Lord, please speak to them. May they understand how much You love them.
When she had finished the account, several men thanked her. The rest rolled to their sides and prepared for sleep. Josiah still lay shivering, but a more peaceful expression now filled his face.
“Try to close your eyes,” she said. “I will be right here if you need me.”
Sleep came but only in snatches. The fever held on. He shivered and clutched his blankets while she sponged his face and gave him what little water he could manage.
The hours dragged on. The role of night nurse was more difficult than Emily had first realized.
Men who she had never once heard complain in the daytime now revealed the depths of their pain. In sleep they groaned over their wounds, tightened their muscles and thrashed restlessly in their beds. Others cursed the enemy.
Emily moved quietly between the rows of iron cots, soothing glistening foreheads, softly singing hymns and whispering many prayers. The cries of pain weighed heavily upon her. She wanted to serve, knew she was desperately needed, but, oh, how she missed the daylight. She missed the other nurses, even Dr. Mackay’s constant presence. Tonight she felt so alone.
But I am not alone, she told herself. God is with me and a sentinel stands guard at the doorway. Emily glanced at him. He appeared, however, to be getting drowsy.
He must be used to these sounds.
Her eerie vigil continued. Emily paced back and forth, replacing tossed linens and trying to comfort those trapped in their nightmarish worlds. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Edward gave a shout.
“Press forward!”
She jumped at the sound of his commanding voice, then recognized what was happening. He was giving orders in his sleep. Before she could cross the room, Edward threw the blankets from his bed. Moving with energy she had not known he possessed, he came charging toward her.
“I don’t care what you see, soldier! Move!”
Emily gently touched his shoulder. “Edward, wake up.”
Her words failed to penetrate his dream. His wrinkled nightshirt now his honor-bedecked uniform, he waved his right arm wildly as though brandishing a gleaming sword.
“Up the hill! Up the hill!”
Pain gripped her heart as she realized what hill he was so desperately trying to take. It was the one where Stephen had fallen. She tried once more, this time a little louder. “Eddie, wake up!”
“Take cover!” he shouted.
Emily looked over to the guard for help, but the man was asleep. How he and the rest of the ward weren’t on their feet, scurrying for safety, was beyond her.
“Eddie, please, lay back down.” She gave Edward a gentle tug, hoping to lead him back to his bed.
He grabbed her arm. For a wounded man his grip was like iron.
“Where is Stephen?” he demanded.
His eyes were wide with determined intensity. They frightened her.
“He...he isn’t here.”
His grip tightened. “What have you done to him? Talk, you dirty Yankee!”
Her heart was pounding.
I must calm him! I must get him settled before he hurts someone!
Emily struggled to free herself but could not.
“Eddie, it’s me, Emmy! Let go!”
Footsteps pounded quickly across the boards. She expected the sleeping guard had roused and was coming to her aid. It was Dr. Mackay, however, who pried Edward’s fingers from her throbbing arm, yet not before her childhood friend had dug so deeply into her skin that she could not help but cry out in pain. Edward struggled, but the doctor overpowered him.
“Don’t hurt him!” Emily begged. “Please don’t hurt him!”
“Stephen!” Edward cried.
“Aye. This way, Major. The ground has been taken. Your comrade is accounted for.”
With that, Edward instantly relaxed and in a matter of moments, Dr. Mackay had him back in his bed, coaxing him to sleep. She watched, heart in her throat, until she realized how badly she was shaking. The last thing Emily wanted was for Dr. Mackay to see her fear.
He will think me incompetent. He will have me removed.
She moved toward the supply cabinet. The guard was now fully awake, but Emily paid him no mind. Her arm was numb, her chest heaving. She tried desperately to gather her composure but couldn’t stop trembling. Edward had been convinced she was the enemy. She shuddered to think what he might have done to her had Dr. Mackay not arrived when he did.
Then an even darker thought pressed her. Has Dr. Mackay seen Edward do such things before? Is that why he recommended me for this position, so that I might truly see what has become of my friend?
Emily shook even harder. Her mind was racing, her body torn between running away and simply sinking to the floor in tears.
Get a hold of yourself! she commanded. Show courage!
“If this ever happens again, I will see to it that you are court-martialed! Do you understand?”
She turned to see the Northern physician towering over the now-trembling guard. Emily gulped, knowing when he had finished Dr. Mackay would certainly release what was left of his anger on her.
“You are here to protect her from them!” he said.
Protect me?
Somehow throughout all of it, the ward snored on. She supposed it must be the morphine. When Dr. Mackay finished blasting the guard, he turned and moved toward her. His steps were determined, his forehead furrowed with that disdainful growl. Emily braced herself, but the hard stance eased when he reached her.
“Are you well, lass?”
Lass? Not nurse! Not you little rebel! The man had actually addressed her with a term of endearment, of concern. She was at a loss for words.
“Your dress is torn.”
Emily looked down to see that he was right. Her sleeve had been slashed from elbow to wrist. What remained of the cloth was stained by a small trickle of blood.
