The woman stood. “Don’t tell Dr. Talbot that.” Smiling at Therese, she lowered her voice and added, “He may be Polly’s cousin, but he couldn’t be more different if he tried.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Polly smiled in return.
“Don’t get me wrong,” the matron added. “He’s a good man with a good heart.”
Therese nodded, remembering Polly mentioning him when they’d met on the ferry.
Matron Webb wrinkled her nose. “He just has very different ideas about some things than we do—both as a Yankee and a Quaker.”
“Different?” Therese asked.
“Abrupt. Arrogant. A bit of a bully. But he’s a good doctor and a good man.” She smiled. “So we’ll keep him.”
Therese didn’t respond. Again she thought of how much her father admired the Quakers he’d known, and some had accused him of being arrogant too. She’d take what Matron Webb said with a grain of salt.
“Regardless of his beliefs, he is the best surgeon we’ve ever had.” Matron Webb tightened her apron as she spoke. “But he makes the water boys pump and carry boatloads of water, and he’s forever opening all the windows in the place. Still, we’re thankful he’s here.”
Polly nodded in agreement.
“Did you tell Therese the rules?” Matron asked.
“No,” Polly answered. “I thought they should come straight from you.”
The woman looked pleased. “No fraternizing with the patients. Care for them quickly and efficiently. Don’t encourage feelings toward you in any way. Appear as matronly as possible.” She looked Therese up and down, frowning as she did. “Do your best to look frumpy. No hoop skirts, which it appears you already know about. You’ll be given one meal per shift if there’s adequate food available. And you’ll do as you’re told and follow orders without complaint. Do you agree to follow these rules?”
“Yes, of course.” Therese hoped she’d be able to complete the tasks they assigned her. Being new, she had expected them to start her out doing something like laundry, but that clearly wasn’t the case. She knew she could sponge bathe and feed the patients, and administer medicine. She wasn’t as sure if she’d have the stomach to clean wounds and change dressings. She’d soon find out.
The woman opened a desk drawer and took out a piece of paper. “Here’s a pass for you to be out after curfew. The streets are well patrolled by soldiers, and none of our nurses have had a problem, but always travel in pairs after dark.”
She took the pass and thanked the woman.
As Polly and Therese started up the stairs, Polly said, “Even though Alec is my cousin, I only refer to him here as Dr. Talbot.”
“Of course,” Therese said, understanding the need to be as professional as possible.
Polly led the way to a large, deep closet halfway down the hall that had shelves on two sides that were filled with basins, sponges, cloths, and dressing material. A cistern sat on the third side. They each filled a basin, grabbed a sponge, and headed to a large room at the end of a long hall. Soldiers on cots filled the room. The smells were much stronger now.
The first soldier Therese bathed barely said anything, and she guessed he was on morphine. He’d lost his left arm at his elbow, and that side of his body was peppered with wounds that were thankfully all covered by bandages. He said he’d been in the hospital for more than a month.
Therese prayed silently as she washed his right side—for his healing, for his family, for his soul.
When she finished, he muttered, “Thank you.”
The next soldier chatted away. He had a wound on the side of the head, but it seemed to be healing. “I should be back in the battle in no time,” he said. “I just need a doc to release me.” The soldier was from North Carolina but had been fighting with the 1st Virginia Infantry.
“Do you know Warner Jennings?”
“Captain Jennings?”
“Yes,” Therese said. “He’s my brother.”
“I’m acquainted with him. He seems like a good man. His men respect him.”
A pang of longing settled in Therese’s chest. All she had were Mother and Warner. No aunts and uncles or cousins. There was just the three of them now. She hoped she and Warner would grow closer once the war was over.
She continued on with her work until the soldier from the 1st Infantry called out to a person standing in the doorway. “Doc!” he yelled. “Come take a look at me. I want out of here.”
A tall, lean man with a trim beard started across the room. He wore an apron over a white shirt, brown vest, and black pants. “Bucky, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.” The soldier pointed to the side of his head. “I need you to release me.”
