Field of Redemption

by Lori Bates Wright

  “It came in last week.” Abby removed the instrument and handed it to him. “It’s the newest model and the resonator is three times more sensitive. Lately, I’ve used it to monitor babies’ heartbeats in utero.”

  Ian was intrigued. “You can detect a baby’s heartbeat?” Ian took the stethoscope and turned it over in his hand.

  “Like this.” Abby placed two end pieces into his ears. Then she took the bell-shaped amplifier and carefully laid it against his chest.

  He listened, in detail, to his own heartbeat. Looking down into Abby’s unusual eyes, he heard the pace quicken considerably.

  Abby met his excitement with a happy grin. “They say when it’s twins, you can hear two separate fetal heartbeats.”

  “Fascinating.” He still held her gaze. No longer speaking about the remarkable instrument.

  The ladies began to murmur.

  “I take it Hickory’s not the only one. You sound as if you are quite a reader yourself, Colonel Saberton.” Mrs. Lambert observed with a pleased smile. “Abby loves books as well. Especially the medical catalogues. She assists my husband in seeing that babies in Macon are born strong and healthy.”

  “She’s more than an assistant.” A thick set man stepped from the last stair into the large reception area. “Especially when it comes to childbirth. I have too many soldiers to tend to. Abby takes care of the babies.”

  “Meet my husband, Dr. Jebediah Lambert. He’s in charge here at Floyd House Hospital.” Elizabeth smiled graciously, then affectionately took her husband’s arm. “Honey, this is our new Colonel, Ian Saberton.”

  “Good to meet you, Colonel.” For a doctor, the man had the beefy handshake of a lumberjack.

  “Abby’s an invaluable help to me. With more and more wounded and less supplies to tend them, I’ve had to lean heavily on her. The soldiers have taken to calling her their Angel of Mercy.”

  Again, Ian spotted the kid looking down at him. “I see you have another assistant.”

  The doctor followed his gaze and called for the boy to come down.

  “Hickory’s one of the war orphans.” Abby’s voice softened. “He stays down at the shanty settlement outside of town, and he’s very precious to me. I won’t have him bullied.”

  Ian lifted a brow. It wasn’t his imagination. Miss McFadden had just issued him a direct warning. “Agreed and accepted.”

  The same boy he’d seen at the telegraph office popped down the stairs and came to a stop in front of Ian. There was something familiar about him, but Ian couldn’t place when or where he might have known him.

  “Hickory, meet Colonel Saberton.” Doc Lambert encouraged the boy to shake Ian’s hand.

  “I met him already. Twice. I brought him his important war telegram and he was there once when I saved a lady from a rattlesnake.” Hickory had an engaging smile. “Killed it with my slingshot.”

  That’s where Ian had seen him before.

  His sister-in-law, Tori, had benefited from the boy’s protection about four years ago. But Hickory had disappeared into the brush before Nicholas could properly thank him.

  “You are correct, Sir.” Ian shook his hand. “My family owes a debt of gratitude to you for your heroic bravery that day.” Ian noticed the kid had grown a few inches and had all his teeth now, but otherwise still looked the same. He must be about nine or ten years old now.

  “Penny Jo, you may as well come down, too. I see you peeking at us from up there.” Her mother called out and the girl promptly obeyed.

  “Would you like to have a look around?” Clearing his throat, Doc Lambert prepared to show Ian around the hospital. “This building used to be a home. The army took it over when they needed more space for a hospital. There are four hospitals in Macon.” Turning he called over to the mayor. “That reminds me, Walter. Got word this morning to prepare our wounded to move over into Alabama. What do you know about this? I have some that wouldn’t survive the trip.”

  Walter Dobbs looked like a man caught in a whirlwind. For a politician he certainly didn’t have much to say.

  “Yes, Walter, that sounds like it needs some serious discussion.” Cora glided over to her husband in her hoop skirt. “Why don’t you and Doc go put your heads together. Abby can show Colonel Saberton around.”

  With a nudge to her back from a town lady, Abby teetered forward. Ian put a hand on her elbow to steady her.

