The Rough Rider

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Fine—Fine!” Mr. Hearst beamed. “Why don’t you bring it by my office tomorrow. If you come early enough, we can print it in the next day’s Journal.”

  The rest of the party was an eye-opening experience for Aaron. He’d never been around extremely wealthy people before, and some of the men there, along with Hearst, were among the top magnates in the country, wielding considerable political and financial power.

  Aaron, however, was more interested in Alice Cates than in railroad tycoons and political buffoons. He did not have to maneuver her into a corner to talk, for he had not been there any longer than half an hour when she sought him out, leaving Lewis talking with a group of friends.

  “I want to know all about you, and especially about Lewis. I’m sure you have some stories you could tell.” She led him by the arm to a quiet alcove, and when anyone approached them, she waved them off with an autocratic gesture. Aaron readily spoke of Lewis and of himself in earlier days. After a few minutes, he finally understood why she was so interested. When she began to speak of the war, her eyes grew brighter. Grabbing his arm, she said, “Isn’t it noble for Lewis to join the forces to go to free the Cubans?”

  At first Aaron felt strangely tempted to tell her what he actually thought, but instead he said rather diplomatically, “Lewis is a very idealistic man. I’m not too surprised at his decision.”

  His lack of enthusiasm at what she believed to be an honorable cause prompted Alice to look at him in dismay. “Don’t you feel the same way, Aaron?”

  “I really don’t know what I feel. I’ve been out of the country while this whole thing was brewing. I haven’t had much time to think about it.”

  Alice beamed one of her coquettish smiles at him and said, “Oh, when you hear more about it you’ll change your mind. My father’s a friend of Mr. Roosevelt. I’m quite positive I’m going to be able to get Lewis into the Rough Riders.” She hesitated, then said, “I think he might make a place for two, if I ask him.”

  Aaron smiled. She was a bold young woman, and he could tell she was accustomed to getting her own way. He shook his head and said, “Well—give me a few days to think about that.”

  Right then, a tall, dark admirer of Alice’s walked up and insisted on whisking her away for a dance. Aaron stood and watched as the two walked back to the ballroom floor.

  The party went on until nearly midnight, when Esther finally convinced Lewis it was time to go. Aaron and Esther walked to the carriage that had been brought around, and waited a few minutes as Lewis lingered in an arbor to say goodbye to Alice.

  As the three made their way home, Lewis turned to his brother and asked eagerly, “Well, what did you think of Alice?”

  “She’s a beautiful young woman.”

  “Oh, I know that—I mean, what do think about her as a person?”

  “Never seen a stronger one,” Aaron said truthfully. He tried somehow to think of a way to warn Lewis against the girl, but he was aware that his brother would not welcome any criticism of Alice Cates. Tentatively, he said, “It was an interesting time. I heard so many new ideas and insights tonight, I’ll have to think about it.” He paused a moment, and then said, “I have to write that piece for Hearst, too.”

  “Maybe he’ll give you a job as a reporter and send you back to the Klondike or something,” Esther said.

  “He might make me a reporter, but I’m not going back to the Yukon,” Aaron said flatly. His statement brought a somber silence into the carriage.

  “Well, we can talk about it tomorrow,” said Lewis as they rode on.

  ****

  For the next two days, Aaron stayed as close to Lewis as he could. If he thought, however, to have any influence on the young man, he was sorely mistaken, for Lewis was adamant in his decision. Aaron discussed the matter with Mark, who returned from Chicago the following day. “He’s just like a runaway train on a downhill track, Uncle Mark,” Aaron complained. He shook his head, a despondent expression in his eyes. “He’s bound and determined to get his head blown off, and he doesn’t have the vaguest idea of what war is all about!”

  Mark looked at his nephew and said, “I’m afraid you’re right, Aaron! I’m sorry to hear it, but it’s the same everywhere. Young men are trying to get in and can’t.” His eyes grew thoughtful and he said, “I wish we could have had some of these fellows when we were trying to hold the fort back in the Civil War. We finally wound up using sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds, and even men in their sixties. Now here are all these young fellows, by the thousands, trying to join up and get into a fight they don’t even understand.”

