by Naomi Finley
I looked over my shoulder at Armstrong, lying unmoving, before I threw back my head and howled at the sky, savoring the rain of blood. I was Reuben McCoy, and I had been reborn.
Bowden
AS MY EYES FLUTTERED OPEN, my heart clenched at the illusion of the beautiful brunette leaning over me. “Willow?” I whispered through dry, cracked lips. Pain radiated through my left shoulder and gut.
The fogginess clogging my brain cleared, and I regarded the warm chestnut eyes of a girl not more than eighteen. She wore a nurse’s uniform smeared with blood, and dark circles of exhaustion rimmed her eyes. “I’m glad you could join us. I figured you were a goner for sure,” she said.
I frowned, trying to recall how I had ended up in this condition. Visions of the battle unfolded, and I recollected the shot that had struck my shoulder but hadn’t taken me down. I sorted through the images and gasped as I recalled turning and standing face to face with a Union soldier I recognized. My own shock, united with the confusion in Reuben McCoy’s eyes, had given me pause. After a brief hesitation, his lips had whispered my name. It’d all happened so fast, and before I could react he’d sent his sword through my gut. I’d lain on the ground, helpless and incapacitated, bleeding out as horses and men raced about. Then darkness had claimed me.
I focused on the moaning and movement around me, observing the tent and the injured soldiers lying in cots and any empty spots. I ached for the suffering of my countrymen.
“Here,” a soft voice said. “Drink this.” The nurse leaned down, hoisted my head, and placed a cool metal cup to my lips.
I drank with urgency.
“Slowly,” she said as I broke into a coughing spell.
After the spasm had subsided, I relaxed back against the pillow, surprised at the exhaustion caused by the mere task of drinking. “What is your name?” I studied her freckled face and wheat-colored plaits.
“I go by Clem.”
“Clementine?”
She set the cup on the stand by my cot and gave me a disapproving look, and I sensed her dislike for the name.
“You remind me of someone,” I said.
“Willow?” She gave me a bold stare.
“No, that is my wife. We have a girl that works in the sick hospital on our plantation. Her name is Kimie. She has nursed plenty of us and our slaves back to health. Our doctor says she is a fine nurse.”
“A sick hospital and your own doctor?” Her eyes widened in awe. “You and your family must be wealthy.”
“We have done all right.”
“Makes me wonder who has more to lose in this war, the rich or the poor. My pa died when I was small, and it has only been me and my ma. After Federal soldiers burned our farm to the ground, we went to live with my uncle in the city.” I observed her while she talked. The lack of laugh lines and the rigid way she held her mouth informed me she was the solemn sort. “I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, but Ma forbade it. When I saw an advertisement calling all able bodies to help in the war, I asked for her permission to join, but she refused.”
“But here you are…” I winced and clutched my abdomen.
“Easy now.” She swatted my hand away, and I pulled it back like a scolded child. She peeled back my bandage to take a gander, and her serious expression deepened. She retrieved scissors from a tray of dressings and cut the binding free. “One day after Ma had left to do errands, I packed my satchel and hitched a ride in the back of an army supply wagon heading to the Confederate camps.” She pulled the dirtied dressing out from under me, and I regarded the gnarly sutures on my torso. “Someone stuck you good. Their sword went clean through you. The doc removed the ball in your shoulder, but this wound gave him the most concern.”
“How many days have I been in this bed?”
“Five days or so, I reckon. Your regiment has moved on, under the command of a general by the name of Robert E. Lee. They renew the fight to drive the Union out of Virginia.”
“Robert E. Lee? What happened to General Johnston?”
“I overheard an officer say that General Johnston was severely wounded and had been replaced by a Robert E. Lee.”
My thoughts turned to Knox. “Has anyone come to see me?”
“No. Did you expect someone?” Her eyes held mine as she pulled the blanket up to cover my naked chest.
“Another soldier. A friend.” I took another quick survey of the room, scanning for Knox’s bulk on the cots.
“No one has come that I know of.”
I tried to sit up. A ripping sensation moved through my middle, and I let out a yelp.
“Serves you right.” Clem pressed her hands against my chest. “Stay still, or your wound will reopen, and I can’t say when the doc will be able to see you again. The wounded stretch as far as the eye can see.”
I complied with her orders, seething in frustration at my frailty. “Can you inquire about the whereabouts of a recruit named Knox Tucker?”
“I’ll do my best, but I don’t get to go far. We are overworked and understaffed. The wounded are dying while waiting for our attention. You would have been lying out there still if I hadn’t been drawn to your delirious calling for your wife.”
“You brought me here?”
“No, someone brought you to lie outside with the others to wait for the doctor. During my rounds of checking for the severely injured, I discovered you.”
I glanced at a man lying on a cot across from me, with bloodied compresses covering the stumps where his arms once were. “But surely my wounds are insignificant compared to others.”
She followed my gaze. “We cauterize the ones with missing limbs, give them some morphine if it’s available, and move to the next. You were bleeding to death. How you hadn’t already bled out astonished the doc and me.”
