“Everett, stop,” she hissed.
He said nothing and continued to march her down a long, empty hall. She yanked more firmly against his hold. “Let me go, you overpowering brute!”
“Do not call me that.”
“Then stop acting like one!” She finally managed to wrench from his grasp. “What are you doing? Why won’t you let me see him?”
He stood directly in front of her and braced his arms on either side of her, trapping her between his large frame and the wall. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? By dragging me around the hospital by the arm?”
“Grace, be reasonable,” his snapped. “You haven’t been yourself since that wagon arrived. If you aren’t careful others will notice.”
She swallowed convulsively and blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She’d spent months, years, bottling up her secrets and emotions, but now it was all pouring out. She never should have allowed herself to become close to Everett. A torrent of anger and sadness threatened to pour out of her. What would the others do if they learned of her family connections? “It doesn’t matter, Everett. Someone else already knows.”
“How? Who?”
“Sarah Walters overheard our argument in the entryway.”
“Damn it,” he cursed, washing a palm over his bristled jaw. “Are you certain? Did she say anything to you?”
“No, but she must have heard, and she hates me almost as much as the Confederacy. Who knows what she’ll do with the information.”
Everett cursed once more under his breath. “We’ll speak of this later,” he said tersely. “In the meantime, do not go near the Confederate Ward.” He leaned close. “I mean it, Grace.”
Hurt, frightened, and angry, she spun away from him and rushed out of the hospital and into the night air. As soon as her feet hit the grass she lifted her skirts and broke into a run, sprinting toward the hidden pond, desperate to outrun the surge of memories and emotions threatening to swamp her. She reached the waters edge and collapsed into the heather as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body. She lay down in the sweet smelling grass and buried her face in her arms, finally letting all her anguish pour out.
~*~
The sweet sensation of kissing Grace in the moonlight had evaporated like a hazy dream. One minute Everett had been surrounded in feminine softness, and the next learning that the woman he was falling head over heels for with was a bloody traitor!
Traitor…
He blanched at the word. Perhaps traitor was too harsh. She’d been married to a confederate soldier, and possessed strong family connections to another, but… what did that mean for her loyalties? He’d never seen her be anything but kind and hard working, but this new information certainly explained why she’d been so tight lipped about her family and home life.
Everett raked both hands through his hair. Bloody hell! He wanted answers, and that meant he needed to find Grace. He took the stairs to her room on the third floor two at a time. He pounded on her door, but there was no answer. “Grace?”
Still no answer.
The hallway was deserted so he grasped the handle and tried the door. It opened easily and he stepped inside. “Grace?” The small room was dark, but he quickly discerned that she wasn’t there.
He all but ran back out. If she wasn’t in her quarters, there was only one other place she’d disappear to.
The pond.
He exited the hospital at a dead run. Fortunately, the full moon cast silvery light along the narrow trail, and as he entered the grove he spotted her instantly. For half a stride he slowed, his chest tightened painfully at the sight of her crumpled in the grass. Bloody hell. He shouldn’t have been so harsh with her. He should have listened, but instead his fool temper had gotten the best of him yet again. Stuffing back the guilt, he rushed to her side, and dropped to his knees. “Grace.” He reached for her, desperate to take her quaking form into his arms.
“Don’t touch me!” She snatched away from his touch. “Go away.”
He persisted, looping his arms around her, but she continued to struggle as he pulled her slight frame into his lap.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, pounding a fist into his chest. “I thought you were different. I thought you might understand, but you’re just like all the rest. I saw the hatred in your eyes as soon as I told you about my family.”
“No, love, that isn’t true.”
She half-heartedly banged another fist against his chest. “Leave me be.”
“Gracie,” he murmured, “all I want is to protect you.” He cradled her against his chest, dropping his face to her sweet smelling hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted before. You caught me off guard is all, lass.”
She released a shuddering sigh and sagged against his chest, he sensed her defeat. For a long while he simply held her, stroking her hair until her tears ebbed and she simply lay against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more. “I shouldn’t have been so severe earlier, but this is a serious matter.”
“I know that,” Grace fingered the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not a Confederate supporter.”
He took a moment to respond, trying to select his words carefully. “I don’t understand, Grace. You, and your sister, wed rebel soldiers.”
“I did not marry a rebel soldier.” She shoved away from him, and crawled out of his lap. “I married a medical student five years before the war ever started.” She situated herself in the grass opposite him, toying with hem of her apron. “Everything was so different then,” she said sadly. “None of us wanted a war. Albert and I had a home and a small medical practice, we were talking about starting a family when the southern states began to secede.” She glanced out toward the pond, expression faraway and wistful in the pale moonlight. “I never supported secession,” she went on. “It created a great deal of strife in my marriage.”
“Where are you from?”
“Maryland, but Albert is—was a Virginian through and through. We lived in a small town near Richmond.”