  “Well, I’ll keep trying,” Aaron said. “I took the story in to Hearst about the Yukon,” he said suddenly. “I felt like a fool walking into that big office of his! I’m no newspaperman. Hearst glanced over it and seemed to like it, though.”

  “Don’t give up on Lewis. Maybe you’ll be able to pound some sense into his head.”

  “No, I won’t give up. I’m going to some mission on Water Street with him tonight. I promised him that.”

  “It’s an interesting place. You know that Barney and Andy are on their way to Africa now. They were pretty instrumental in starting and keeping the mission going before they left.” He spoke of his two sons with pride, thinking of them as they headed to the dark continent. “Now, there’s an adventure for you!” he said. “Going to Africa! That’s better than any war in Cuba, I say.”

  “I’ll agree with that, Uncle Mark. Still, I’ve got to do something quick.”

  “It’s happening very rapidly,” Mark said, nodding. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved within a month and set sail for Cuba with a fleet.”

  That night, Aaron accompanied Lewis to the Water Street Mission. He was reluctant to go in and take a seat, for he was still bitter and did not want to hear anything about God. He was, however, interested in talking more with young Dr. David Burns, whom he had met briefly before the service. He’d been informed by Lewis that Burns was to accompany the troops to Cuba. As soon as the service was finished, Aaron walked up to the doctor and said, “I understand that you are going to Cuba as a surgeon with the army?”

  “Yes, that’s true, Mr. Winslow.”

  “You believe in the cause, then, I take it?”

  Burns gave him a friendly smile. “I believe there’ll be a lot of sick and wounded men, many of whom will probably die. Whatever the cause is—they’ll need medical attention.”

  Aaron took a liking to the young doctor at once. There was an honesty in his forthright reply, and Aaron felt inclined to say, “I’m worried about my brother. He’s dying to go, and I’m determined to keep him out of it.”

  “I doubt if ye can do that,” Burns shrugged. “He’s on fire about the thing.” He would have said more, but he turned and said, “Ah, let me introduce ye to my two assistants.” He led Aaron over to where two young women were standing and talking. “Mr. Aaron Winslow, this is Miss Gail Summers and Miss Deborah Laurent.” There was a proud look in his eyes as he said, “These two women are also going to accompany me and be my nurses in the field.”

  Aaron was surprised to hear that two attractive young ladies had volunteered for such a cause. Soon he found himself talking alone to Gail Summers while the doctor took Deborah Laurent off to help collect the songbooks. “I’m surprised, Miss Summers,” Aaron said. “I didn’t know women like you were caught up in the Cuban issue.”

  Gail studied the tall young man. She’d heard much about him from Lewis and saw that he was better looking and larger than Lewis. His reply somehow troubled her and she said simply, “I’m going because God has told me to!”

  Aaron blinked in surprise at her answer. It would have sounded pious from the lips of most people, but this young woman had a steadiness in her gaze that he found hard to meet. “I’m . . . I’m sure that’s true,” he said. He hesitated for a moment and said, “I had a friend that you remind me of.” He was thinking about Jubal and how he had the same kind of steady faith in God, and the
thought was painful to him.

  Gail saw something dark flicker in his eyes and said, “Is there something wrong? What about your friend?”

  “He’s dead,” said Aaron flatly.

  Gail was slightly rebuffed by the harsh reply. She could sense that this was a part of Aaron Winslow’s life that he had shut, and would not allow anyone to approach. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly and turned and moved away.

  Later that night on the way home, Aaron said, “Gail Summers is an attractive woman and pretty blunt too, I might add.”

  “Blunt?” Lewis raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. “Gail’s very gentle, I think. Oh, you mean about her testimony. Yes, she came up the hard way. If you’d grown up in poverty in an overcrowded tenement with an abusive stepfather like she did, you’d probably feel the same way. When you get to know her, you’ll think better of her.”

