A Stranger On My Land - A Civil War Romance

by Sandra Merville Hart

  Aunt Lavinia had been all for moving Adam to the cabin. She couldn’t wait to get the Yankee out of the front room. She hadn’t been as thrilled with the idea of her niece visiting the army camp, but on this point Carrie remained firm. It provided the only possibility of saving Adam’s life. This afternoon, Jay would help carry supplies to them and then remain with Aunt Lavinia. Adam must wait in solitude while Carrie climbed the mountain.

  Her fretful aunt refused to be left alone in the cave. Star remained to protect her while they were gone. Jay would stay at the cave to care for the livestock and his aunt. It wasn’t the best arrangement, but Carrie couldn’t come up with a better plan in light of Aunt Lavinia’s nerves.

  A few feet from the door, Adam tripped over a jutting tree root. They both hit the ground hard. Adam groaned as he landed on the injured arm and lost consciousness. Winded and exhausted, Carrie laid next to him long enough to catch her breath. Then, dusty and covered with dead leaves, she pushed to her feet. She tried to lift him by his shoulders. It didn’t work as he only budged a few inches.

  “Adam!” No response. “Adam, please. You must help me. I can’t lift you.”

  He didn’t awaken. No amount of tugging moved his unconscious form more than a couple of inches toward the cabin.

  She sank to her knees. The door was only eight feet from where Adam lay. It felt more like a mile. “Jay! Come out here and help me!”

  The cabin door opened, and Jay rushed outside without a coat. “Is he dead?” Fear washed over his face.

  Carrie shook her head. “He fell on his injured arm and passed out. Help me get him inside.”

  She moved to Adam’s right side, careful of his injury as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Jay took a strong hold of Adam’s left arm. The good food Adam had eaten in the time he’d been with them must have helped him put on some weight. Using their combined strength, they couldn’t budge him even a foot closer.

  Carrie gave another mighty tug and fell on her backside, panting.

  “He’s too heavy.” Ever practical, Jay moved to sit beside her. “He’s gonna have to help us or stay where he’s at.”

  Carrie silently acknowledged the truth. Her strength had almost been spent by half-carrying Adam along the trail. She didn’t have enough left to get him inside, but how could they awaken him? Even with all the tugging, the poor man remained unconscious.

  Her eyes went to his wounded arm. He’d fallen on it and then lost consciousness. If she poked the wound, would he awaken?

  With nothing to lose, she crawled over to him. She tried tapping on his arm, but he merely stirred. Mouth set firmly, she doubled her small hand into a fist and struck the bandage.

  Adam groaned and opened his eyes. His lips compressed.

  Carrie leaned over him. “Adam! We’re almost to the cabin. I’m sorry about punching you, but we couldn’t get you inside any other way. Please help us. Can you get up and walk inside?”

  Although pain clouded his eyes, he managed to grin. “You punched me to awaken me? That was a right good wallop as my buddies would say.”

  Carrie could have wept, so great was her relief at his teasing. “Try to get on your feet. Jay made a nice, warm fire inside.”

  Adam winked at Jay. “Good man. Thanks, Jay.”

  He struggled to his feet with support from both of them. Within a couple of minutes, he laid on Papa’s old mattress in front of the fireplace that Jay had prepared for him. Carrie managed to give him a dipper of water before he fell into a troubled sleep clutching his injured arm.

  • CHAPTER NINE •

  Carrie and Jay made a trip back to the cave for blankets and food. Then he reluctantly returned to the cave to care for Aunt Lavinia after a strong warning from his sister to remain there.

  Carrie watched him trudge back to the shelter from the window, hoping he heeded her request this time. Generally obedient, he hated the confinement of the cave. He loved the outdoors. Being cooped up inside weighed heavily on him, but his safety depended upon it. The army surgeon wouldn’t come alone. Yankees would soon be milling around on their property. If Jay left the shelter when soldiers were near, they could easily find the cave entrance.

  She sighed and turned toward Adam, still sleeping near the fireplace. The main room had warmed up nicely with a crackling fire. The warmth after a long walk would likely keep Adam comfortable and cozy for a couple of hours. She’d best make the trek up the mountain before darkness settled in.

