Bruce walks over and folds his arms around me. “You could always shower here, with me,” he reveals as he kisses my ear then slides down my neck.
I moan. “If we do that, we may never leave the loft.” I try to move out of his arms, but he tightens his grip, and I melt into his kisses.
He pulls away reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. How long do you need to get ready?”
“As long as I can figure out how to get my costume on, maybe an hour.”
“I’ll come by then. Do you want me to check on Buc for you?”
“If you don’t mind, that would be great. It was strange not having him with me last night.”
“Since it’s just the three lofts on this floor I think he can come to any of them, anytime.” He smiles before giving me a final kiss.
I move to his bedroom and pick up my things from last night, changing back into my dress before heading home. Walking back into the kitchen area where Bruce is sitting at the table with more coffee and the newspaper, I remind him, “I’ll see you in a bit.” He takes my hand and kisses my palm before I can get past him.
“See you soon, Sarah.” And with that little tingle of pleasure, I move toward my loft.
As I walk down the hall, I hear Buc bark, then Sally’s door flies open before I can pass.
“Oh, hey!” Sally exclaims. She jumps when she sees me. “Well, looks like someone had a good night last night.” She giggles.
“You could say that.” I feel my face warm up. “How was Buc?”
“He’s always good. I was just getting ready to take him for a walk, unless you wanted to do that?”
“Do you mind going ahead? I need to hop in the shower and get into my costume for the reenactment today.”
“No worries. I was thinking about heading out to some of the sites later. Do you mind if Buc goes with me?”
“Not at all; he loves people. Well, I should get going. Bruce is going to drop me off before he heads off for the bus.”
“Good idea. It gets crazy around here during these weekends.” She rolls her eyes. “I just like going and teasing all of my friends that get suckered into participating. I did it a couple of times, but I’d rather watch. I’ll catch you later.”
Before they disappear I squat down to Buc and give him a hug. “I’ll see you later, buddy.”
* * *
The shower feels good, now to try and figure out this costume. The dress is a brown cotton, calico print. Its petticoat will make the skirt puffy. Once I finally get it all on, I go into the bathroom to twist my hair into a long braid down my back. I figure it will keep my hair out of my face and out of the way of whatever it is I will do today.
As I walk back into the living room, I hear a knock and the door being opened. I know it will be Bruce. When I turn, I’m looking into the past. Bruce is standing in a full Union Infantry uniform: a dark blue wool coat over lighter blue wool pants. He has a rifle slung over his right shoulder with the bayonet strapped onto the left side of his belt. The belt buckle has the letters US on it. His backpack and bedroll are attached to his back. Something about him seems so familiar. But what?
“You look beautiful in your costume,” he remarks.
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. But I swear this is oddly familiar.”
“What do you mean?”
I think for a minute, then it dawns on me. I sort through my art supplies where I have stashed my drawings. When I come back, I lean the two drawings up against the wall and direct Bruce, “Stand next to them.”
Bruce stands next to them, facing me. “What is it?” he questions.
I hold up my finger, look at him, and then at the drawings. “I think I was drawing you. Look.”
He comes to stand beside me, and we stare at the photos together. “Well, that’s eerie. I just got this uniform. It’s new. My last uniform was significantly different. How did you do that?”
“I have no idea. And since I know what you look like, why didn’t I draw your face? This is so strange.”
“Are you all right?” He turns and faces me, raising his hands up to rub my arms.
“Yes, I kind of wish we didn’t have to do this today so I could go back to the Wheatfield and finish this. I need to put it to rest.”
He covers me in his arms, and I rest my head on his chest. “Let’s not think about it for now. On Monday things will quiet down a bit. I’ll go with you to make sure no one interrupts you and we can get to the bottom of this. How does that sound?”
“Thanks, that’s an excellent idea. No distractions is best. Should we get going?”
“Yes.” He kisses the top of my head before taking my hand as we leave the loft.
