by Ginny Dye
Aunt Abby laughed joyously and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “It’s a dream come true, Carrie! I’ll be counting the minutes until you’re done up at the hospital today. We have so very much to catch up on. I know we’ll only touch the surface today but I intend to make the most of it.”
“Embrace the joy…” Carrie murmured. “And I’ll explain that later,” she promised as she ran down the stairs and headed up the road.
The day was almost over before Carrie noticed a very distinguished looking man standing just inside the door watching her change the bandage on one of her patients. She gave him a courteous smile and went back to work.
“Your wound is almost healed, Taylor.”
“Yes’sum, I reckon it is. All because of you.”
Carrie smiled. “You were a good patient. It’s always nice when patients do what I tell them to do.”
“I’s real smart,” Taylor said, his eyes twinkling. “I ain’t aimin’ to cross Moses. He may be sick right now, but I don’t want him after me when he’s well again.”
“Moses?” Carrie asked quizzically. “What does he have to do with it?”
“He done sent all of us a letter,” Taylor replied. “Captain Jones done brought it some days ago and read it to us.”
“A letter?” Carrie had heard nothing about a letter. “And what did this letter say?”
“It tole us that if we didn’t do just what you told us to, we was gonna have to answer to him. Tole us you be the best doctor he knows about, and that we weren’t to give you any trouble.”
“Is that right?” Carrie murmured, fighting the laughter that wanted to burst forth. No wonder everyone had been so compliant. They had been almost pathetic in their desire to please her.
“You be mad, Miss Carrie?” Taylor asked, his face suddenly tight with concern. “Maybe I shouldn’t a said nothin’, but I figured since I was leavin’…”
Carrie let the bubbling laugh break forth. “Of course I’m not angry. I wish I had someone like Moses to make all my patients so easy to work with!” She reached down to squeeze his hand, finished wrapping his bandage, and then stepped back. “Your wound is almost healed, but I want you to keep a covering on it for at least five more days.”
“Yes’sum,” he said meekly, impudent fun once more shining in his eyes.
Carrie laughed again and then turned to the door, surprised to see the man still standing there. She pulled off her smock and moved toward him. “May I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“Your reputation precedes you, Mrs. Borden, but I wanted to come see for myself.” The man stepped forward, sun from the open door glinting on the gray streaks in his dark hair. “My name is Dr. Strikener.”
Carrie nodded quickly. “I had heard you were coming through to inspect Chimborazo to make sure it was adequate for the Union troops. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Strikener.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well, Mrs. Borden.”
Carrie stepped out into the bright sunshine with him, feeling comfortable as soon as she gazed into his warm brown eyes. “What can I do for you, Dr. Strikener?”
“You can tell me where you learned so much about herbal medicine.”
“How did you…?”
“How did I know you’re the one responsible for the herbal medicines I found in our supply room?”
Carrie frowned. “I thought that went down to Jackson Hospital. They have no medicine down there.” Her mind spun as she thought of the implications. She had to find a way to get some down to them.
“It’s there now,” he assured her. “I had it sent down as soon as I found it. It was overlooked somehow in the move. Our medical personnel isn’t interested in it, though I suspect it works just as well as our more accepted medicines.” He stared at her with open admiration. “She told me you were quite unique, but until I saw the vast collection of herbs in that storeroom I didn’t really understand what she meant.”
Carrie blinked at him in confusion. “She? Who are you talking about?”
Dr. Strikener laughed. “I imagine I do sound like I’m talking in riddles. I met a friend of yours on the boat ride down from Washington.”
“Aunt Abby,” Carrie whispered.
“Well, she identified herself as Abigail Livingston, but I imagine that must be your Aunt Abby. She is quite fond of you.”
Carrie flushed. “And I am quite fond of her,” she replied. “She is a remarkable woman.”
“That she is,” he agreed instantly. “Remarkable enough to make sure I help you with a reference to medical school when you are ready.”
Carrie gasped and looked up at him.
“That’s the real reason I was lurking in your ward today. I had to see for myself if you’re as good as she thinks you are.” He paused. “I would say you’re better,” he said quietly. “I have rarely seen a doctor so proficient who has as good a bedside manner. Your patients obviously trust and love you.”
Carrie managed to chuckle in spite of the choked feeling in her throat. “They were under orders.”
Dr. Strikener laughed again. “Yes, I heard what that patient said. The other thing I learned is that the people who love you are quite loyal to you. That’s good to know.”
Carrie flushed again, uncertain how to respond.
Dr. Strikener looked over the bluff down to the waters of the sparkling James River, watching as boats plied the water, carrying the destruction of the burned buildings as the massive cleanup continued. “What are you going to do after the war is over, Mrs. Borden?”
Carrie struggled for words. “I want more than anything to be a doctor,” she replied quietly. “I’m aware of the challenges I will face, but after four years of war I doubt they can be more daunting than the ones I have faced so far.”