  After carrying the water bucket and dipper to Adam’s side, she sliced a wedge of cornbread. She placed the plate next to the water within his easy reach.

  Kneeling at his side, she stared at him. The pain on his face didn’t ease as he slept. The walk had exhausted the wounded soldier. They had almost dragged him those last few steps. He hadn’t complained once, but he hadn’t felt like leaving the cave. She had to admire his compassion and courage. He had walked this difficult path so the troops wouldn’t find her shelter. Her livestock and food should now be safe. He had saved them.

  Now it was her turn. She touched his rough whiskers with her fingertips. His skin felt too warm. Worried about the fever, she realized the powders that might relieve it were back at the cave. It couldn’t be helped now. Undoubtedly, the doctor would have whatever Adam required.

  This would likely be her last time alone with him. She would miss him when they took him away. He had become very dear to her. If things had been different … “Lord, please save Adam’s life. Send a surgeon who knows how to help him. Don’t let him die, Lord. Oh, please don’t let him die.”

  Thankfully, her whispered prayer didn’t awaken Adam.

  It was past time to go. She stood. After putting on her warm cloak, she gave him a final lingering glance.

  She stepped out into the cold. The path to the mountain road was barely wide enough for a wagon in a couple of places where underbrush had started to grow again from lack of use. Following the road up the mountain should lead to army troops. This afternoon she walked openly, wanting to be seen. Setting a brisk pace as the wind increased on the gloomy day, she climbed the mountain, praying for Adam’s life and the safety of her family.

  Despite her trepidation at meeting Union soldiers, she enjoyed her first freedom since artillery shells had destroyed parts of Chattanooga in August. Today she didn’t hide her presence from watchful eyes. Instead, she wanted to be found.

  About an hour later, she heard men’s voices. Before she could register the direction of the sound, six soldiers joined her on the road. Their blue coats showed traces of mud with a few tears. The oldest might be in his early thirties while the youngest had no need to shave yet. They carried knapsacks, wooden canteens, and rifles with the business end pointed to the ground.

  They all stared at her. Knowing that most of the residents all over the mountain had fled, she understood their surprise. It didn’t lessen the fear that overtook her.

  One of the older ones stepped forward. He touched his cap respectfully. “I’m Sergeant Dan Young. Pardon our surprise, Miss. We haven’t seen anyone but soldiers up here. Where are you headed?”

  His courteous manner slowed her heartbeat to a more normal rhythm, but her hands shook visibly. She tucked them under her cloak. “I’m Carrie Bishop. I need a doctor.”

  He exchanged a glance with the man next to him.

  “It’s … it’s not for me. It’s for you. I mean, at least it’s for one of your soldiers. Adam Hendricks was shot during the battle last week. He’s with the Ninety-Ninth Ohio.”

  His eyes widened. They all straightened, seeming more alert.

  “My bro—er, that is, I found him last Wednesday.” Her glance slid nervously from face to face, hoping they would help. “I’ve been caring for him ever since. I’ve done all I can do. He needs doctoring.”

  They all looked at the sergeant. “He’s been missing,” said the only clean-shaven man.

  “Hugh Bellamy was looking for him after the battle. I figured he got captured,” said a
nother.

  “Reckon we can carry him up to the surgeon.”

  “No!” Remembering his fever, Carrie didn’t believe Adam could survive another rugged trek so soon. “Please, can you bring the surgeon to him? He’s doing poorly.”

  “Guess we’d better inform Lieutenant Otto,” Sergeant Young said. “Baker, come with me. The rest of you return to picket duty.”

  The thin officer’s gaze returned to Carrie as four men disappeared into the brush. “This way, Miss Bishop.”

  She followed the men until dozens of tents appeared. Sergeant Young led the way to one of the larger tents. Asking her to wait outside with Private Baker, he stepped inside.

  Wind whipped around her skirt, causing her to shiver. Not much taller than her, Private Baker appeared the bashful sort. He scuffed his muddy shoes in the dirt to avoid looking at her.

  Afraid that all the trouble to get to the camp might come to naught, she pulled her cloak tighter against her. How long would this conversation take? She’d been gone well over an hour already. Adam would awaken and need her.