Maryland. A border state. “Is your family from Maryland?”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes once more. “This war tore my family apart. I have men fighting on both sides,” she confided. “Three of my brothers are fighting for the Confederacy and my eldest brother and my father are in the Union Army.” She swallowed and averted her gaze. “Albert and I weren’t on speaking terms when he left. The letter telling me of his injuries was the first I’d heard from him in months.”
Everett didn’t know what to say as he took in her heart breaking confession.
“You asked why I’m here,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m here to serve the Union because it’s what I believe in.”
Everett nodded slowly, divesting the information. “I believe you.”
The corner of her lips tilted, but she didn’t actually smile.
He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’m glad you told me, Grace.”
She nodded and turned her fingers in his palm. “It feels good speak of it,” she said. “I never intended to keep secrets from you. It’s just… not something I am free to share.”
“I understand.”
She nibbled at her bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. “Maybe it’d be best if I told everyone that Joshua is my brother-in-law.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Everett replied seriously. “There are some that will crucify you for it.”
Grace glanced up at him, genuine fear in her eyes. “Like Sarah?”
He sighed weightily. “How certain are you that she heard us?”
Grace shrugged. “Fairly certain. She didn’t confirm it, but the way she looked at me…” Her hand trembled within his.
Everett rose up on his knees and took her face in his hands. “I will protect you, Grace.” He dropped a quick kiss to her lips. “Do you trust me?”
Her dark eyes searched his in earnest. Finally, she reached up and placed her hands over his.
“I do,” she whispered.
“Then trust that I won’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “For now keep all of this between us, and, by all that’s holy, stay away from the Confederate ward.”
~*~
“The reb is her brother-in-law?” Utter shock overtook Dr. Schaffer’s face as Sarah relayed the argument she’d overhead between Grace and Dr. Connors.
“Yes, and there’s more,” Sarah couldn’t contain her glee. “Nurse Sinclair’s late husband was a rebel officer as well.”
A slow smile of triumph spread over Schaffer’s lips. “How did Connors react to that revelation?”
“He was very angry.” Sarah chuckled. “Their little romance seems to be over.”
Schaffer’s brow furrowed. “Damn!”
“What’s the matter? We’ve got her.”
“But I want to take him down with her, Sarah.” He raked a hand through his hair, he paced the length of the empty room before spinning back to Sarah. “Don’t speak of this to Colonel Dayhuff yet.”
“Jonah, that’s not fair! This is exactly the type of opportunity we’ve been waiting for.”
“And we’re going to use it,” he insisted. “But we need to set them up in a way that leaves no room for explanation or forgiveness. I want to be rid of them for good.”
Sarah crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze on Schaffer. “What do you have in mind?”
~*~
The following morning Grace peaked around the corner of the first ward and instantly shrank back once she spotted Everett.
Blast!
How would she ever get past without him noticing? If he saw her now he’d know she was headed for the Confederate ward and he’d stop her. She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to see Joshua. Speak with him. Ensure that he was well.
She peered surreptitiously around the corner, waiting for Everett to turn his back. As soon as he did, she crept around the corner and rushed down the hall. Once there, she squared her shoulders and strode up to the guard stationed by the door.
“Good morning, Nurse Sinclair,” Corporal West said politely.
“Good morning.” She smiled sweetly in response. “Has the new patient from last night roused yet?”
“He has, Miss. The orderly came out about an hour ago and reported that he’d regained his faculties.”
“Very good. Is anyone with him now?”
“No, Nurse Sinclair. You’re the first to come by since the orderly left.”
“Thank you,” she said, and then strode past him into the ward.
Only three men occupied the smaller room, two were grievously wounded and had been with them for several weeks. The third was Joshua. He lay on a narrow cot with his arms folded behind his head and his eyes closed. He looked a fright. Dirt streaked his face, and he’d grown a significant beard since she’d seen him last. Truly, it was a wonder she’d recognized him last night. His uniform lay in tatters, and his boots resting at the foot of his bed were worn through at the great toes. Her heart twisted as she hurried to his side. She knelt by the cot and laid a gentle hand on his arm.
Slowly Joshua’s eyes opened and focused in on her. Surprise lit his face. “Grace?”
She placed a finger to her lips, urging him to stay quite.
“What are you doing here?” he uttered in a low tone, pushing himself up to sit against the wall.
“I’m the head nurse here at the hospital.”
His eyes widened. “The head nurse? But… this is a Yankee hospital.”
Grace glanced nervously toward the door. “I know,” she whispered, “and I help a lot of soldiers here. Men from both sides. Yourself included.”
He scrubbed a palm over his face. “I just can’t believe it’s you.”
She smiled and clasped his other hand between both of hers. “Believe it.”
He leaned toward her, tense with desperation. “Do you have any word of Lorraine and the children? I haven’t heard from her in months. The mail is terribly unreliable.”
“Your family is well,” Grace replied, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “We’ll take good care of you here, and you’ll return to them before you know it.”