  “That’s not likely. She’s going to Cuba,” Aaron said.

  Lewis looked at Aaron in surprise, and started to say something but stopped.

  It was a subject that had pushed the two brothers further apart—the matter of Cuba and Lewis’s enlisting. They said little the rest of the way home, and later that night, Aaron sat down to write a long letter to his parents. He confessed his failure to change Lewis’s mind and finally wrote, “And so my trip’s been unsuccessful. Lewis is resolute in his decision to go to Cuba. If I could, I’d knock him in the head, kidnap him, and drag him home. But aside from keeping him locked up, there is no way of preventing him from becoming involved in this war. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do better.”

  He put his pen down, stared at the words he’d written, and for a long time sat there thinking hard. Somehow he felt that failing with Lewis was the same as failing Jubal. The image of Jubal’s face floated before him, and he shut his eyes and leaned forward, putting his forehead in his hands. He ran his hands through his hair almost in desperation. He could get killed in this fool war—just like Jubal got killed in that avalanche. The thought of losing his brother was almost more than he could bear. Finally, he straightened up and walked over and opened the window. He stared outside where the moonlight was casting silvery beams down on the trees that lined the spacious yard. From outside, the smell of mellow earth and flowers pressing through to spread their fragrance in the air came to him.

  “I’ve got to do something,” he said aloud, frustrated at the sense of helplessness he felt. “I’ve just got to do something!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Out of the Night

  The following afternoon, Aaron made his way to the Bowery. He took some time to walk around the streets of Lower Manhattan. He’d been told that Broadway, which was the home of the fashionable elegant during the day, was haunted at night by prostitutes, con men, and assorted criminals. He wandered around Fifth Avenue, noting that the older houses had been torn down and replaced by Italian-style mansions, French chateaux, and gothic castles. He found something repelling about the street that was now lined with ornate mansions and gaming establishments catering to the wealthy.

  When he arrived at Baxter Hospital, he couldn’t help noticing that it had not been set among the opulent dwellings of the affluent. He wondered why the powers that be had even condescended to grant the poor and unfortunate of the city such a benefit. It was a rather plain building sitting squarely in the center of the notorious slums of Five Points.

  He had heard that certain organizations had stirred an interest among the wealthy to fund such a place. Perhaps it had been built more out of a need to appear in the social spotlight of the city than a heartfelt gesture to help the poor and destitute of Five Points. Looking up at its plain facade, he climbed the stairs and entered the square three-story red-brick building, seeking Gail Summers. The nurse at the entrance was helpful, and he found Gail without any difficulty.

  She was busy helping an elderly patient back into bed when he walked up behind her and said, “I hate to bother people who actually have something to do.” He grinned rather crookedly when she turned. “Can you take time out for a cup of tea or whatever it is you drink?”

  Gail was surprised to see Aaron at the hospital. She was wearing her white hospital uniform and looked rather pretty. “I’m sorry, Mr. Winslow, but I don’t have time for tea. I must finish up here, and then I have an errand to run. I hardly even have time to change clothes first.”

  Quickly Aaron responded, “Would it be all right if I went with you? And I’m Aaron, by the way, not Mr. Winslow.”

  Gail hesitated at his kind offer. “It would be helpful,” she admitted. “I have to pick up a load of food that’s been donated to the mission. I could actually use some help loading it.”

  “Well, then, I’m your man! You go ahead and change. I’ll wait right here for you.”

  Gail left hurriedly for her small room. Almost as soon as she disappeared, Dr. Burns came striding down the hall. “Ah, good afternoon to you, Mr. Winslow! Not sick I hope!” A bit of humor glinted in the eye of the young physician. “You look well and healthy to me!”

  “Healthy as a horse, Dr. Burns!” Aaron said cheerfully. “I’ve agreed to go with Nurse Summers on an errand to pick up some food and take it to the mission.”

  “Ah, yes, some of the merchants in the neighborhood heard about our work and are very generous to the Water Street Mission. I wish I could go myself, but I’ve a full schedule today.” Dr. Burns examined Aaron carefully and said, “You and your brother don’t resemble each other too much.”