The doctor stepped closer. “Let me take a look.” He placed one hand on the soldier’s chin and tilted his head, peering at the wound on the right side. “How have your headaches been?”
“I haven’t had any for the last two days. I’m telling you, I’m fit as a fiddle.”
The doctor pointed at a sign on the far wall. “How’s your vision?”
The sign read: Men Wanted, No Boys Need Apply, to Be Mustered Immediately.
The soldier read it with ease.
The doctor chuckled. “I’m afraid you may have that memorized.”
The young man grinned.
“Let him go.” Matron Webb stood in the doorway. “He wants to leave, and his fellow soldiers need him. There’s no rational reason to hold him back.”
The doctor ignored the woman and asked the soldier how his appetite had been.
“Great!” Obviously, the soldier was going to answer all of the questions in a positive light.
“How will you get back to the front line?” The doctor asked.
He shrugged. “I’ll find a way. Probably the train.”
“You’ll need someone to keep an eye on this,” the doctor said.
Polly stepped toward the two. She’d been listening also. “Michael’s working in the field hospital there,” she reminded him.
“Oh, yes.” The doctor turned toward her. “Lieutenant Michael Talbot.”
The soldier put his hand to the back of his neck. “I don’t know him.”
“He joined a couple of weeks ago.”
The soldier asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “Where was he before that?”
“France,” Polly answered. “Studying.”
“La-di-da,” the soldier said, but then he smiled.
“How was Michael’s time there?” Dr. Talbot asked, his familiar tone reminding Therese that this man was Polly’s cousin. “He was working on some new papermaking techniques, yes?”
“Yes,” Polly replied, “from sources other than rags. He also helped create a new kind of photography paper.”
“Interesting. He was in Lyon?”
“Yes. And Le Chambon, up on the Vivarais-Lignon Plateau.”
The doctor’s hazel eyes shone so vividly at the thought that the words popped out of Therese’s mouth before she could stop them. “Have you been to France?”
He turned toward her. “Yes, several years ago.” He reached out his hand. “I’m Dr. Alec Talbot, by the way.”
Therese shook his hand quickly. “Therese Jennings. I’m a friend of Polly’s.”
“Jennings. Any relation to Willis Jennings, the writer? I believe he’s from this area.”
Willis Jennings was her father’s name, but it took a moment for Therese to answer the question. She’d always thought of him as a teacher, but of course he had been a writer too. “Yes. He was my father.”
“Was?”
She nodded. “He passed in July.”
“My condolences.” Dr. Talbot’s expression fell, and he lowered his voice as he turned away from the soldier. “I met him a few years ago in Philadelphia, and I so enjoyed making his acquaintance. I was already familiar with his articles. What a blessing for you to have had a father of such high morals and intellect.”
Therese nodded again and struggled to fin
d her voice. “It was.”
Polly began chatting with the soldier.
Dr. Talbot continued to speak in a subdued voice. “His thinking matched mine in many ways—right and wrong. Black and white.”
Therese believed her father saw life in a much more nuanced way than that, but she didn’t feel comfortable contradicting the doctor.
“Not only was he an ardent abolitionist, but I remember he also supported women’s suffrage.” Dr. Talbot smiled, and it seemed he did too. “I recall him mentioning a daughter, one who excelled at academics.”
Therese’s face grew warm.
He whispered, “Do you have a sister?”
She shook her head.
“Well, then,” he said. “How delightful to meet the subject of a most enjoyable and memorable conversation. I’m honored.” He smiled. “We’ll talk more when we can. In the meantime, it’s good to have you here, Miss Jennings. Thank you for your help.”
“Of course,” she said, raising her voice a little. “Thank you for coming all this way. Your work is greatly appreciated.”
He dipped his head. “I’m grateful for your appreciation.”