Chapter 14
Bruce drops me off at the super-sized tent, where I meet up with Mr. Banks. “You fit right in with your costume, Ms. Finny.”
“Please, call me Sarah. Thank you, it’s more comfortable than I thought it would be.”
A woman in her late fifties glides over to us. She is tall, with long brown hair, and is dressed much as I am. “Sarah, please let me introduce you to Teresa Parker. Teresa, this is Sarah Finny.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” I say.
“I’m glad you were able to come and be part of the reenactment today. It is entertaining, not only for the tourists but for us as well. Have you ever done one of these before?” she questions.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve never been to one either.”
“You will get the hang of it. Basically, we wait for soldiers to come in. They will be wounded, and we are to tend to them. It’s all an act, of course,” she explains.
“That sounds easy enough. So when do things start?” Just as I get my question out, we hear the first cannon fire. “I guess that answers my question.” I roll my eyes and laugh. Everything here seems to start with cannon fire.
“That’s it. You and Teresa will be assigned to this area. I’ll bounce around among the tables. I get to play doctor again.” He smiles as he heads off to his place.
“So everyone who is a part of the reenactment had family in the war?” I inquire.
“Most of them, yes. Others just love joining in the fun.”
Remembering why I’m involved in this reenactment, I muse. “It will be interesting to see what Elizabeth Finny saw when she was here.”
“Yes, Elizabeth was a special nurse. She was asked to help when the war shifted to this area. Her fiancé was drafted into the Union Army just before the war came through Gettysburg. They needed all the support they could get by then, and when her Edward was wounded in the Wheatfield he was brought here where he died.”
“That’s terribly sad. I tried to find more information on her in the books you suggested, but I couldn’t find anything. Do you know what happened to her?”
“Edward’s death broke her heart. She was his nurse when he came in, and of course she tried everything she could to save him. She disappeared after he died. A broken heart is hard to mend.”
“Wow, what a devastating story. How do you know all of this?”
“Once I figured out that she was your relative, I did some research. I found a journal that Elizabeth kept and, after she disappeared, her sister Emily continued. I’ll show you sometime, but I’m still looking into how she passed away.”
“Thank you. I’m anxious to see what you find.”
It’s not long after we hear the first cannon fire that wounded soldiers are brought in on stretchers.
“Just follow my lead until you get the hang of it, then you can do your own thing,” Teresa explains to me as we move to the first wounded soldier.
I get into the swing of things quickly. Soldiers are carried in moaning and are laid on tables. Mr. Banks and other doctor types wander from table to table, pretending to operate or remove limbs. From what I’ve heard, the soldiers who come in are treated like their ancestors had been. If someone had needed a limb removed, that limb will be amputated again today. If a soldier had died, he would di
e here. Those who die are carried out the back door where they are free to go about the rest of their day.
* * *
Several hours pass, and as Bruce predicted, time flies by. As I get into a rhythm, the reenactment is kind of fun, morbid fun, but fun nonetheless. We have slowed down a bit over the past hour, so I’m sitting with Teresa and Mr. Banks, waiting for the next wave to hit, when we hear a commotion outside.
A group of soldiers enter the tent carrying one of their comrades who is covered in blood. None of the others who have come into the hospital has had any blood on them at all. This one, on the other hand, is bleeding profusely. In the distance, we hear sirens that sound as if they are getting closer.
“Oh my God, what happened?” I yell over the noise.
“We don’t know. We were acting out the battle, as we do every year, but something went wrong,” the soldier who is helping with the man’s feet explains.
“Is it real blood?” I ask.
“We think so, but we can’t tell for sure where the blood is coming from. He keeps going in and out of consciousness,” the soldier tells us.
“Bring him to the back. Who is it?” one of the pretend doctors inquires.
“It’s Bruce. Bruce Wilks,” the guy yells.