Joshua shook his head in defeat, looking away from Grace. “I appreciate your optimism, but if I don’t die in this godforsaken hospital, I’ll be sent to a prison camp to die there.”
“Joshua, you mustn’t think that way.”
Across the room Private Thomas scoffed. “He speaks the truth, ma’am. Don’t know why you and the docs bother fixin’ us up. We’ll just be shipped off to some hell hole as prisoners of war as soon as we’re well enough to travel.”
A small furrow creased Grace’s brow. Her gaze raised up and locked on Joshua’s. Compassion and conflict roiled within her. She knew these men spoke the truth, but there was nothing she could do about it.”
Joshua’s grip tightened on her hand, and he leaned forward, intensity blazing in his brown eyes. “Get me out of here, Grace. Help me, please.”
Speechless, Grace stared back at him, the pure desperation of his request gnawing at her.
“How is the patient, Nurse Sinclair?”
Grace startled and released Joshua’s hand. She snapped her attention up to find Everett glowering down at her.
Grace gulped and stood, clasping trembling hands behind her back. “He seems to be improving, Doctor.”
“Good,” Everett answered coolly. His icy gaze lingered on Grace before he flipped his attention to Joshua. “I’m pleased to see you’ve regained consciousness. Might I ask how you came to be unconscious in the farmer’s field?”
Joshua nodded, and then rested his head against the wall. “There was a skirmish down by the river. Dennehy and I got split up from our company. He was gut shot—” Joshua’s voice cracked and he glanced away, but not before Grace glimpsed the glitter of tears in his eyes. “I carried him as long and far as I could, but the Yankees were everywhere, and it was so damn hot. I remember falling down in a field and then I woke up here.”
Everett nodded. “You were suffering from severe dehydration and heat exhaustion, but you should recover within a couple days.”
Joshua nodded and closed his eyes, resting back against the cot.
Grace leaned over and patted Joshua’s arm. “Get some rest. I’ll be by to check on you in a little while.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Everett’s fists clench by his sides. “Nurse Sinclair, I require a private audience with you.”
Nerves fluttered in her belly, but she refused to let him see. “Of course, Doctor.”
He extended an arm toward the door.
Grace strode past him with an air of certainty she didn’t feel, and then marched down a long corridor. It was empty. She approached a side door and glanced surreptitiously around, listening for any other voices or footsteps approaching. When none met her ears she opened the door and slipped inside, waiting for Everett to follow her into the small storage closet.
Once inside he closed the door behind them. For a long moment he faced the closed portal and all she could do was stare at his broad back. He was an incredibly intimidating figure. Finally, he turned and pegged her with his most withering glare. It was all she could do not to cringe as he crossed muscular arms over his chest. “I say, lass, what in the bloody hell were you doing with him? I told you to stay away.”
Grace mustered her courage and scowled back at him, refusing to be cowed by his condescension. “I am the head nurse, Everett. I can tend any patient in this hospital that I please.”
“Don’t you see what a dangerous situation you put yourself in?” He tossed his hands up, clearly exasperated. “I walked in on a rebel soldier begging you to help him escape this hospital. Your hands were clasped with his and the conversation was so intense you didn’t even hear me approach. What if it had been someone else? Someone like Sarah or that bastard Schaffer.”
Grace shivered at the prospect. “Try to understand, Everett. I n
eeded to see him.”
“You took a huge, unnecessary risk!”
“He’s my family. I would do anything to make sure my sister doesn’t lose her husband as I did. Anything.”
“What are you saying, Grace?”
“I’ve seen you with the Confederate soldiers,” she said in a low tone. “You treat them the same as the Union troops. You seem to be the only other person in this godforsaken place to believe they are human beings.”
Everett shrugged. “It’s my duty to care for the sick and wounded. I took an oath as a physician.”
Grace stepped forward. “It’s more than that,” she pressed earnestly. “I can feel it.”
The anger in Everett’s eyes faltered. He sighed, sitting on a crate and resting his elbows on his knees. He raked his hands through his hair. “Have I told you why I became a doctor?”
Grace shook her head, her eyes fixed on him.
“When I was a boy my family traveled from our home in Ireland to England. There was a fire at the country inn where we were staying and my mother and sister were badly burned. The country doctor refused to care for them until all of the English were tended to even though my mother and sister were the most severely injured.” Familiar anger welled in his chest. “They were left to die because they were Irish.” He squared his broad shoulders. “Maybe they would have died anyway, but I vowed to never let anyone in my charge befall their fate.”
Grace ached at the heartbreaking tale. “Then I think you understand why I don’t want our Confederate patients going to a prison camp.”
“Of course I understand.” Everett replied, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “Some of those boys are barely eighteen if they’re a day, but this is a damned war, and I have no say in it.” His voice dropped to nary a whisper. “I know what you’re thinking, Grace, the answer is no. Absolutely not.”
“But, Everett, we’re patching them up to rot in a prison camp.”
True North Page 5
