“What is it, dear?”
“Could I speak to you privately?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Winters looped her arm through Rose’s, and together they walked a few feet away from the men.
Rose glanced toward the judge, endeavoring to keep her voice low. “We should call this off. Jack obviously doesn’t want to be here.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Winters said firmly. “This was Jack’s idea.”
Rose bit her lower lip, uncertainty muddling her thoughts. This was all so confusing. She didn’t know what to do.
“You see,” Mrs. Winters said brightly. “There he is now.” She stepped away from Rose and waved. “Jack, you made it! We were beginning to worry.”
Rose’s heart jumped clear to her throat as she spun toward the heavy footfalls striding along the marble floor.
“Sorry I’m late,” his deep, melodic voice resonated through the hall.
Her breath caught briefly as she beheld the man she was about to marry. By all appearances he’d come straight from his work. He wore charcoal trousers and a matching vest with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up just below the elbows. His necktie was loosened and askew and he had no waistcoat with him. It amazed her how completely different Jack and Paul were. With sandy hair and warm brown eyes, both sported devastating good looks and an athletic physique, however, the similarities ended there. Paul had had a certain swagger about him… never a hair out of place, he’d always dressed to the nines and had an infectious love for fun and mischief. Jack on the other hand was much more serious, with an unassuming mannerism and a kindness that suited his chosen profession well.
“There was an emergency with one of the soldiers.” He explained, stopping beside them. He rolled one of his shirt sleeves down and fastened it at the cuff.
“Nothing serious I hope?” his mother inquired.
“No, no. Nothing life-threatening.” He fixed his other shirt sleeve. “A broken wrist is all.”
“That’s a relief.” Mrs. Winters motioned toward Judge Peterson. “Shall we get started?”
The judge offered a kindly smile. “Just step into my chambers and we’ll get you lovebirds on your way.”
Lovebirds… oh, heavens.
Stomach churning, Rose glanced up to Jack, their eyes met briefly, and she was surprised to find boyish nervousness reflected back at her. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, anger or resentment perhaps, but it wasn’t there. Instead she glimpsed the compassionate man who’d held her in his arms the day of the funeral. Jack had become her anchor that day and he was about to vow to be her anchor until death do them part.
It was a heady moment.
Jack cleared his throat, seemingly oblivious to her intense thought. He offered her his arm. “We’re not in a church so I’m not sure how this is supposed to work.”
Rather than take his arm, however, she stepped forward on pure impulse and reached up to straighten his crooked necktie. “Thank you,” she whispered, fingers lingering at his throat. “You didn’t have to do this, and… I… I don’t know what to say other than… Thank you.”
Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity and a wealth of emotions flitted across Jack’s handsome features. Confusion… anger… sadness… It occurred to Rose that he was totally at war with himself. After several moments his eyes grew cold and he grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from his collar. “Let’s be clear,” he said in a low gruff tone. “I’m not doing this for you.” Releasing her arms, he stepped away and followed his parents into Judge Peterson’s chamber.
Devastation and shame enveloped Rose like a cold fog. She wrapped her arms around herself and swallowed back tears of misery. What have I done? She cast a longing gaze toward the courthouse doors tempted to bolt. Looking back to the judge’s chamber she drew a long, steadying breath, and briefly touched a hand to her abdomen. She knew what she had to do.
Really, she had no other choice.
Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to move forward. Life was a result of one’s choices… a cascade of consequences… some good and some bad. Today she would become Mrs. Jack Winters. It was both a choice and her consequence. Unfortunately, she had the sinking sensation it may not be one of life’s happier consequences.
Three
South Carolina
June, 1865
“The war’s been over for almost two months, Doc. Why haven’t you made your way home yet?”
Jack glanced up from the leg wound he was examining. It was a question he heard daily. “You can’t think I’d leave you boys in the hands of those Yankee surgeons,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light. This particular young soldier, Tom Newman, had been through hell.