“Oh God!” I yell as I run over to the men who are holding Bruce and take his hand. In the background, I hear a dog barking, then I hear Sally calling for Buc to come back to her. I’m torn between helping Bruce and helping Sally. We get Bruce onto the table where we try to figure out what’s going on with him. The blood looks as if it may be coming from his stomach since blood is covering most of his torso. I hear Sally call again for Buc, and as I glance outside, I see that he is running in my direction. I put my fingers in my mouth and whistle really loud. Buc comes running toward me and goes straight for Bruce. I guess we really are family, now.
Sally finally catches up to us. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I don’t know what happened; he just took off this way when we saw this group of guys come in here. Hey, what happened? Is that real blood? What the hell happened?” Sally asks as she starts to look a little green now that she sees the blood.
I stand, blocking Sally so she has to look at me. “We don’t know yet.” I look at Buc and pat his head. “Buc, you need to go out with Sally.” He gives me a sad look but does as he’s told.
“Is that Bruce?” she whispers.
“Yes, now go so we can sort this out. Tell the EMTs that we are in here and what is going on, and do try to keep the tourists away for now.” I tend to get a bit bossy when something is wrong. I’ve always done that, but right now I don’t care, and Sally needs to leave before she passes out or throws up. We have enough going on in here right now. There is so much noise with the sirens, the crowd inside the tent, and the crowd that is building outside the tent.
“Fine,” she says as she gets Buc back on his leash and heads off to watch for the EMTs.
I hurry back over to Bruce’s side and sit on the bench next to him. Taking his hand in mine again, I talk to him, “Bruce, can you hear me?” Someone is taking Bruce’s gear off, trying to see where the blood is coming from.
“Elizabeth?” I hear Bruce whisper.
“What? I didn’t hear you. Bruce, say it again.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Who is Elizabeth?” I question the people standing around him. Everyone shrugs. That’s when we hear more commotion outside. Benny must have heard the news about Bruce because he runs into the tent like a mad man.
“What the hell happened?” he commands. When he gets to the table where Bruce is lying he adds, “Holy shit! What the hell happened?” In the background, I see that the EMTs are pushing through the crowd to get to Bruce.
“We don’t know, Benny.” By this time, Teresa has come over to us. She has a horrified look on her face.
“I can’t find anything wrong with him,” the medic who is examining Bruce declares. “Keep talking to him.”
“Bruce, you need to wake up and tell us what is wrong. You’re scaring me. We want to help you.”
As the EMTs and the cops arrive, something strange happens. All of the blood begins to disappear, as if it’s going back into a wound we cannot see. People all around us gasp in shock as we all watch. Within a few minutes, no blood is evident anywhere on or around Bruce. It’s as if nothing happened. “Did you see that?” I whisper in shock. I look up, and everyone is staring, stunned.
Bruce stirs, and when he sees me, he says, “Hey, beautiful.”
“You’re all right. Thank God.” I hug him where he lies.
“What’s going on? When did I get here?” As Bruce sits up, there is absolutely no blood at all, nor does he appear to be in any pain. He looks around as if he has no clue what is going on.
One of the EMTs stops Bruce from coming to a full sitting position and instructs, “Sir, please lie back down so we can check you out. Do you remember what happened?”
Bruce looks at me, puzzled. “I remember being at the Wheatfield and repeating the reenactment as we always do, then I woke up here.” The EMT continues to examine him.
“Well, all of your vitals seem normal.” He flashes his light in Bruce’s eyes and checks his reflexes before feeling his head for any lumps or dents. “Do you feel dizzy or ill in any way?”
“No, not at all. I feel fine,” Bruce replies.
“I don’t see any blood or anything that is wrong on the outside. Do you feel that you want to go to the hospital and be fully checked out?”
“No, I think I’m fine.”
“Fine, if you begin to feel sick, please go to the hospital right away.”
“Will do, thank you.” The EMTs retreat, and the cops follow since there doesn’t seem to be any foul play. Once they leave, Bruce questions, “What the hell happened?” He sits up and pulls me down next to him.