I glanced back at her. “I assumed my guardian angel would be more of a fellow of stature, not a pint of a girl like you,” I said with a chuckle.
She shrugged. “Well, you got me.”
“And I’m mighty obliged.” I grew serious. “Now, about my friend.”
“What about him?”
“Can you ask around for him?”
“I told you the wounded are many. It would take forever to locate him. For his sake, I hope he’s well and has moved on with your regiment.”
I gripped her small wrist as she started to move away. “Please.”
“All right. If I get a break, I will look into the whereabouts of your friend.”
“Much obliged,” I said.
She turned to leave.
“Clementine?”
She tensed and turned back. A fire sparked in her eyes.
“…is a fine name.”
Her testiness eased, and I saw a hint of a smile before she ducked her head and walked off.
After she departed, I stared at the peak of the tent and thought of Knox and why he hadn’t come to inquire about me. Was he lying wounded somewhere, or worse…dead? I gulped at the burning in my throat.
The memory of the animosity in Reuben’s eyes sent a chill over me. He had stood cloaked in the garb of the Federal Army, but that gave me no peace of mind. Reuben had ruthlessly assumed aliases, and for all I knew, he could be in our camp under a Confederate disguise. This thought left me gravely concerned, and I cursed the weakness confining me. “Stuck in this bed, I’m as helpless as a new foal.” I pounded the cot with a fist.
I felt eyes on me and twisted my neck to find the armless soldier regarding me. I swallowed my self-pity and looked away.
Once Clementine found Knox, I would tell him what had happened out there on the battleground. My thoughts turned to Willow, and I decided against telling her of Reuben or his attempt to kill me. There was no need for her to worry. If he was enlisted, regardless of what side he was on, it meant he was far away from my wife and the folks of Livingston, posing no immediate threat. I found reassurance in that.
Another three days passed before Clementine delivered the news I had pestered her for each day she tende
d me.
“Did you find him?” I asked as soon as she stood over me.
“Yes.” She set a basin of water and fresh clothes on the ground before kneeling beside me.
“Well, out with it. Is everything all right?” My heart hammered, and my agitation grew at her unreadable, solemn expression.
She lifted concerned eyes to meet mine. “I’m afraid your friend has been gravely wounded. The doc fought to save him and has done all he could. Your friend requires a miracle and barely clings to life.”
I felt the color drain from my face. “I must go to him.” I gripped the gray woolen blanket that covered me.
“You will do no such thing.” Clementine pressed her small hands on my shoulders with more strength than I expected from a reedy girl like her.
“Move out of my way,” I said through clenched teeth.
Equally determined, she warned, “You will do as I say, or I’ll have you restrained. Give it a few more days for your injuries to heal, and then you can go see your friend.”
“He may not be alive by then.” I bit my tongue to keep myself from cursing the girl out.
Her eyes challenged me, and I knew better than to resist her in my state, so I stopped fighting for the time being. Sensing I’d relaxed, she released me, picked up a cloth, and dipped it in a basin. I studied her profile while wondering how to get the answers I sought.
“Where are they keeping him?”
Her hands paused their movement, and she tipped her head and raised a brow. “I may be a simple farm girl, but I ain’t a fool. If I gave you that information, you would slip out of here as soon as my back is turned.” She began to wash my chest.
The girl was too smart for my liking. I fumed at the physical weakness that kept me prisoner in the bed. I felt like a helpless baby relying on the care of its mother. Then my determination rallied, and I set my mind to getting on my feet.
“You aren’t the easiest of patients, you know,” she said.
I grunted at her and avoided responding, caring little for what she thought. My mind turned to a problematic patient I had dealt with at medical school. The young man had been determined to leave the hospital before he had fully recovered, and days later his father had returned with him in a worse state than when he had first arrived.
Clementine changed my bandages and left me to my misery. I closed my eyes and envisioned Willow standing on the front veranda clad in an emerald-green taffeta dress. Her smile pulled at her full lips as I strode up the path and gathered her into an embrace. I released a sigh, savoring the fantasy.
Another two days would pass before the doc required the bed, and Clementine and a soldier came to move me to another tent. I winced as they helped me to my feet, and Clementine froze.
“I don’t like this. It’s too soon.” She grunted under the weight of my arm encircling her shoulders.
“I’ll be damned if I let you put me back in that bed. I will see him today, or else…” Knox still clung to the realm of the living, and it’s a good thing he did, or I would’ve cursed him for leaving me to endure the war without him. The fool had been the only light amidst the death and bloodshed.
“Or else what?” She peered up at me, delivering a look that said not to test her. She wasn’t beyond defying the doc and dumping me back in the bed. I needed her, and the annoyance of knowing that had left me seething for days. I grumbled inside. Of all the nurses I could have, why her?
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. You have taken right good care of me, and I thank you.” I delivered my words with as much humbleness as I could muster, pushing away the irritation that she’d played warden with prisoner me.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” Her upturned nose rose a little higher, and approval shone in her eyes.