“You got anybody waitin’ for you back home?” Tom inquired. “A wife or a girl?”
Jack cleared his throat, busying himself with the examination. “Uh, not particularly,” he replied evasively. It was the truth he supposed. Rose probably wasn’t any more eager for his homecoming than he. In truth, Jack had volunteered to help with transporting the wounded from both Army’s in order to prolong his absence from home.
“What do you think, Doc, am I going to live?”
Jack stared down at the leg, lost in thought. The truth was he didn’t want to go home at all. He had no idea what to expect once he got there… married to a woman he scarcely knew… expected to play papa to a child that wasn’t his…
“Doc?”
Jack snapped his head up, realizing suddenly that Tom had been speaking to him. “So sorry, Tom, what were you saying?”
The boy swallowed nervously and glanced down at his wounded thigh. “You look mighty worried, Doc, is it my leg?”
“Oh, yes,” Jack blurted.
Tom instantly paled.
“I mean, no!” Jack shook his head. “It’s not your leg, Tom. Forgive me, I misspoke. Your wound is healing well.” He forced a reassuring smile. “You’ll be home in no time. You may limp a bit, but otherwise I’ve no doubt you’ll live to a ripe old age.”
Tom’s relief was palpable. “Thanks, Doc. Do you think the ladies will like the limp?”
“Without a doubt, Tom. All the belles will find your limp dashing.” Jack winked.
Tom grinned, looking rather pleased by the prospect.
Jack smiled in return and motioned for a nearby nurse. “Miss Hathaway, would you please re-dress Corporal Newman’s wound?”
The nurse smiled prettily and sashayed over, full skirts swishing. “Of course, Dr. Winters.”
“The wound is healing well. I’d like you to continue the twice daily dressing changes, and let me know if there is any new bleeding or foul drainage.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Nurse Hathaway gazed up at him with a droll smile on her perfectly pink lips. An invitation twinkled plain as day in her clear blue-green eyes. She was a pretty thing, even in the drab gown and pinafore that made up her nursing uniform.
Familiar anger welled up inside him. He would have liked to call on this pretty nurse sometime, on any number of the pretty nurses he’d met over the last few years, but he wasn’t free to do so. The freedom to choose, to have his own life, had been stripped away by family duty and honor.
The girl gazed up at him expectantly, as though hoping he’d say more… offer to walk her home or some other such romantic gesture.
Jack swallowed back the temptation to do just that. “That’ll be all,” he said dismissively.
Disappointment flashed across Nurse Hathaway’s face, but with an efficient nod, she shifted her attention to Tom—who appeared more than pleased by the feminine attention.
Jack turned away, trying to quell the bitterness that built each day his homecoming drew nearer. He was mere miles from home and rapidly running out of excuses to stall. Finished with his morning rounds, he strode through the wards, nodding to several of the ragtag men as he went by. A few read books or old letters, others chatted or played cards. All were eager to go home.
Not Jack.
After all that
had transpired before he’d left for the war, and now in the aftermath of it, he didn’t feel he had a home to go back to. His home had shattered with Paul’s death four years ago.
He stopped suddenly, staring at the remnants of a rebel flag laid across the foot of a cot at the far end of the ward.
What if I don’t go back?
A shiver ran along his spine as the thought flashed suddenly through his head, and then began to take shape.
Countless men had perished in battle without a name to pin on the body. No word would ever get back to those families. Their boys would simply never come home. What if Jack was one of them? What if he moved west and changed his name? Eventually everyone would assume him dead, and he could simply fade into oblivion.
It was the perfect solution. Rose and Paul’s child would have the protection of his name, and Jack would have his freedom. He glanced over his shoulder, turning toward the general’s office. The sooner he made arrangements to go west and disappear the better.
* * * *
“I have a good feeling about this hospital, Rose. Mark my words I think we’ll find him here.”
