Cole's Promise

by Susan Macatee

  Only the surgeon, a few stewards, and the Women’s Aid workers had been left behind with the wounded. Men able to report back to duty had left with the others.

  Finally by noon, Claire was able to take a brief respite. Most of the men were loaded onto wagons by the stewards and some of the local men.

  Mrs. Benson addressed the women serving as nurses, telling them they’d no longer be needed here. They could either return to their homes or go south to assist in the Washington hospitals. Claire wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. With Cole gone and no one at home waiting for her, she was half tempted to take a post in Washington but wasn’t quite sure what she should do.

  As she half-heartedly munched on a leftover biscuit from this morning’s breakfast, Miss Kincaid approached, a scowl on her face. She sank into a chair and crossed her arms under her bosom.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, now,” she whined dejectedly. “All the soldiers have left camp, and now the others will be going to Washington.” She glanced at Claire. “What are you going to do?”

  Claire shook her head. “I haven’t yet decided. Perhaps I’ll go to Washington. There’s really nothing for me at home.”

  Miss Kincaid sighed. “It’s the same for me, too. All the men are off to war. I’d hoped…” She hesitated, a small smile playing about her lips. “…Lieutenant Manning was such a gentleman and so brave…I’d hoped…” She brushed her hands over her skirt. “I wish they hadn’t left so fast.”

  Claire stiffened. Had Cole set his sights on both of them…and how many others? She didn’t want to calculate. Maybe it was for the best that he’d left.

  “Had you spoken to the lieutenant?” Claire asked carefully, afraid of what Miss Kincaid would reveal.

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “He was polite of course, but we never really spoke. I’d just hoped…” She sighed. “But I suppose I should focus my thoughts on what I’m going to do now.”

  When she left, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge the man. But she still worried about where he’d gone and what dangers awaited him. The war was far from over and visions of Richard, the last time she’d seen him, still haunted her soul.

  After lunch, she returned to the hospital tent to aid Dr. Worley in packing supplies. As she stuffed a box with sheets and towels, his solid presence beside her, startled her.

  “I’d wondered, Miss Hirsch, what you planned to do after you leave here.”

  “Oh, I…I hadn’t thought so far ahead, but I suppose I should.”

  “A few of the nurses are heading to Washington to work in the hospitals.”

  “Is that where you’re going, Doctor?” She folded a sheet and placed it in the box.

  “No, ma’am. I’ll rejoin the company. I just had to stay behind until the wounded men were taken care of.”

  “Oh? And where did the company go?” Claire’s heart raced as she wondered if the doctor would tell her, or was he sworn to secrecy too?

  “The troops are amassing near Gettysburg. I hear tell Rebel troops are already in the state.”

  “In Pennsylvania?” A chill raced down Claire’s spine.

  “Yes, ma’am. Could be a battle coming.”

  Claire caught his gaze. “If you’re going there to tend to the troops, perhaps I could go with you.”

  He smiled. “Sorry, but orders are to only bring myself and the stewards left behind.” His gaze shifted to her face. “I don’t think you’d want to be anywhere near a major battle, Miss Hirsch.”

  “I suppose not.” She sighed and worried her hands in her apron. If Cole was at Gettysburg and a major battle erupted there, how could she go home or to Washington? She had to find a way to get to him.

  ****

  Gettysburg

  Cole squinted and held a sheet of paper and pencil closer to a lantern. Rebel troops had driven Union troops from the town, and his regiment had been forced to amass to the south. His company was stationed on a hill the locals called Little Round Top.

  Even though he had no chance of getting a letter off to Claire, he planned to write a goodbye note and carry it in his pocket in case he didn’t return from battle. He only hoped someone would get it to her, wherever she ended up.

  The thought of dying and never seeing her again pained him. When he’d left Hannah, he feared never returning to her, but now when he thought of her, he was glad she’d found love with someone else, as had he, once she’d freed him.

  Claire was so unlike his girl back home. He hoped he’d live long enough to find her again and properly court her.