My own, she thought. By Eddie’s hand.
“Let me examine it.” He didn’t wait for her to grant permission. Accustomed to having his orders followed, the Federal doctor simply took her arm in hand and began unfastening the cuff.
Aghast, Emily drew back. The man had no sense of propriety. “That isn’t necessary,” she said.
She watched as he reddened, but this time it wasn’t in anger. “Forgive me,” he said, realizing how uncomfortable he had made her. “I am not accustomed to... You are bleeding. The wound should be tended to stave off infection.”
Compared to those around her shivering with fever and moaning in pain, her injuries could hardly be considered a wound, but Edward’s ragged nails had drawn blood. Dr. Mackay was right. She should not risk infection. She surrendered her arm.
He lifted the fabric. His hands were warm, careful. “Does this hurt?” he asked.
“Not as it did before.”
“Good. I do, however, detect swelling.”
The pressure of his touch was unnerving. Emily’s heart was pounding, and, regrettably, she was still trembling. If he noticed that, though, he did not say.
He reached for a clean cloth from the basket on the table beside them. He carefully blotted the blood. Emily did not know what to make of this gentle side of him, but she hoped it would continue, for her sake and everyone else’s.
“Please don’t be angry with Ed—” she caught herself “—the major. He didn’t realize what he was doing.”
Dr. Mackay’s jaw twitched, but his voice remained calm. “They never do.”
“I thank you for your handling of the situation. I do not believe I could have settled him on my own.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” he said, without looking up. “He is much too strong for you.”
She cringed. Why did I say that? Why did I just admit failure? Will he not use it against me?
“It stings, I know. For that I am sorry.”
Sorry? Twice now he had apologized. Emily did not know what to think. Before her was not the angry, arrogant Federal
doctor she had grown so used to seeing, but a different man entirely.
Have I been wrong about him? Could it be that beneath that blue wool vest and abrasive personality beats the heart of a good man?
“The major is your friend, is he not?”
Emily answered truthfully. “Yes. We went to school together. His closest friend, Captain Stephen Hastings, was recently killed.”
Having cleansed the wound, he reached for a bandage. He said nothing more.
* * *
Evan’s guilt weighed heavily upon him. In reality he knew the tussle with the reb hadn’t come to much, but it could have. She recognized that as well, for though she was doing her best to appear brave, she was still trembling.
I should have known better.
He’d been in the army long enough to know the dangers delirious men suffering from chronic nostalgia sometimes posed. He had known for a fact that this particular reb was troubled.
What was I thinking recommending her for this position, knowing what she would face? Look at her, barely five feet tall, mostly petticoats and ribbons at that.
He had told himself that she could handle things like this, that as a nurse she should have expected such and been prepared, but Mary’s warning rang through his mind. Forgive, my love, or the poison of hatred will turn you into the very enemies you so despise.
Evan hoped Nurse Emily’s Southern sympathy hadn’t caused him to intentionally place her in danger. Am I really that cold? No. I can’t be. “I think t’would be better for you if you returned to your daytime tasks.”
Her fear was immediately replaced by a different emotion. Her eyes widened in obvious dismay.
“Oh, please, Dr. Mackay, don’t do that! Please let me stay on as night nurse.”
He was completely surprised. “Given what just happened to you, I should think you would want to leave as quickly as possible.”
“But he didn’t mean any harm. I know that. The opportunities on night duty are so plentiful.”
“Opportunities for what?”
“To read the Bible with the men, to pray for them.”
That was hardly what he had expected her to say. Though he supposed if she wished to spread rebel propaganda, she wouldn’t be so foolish as to admit that.
“The men are starved for spiritual comfort,” she insisted.
At that moment she sounded so much like Mary that his heart ached. Her faith had been of the utmost importance to her, a source of strength. She had longed for others to experience it, as well.
In this case Evan thought Nurse Emily’s efforts pointless. Men willing to make war against their own nation would not be interested in the Gospel. Yet there was something compelling about her eagerness to try.
He had to admit, too, that her kindness toward him these past few weeks was making it increasingly difficult to view her as one of those Pratt Street scoundrels.
“Please allow me to stay.”
He took a long look at her, the bandaged arm, the torn sleeve and the pleading eyes. Her devotion was misguided but commendable. If she wanted to finish out her duties in this ward, he would let her, but he would be watching.
“Very well then,” he said. “Go back to your Bible stories.”
Her face literally glowed. “You mean you will let me continue?”
“Aye, but don’t be reading them any stories of war, of victory. Best not to encourage them.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“And don’t be thinking you can handle that major on your own. If he rouses again, you call out for help.”
“I will.”
She looked at him with those wide blue eyes, appreciative and eager. She is a pretty little lass, he thought. Golden hair and all.
He quickly shook off the thought. Obviously his lack of sleep was hindering his senses. “Go on now,” he told her. “See to that one there shuddering with fever.”
She nodded, then scurried off. Watching, he couldn’t help but think, If only everyone in this hospital was as conscientious of duty as she.
