“What in the world is going on?” she cried, and then she darted forward, her hoop skirt swinging against the cots and smacking the soldiers lying on them.
“Stop!” Dr. Talbot ordered, but she just kept coming.
“Miss Helene, stop!” Polly yelled. “Get back to the door. Your hoops are hitting the patients!”
Finally, Mother seemed to hear. She froze, her face a mix of agony and confusion.
“Miss Helene, you could hurt someone,” Polly explained. “Or knock something over.”
Therese’s face grew warm. Mother could be so impossible. She started to retreat, slowly.
Dr. Talbot returned to his work. “I’m almost done,” he muttered.
Warner writhed in pain. “Thank goodness.”
“Are you all right?” Mother called out. “I’ll get you home as soon as possible and have Dr. Landers take care of you. Badan and I can drive you back tomorrow.”
Warner groaned. “Is she crazy?”
“No,” Therese said. “Just obtuse.” She didn’t add that their mother’s anxiety, which had begun when Father fell ill and grown even worse with Grandfather’s death, would likely reach new heights now, thanks to Warner’s injury. Therese couldn’t fault their mother for being fearful. It was understandable during such times. She just wished the woman had enough fortitude to toughen up and rely on her faith instead of her emotions.
Warner gritted his teeth again. “How did you ever convince her to let you come to Richmond?”
Therese hesitated, not wanting to go into it at the moment. “I didn’t,” she said finally, a hint of defiance in her voice. Warner seemed to understand.
A quick smile crossed his lips, and he squeezed her hand again, though this time more from affection—perhaps even respect—than pain. Her heart warmed at his kindness, something she hadn’t seen much in him before.
“I doubt Dr. Landers can give me any better care than I’m getting here,” he said.
“I know he can’t,” Therese replied. “Michael brought you to the best surgeon in the South—even if he is a Northerner.”
Warner groaned again and lifted his head. “A Yank’s working on me?”
Dr. Talbot barked, “Don’t move.”
Therese put her other hand on Warner’s shoulder to keep him still. “He really is the best. And at least he’s a Talbot,” she added. “A cousin of Michael and Polly’s, descended from good ol’ Emmanuel himself.”
Once Dr. Talbot was finished, Polly offered to stay with Warner so Therese and the doctor could speak with Mother. Therese looked over at the doorway, where her mother was standing a step inside the room, her skirt blocking the way. Matron Webb was behind her, trying to get past. The matron finally asked her to move.
Dr. Talbot washed his hands, dried them on a towel, and motioned for Therese to lead the way. When they reached the door, she took her mother by the elbow and led her farther down the hall and then gave her a quick hug and introduced her to the doctor.
At the name Talbot, Mother’s face softened with relief. “A relation of Stephen and Amanda’s?” she asked.
“Yes. Not a close relation, but we both trace back to the same Huguenot ancestors.”
“Remember, Mother?” Therese added. “That day on the ferry? Polly told us how her cousin had come down to help at the hospital?”
Mother’s smile disappeared. “Oh, yes. From somewhere… up north.”
“Maine,” he offered.
Mother’s lips pursed in distaste, as if he’d uttered a profanity. “And why are you caring for my son?”
Therese’s cheeks grew warm. “Dr. Talbot is an excellent surgeon, Mother.”
Before she could reply, the doctor simply launched into an explanation of the injury, the surgery, and now the treatment. “Only time will tell what the outcome will be.”
“Yes,” Mother replied. “Back home. We’re better equipped to care for him there than here.”
Dr. Talbot didn’t respond. Therese rolled her eyes and then hooked her arm through Mother’s. “Let’s get these hoops off you so that you can see Warner.”
“Can’t you move the cots?” Mother asked.
“No, we can’t.” Therese pulled her mother down the hall and directed her into the nurses’ quarters. She then helped her take her skirt off, removed the hoops, and helped her dress again.
“I feel practically naked.” Mother straightened her skirt.
“We went without hoops all the time back at the cottage.” Therese opened the door. “You didn’t mind then.”
“Well, it’s been a while since I had to weed a garden or cook over a hot stove. I’ve grown accustomed to wearing them again.”
Therese didn’t respond. “How is Aggie?”
“Fine.”
“Who’s in charge back at River Pines?”
“Mr. Porter, of course.”
Therese stepped into the hall. “Why don’t you let him go?”
Mother shrugged. “He’s only working for room and board.”
“But there aren’t any crops, Mother. What’s the point?”
“He does handyman-type work around the place—and over at the Talbots’ too. Most importantly, though, he oversees the servants. Otherwise they might run off.” Now that Mother was a single white woman living alone, the Twenty-Slave Law allowed for her to keep an overseer even though she had less than twenty slaves, with no need for him to work at other plantations anymore.
Therese decided to change the subject. “I have good news. Dr. Talbot has arranged for you to stay with friends of his. They have space for Badan too.”
“Oh?”
“Unless you have another plan,” Therese said.
“Taking Warner home is my plan.”
“Mother, you can’t. He may need more surgery.” She’d seen several soldiers who’d had to have more of their stumps amputated. “Plus, Dr. Talbot has the best rate of curing infections of any doctor in Richmond.”