Rose smiled weakly at her mother-in-law. Catherine’s optimism was admirable, if misguided and utterly futile. There’d been no word of Jack in years. The heartbreaking truth was that he was never coming back, but, however obvious the fact may seem to Rose, her mother-in-law fiercely refused to accept it. Catherine had taken to searching every army hospital within riding distance, firmly believing her son was either an injured patient or caring for the wounded as a physician.
“I know you think it’s foolhardy to keep looking,” Catherine said softly. “Jonathan would agree with you.”
Rose sighed. “I just hate to see you so heartbroken every time we leave a hospital without finding him.”
Catherine nodded, a glimmer of defeat in her eyes. “I just can’t bring myself to believe he’s not coming back.” She drew a shuddering breath. “He never wrote, you know.”
Rose did know.
“Not one letter. The truth is I lost him before he left for the war.” She glanced empathetically at Rose. “I never wanted you to know, but I pushed him to marry you. It wasn’t his idea.”
Rose didn’t say anything, she’d long suspected the fact.
“I made him feel so guilty for refusing to help,” Catherine continued. “Now I can’t imagine never having the chance to make amends for it.”
Rose linked her arm companionably through Catherine’s as they stepped into the shadow of the looming hospital. Rose didn’t have the heart to rain on Catherine’s dream. Not when she and the colonel had been so very good to her over the years. The least Rose could do is accompany her mother-in-law on this fool’s errand, and be there to pick up the pieces when reality finally hit. “Once we’re inside you go to find the matron, and I’ll start inquiring within the wards.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
Quelling a heavy sigh Rose mentally steeled herself and strode with Catherine into the hospital. They parted once inside and Rose shuddered as the stench of sickness and rotting flesh enveloped her. No matter how many hospitals they visited she never quite got used to the foreboding smell. Sadness all but overtook her as she moved slowly through the front hall. She was no stranger to the sick and infirm, she’d helped her father in his medical practice for many years, but the sheer volume of wounded men she’d seen in the last few weeks was staggering.
A few orderlies and a man hobbling about on crutches glanced in her direction as she moved through the hall toward what she assumed was a patient ward.
“Hello, Miss.” A young woman in a nurse’s garb intercepted Rose as she approached the door. “I am Nurse Hathaway. Is there something I can assist you with?”
“Yes, thank you.” Rose smiled. “I am looking for a man, my husband actually, Dr. Jack Winters.”
The girl’s eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Your husband? Doctor Winters is married?”
Caught off guard by the woman’s back-handed affirmation of Jack’s presence in the hospital, Rose glanced around the ward. “H-he’s here?” His mother would be ecstatic.
The young nurse looked Rose up and down with a critical eye. “Yes, but he’s never mentioned being married before.”
Rose’s flash of excitement shriveled. Of course he hadn’t. She swallowed back the stark reminder that she and Jack might be legally married, but they were hardly husband and wife. “Well, he is,” she replied, tone curt to mask her insecurity. “Kindly let me know where I can find him or direct me to someone who can.”
The girl lifted her chin and glared at her with thinly veiled jealousy. Little did this nurse realize that there was nothing between Rose and Jack for her to envy. After a few tense moments the other woman motioned for Rose to follow.
Rose’s hands began to shake as one-hundred emotions crashed down around her. She’d never expected to find Jack. Deep down she’d believed him dead for some time now. How would he react once he saw her? She was fairly certain he wouldn’t be pleased. Maybe another Dr. Winters was present in this very hospital… or maybe enough time had passed that Jack would forgive her. Rose followed silently behind the pretty nurse as she weaved through the hospital wards.
“Nurse Hathaway,” a man in physician garb called from across the ward. “Come here for a moment, I need your assistance.”
The nurse stopped and turned slightly. “I’ll be right there, Doctor.” She flicked a cool gaze back to Rose. “Continue through this ward. When you reach the doors at the opposite end, take a right. I last saw your husband in the ward at the end of the hall.”