Dr. Strikener looked down at her, nodded, and then handed her a folded slip of paper. “This is my address in Washington, D.C. I hope when you are ready to move forward you will allow me to help you. I realize the benefits women can bring to medicine. I believe I can smooth the way for you a little. Don’t kid yourself that it will be easy, but other women have proven it is doable.”
Carrie smiled as tears shimmered in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said fervently. “Thank you so much.” She reached for the paper he held out to her, but he pulled it back with a teasing smile.
“You haven’t told me yet how you learned so much about herbal medicine. Perhaps you would consider my contact information a fair trade?” His eyes were dancing.
Carrie looked at him with genuine delight. “Well…” she pretended to deliberate and then grinned at him. “I suppose it would be an adequate trade.” She grinned again and then settled down on a stump. “One of my father’s slaves, on the plantation where I grew up, brought some of the herbal secrets over from Africa. They were passed down through generations. She learned about more of the plants once she was brought to America. She started teaching me when my mother was very ill…”
Dr. Strikener settled down on another stump, cupped his chin in his hand and listened intently as Carrie told her story.
“I’ll be happy to teach you all I can while you’re here,” Carrie offered.
“I was hoping you would,” Dr. Strikener responded. “I’ll plan on some time spent with the herbs every day. The Union army was confident they were cutting off all medical supplies. They just didn’t know about you.”
Carrie smiled as Sarah’s face and voice filled her mind. ‘I done tole you all them days spent trompin’ around in them woods learnin’ the magic was gonna pay off. Didn’t I tell you man couldn’t make nothing better than what God already made. Didn’t I, Carrie Girl?
Abby was walking toward her up the hill when Carrie started for home. She ran forward and then threw her arms around the older woman. “You are an angel,” she cried. “Thank you, Aunt Abby!”
Abby smiled and returned the embrace. “I’m always happy for a hug, but what am I being thanked for?” she asked.
“I just talked with Dr.
Strikener,” Carrie said excitedly. “He came over to visit me in the ward because of your talk with him on the ship. He has promised to help me when I’m ready to go to medical school.”
“Excellent!” Abby clapped her hands together. “I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that we met.”
“And I bet you didn’t even notice how attractive he is,” Carrie teased. “Of course, his wife might object.” Abby laughed and tucked her hand in Carrie’s arm, but there was something about the way she avoided her eyes that had Carrie swinging her around. “Is he married?” Carrie demanded.
“His wife died eight months ago,” Aunt Abby revealed. “She was quite a remarkable woman. I knew her from a women’s voting rights convention. I didn’t know her well, but she did so much for women’s rights.”
“And Dr. Strikener supported her?”
“He didn’t just support her; he has vowed to carry on the fight. His three daughters have joined him.”
“Attractive, intelligent and compassionate,” Carrie murmured, laughing when Aunt Abby spun toward her with protest in her eyes. “He’s quite the catch.”
“Neither of us is looking to catch anyone, Carrie.”
“Then you’re not as smart as I thought you were,” Carrie observed calmly.
Aunt Abby stood back and laughed helplessly. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?” she asked.
“Because you’re the most remarkable, beautiful woman I know,” Carrie answered promptly, “and because Dr. Strikener seems to be quite remarkable, as well. And because life is much too short to not embrace every moment of joy that comes your way. Come on,” she teased, “are you telling me you didn’t even notice.”
Aunt Abby stepped back to examine her more closely. “You have indeed grown up and are becoming the wise woman I suspected you would become. And, yes,” she admitted with a grin, “I noticed.”
Carrie smiled smugly and moved toward a bench under a leafy dogwood just bursting into bloom. “Let’s sit here to talk. The house is so full. I just don’t feel like sharing you.”
“That sounds perfect!” Aunt Abby agreed enthusiastically. She held up a bag she had hanging on her shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind, but I did a little grocery shopping while you were at the hospital.”
“Grocery shopping?” Carrie echoed.
“Yes. The troops have converted two buildings into stores. The first trains are coming through from the North to restock them. Having so many people in your house has to be a strain.”
“More like a total joy,” Carrie protested, eyeing the bag with anticipation.
“That, too,” Abby said, “but May tells me you’re rather fond of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I hope you don’t mind that I brought a picnic.”
Carrie stared at the bag with awe. “Fried chicken?” she breathed. “You really are an angel!” Then she frowned as she thought of the rest of the household.
Abby interpreted her frown and reached up to lay a hand on her cheek. “May is frying up chicken for everyone,” she said softly.
Carrie smiled through her tears. “We haven’t had chicken in more than two years,” she admitted.
“I know it’s been hard,” Abby said tenderly. “My heart has been with you for every one of the years this war has kept us apart. It almost killed me to know how much you were suffering and not be able to do anything to help.”
“I felt it,” Carrie whispered, her heart overwhelmed with the love and care flowing from Aunt Abby. “Do you realize we’ve actually only ever spent a month together in all these years?”
“Yes, but our hearts were connected in a way that time, distance and a war couldn’t touch.”
“Yes…” Carrie whispered, as she laid her head on Aunt Abby’s shoulder and just let her hold her. “I missed you so much.”