  “Not much to show. Abby got ’em all settled down and most are taking a nap right now.” Hickory beamed at Abby much the same way he had with Tori that day in the woods.

  Abby caught a wayward strand of her hair and smoothed it behind an ear before sweeping a hand toward the stairway. “We have forty-eight soldiers right now. Nine are in isolation with typhoid fever. Most aren’t critical, but there are a few where gangrene has set in.”

  Ian could tell that this tour had not been her idea. She was probably supposed to be off for the day. But she was being gracious, and he appreciated her effort.

  Hickory and Penny Jo tagged along behind them.

  The hospital was set up with the whole second floor lined with cots where the patients were in various phases of recovery. The third floor held surgery rooms where stains on the hardwood floors left little wonder to the use of that space. Baskets of bandages and bottles of medicines were tucked on shelves in what used to be a hallway.

  Ian had seen many army hospitals both in camp and in buildings much like this. One thing was evident, Doc Lambert kept his numbers to a workable few. Most hospitals north of here had half the space and ten times the wounded, with supplies at a bare minimum.

  “And that’s about all there is to see.” Abby walked him back to the staircase with Hickory and Penny Jo close behind. “I hope you’ll be able to come back sometime when you can sit and visit with the soldiers awhile. It would mean so much to them.”

  “I’ll make it a priority.” Ian promised as he returned to the first level. “Thank you for an insightful tour. Now I must return to my men.”

  This time none of the ladies tried to stop or redirect him. They looked more like cats who’d just shared a juicy mouse.

  “Good day, Colonel.” Cora called after him as he walked out the door.

  With a hand in his pocket, Ian stepped onto the sidewalk. Long shadows fell across the road as the building was silhouetted by the setting sun.

  For whatever reason, he hesitated before returning to his horse.

  From where he stood, he could see inside the hospital’s receiving room through the large pane window in front. He stopped to watch Abby pull Hickory in front of her as she talked with the other ladies. Tenderly, she ran her hand through his copper curls, laughing easily at something he said.

  Ian was drawn to her warmth. When she smiled, it made him want to smile.

  Looking up, Abby caught his eye and gave a friendly wave.

  Ian nodded, then moved past the window.

  “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”

  ~ Charles Dickens

  Five

  “Abby! Abby! Come quick!”

  She was awake in an instant. Abby’s heart sank as she recognized Hickory’s voice.

  The frantic call sounded below her window, along with the sound of pebbles pinging against the glass.

  She lit a candle lamp, hoping to clear the drowsy fog from her mind. Clutching a flannel robe to her chest, she pushed open the hospital’s third story window, trying to detect his slight form in the dark. “Hickory?” She tried to keep her voice quiet to avoid disturbing the soldiers below. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s Sallie. You need to come with me, Abby. To Dove’s. Hurry.”

  “Wait for me by the door. I’ll be right down.”

  Abby set about changing into a workable dress, cautioning herself to remain calm. A number of things could bring Hickory out to fetch her.

  No matter how many ways she tried to reason it out, she knew deep inside that Sallie and her baby were in serious trouble
.

  The public women, as Cora called them, were rife with sickness and disease. Not many doctors would agree to see them, certainly not in the middle of the night. So they suffered shamefully. Doc said most of them died within five years of taking up the profession.

  Sallie’s pregnancy had been riddled with problems from the beginning. Venereal disease spread throughout her body which had been a challenge to control without risking the health of her baby.

  Sallie persistently refused treatment, complicating her situation even more. She feared owing money she didn’t have. All because Farris made sure the girls were destitute, owing him more than they could ever take in.

  Abby replenished a physician’s bag, tossing in an extra roll of gauze, a bottle of mercury salts, and a tin of labor tea just for good measure.

  The Dove’s Nest was only four blocks from the hospital in a row of seedy establishments filled with gambling and drinking.

  Once she had a chance to assess Sallie’s condition, she’d send someone to fetch Doc. He would grumble and complain, but she knew he wouldn’t refuse to come help, even if it was over at the Dove’s Nest.