“We were doing our thing on the battlefield, and I heard a noise. When I turned around, you were moaning on the ground, and you were covered in blood. So I called the guys over, and we carried you here,” one of the soldiers explains. All of the men who had brought Bruce in look a bit creeped out.
“I don’t remember any of that. I don’t see any blood,” Bruce says as he takes stock of his body and uniform.
“It vanished,” I explain.
He gives me a worried look. I must’ve let a tear escape because he raises his hand to wipe it away. “Why are you crying?”
I wipe my eyes. “I didn’t realize I was. I thought maybe I was losing you when I had just found you.”
He pulls me closer. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a reenactment to take me down. A rock maybe.” We laugh at his joke on how we first met.
“Who is Elizabeth?” I ask Bruce. Now that everyone knows that Bruce is fine, the soldiers who brought him in head away from us, shaking their heads and talking about whether they were all hallucinating from the heat. I even hear a guy say, “Let’s go get a beer and forget this ever happened.” The only ones to stay are Mr. Banks and Teresa. I had asked Benny to go and check on Sally to make sure she was all right.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“When you were covered in blood and not fully awake, you called for Elizabeth, twice.”
“That’s odd.”
I hear someone take in a sharp breath of surprise and look up to see that Teresa has gone white. Mr. Banks helps her sit down. “What’s wrong?”
Teresa looks at Bruce and me. “Are you dating?” she inquires.
“Yes, we just started. I met Bruce when he sprained his ankle my second day here, at the Wheatfield. Why?” I inquire.
“I think the fact that the two of you met in the Wheatfield soon after you came here was no coincidence. I think you’re being drawn together.”
“What do you mean?” Bruce and I ask in unison.
“You said that Bruce called for Elizabeth, right?”
“Yes.” This is starting to get a bit spooky now.
“I think he was talking about Eliz
abeth Finny, your ancestor, Sarah,” Teresa explains.
“Wait a minute. Why would I be calling for Elizabeth?” Bruce questions.
“Edward Wilks was shot in the stomach at the Wheatfield and was brought to this hospital where Elizabeth tried to save him before he died in her arms,” Teresa replies.
Um, all right, this is all overwhelming. How can this be happening? I’m freaking out just a bit. “What?” I whisper.
“You know, now that I think about it, Sarah, I think the drawings you have been doing at the Wheatfield could be Edward trying to communicate with you,” Mr. Banks suggests. “I bet when you go back and finish the drawing the soldier will have Edward’s face.”
“But what does he want with me? And why did he do that to Bruce?” I’m not sure what to think. I have had my fair share of run-ins with ghosts, but nothing like this.
“I don’t know, but I think we need to figure it out,” Bruce utters. Turning to Mr. Banks, he announces, “I’m going with Sarah to the Wheatfield on Monday. I’ll make sure no one bothers her while she works.”
“Teresa, are you getting anything from Edward now?” Mr. Banks asks.
“Why would Teresa know?” I question.
“Teresa is not only a genealogist, she is also a sensitive. Sometimes ghosts communicate with her,” Mr. Banks explains.
“Oh, has he tried communicating with you before?” I inquire.
“No, not Edward. I’ve heard from others but not him. I think you may have awakened him in some way. You do look a lot like Elizabeth, and Bruce does resemble Edward.”
“You two go on home. Things will settle down here now, and we have plenty of people to make the reenactment look right,” Mr. Banks suggests, “but if anything else happens, please call me or Teresa. We will figure this all out together.”
“Thank you, Mr. Banks,” I say.
“Sarah, please call me Daniel.”
I smile and nod as Bruce and I move outside, where we find Benny, Sally, and Buc waiting anxiously for us. Bruce has his arm over my shoulders, and I have mine around his waist as we emerge from the tent.
Freeing Lost Souls (The Family Tree Series Book 1) Page 8