  “No, we don’t—and we’re even more different than we look,” said Aaron amiably.

  “Oh, how’s that?” asked the doctor.

  “Why, Lewis is a romantic, as you can guess from his charging off to join this war—” Aaron broke off suddenly, adding, “But then you’re going also, so maybe you’re a romantic as well.”

  “I’ve never been called that,” Dr. Burns protested, a slight smile curling his lips. “What about yourself? You have no romance in your soul, Mr. Winslow?”

  “Not a speck! I’m a hard-nosed realist.” Aaron nodded firmly. The corners of his mouth turned upward as he grinned and shrugged his broad shoulders. “A lot of romantic fools went for the adventure of the gold rush in the Klondike—I just went along to get rich. But I didn’t, of course. That’s what usually happens with romantic ventures.”

  The two men chatted pleasantly for a while. Aaron liked the young doctor very much. He found the Scotsman intelligent, witty, and knowledgeable on a number of subjects. For one fairly new to the city, he seemed to be quite informed on many of the pressing needs of the people. From his views, and his involvement at the mission, Aaron could tell Dr. Burns was a man of action—one who threw his energy into trying to make a change.

  When Gail reappeared from her room, fastening a hat on her head, she said, “Oh, Dr. Burns—Aaron’s going to help me take the groceries to the mission! Will we see you at the meeting tonight?”

  “Very likely, Gail! I have a few more patients to check on, but I plan to be there.”

  Gail led Aaron out of the hospital and down the steps to the street. “I have the use of a wagon, but I don’t know how to drive one.”

  “Well, I do!” Aaron said cheerfully. “I’m no expert horseman, but I guess I can handle a team as well as most men.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief!” Gail said. “I thought I was going to have to hire a man to drive me. Come along!”

  She led him down a side street toward a livery stable, where a hostler hitched a team of two large geldings to a wagon.

  Aaron took her hand and helped her up on the front seat. Climbing up beside her, he took the reins, and soon they were driving along the busy streets of Lower Manhattan. They made three stops at grocery stores, and at each place, Aaron helped load the wagon with crates of food donated by merchants who had taken an interest in the work at the mission. He listened as Gail praised each one of the businessmen effusively and told them God would not forget their kindness. When they had made their last stop, he said, �
��It’s decent of the men to do that.”

  “Oh yes—I think most people want to help,” said Gail, looking back and smiling at the loaded wagon.

  Aaron said nothing and sat on the wagon seat, holding the lines in his hands. “I’m glad you think that,” he finally said quietly. “I hope you always do.”

  Gail turned to him quickly and could not miss the skeptical look on Aaron’s face. She did not argue, for she had been quick enough to see that he was a man who had put up a shield between himself and the world.

  They arrived at the mission and were met by the new director—a tall man named Robert Johnson. He was thrilled about the food that had been donated and insisted, “Now, you just go inside while I have some of the fellows help unload all of it. Your brother’s inside, Miss Summers, playing the piano. I guess you can hear him.”

  Gail’s face lit up at once, and Aaron was surprised at how pretty it made her look. “Your brother plays the piano?” he asked.

  “He . . . he’d like to, but there’s never been any money for him to take real lessons.”

  Aaron helped Gail down from the wagon. When they stepped inside, the notes of the out-of-tune, tinny piano filled the building. He smiled at the young boy who was sitting on a box in front of a battered upright piano and putting his heart and soul into his playing.

  “He’s really enjoying that, isn’t he?” Aaron whispered to Gail.

  Gail turned to him and nodded, her eyes bright, yet she shook her head in despair. “He could be a fine musician, if he just had a little help! I’m trying to find him a good teacher to give him lessons, but they’re so expensive.”

  “I had lessons when I was about his age,” Aaron remarked. He shook his head in mock despair. “It drove me crazy. Every time my mother told me it was time to practice, I was ready to run away from home. I hated every minute of it, but I can see that your brother loves it. He’s got a real gift for it.”