He retreated from the room, passing Matron at the doorway without saying a word. Therese and Polly continued with their work until they heard a commotion from the bottom of the stairs and someone called up, “We need help down here!”
Polly said, “Let’s go.” They both dropped their sponges into the basins and headed for the stairs.
Dr. Talbot was in the foyer. A wounded soldier was on a stretcher on the floor, and two soldiers were bringing in another on a stretcher. The afternoon sun shone through the open back door, making it hard to see the soldiers’ faces. The one walking backwards turned around, and when he spoke she realized it was Michael.
Her heart started to race involuntarily, but then it lurched, remembering his newfound stance.
She wondered why he was here, as it seemed a long distance for him to bring the wounded, all the way from the vicinity of Petersburg. But then she noticed they were lieutenants. Polly had said this hospital was primarily for officers.
Michael’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, but then he cast them down and began to speak to Dr. Talbot. “This one took shrapnel in the chest. He may have a collapsed lung.”
“Michael!” Polly called out as she realized it was him.
“Michael?” Dr. Talbot echoed, looking surprised. “It’s been so long, I didn’t recognize you. I hear you’ve been off in France, working and learning with the Gillets?”
“That’s right.”
“Good to see you again. Though not under these circumstances. Let’s catch up later.” Dr. Talbot gestured toward the larger room to the left. “Get them in there. Nurses, go get more supplies—clean cloths, a basin of water, gauze, and bandages.”
“We have three more wounded.” Michael’s uniform was covered with blood, though he didn’t seem injured, so Therese assumed it wasn’t his own. Thank goodness.
“Get them in here quickly,” Dr. Talbot answered. As Therese and Polly hurried up the stairs, he called for orderlies to move the patients.
“Will we help with the wounded?” Therese felt light headed as she spoke.
“Probably,” Polly said. “You can watch to see what’s done so you can help next time.”
“All right.” Yes, all of this was far more intense than what she’d experienced nursing Father.
They worked on the wounded for the next three hours. Michael helped too, cutting off uniforms, cleaning out wounds, and dressing them. Polly seemed fascinated by the work and continually asked Dr. Talbot questions. He obliged her willingly, explaining what he was doing.
He and an orderly propped up the man with the collapsed lung so he could breathe. “Hopefully, the other lung isn’t compromised,” Dr. Talbot said.
Then he moved on to the next soldier. “This one will need surgery as soon as possible.” The man’s leg dangled at an odd angle. “Matron will need to assist me.” He glanced at Polly. “Next time I’ll have you do it. You’ll soon be ready.”
Polly nodded and seemed eager to take on more responsibility. Therese shivered, knowing she could never do anything like that.
As the time passed, Therese mostly just watched. She felt useless, and yet she knew she was learning through Dr. Talbot’s explanations and what she observed. She hoped, in time, she’d make a good nurse.
Eventually, Michael helped move the men who didn’t need surgery to the second floor, and Polly and Therese followed. Polly introduced him to Bucky, saying that Michael could give him a ride back.
“We’re not taking the train?” Bucky asked.
“No,” Michael said. “One of the tracks was bombed night before last.” Therese couldn’t imagine the railroad repair work that was constantly needed in war. “I came in a wagon.”
Bucky whooped. “I’m fit as a fiddle and looking forward to the ride. Let’s go.”
“Not yet,” Polly said. “Both of you need some supper.”
The girls served bowls of bean soup and thin slices of bread without butter. After they finished, Therese helped clean up and carry the dishes out to the kitchen on trays. An hour later, exhausted and ready to go, she couldn’t locate Polly. Finally, she found her on the loading dock of the building, in conversation with Michael and Dr. Talbot. They stopped in mid-sentence when she approached.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, taking a step back.
“No, it’s fine,” Dr. Talbot replied. “Would you believe Michael and I were still in short breeches the last time we saw each other?”
Michael nodded. “A family reunion, up near Fredericksburg. The two of us stole a cake out of the kitchen house and made ourselves sick eating the entire thing behind the barn.”