“Goodness, you sound as if this man is some sort of savior.”
“No,” Therese answered. “But he is a good doctor. You’d be foolish to take Warner away from here.”
Mother made a noise of disagreement but didn’t say anything more. When they reached the ward, Therese told her to wash her hands. Mother protested, saying they were clean, but Therese insisted.
Soon they were making their way between the cots to Warner. Polly sat at the end of the bed, redoing the dressing. Mother gave her a distracted nod and then sat on the stool beside her son.
“Warner?” she asked softly. “It’s Mother. I’m here now.”
His eyes fluttered, but he didn’t open them.
“He just had a dose of morphine,” Polly told her. “He’ll probably sleep for a while.”
Mother sighed heavily. “You can’t imagine how I felt when Michael told me. Auntie Vera brought him into the parlor, and right away I knew something had happened to Warner. Michael sat beside me and held my hand while I cried.” She swiped at her eyes, and Therese put an arm around her.
“He couldn’t stay long, even though I begged him to. Once he was gone, I had to sit there all by myself while Auntie Vera finished pulling my things together.”
“Mother.” Therese couldn’t help it. “You’re perfectly capable of packing a bag.”
“But it’s so nice to have help. I’d forgotten how comforting it is.”
Therese caught Polly’s gaze but refrained from rolling her eyes again. She turned back to her mother. “Did you send food with Michael for the troops? A box of apples? A bag of potatoes?”
“Oh, I meant to,” Mother said. “Perhaps he asked Auntie Vera or Aggie.”
“Did he leave before you did?” Polly asked.
“Yes. He said he needed to get back.”
Polly sighed. “He must have been tired.”
“He didn’t seem so. Not particularly anyway.” Mother waved her hand, as if dismissing Polly’s concern. “He’s young.” She directed her attention back toward Warner,
saying his name and then, “Son, please wake up.”
Therese pursed her lips. Mother’s lack of empathy concerned her. She seemed to be becoming more and more centered on herself and less concerned about others. Even so, didn’t she realize the kind of pain Warner was in?
Mother stood and turned toward the end of the cot. For a moment Therese thought she was going to go look at Warner’s wound, but instead she said, “Polly.”
“Yes?” Polly kept working.
“Don’t you think I should take Warner home and have Dr. Landers look after him?”
Polly’s head jerked up, her eyes wide. “Absolutely not! In fact, Miss Helene, you would have to do it over my dead body.”
Mother scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not,” Polly said. “If you want to lose your boy, by all means put him in a buggy and bounce him over miles of rough roads. Then trust him to a doctor who’s never treated a shrapnel wound in his life, let alone an amputation.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared Mother down. “On the other hand, if you want Warner to have the best chance he can, you’ll keep him here.”
Mother didn’t respond. Instead, she sat back down in the chair and took Warner’s hand in hers. Finally, she said, “I guess I’ll take Dr. Talbot up on staying with his friends—at least for tonight.”
After supper, Therese found Badan on the loading dock, helping with a wagonful of supplies, and told him that he’d be staying at the Corbett home with Mother.
“Yes’m.”
“She’ll be ready to go in a few minutes,” Therese added. “Dr. Talbot will ride along and make the introductions.”
He tipped his hat. “I’ll go get the buggy, then.”
Therese and Polly told Mother goodbye in the foyer, and then Therese thanked Dr. Talbot for his care and kindness.
“I’m happy to help your family.” He stepped closer to her. “How long will you stay tonight?”
“Polly and I will leave within the hour. I’ll come back late tomorrow afternoon.” She didn’t think the Galloways would object.
“Very good. I’ll see you then.” His eyes were filled with concern. “In the meantime, our prayers for Warner will not go unheard.”
“Thank you.” Her heart raced. She knew the situation was dire, but Dr. Talbot’s care for Warner—and for her—gave her strength.
As Therese started toward the stairs, she saw Polly step closer to Dr. Talbot and then brush against his hand. Surprised, Therese hesitated for a moment—she was sure Polly had slipped the doctor a piece of paper—and then continued on to the second floor.
She thought about that for the next hour as she and Polly finished administering the medications. Something odd had transpired in that hallway between the two cousins, something suspicious, almost covert. Almost… like two spies, passing a message between them.
Startled at the thought, Therese looked across the room at her best friend, who was helping a soldier swallow his medicine. Polly, who was always so brave, so self-assured. Who had always believed slavery was wrong, and that the strong should stand up for the weak. Who had strange conversations with Dr. Talbot about left lobes and right arteries and tourniquets and more. Was it possible that the two of them had been speaking in some sort of code? Right there in the midst of injured soldiers and hospital workers, could they have been using medical terms in place of logistical ones?
Therese’s heart pounded at the thought.
She was able to bring it up a short while later, once she made a final check on Warner and she and Polly started out for home. The evening was dry and cool, but not cold, and the streets mostly quiet as usual.
Therese waited until they’d gotten past the capitol grounds and turned onto Grace Street before she linked her arm through her friend’s and spoke softly into her ear.
“What’s going on?”
“About?”
“That piece of paper you slipped Dr. Talbot tonight.”