  He signed and sealed the note, placing it in his inner coat pocket. He’d carry it against his heart throughout any battles that ensued tomorrow.

  “Lieutenant, sir.” Cole glanced up and peered through the smoke to see the shape of one of his men, although he couldn’t clearly make out the face in the dark beyond the fire.

  “Yes?” Cole stood and stepped around the ring of fire.

  “The captain says to be ready for battle in the morning. The Rebs are north of town but may be on the move.”

  “Thank you, Corporal.” Cole scrutinized the weary face of Miles Kenny. “Have Sergeant Mallory report to me here.”

  The corporal stood at attention. “Yes, sir.”

  Cole dismissed him and sat on the ground to wait on the sergeant.

  A few stars twinkled in the sky, and the moon was a pale outline. He wondered what the morning would bring.

  ****

  On the fourth of July, Claire sat on a camp stool and wiped her brow. She and the other nurses had helped get the wounded dressed for their trip south. Now, as the men loaded them onto stretchers and moved them into wagons to transport them to the train station, she and the other women had nothing left to do but help the doctor and stewards pack the remaining equipment and tents. Then the men would be moving on, leaving the women to decide their own fate.

  Claire had rejected the offer to accompany Mrs. Benson and several of the other nurses on a trip to Washington.

  Her fate lay elsewhere.

  “Have you heard the news?” Miss Kincaid plopped down beside Claire and fanned her face.

  “What news?” Claire asked. She focused on two men carrying one of her charges to the wagon, hoping they wouldn’t jostle the poor lad.

  “Why, about Gettysburg. It’s all over the town newspapers today.”

  “Gettysburg?” Claire’s heart raced.

  “Yes, a fierce battle waged there for the past three days, but the Union has persevered. The Rebels are heading south into Virginia.”

  Claire breathed a sigh of relief. “But you said the battle was fierce?”

  Miss Kincaid lowered her head. “A lot of our boys were killed, many more wounded. There’s a call out for doctors and nurses, or anyone who can supply help. The small town has apparently been overwhelmed.”

  Claire straightened. “Are you going?”

  “Heavens no!” Miss Kincaid shook her head. “The description in the paper is horrifying. All those dead men and horses. The wounded…” She shuddered. “I’m going home to Newark to start a ladies aid group. We’ll can preserves for all our brave fighting men.”

  Claire nodded.

  Miss Kincaid caught her gaze, a frown forming. “You’re from Philadelphia. Do you plan to go home or aid in the Washington hospitals?”

  “Neither.” Claire’s gaze followed the men loading the last patient onto the wagon. “If they’re calling for volunteers at Gettysburg, I’m going.”

  Chapter Six

  Gettysburg

  July 6

  Claire woke to the patter of rain on the canvas overhead. She’d hitched a ride with Doctor Worley to Gettysburg. With the battle officially over, he had no objection to her accompanying him, since the other nurses in camp had gone in different directions. She’d curled up in the back of the supply wagon after assisting the doctor and remaining stewards in packing the hospital tent and supplies. Although the surgeon couldn�
��t be many years older than she, he behaved as a protective father or uncle. She felt quite safe in his company.

  The wagon jostled over rural roads, and Claire longed for padding to cushion the jolts. She’d finally climbed onto a folded stack of blankets and fell fast asleep.

  Glancing toward the rear of the wagon, she noted the young steward—who shared her space in the wagon bed—had fallen asleep in the rear corner, sitting up with his cap covering his face. She wondered how far they were from the town. Opening her pocket watch, she realized she’d been asleep for four hours.

  Crawling toward the back of the wagon, she eased toward the opening, careful not to wake the lad. She located the slit in the canvas and widened it enough to peer out. Rain fell in buckets drenching everything. Heavy clouds draped the dulled, gray sky. But she could make out structures ahead.

  The wagon suddenly lurched to a stop, jerking the steward awake. His startled gaze caught Claire’s. He grasped his cap, pushing it back atop his head.

  “We there, ma’am?” he croaked.

  “I’m not sure,” Claire murmured.

  “Step out,” a baritone voice outside the wagon announced. “We’re going to set up here.”