“Thank you,” Rose mumbled. Swallowing hard, she put her back to the hostile young woman and continued tentatively through the ward. She kept her head low, avoiding eye contact, yet covertly scanning every face she passed.
No Jack.
The large door at the back of the ward loomed and she picked up the pace, placing her hand on the smooth wooden door frame. She scurried around the corner, and collided headlong with a solid wall of flesh.
“Oh!” Rose reeled backward, grasping at the air, desperate for any handhold before she toppled onto her backside.
Strong arms banded around her waist. “Whoa there,” a deep voice rumbled, swinging her up and into his steadying embrace. “It’s not every day I have the good fortune to have a beautiful woman fall into my arms.”
Rose’s heart skipped a beat and heat burned in her cheeks as her palms settled against the toned flat of his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured a little breathlessly. “I—” Disconcerted and embarrassed she turned her face up to her rescuer and found herself gazing into eyes as dark and smooth as melted chocolate. In that moment she could have melted right into those beautiful eyes. Her heart skipped and her mouth dried. Only two men of her acquaintance had eyes of such decadent brown, and one of them was no longer among the living. “Jack,” she whispered, curling her fingers around the edge of his vest. “I-I can’t believe it’s you.”
Confusion clouded his handsome face, and his teasing smile slipped as shock eclipsed any lingering friendliness in his expression. “Rose!” He released her like a hot coal and took a healthy step backward. “What are you doing here?” He glanced around in obvious disbelief.
Shaken and a little hurt by his reaction, Rose glanced over her shoulder hoping Catherine would suddenly appear and break this uncomfortable moment. “Looking for you,” she explained, looking back into his face. “Your mother is here, too.”
Thunder darkened his expression. “Heaven help me,” he muttered, washing a palm over his jaw. Shaking his head, he stepped hastily around her. “You shouldn’t have come,” he growled. “You should have left well enough alone.”
Four
“Left well enough alone?” Rose echoed in obvious confusion.
Jack ignored her and stormed through the ward, fists clenched at his side. What a stroke of wretched luck.
“What do you mean by that?”
Sile
ntly he fumed. What were the odds that Rose would turn up at the hospital the day he planned to leave for Texas? Her presence ruined everything. Everything!
“Jack?” Rose called from behind him. “Please stop. What do you mean?”
Several eyes flicked toward them.
Struggling to get a handle on himself before the two of them created a total scene, he sucked in a ragged breath and ground to a halt. Slowly he turned and stepped close to Rose. “Find my mother and wait outside,” he instructed in a low but abrupt tone. “I have a few patients left to round on and I will meet up with you once I’ve finished for the day.”
Expression apprehensive Rose hesitated before inclining her head in a simple nod, and quitting the ward with her eyes fixed on the floor.
Jack ignored the curious stares cast in his direction, and tried to remember just what he’d been on his way to do. Turning curtly on a heel, he marched in the opposite direction, planning to find a quiet corner to gather his thoughts and fume
“Winters!” A jovial voice called just before Jack managed to escape the ward. He recognized his friend Kyle Johansson’s voice. “I hear the comely blonde that showed up looking for you is your wife.”
Jack glared irritably at Johansson. “Word travels fast.”
“How is it that in all the years we’ve known one another you’ve never once mentioned having a wife?” Johansson slung a friendly arm over Jack’s shoulders as they exited the ward and turned into the deserted hallway where Jack had collided with Rose just moments before. “I tell you, Jackie, I’m hurt.”
Jack shrugged his arm off. “Not much to tell.”
Johansson raised a skeptical brow. “I find that very hard to believe.”
Jack shrugged. “We didn’t part on the best of terms,” he offered, hoping the response would be enough for Johansson to drop the subject.
His friend seemed to catch the hint, and his mannerism sobered. “I tell you what, Jackie, if I had a woman like that show up looking for me, I’d make things right real quick.”
Winter's Rose Page 2