Chapter Six
Emily expected Dr. Mackay to leave, but he did not. Claiming a chair, he took up residence in the far corner of the room. He checked his watch, then, after putting it away, crossed his arms over his chest. The look said he dared any prisoner, guard or nurse to step out of line.
Emily found his vigil unnerving and comforting at the same time. Every time a soldier’s cry punctuated the sour air, she twitched. Dr. Mackay evidently had the same trouble. Although he dozed with his chin on his chest from time to time, his head quickly snapped to attention at any threatening sound.
She could tell by the lines on his face that he was exhausted, that he needed real rest. Caution kept her from encouraging him to seek it. If he was there to make certain she was performing her duties in a loyal manner, he might think she was eager to be rid of him. That would only heighten his suspicion of her.
On the other hand, if he had taken up residence for her benefit, as a measure of protection, she would not discourage it, not tonight, at least. She was still shaken.
At present, Edward lay lost in deep sleep. Emily knew he had never consciously meant to harm her, that he would never forgive himself if he knew he had. Still, she had to admit, she was now afraid of him. How could her childhood friend address her as such one moment, then claim she was the enemy in the next? What war raged within him?
She looked over to the now-snoring Federal doctor. And what war rages inside him?
For a man so disgusted by Southerners, twice he had come to her aid. This time in doing so he had also shown compassion toward Edward. She still didn’t know what Dr. Mackay believed concerning eternity, but she figured there must be some seed of faith within him, some measure of Christ’s love.
The room remained relatively quiet as the hours ticked on. Josiah Bush’s fever broke just before dawn. Emily breathed a grateful sigh and settled back in her chair as the sun began rising over the harbor. The light of day crept slowly across the wooden floor, yet darkness flittered about her eyes. Sleep was calling. She struggled to resist.
Around six Dr. Mackay awoke, rubbed the knot from his neck and exited the ward. The stewards and day orderlies arrived. Rebekah came on shortly thereafter.
“Did you pass a long night?” she asked Emily.
“A restless one.”
She noticed the bandage. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Emily didn’t want to make more out of it than it actually was. “Just a scuffle with a sleepwalking soldier,” she said.
Rebekah’s eyebrow arched. “Which soldier?”
Emily told her, quietly. Rebekah’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Dear me,” she gasped. “Edward? You must have been terrified! What if it happens again?”
Emily wouldn’t allow herself to think of that. There will not be a next time. “I’m fine. Dr. Mackay handled the situation quite well. Edward has slept soundly ever since.”
“You should go home and get some rest.”
“I intend to.” She gave her the report on the other men’s conditions, then gathered her books. The breakfast trays had arrived. Already Edward sat nibbling at his. He looked at her as she passed by. The expression on his face told her he had no recollection whatsoever of the previous night.
She offered what she hoped was a pleasant smile as she quickly left the ward. Sam and Julia were in the corridor. Emily immediately covered her torn sleeve with her pinner apron before either of them noticed. There was no use upsetting them. They had enough on their minds already.
“How is he this morning?” Julia immediately asked.
Emily chose her words carefully. “He spent a restless night, but he is awake now and eating.”
Julia bit her lip, then looked at her husband.
Something must be wrong, Emily thought.
Sure enough, Sam explained. “We have some news, but we aren’t certain we should share it with Edward.”
Emily’s throat tightened. �
��What news?”
“Sally sent a telegram. They have found Stephen. They are bringing him home for burial.”
Her heart sank. It was good and proper to lay Stephen to rest, but the news of his body being found was like learning of his death all over again.
“Do you think we should tell Edward?” Julia asked.
Emily did not know. What would such knowledge do to him? She had heard that some doctors advocated telling a soldier everything, that forcing them to relive the moments of the battlefield in someone else’s presence actually helped them.
But after last night? What if such details bring more grief?
The staircase above them creaked, and Emily turned to see Dr. Mackay making his way toward them. He was wearing a fresh shirt, had shaved and combed his hair. The look in his eyes, however, mirrored Emily’s own exhaustion.
“He will know what to do,” she said. “We should ask him.”
“Ask me what?” Dr. Mackay said gruffly.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ward received word concerning our mutual friend, Captain Hastings.”
“The one who died,” he said, as if telling her to get to the point.
Not one inkling of sympathy registered on his face. The gentleman who had mended her arm, who’d shown such compassion, was gone. The formidable Federal doctor was back. Emily now hesitated to ask him anything.
“His body has been found and his family is bringing him home for burial.”
“And you want to know if you should tell him.”
“Yes,” Sam and Julia both said.
Dr. Mackay cast them a perturbed glance, then directed those bayonet-gray eyes at her. Emily could feel the chill.
“Is he lucid this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should tell him. Put the matter to rest immediately.” He looked at Sam and Julia. “Then both of you should leave.”
He stormed off, slamming the door to the ward behind him. Emily was horrified. She had come to him for wisdom and he had cast her and her friends aside as if they were yesterday’s soiled bandages. She looked at them. Pale and confused, Julia clutched Sam’s arm.
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