  The steward jumped out, then reached up a hand to help Claire. She peered out, not liking what she saw. Mud everywhere. Bodies lay in piles and a dead horse, stinking of decay, lay right beside the wagon. She drew out her handkerchief and pressed it to her nose.

  Doctor Worley appeared at her side. “Come, Miss Hirsch.” He motioned beyond the muddy road toward a garden and stately house. “Doctor Roderick wants us to set up shop in here.”

  “Dr. Roderick?” Claire glanced toward the house. “Who is he? And just where are we?”

  Worley lifted his wet, wool sleeve for her to take his arm. “He’s with a regiment that was here during the battle, but he’s staying behind to treat the wounded not ready to be moved. His temporary hospital is set up in one of the local homes on the outskirts of town near the battlefield.”

  Claire swept her gaze over the landscape. “The battle was fought here?”

  “One of many,” Worley explained. “The field hospitals overflowed, so homes, churches, and other structures in town were requisitioned to serve the cause, so Dr. Roderick’s written me.”

  Worley led Claire toward the structure, while the stewards stayed behind to start unpacking the wagons. A man in a slouch hat and cape approached.

  “Worley.” His baritone voice was cultured. “Good to see you made it.” He strode toward them, holding out his hand to the doctor. After a firm shake, his gaze raked over Claire. “And who do we have here? You didn’t tell me you were bringing any women volunteers.”

  “Miss Hirsch,” Worley said, “I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Roderick.”

  “Miss Hirsch.” The doctor lifted her hand and bowed over it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Claire inclined her head. “Doctor.”

  “But come…” Roderick gestured toward the house. “Let’s go inside, and then we’ll get better acquainted. I’d love to know what brings you to Gettysburg.”

  “Of course, Doctor.” Claire nodded at Worley, and they followed Roderick toward the structure.

  The house was a three-story set off from the main road. A wide porch graced the front of the house and around one side. A woman stepped out and greeted the trio.

  “Mrs. Densler,” Roderick said, “I’d like to introduce Dr. Worley and Miss Hirsch. They’ll be assisting me here until we can stabilize our patients and send them on.”

  Worley removed his hat.

  Claire smiled at the stout, gray-haired woman.

  She gestured toward the open door. “Welcome, all of you. This is my home, and the doctor and I can use all the help we can get.”

  Claire detected a mild German accent. She lifted her skirts and preceded the men inside.

  Groans and muffled voices greeted her as she stepped into the entry hall.

  Mrs. Densler nodded toward the open parlor door. “We have a few men in there, and the others are in the bedrooms upstairs. I spend most of my time in the kitchen preparing meals, but assist Dr. Roderick when I’m able. My two daughters help as well.”

  “I see.” Claire noted the scents of strong antiseptics but didn’t detect the smell of unwashed bodies and human waste she’d grown used to in her months spent in camp.

  “Sit down, my dear.” Mrs. Densler gestured toward a straight-backed chair in the hall that sat against the staircase leading to the second floor. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from your trip. I’ll get you both something to refresh you.”

  Dr. Worley smiled. “Thank you, ma’am, but I really need to supervise my stewards. You can get something for Miss Hirsh, though. I’m sure you’ll take good care of her, while I’m occupied.”

  “But, Doctor, shouldn’t I help?” Claire protested.

  “The lads should do the heavy lifting. You can help sort things out once we get them inside.” Worley replaced his hat and glanced at Dr. Roderick.

  “I’ll see to Miss Hirsch, then be out to assist you.”

  Worley nodded and left the house.

  Mrs. Densler waved a hand toward Dr. Roderick. “I’ll see to Miss Hirsch, Doctor. I’ll take her to the kitchen and make her a cup of tea. You go ahead and help your friend.”

  Roderick caught Claire’s gaze.

  “Yes, go ahead, Doctor, I’m quite sure Mrs. Densler will take excellent care of me.” She nodded at her hostess.

  The doctor frowned but inclined his head. “I’ll be back shortly, Miss Hirsch. I want to hear all about how you came to be with Dr. Worley.” His dark gaze raked over her, and she caught more than casual interest in his eyes.