No reaction.
“The odd accounts you give him about wounded soldiers,” Therese added. Then she simply stayed quiet, waiting for her friend to respond as they walked.
“Do you think anyone else saw?” Polly asked, her voice low, stride unaltered, expression casual.
“I don’t think so. People were busy. A lot was going on. I just happened to be in the right spot at the right moment.”
“Good.”
Therese waited, but when Polly didn’t go on, she prodded her again. “So what was it? What are you up to, my friend?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh. Are you saying you can’t tell me?”
Polly hesitated. “It’s for your own good.”
“What if I said I’d like to… help? Mr. Galloway is a clerk in the secretary of state’s office, after all. I know for a fact that puts me in a somewhat… accessible position.”
Polly drew Therese closer and then put her other arm around her. “I’ll think about it.”
“Think about what?” a voice asked from behind them.
Both women startled and clung to each other as they turned their heads. A soldier had snuck up on them.
“Whether I can work at the hospital again tomorrow evening,” Polly said quickly as she pulled out her pass and held it up. “I worked yesterday, last night, and today. As you can imagine, I’m exhausted and am wondering if I can manage to return tomorrow.”
The soldier stared at her for a moment and then said, “I see.” He tightened his grip on his rifle. “Nurses or not, you two should hurry on home and keep your conversations to a minimum. You don’t want to raise suspicions.”
“Of course not,” Therese stammered, showing her pass too. “We’re nearly home now.” She pulled Polly along, slipped her pass back into her pocket, and called out over her shoulder, “Good night!”
“Oh, goodness,” Polly said, putting her pass away too. “What a fright.”
“I didn’t think anything scared you.” Therese willed her heart to stop galloping.
“You’d be surprised.” Polly walked even faster. “You know what scares me the most? How our soldiers can be alive one day and dead the next. I didn’t want to tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough. The farm boy from North Carolina passed Saturday morning.”
“Oh, no.” Therese felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Poor thing.” She couldn’t help but think of her brother.
“I know,” Polly said. “Death happens in the hospital a lot, but it’s still an injured soldier’s best chance for survival. Warner’s so fortunate to have you as an advocate. To have all of us. Don’t let your mother take him home.”
“I’ll do my best,” Therese said.
When they reached the row house, Polly gave Therese a quick hug. “I’ll come by for you at four thirty tomorrow.”
Therese tried to lighten the moment by teasing her friend. “Are you sure you feel up to going back?”
“You couldn’t keep me away from there. I used to like teaching until I started nursing. It’s all I want to do now.”
“Get some sleep,” Therese said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stood and watched Polly hurry to the corner and disappear, confident she’d cover the last block in no time. Therese let herself into the row house and stopped in the hall for a moment. A dim light burned in the parlor, but no one was in the room. She stepped through the door. Mr. Galloway’s papers from the evening before were still on the table. She glanced down at Eleanor’s book on the floor, taking a closer look at the stack on the table as she did. The first page read, TOP SECRET.
A rustling down the hall caused her to bend down and pick up the book.
“You’re back.” Mr. Galloway stood in the doorway.
“Yes,” she said, standing, book in hand, heart pounding wildly in her chest.
“How is your brother?”
Tears stung her eyes. “His wound is infected.”
“Did your mother arrive?”
“Yes, this afternoon. She’s stayin
g with a couple who lives near the hospital.” She hadn’t told her mother the Corbetts were Quaker—and she guessed she’d get a piece of Mother’s mind about it later. “I’d like to go back to the hospital tomorrow evening, if that’s all right.”
“Of course.” Mr. Galloway stepped into the room.
Therese put the book on the table, quickly told him good night, and headed for the hall as he gathered up his stack of documents. Therese had a feeling that was how Polly garnered information—by snooping through Mr. Baxter’s papers. The man worked for the War Department, which meant he was even more likely to have sensitive materials around than Mr. Galloway.
So how did it work from there? Therese wondered as she slowly climbed to her room in the attic. Did Polly take the information about troop movements or ammunition stores or vulnerabilities and translate them into stories about head wounds and stomach punctures and severed arteries? Stories that Dr. Talbot would decode and then convey, perhaps to the Corbetts?
Therese could only guess at the details, but still she yearned to help, to contribute to their efforts. She didn’t want any more soldiers, Northern or Southern, to be wounded as Warner had been. And she certainly didn’t want any more to die, not like the sweet farm boy from North Carolina had. If Polly’s little spy network was helping to bring the Confederacy down, then Therese wanted in.
If they would have her, she was ready.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Therese
The next afternoon Mother sent Badan in the buggy to collect Therese and Polly. Instead of inquiring more about Polly’s secret work, Therese asked Badan how Aggie was doing.
He hesitated a moment and then answered, “Just fine.”
Therese wanted to pry for more information, but not with Polly in the buggy. “And Auntie Vera? How is she?”
“She’s fine too.”
“How about Mr. Porter?”
Badan hesitated again but then said, “I guess he’s fine too. He mostly keeps to himself.”
Therese wondered if that meant the man spent most of his time drinking.
“Who is seeing to the property?” Therese asked.
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