  A man wearing a dark blue coat with stripes on the sleeve emerged moments later. Of average height with a graying beard, he nodded respectfully. “Miss Bishop, I’m Lieutenant Otto. I hear you’ve been caring for one of our men.”

  “Yes, Adam Hendricks is at my family’s cabin.” His watchful gaze didn’t change, and she didn’t know if he would agree to send a doctor. “Please, he’s very ill. He’s been shot twice. I think the bullets are still inside. He’s feverish. Even though I kept the wounds clean, they don’t look good to me.”

  “There are surgeons here. We’ll send an ambulance. We appreciate your care for him.” He turned to the sergeant.

  Carrie heard him give orders for an ambulance with horror. Adam wouldn’t survive a wagon ride on this rocky, steep road. She grabbed the lieutenant’s arm. “Please, sir, send the doctor to Adam. The bullets should be removed and then he’ll need to recover his strength.”

  His expression showed that compassion fought the necessity of hard decisions. “Miss, we have sick and wounded here that demand attention. A hospital has been set up. He’ll be in good hands.”

  Why wouldn’t he listen to her? Her eyes pleaded with him. “You don’t understand. I fear he won’t survive the hardship of a trip today. Please send a surgeon to him. The doctor won’t have to stay after he removes the bullets. If he leaves instructions, I’ll follow them.”

  He frowned, but appeared to be wavering.

  “Please, sir. You can’t afford to lose another good man if it can be helped.”

  He stared at her for a second before chuckling. “Miss Bishop, Adam’s a lucky fellow to have found such a champion.” He rubbed his whiskered chin. “Sergeant, see if any of the surgeons can be spared until morning.”

  Sergeant Young grinned at her before he strode away.

  Relief flooded over Carrie. “Oh, thank you, Lieutenant Otto. It’s awfully good of you.”

  “Happy to be of service, little lady.” He started to reenter the tent, but turned back. “One word of caution. The surgeon will make the decision as to when Adam can be moved. If that’s in the morning, so be it.”

  Carrie dared not argue. “Of course. I only have Adam’s well-being in mind.”

  “And I must consider dozens of men. You may wait inside for the ambulance if you wish.” He gestured toward his tent.

  Carrie didn’t know if it would be proper to accept his hospitality, but couldn’t relax anyway. “No, thank you most kindly. I’ll wait here for the surgeon.”

  He nodded respectfully and went inside.

  Fifteen minutes went by as she waited in the cold with the bashful soldier. She began to pace to restore feeling to her feet. She hadn’t properly prepared for the biting wind of the higher altitude.

  As dusk approached on the dismal afternoon, fog descended over the mountain. Carrie began to worry that it would be fully dark before they reached the cabin. The fog would only add to the danger of descending the winding, steep grade. Another ten minutes passed before a four-wheeled vehicle came into sight. With canvas sides and a roof, it bore a yellow flag with a red “H.”

  Sergeant Young gestured to the soldier on the ground. “Here, Baker, take the reins.” He waited until Baker held the reins before jumping down. “Miss Bishop, Dr. Hastings agreed to go to Adam. Please ride inside with him.” He led the way to the back, which was completely open. “You’ll be a bit warmer in here, Ma’am. We’ll take the road down. Let us know when we’re getting close.”

  Dr. Hastings, a graying man of about forty, stood slightly and lifted his hat to acknowledge an introduction by Sergeant Young. A large leather bag rested on the bunk near him. The sergeant unfolded one of the lower bunks from the side of the vehicle for her before joining Baker up front.

  Carrie perched on the wooden bench nervously, hoping the doctor didn’t find it an imposition to help her. Then she lifted her chin. This trip wasn’t for her, but for one of this army’s soldiers. She wouldn’t apologize for the inconvenience.

  Dr. Hastings asked several questions about Adam, his wounds, and his condition before settling into silence. The gruff man seemed weary and soon fell asleep sitting up, despite the bumpy ride.

  • CHAPTER TEN •

  Dense fog made the mountain road more dangerous. Baker slowed the horses to a walk until the fog dissipated for the last mile of the journey. The smell of burning wood along with wisps of smoke from the chimney led the soldiers to Carrie’s home, making it unnecessary to supply directions. When they arrived, Carrie didn’t wait for anyone to assist her from the ambulance. She raced inside, closely followed by Sergeant Young.