To my relief, they took a step forward. Splendid—I would see outside of the tent at last. Hope buoyed in me as I took each painful step, trying my best to hide the agony. By the time we reached my new accommodations, I was sweating and fighting within myself to continue.
“Here we are,” she said between heavy breaths.
“All right. Release me and let me manage on my own.”
“I’ll take it from here,” Clementine said to the soldier, who gave me an uncertain look but left at her insistence.
I stood on trembling legs and lifted fingers to brush the sweat dripping into my left eye. “Now, out with it,” I said. “Where is my friend?”
“He is in the last tent.” She pointed in the direction we had come.
“You can’t be serious.” I fixed my jaw. “Why in tarnation didn’t you take me there in the first place?”
“Because you need to rest.” She reached for my arm, and I jerked it away.
“I will see him today.” I turned from her and took a few steps before my head started spinning. I halted, squeezing my eyes closed. “Son-of-a…” Jaw twitching, and without turning to look at her, I asked, “Can you please assist me?”
“I see you aren’t going to listen. I should’ve left you to die outside the tent. You’re simply the worse patient ever.” She slung her arm around my waist, and I put mine over her shoulder. The girl felt like she would break under my weight. She gritted her teeth, looking determined. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
After retracing every agonizing step, we stood outside the medical tent. I shifted to bear my own weight and released her. “I’m good. You can return to your assignments,” I said. “Thank you.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“What?”
“I hope this friend of yours is worth your own health.”
“He is. And more.” I eyed the opening of the tent and swallowed hard. What would I find inside? I moved toward the entrance.
“I will send a soldier for you in ten minutes, so make it quick,” she called after me.
I didn’t reply, but gratitude for her resolve to see me well rose. I stepped inside the tent and regarded each of the men in the cots until I located Knox. One painful step at a time, I walked toward him, my nerves humming with anticipation.
When I reached him I paused at the foot of his cot, taking in his pale flesh and the gauntness of his jawline and thick neck. Someone came to stand beside me, and I never looked to see who until they spoke.
“They are keeping him heavily sedated, but the blockades limit the supply of medicine. So they won’t be able to continue because there are many soldiers in need. I fear he will become another casualty of this damn war.”
I snapped my head sideways to regard the speaker and almost toppled over, but he caught me.
“Jack…” I regarded the shoulder boards on his coat, marking his rank. “My apologies, Lieutenant Barry. What are you doing here?”
Dark skin rimmed his eyes, and days-old scruff shadowed his face. “I serve under General Lee’s command. I read the ledger of patients, and you can imagine my dismay to learn that Knox had been gravely wounded and that his condition hadn’t improved much. To see your name on the list only added to the concern.”
“But I thought the general’s army had moved on to protect the capitol.”
“The general gave me leave to check on Knox. Whitney would have my hide if I didn’t see to him. After seeing his condition for myself, I fear he will rot away in an army hospital or be abandoned because he’s deemed beyond hope.” He removed his slouch hat and regarded his brother-in-law, who had been more of a father to him. Unmasked worry pleated his brow.
I stood on quivering legs and kept my gaze pinned on my friend. A thought occurred to me, and I pondered on it before broaching the subject. “Perhaps I could take him home?”
He shifted to peer at me. “You? You can barely stand on your own two feet.” He noted the sweat beading my forehead.
“Give me three days, and I will be good as new. You could put a word in with the general and ask for my leave to take him home to Livingston. In Kimie’s care, he is sure to recover.”
&
nbsp; “I take it you haven’t heard.” He arched a brow.
“Heard what?”
“That my sister doesn’t reside at Livingston but spends her time aiding the army hospital in Charleston.”
“No, Willow never made any mention of that.” My brow furrowed. Why had she withheld the information from me? “Regardless, Knox should recover at home. You said it yourself about the likelihood of him rotting in an army hospital. The doctor and nurses are too busy to care for him here. New soldiers arrive every day, and soon his cot will be needed, and he will be removed, where death will surely find him. What do we have to lose? The risk of the journey is worth trying to save him.”
He lowered his head and pressed his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose before elevating his eyes to regard me. “Very well, I will ask General Lee to grant you leave to take him home.”
“Thank you.” Hope erupted in my heart.
Someone cleared their throat, and I turned to discover a young recruit standing nearby.
“I’ve been sent to help you back to your tent.”
I resolved to take the next days to recover, because if Jack came through with my leave, I would take Knox home and hold my wife once more.
News arrived that General Lee had granted our request and given me two weeks’ leave. The road between the medical camp and the railroad station would be dangerous, but Jack had assigned a patrol to take us.
The morning I was to leave, I pulled a shirt over my head and slipped my arms through the sleeves, and winced at the tearing and burning sensation in my gut. Dread filled me when I looked down and noticed my wound had reopened. I checked over my shoulder for Clementine, who stood some feet away with her back to me. I grabbed a clean dressing and doubled it before tying another around my middle to keep the blood from soaking through my clothing.