  He strode toward the door.

  Mrs. Densler grasped Claire’s arm. “Come, dear. We’ll have a nice cup of tea and get to know one another.”

  Claire nodded and followed the woman to the kitchen.

  Over a steaming cup of tea, Claire learned Mrs. Densler was a widow with two grown daughters who hadn’t yet married. Both of them had been courted by men who were now in the army.

  “My girls are so proud of the lads, but I worry they may not return. The girls would be heartbroken.” She glanced at Claire’s hand poised on the handle of her tea cup. “Do you have a suitor in the army, dear?”

  Claire lifted her hand, clenching her fist. “I-I was engaged to be married to a man in the army, but he was killed at Bull Run.”

  Mrs. Densler’s eyes widened. “Oh, my poor dear, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  Claire nodded. “Thank you for your kind sentiments.”

  “But, tell me, how did you come to be with the army?”

  Claire sighed. “Well, I had joined a ladies aide group in Philadelphia to aid the war effort, but after Richard was killed…I couldn’t stand just sitting at home with no purpose.” She straightened in her seat. “I decided to go out into the field to aid the soldiers still fighting and ended up at an army camp. Wounded soldiers needed nursing, so I learned how to care for them.” She shrugged. “When the army moved on, I had no place to go. So when I heard about the call for help at Gettysburg and learned Dr. Worley had been assigned to go here, I asked if I could accompany him.”

  Mrs. Densler nodded. “We’re such a small town, and this battle has drained our limited resources, I’m afraid.”

  Claire leaned forward. “Tell me what it was like during the battle?”

  Her hostess went into detail about the two armies converging on their quiet town and the ensuing battle. “We hid in the cellar, fearing our home would collapse on top of us.” She shuddered. “Then when we felt it safe to emerge, the carnage was terrible. My two girls had a hard time, knowing their young men were dealing with the same thing down south.”

  “War is horrible,” Claire agreed.

  Mrs. Densler nodded. “And I’m sure you’ve seen your share of it too, living in an army camp.”

  Claire smiled. “I’d never realized ho
w hard it would be, but it did take my mind away from my grief over Richard…and also gave me a hint of what he went through before his death.”

  By the time the men had the house ready to be used as a hospital, Claire and Mrs. Densler had grown close enough to be mother and daughter. Relief that she’d have a solid roof over her head tonight, instead of canvas, comforted Claire. She would have to sleep on a cot, though, since the beds in the house were already spoken for. But after living in the field for over a month, the inconvenience was hardly a problem.

  After a filling meal of chicken and dumplings, Claire retired to sleep in the attic with Mrs. Densler’s two daughters. A few years younger than Claire, the young women were a bit overwhelmed with the situation thrust upon them while all of their men were away.

  Too exhausted to share much in conversation, Claire drifted swiftly to sleep.

  She woke the next day after a series of uneasy dreams. Cole stood on a battlefield waving his sword as Rebels fired into his company. She saw his face clearly, then he dissolved beneath a cloud of smoke. She woke calling his name.

  Mrs. Densler’s older daughter, Millie, sat up on her cot, watching Claire.

  “You were calling someone,” she explained, loosening her wheat colored hair from its braid. “It sounded like Cole.”

  Claire’s face heated as she sat up. “Yes. He was a soldier I met in camp. A lieutenant.”

  Millie’s sister, Dara, rose and stretched. “An officer.” She sighed. “Is he here in Gettysburg, too?”

  “Ah…” Claire hesitated. “His regiment is, so I suppose he is too. I just haven’t heard from him since he left about a week ago.”

  “My beau was in Vicksburg last I heard. I wish he’d been here so I could’ve at least seen him and cared for him if he was wounded.” Dara nodded toward her sister. “Her beau is somewhere down south, too. Isn’t he?”

  Millie shrugged. “Last he wrote, he was moving, but promised to write once he got there. Haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “So, tell us about your lieutenant.” Dara’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m sure he’s very handsome.”