They all laughed, and then Dr. Talbot excused himself to get back to work.
“How’s Warner?” Therese asked, turning to Michael.
“He’s all right. I’ll tell him I saw you.”
“Thanks. Would you ask him to write Mother? As often as possible.”
Michael frowned a little. “He’s probably doing the best he can as it is, Therese. Paper is hard to come by. And energy…”
She nodded, realizing how she must have sounded. “Never mind. Just tell him hello and that I’m praying for him.”
“I’ll do that.” Michael stepped toward the door. “Next time I come, I’m using this loading dock.”
“Hopefully, there won’t be a next time,” Polly said.
“Unfortunately, there will,” Michael answered.
Polly lowered her voice. “Do you wish you would have stayed, you know, over there?”
“No. I’m exactly where I should be. Doing my part for the cause of our country, to save our way of life. I should’ve come home a lot sooner than this.”
Therese shuddered inside, again alarmed by Michael’s shift in ideology. Surprisingly, Polly didn’t seem bothered by it. Therese knew from numerous private conversations that her friend was against slavery, but, of course, under the circumstances, she wouldn’t contradict Michael in public.
Polly led the way back into the building, followed by Therese and then Michael. Dr. Talbot stood in the foyer, speaking with Matron Webb. When he saw them, he ended their conversation and then stepped toward Therese.
“It was so good to meet you, Miss Jennings. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He smiled warmly, and Therese responded in kind. In just one afternoon and evening, she’d come to respect him immensely.
The girls took off their bloody aprons and deposited them in the hamper in the closet, collected their wraps, and headed to the door. “Do you have an escort?” the doctor called out.
Polly answered, “We’ll be fine.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Michael said. Therese would have rather walked but didn’t say so.
When they reached his wagon, Bucky sat on the bench.
“In the back, soldier,” Michael told him, his voice light. “W
e’re giving the ladies a ride home.”
Bucky tipped his hat. “Yes, sir. Gladly.” He scampered into the back.
Michael helped Polly up into the wagon and then Therese. By the light of the streetlamp she could see into his kind brown eyes, and he smiled slightly. Therese wondered if he had any idea how disappointed she was in him.
Michael stopped at the Galloways’ townhouse first and helped Therese down. She said goodbye, but then he fell in step beside her as she started toward the row house.
“You have a long journey ahead of you, Michael. There’s no need to walk me to the door.”
“Of course there is.” Again his voice was light and easy. “My mother would be mortified if I didn’t treat you like the lady you are, the way she taught me to treat all women.”
Therese couldn’t help but wish he’d honor what her father had taught him too. Once they reached the porch, she quickly told him goodbye.
“Stay safe,” he said to her.
She nodded, but it was a funny thing for him to say, considering he was the one going off to the front line and she was simply teaching three little girls—and learning to take care of the wounded.
The truth was she didn’t feel very safe, though her new life didn’t feel scary either. It felt exhilarating, and so did the idea of getting to know Dr. Talbot better.
CHAPTER NINE
Nicole
We sat at Nana’s table in the sunroom going through the old family photos and having such a good time that when Aunt Cissy said she needed to leave, I realized I’d nearly forgotten what I’d come there for.
“Just one last thing,” she told us, reaching into the bottom of the box and pulling out a small stack of papers. “I stuck copies of these in here too. They’re little love notes that Therese’s husband wrote to her over the course of their life together.”
“Love letters?” I asked.
“Not letters. Just little notes. He would leave them for her to find.” Sliding her glasses up her nose, she read the top one aloud. “ ‘On the coldest of winter days, ’tis your smile that keeps me warm.’ ”
“Oh, how sweet,” Nana said.
“They really are. You’ll enjoy reading through them.” Aunt Cissy returned the pile to the box, added in the rest of the pictures, and then said she really, really had to get going. “Don’t worry about returning anything. As I said, these are extra copies.”
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