Robert fought to breathe steadily as he eyed Federals spread out before him across the field. An earlier battle that day had already resulted in heavy casualties. There had been so many times these two armies had paused to look at each other across empty fields, taking a final size-up before exploding into battle again. This was going to be another such time, but this time was different. He could feel it.
The sparse Confederate lines were facing an enemy four times larger. They were facing an enemy that was strong and well-fed. Quite simply - they were facing an enemy they had no hope of beating. They had no trenches to hide in; no fortifications to protect them. They were simply going to be mowed down. Hemmed in on three sides by Union troops; they had nowhere else to run.
The Union bugles sounded, the clear notes spreading all across the field. All of Grant’s brigades wheeled and swung into line. Every saber was raised high; shining silver as they reflected the sun.
Robert looked up and down at the tense faces of the men he had grown to love, and felt sick. This was where it would end. He allowed only a brief thought of Carrie before he pushed it aside. It was too painful to envision her shining eyes and beautiful face. “I loved you,” he whispered almost silently.
Suddenly, as every muscle in his body stiffened in preparation, Robert saw an officer burst forth from their lines, galloping madly toward the Federals. He held a staff in his hand with a white flag fluttering from the end of it.”
“Captain?” Alex had crawled over to his position.
Robert started to shake his head to indicate he didn’t know any more than Alex, but he heard his name called.
“Captain Borden!”
“Yes, sir?” Robert stood quickly and looked up at his commanding officer.
“Have all your men stack their guns in the clearing to the right.”
Robert was sure he had heard wrong. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Have all your men stack their guns in the clearing to the right,” he repeated, his eyes dull with defeat, somehow carrying a spark of relief at the same time. “It’s over,” he said quietly. “Lee has surrendered.”
Robert stared at him, and then swung around to watch the Federals disengage from their battle positions. He turned back to the officer, but he had already moved on down the line. “Stack your weapons, men,” he called, still stunned “There isn’t going to be a fight.”
“Today?” Alex asked.
“At all,” Robert said firmly, the reality starting to break through the shock. “We’re done.” He took a deep breath. “Lee has surrendered.”
His men stared at him as if they couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“We’re done, Captain?”
“Yes, Alex. We’re done.”
Alex frowned and looked frightened. “What’s going to happen to us? Are we all going to prison?”
“I don’t know,” Robert answered heavily. “Right now you know as much as I do. Have all the men stack their weapons. I’ll try to get some answers.” He doubled over in a coughing attack and then walked slowly in the direction of the command tent. He was too weak to move faster.
When Robert reconnected with his men, they were all lined up along one side of the dusty road leading into Appomattox Courthouse. He was amazed to look over and see Union soldiers lining the road on the other side. Both sides were simply waiting quietly.
He called his unit together, knowing he had a few minutes before Grant arrived. Lee was already waiting in a house owned by Wilmer McClean. Robert found it ironic that McClean had fled Manassas after the First Battle of Bull Run to escape the war. Now it was ending right in his parlor. It was just one more oddity of a war that should never have happened.
Robert looked around him at the faces he knew so well. They were emaciated and exhausted, but spirit still shone in their eyes.
“We going to prison, Captain?” Alex asked quietly. “You can be straight with us.”
“You are not going to prison,” Robert said firmly. “You’re going home.” He watched his men exchange astonished looks.
“Home, sir?” one ventured to ask, seeming to test the word on his tongue.
“Home,” Robert repeated firmly, enjoying the lo
oks of relief that replaced the dread on their faces. “I will be signing the parole for each of you. As long as you do not bear arms against the United States, and observe the laws in force where you live, you will not be imprisoned or prosecuted for treason.”
“That’s good news,” Alex said with relief, his eyes revealing it hadn’t quite sunk in yet.
“It gets better,” Robert said, thankful he could give the men some good news for a change. “Any of you that have horses or mules here will be able to take them home for spring planting.” He knew most of them did, though it would take some time to make any of the animals strong enough to pull a plow. “And…” he hesitated because he wanted to play up the moment he was sure would make them the happiest. “The Union is releasing a supply of food rations. You will eat tonight.”
He knew his men would have broken into cheers if it had been a time for cheering. He was content with the looks of anticipation and gratitude on their grimy faces. He knew Grant’s generosity in feeding Lee’s army would go a long way toward reuniting the two sides.
A bugle call in the distance announced the arrival of General Grant. Both armies waited quietly while a brown-bearded little man in a mud-spattered uniform rode up. He exchanged quiet greetings with his officers and then the little cavalcade went trotting up to the village where Lee waited for them in a modest brick home.
“I reckon I thought he would be bigger,” Alex commented as they disappeared from sight.
“General Grant’s power and strength are inside,” Robert said quietly.
“Big enough to win this war,” Alex agreed.
The feelings around the campfire that night followed every spectrum.
“I’m just right glad to be going home,” one soldier commented. “My wife and kids been on their own long enough. I’m going home to plant my fields and grow food to eat.”