  Face flushed with fever, Adam opened his eyes as they entered. Carrie dropped to her knees at his side. “Adam, I’ve brought Dr. Hastings for you.”

  He managed a smile as the door closed behind the doctor.

  The older man knelt awkwardly on the floor. “Soldier, you’ve caused a lot of trouble today. This young woman insisted I come to you.”

  Chagrin mingled with gratitude on Adam’s face as he glanced from Dr. Hastings to Carrie. “I regret the inconvenience, Dr. Hastings.”

  A twinkle appeared in the doctor’s eyes as he winked. “Glad to do it, son. Let’s see about getting you fixed up and back to your duties.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The doctor supported Adam’s back to lift him to a seated position. Adam greeted the sergeant, who he seemed to know. With the sergeant’s assistance, they removed Adam’s outer clothing until coming to the nightshirt with a sleeve cut away. The doctor examined the swollen, bruised arm for several minutes, probing and prodding while Adam clenched his teeth.

  Carrie picked up the plate of untouched food she’d left at Adam’s side and moved the bucket back to the stove that Papa bought shortly before Mama died. She waited tensely, her gaze fixed on Adam’s closed eyes.

  “I believe one of the bullets lodged on the outside of the arm.” Adam put his fingers on a spot near the elbow.

  Dr. Hastings probed the area. “Yes, that one shouldn’t be a problem to remove.” He continued to examine the entire arm.

  Baker entered as the doctor came to a decision.

  He rose to his feet, glancing at Carrie. Walking toward one of the two bedrooms, he stopped at the threshold. “Those bullets must be removed. We’ll use the table for the operation. Gentlemen, please carry the table in here. Build a fire in the heat stove before moving the patient in here.”

  The soldiers went about following his instructions.

  Carrie saw Adam watching the doctor open his leather bag and shifted her gaze. Among the items were bandages, scissors, and medicine bottles. Dr. Hastings took out a fine wooden box with a fancy design on top. She felt the blood drain from her face at the collection of small to large ebony handled knives nestled inside the deceptively beautiful box. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming at the sight of a saw sharp enough to go through a bone.

  Sh
e had heard of amputations being performed on soldiers, but she’d never met anyone who lost a limb in such a way. Is that what Dr. Hastings planned to do? Must Adam lose his arm?

  Before she could react, Adam spoke up. “Will you be able to save my arm, Dr. Hastings?”

  The doctor didn’t even glance at Adam’s ashen face. “I can try, son.”

  “Doctor?” When the man continued to search through the medicine bottles, Adam raised his voice. “Dr. Hastings, please try to remove the bullets and any splintered bones only.”

  Distracted with preparations, Dr. Hastings glanced over as the soldiers carried the table from the room. “Of course, son.”

  Devastated by the dismissive response, Adam closed his eyes. Reaching over with his good left hand, he moved his fingers up his right arm as if feeling it for the last time.

  Carrie dropped to her knees at Adam’s side, her heart breaking for him. “Dr. Hastings, can you save his arm?”

  The desperate question finally broke through the doctor’s concentration with his task. He stopped his preparations to consider the couple staring at him fearfully. “I don’t know, young lady.” He sighed. “The bullets have been lodged inside well over a week, which presents a problem. There’s certain to be fragments of bone. His fever is high. I’m not convinced it’s worth the attempt.”

  “That’s because it’s not your arm!” Carrie leaped to her feet, angry that he didn’t even plan to try. “Please, sir, you’ve come all this way. Saving his life is the most important thing, but won’t you do what you can to save his arm? He’s still a young man. Besides, he can’t shoot a rifle with one arm, can he? Don’t you need every good man you can get?”

  The gruff man’s bushy eyebrows almost met as he stared at her, perplexed and angry. Then he began to chuckle. “The sergeant warned me you don’t quit. You’re a lucky man, Adam Hendricks, to have such a guardian angel on your side. Very well, I’ll do what I can.” His face turned grim. “No promises. Adam, those are serious wounds, neglected far too long. If you’re a praying man, I suggest you get to it. We’ll begin once the fire’s lit.”