be scarred, no doubt about that, and he’d never let Molly see the scars. She deserved a whole man, not one with half a face and an almost useless hand.
He turned his head to the left on his pillow in an effort to get his bearings as to where he was with his one good eye. It had to be some kind of ward since he could see four other beds besides his between him and the doorway.
Then he remembered. Charity Hospital in New Orleans was his new home. White walls, white iron beds, and white furniture comprised his new quarters. As to how long he’d be here, he had no idea, but the bed was comfortable, especially after sleeping on a canvas cot so many days.
The door standing open revealed doctors and nurses as they hustled and bustled back and forth in the hallway. The medicinal odors of antiseptic and alcohol permeated the room and caused his nose to wrinkle. He’d better get used to it since he’d probably be here a while.
He started to turn away from the scene in the hallway, but a familiar figure stopped him. Two doctors stood in front of the door with their heads together discussing who-knew-what. Stefan squinted and peered more closely at the younger man. Andrew? It looked just like him. Impossible. Andrew was in Stoney Creek. He couldn’t be here in New Orleans. Stefan tried to call out, but his efforts produced only a raspy sound that even he couldn’t understand. The two men then proceeded down the hall and out of Stefan’s sight. He must be dreaming or hallucinating. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him again.
CHAPTER 28
STEFAN AWAKENED TO bright sunlight streaming through the window near his bed. He blinked and gazed at the ceiling. Everything from his waist up hurt. Then he remembered coming to the hospital. How long had he been asleep? Was this a new day or the same one? He raised his head slightly. Men in the other beds on the ward either sat on the edge of the bed or still lay flat. Pain once again throbbed in his face and he lay back on the pillow.
A nurse appeared by his side and smiled. “Good morning, Lieutenant Elliot. How are you this morning?”
He focused his one eye and the kindly face of an older woman became clear. She fluffed the pillow behind his head and straightened his sheets. “What day is this, nurse?”
“It’s Friday, July 13. You were brought in yesterday and have been asleep most of the time since then. We gave you quite a bit of medication so you wouldn’t feel your pain.”
“Morphine?”
“Yes. It does make the pain disappear.”
Stefan cringed. That may be true, but too much could be a bad thing. He never wanted to become dependent on it as he’d seen others do. He may hurt, but unless it grew much worse than this, he’d bear it without the drug.
“Your breakfast will be here shortly, and you really need to try and eat as much as you can since you missed supper last night.”
As if on cue, Stefan’s stomach rumbled and hunger pangs gripped him. “I’d welcome a good breakfast.” And a good cup of coffee. A few days had become like years since he’d enjoyed his morning brew.
A young woman entered with a cart loaded with trays. She placed one beside Stefan’s bed and then did the same for the others in the ward. His nurse grasped his arms. “Here, let me help you sit up.” When he raised his shoulders off the mattress, she arranged the pillows behind him to give him support to sit up and eat.
Pain once again shot through his shoulder and up into his neck then his face, but he fought it off. Stefan grabbed his fork and speared a slice of bacon. He savored the salty pork on his tongue before swallowing then shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. Not as good as those at home but a little better than a breakfast at the fort. He devoured the remainder of the meal and downed the hot coffee as though it were his last cup.
When the nurse returned, she laughed at his clean plate. “Well, I see your injuries didn’t damage your appetite any.” She removed the tray. “Do you want to remain sitting or lie back down?”
“I think I’d like to sit up for a while.” He’d been lying flat for so long that having his head up so he could look around better was a great relief.
A figure appeared at the door, and
Stefan swallowed hard. Not yet, it was too soon. His father strode across to Stefan’s bed with his mother right behind him. The shock and dismay in their faces caused Stefan to clench his teeth, but that sent pain to his neck and cheek. He attempted a smile.
“Hello, Father, Mother.”
His mother reached out her hand, but couldn’t find a place to touch him. She drew it back to her chest. “We came as soon as we could after receiving the wire that you were here.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
Exactly what he didn’t want, pity. His father’s mouth worked in a way that let Stefan know he searched for the words to convey his feelings. Finally he placed a hand on Stefan’s head.
“We’re proud of you, son. You fought valiantly against overwhelming odds.”
The words filled Stefan with hope that there would be no condemnation from his father. “I only did what I was trained to do, but I still lost some good men.”
“Yes, and that happens in battle. Your mother and I are thankful you are alive, and we intend to see that you get the best care available. We were shocked to find the extent of your injuries. We’ve made arrangements for you to be moved to a more private room this morning so true healing can begin.”
A smaller room would be nice. Already the coughing, moans, and snores from the other men had begun to irritate him. Then his attitude shamed him. He was fortunate to be in any hospital. “Thank you, but I don’t need another room. I’m fine here with these men. Some of them are in much worse condition than I am.”
His father frowned, as did Mother, but neither protested or tried to persuade him differently. Mother finally placed her hand over one of his bandaged ones. Tears still filled her eyes.
“Don’t cry, Mother. I’ll be all right.”
Love Never Fails Page 21