  Abby cracked open the door, and Hickory grabbed her by the hand. “Hurry, Abby. Mama Ivy says Sallie’s dying for sure.” He sniffed, and the wobble of his chin evidenced his nine-year-old angst.

  She held tight to his hand as they navigated the empty street.

  With little coaxing, Hickory shared all he knew, mostly second-hand information from Mama Ivy. Sallie had lost her waters and from his innocent description of blood on her sheet, Abby assumed she was most likely hemorrhaging.

  Despite the warm breeze, she could feel Hickory’s shaking limbs. “Don’t fret, sweetheart. We’ll do everything we can. With the Lord’s help, they’ll both be just fine.”

  Lord, let it be so.

  He nodded but deep concern furrowed his brow. “My Sallie can’t die, Abby. She just can’t.”

  Slowing, Abby pulled the child closer to her side, wrapping an arm around his narrow shoulders as they walked. Once again, she was stricken with compassion for the orphans forced to make their own way. Forgotten victims in this monstrous conflict.

  Hickory had an unusual attachment to Sallie. Abby couldn’t quite figure out why. She supposed he didn’t have many friends at the shanty town, and Sallie had most likely started out there. The working girls at Dove’s usually came from desperate places.

  “I promise to do all I can.” Abby gave his shoulders a squeeze.

  Hickory had been failed by so many on this earth. Only by the grace of a loving God would his faith be restored. A faith that should come naturally to a child.

  “Is Mama Ivy with Sallie now?” Abby felt him nod against her side. “I need you to run on ahead. Ask her to bring up some clean towels and some alcohol if she can find it. Whatever form she can get her hands on will do. Can you remember that for me?” She laid a palm on the side of his cheek where she felt moisture from silent tears.

  Hickory sniffed and scrubbed a hand across his nose, clearly embarrassed that she’d caught him crying. “I’ll tell her you want a towel and to bring you a whisky.”

  Abby smiled at his attempt to be funny. “Never mind that. You just tell Mama Ivy what I said. She’ll know what to do.” Tousling his curly hair, she sent him off.

  Pumping his arms, he ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

  Abby grasped her skirts and made her way down the alley to the Dove’s Nest. Bawdy laughter and loud accordion music spilled into the quiet night.

  Wickedness ran rampant in the back alleys while the rest of Macon slept.

  Once inside, she side-stepped a bear of a man shuffling unsteadily toward her down the stairs. Despite leers from travel-worn drifters, long in their cups, she took rickety steps to the upper landing. Focusing on the last door at the end of the hall, she prayed for guidance.

  When she entered Sallie’s dim room, Abby’s eyes struggled to adjust.

  A tarnished candleholder held a faint flicker on the bed table. Sallie lay unmoving on the rusted iron bed. Abby laid a hand on her shoulder and a muted sob escaped the young woman.

  “Sallie, it’s Abby.”

  Silence.

  Moving to a window, Abby cracked it open far enough to let warm night air circulate the stifling space. “Hickory tells me your baby may be coming.” She tried to sound calm and reassuring while she lit two kerosene lamps to provide better light.

  Abby took quick inventory of what could be used in tending an untimely birth. A basin on the side dresser, a chipped pitcher on a chair in the corner, a threadbare sheet hanging from the end of the bed, and a tattered quilt that Sallie clung to as if it were her only lifeline.

  Mama Ivy, a small woman with dark features in a white-patterned head kerchief, padded lightly into the room with fresh linens and a bottle of alcohol just as Abby had requested. With a sorrowful glance toward the bed, the elder woman shook her head.

  She was a wealth of knowledge when it came to medicinal potions and homemade remedies. Though her ingredients were primitive, in some ways Mama Ivy was a far superior healer than the best physicians graduating from today’s medical schools.

  The former housemaid was the undisputed head of “the family” at the shanty town down by the river. Mama Ivy managed the rowdy settlement of freed slaves, stragglers, and smattering of war orphans with careful attention.

  Hickory had landed on her doorstep two years ago. She’d taken him in and done her best to protect him from the seedy dealings of Macon’s underworld. Abby knew she was here at his request.

  Gently pulling back the quilt, Abby spoke softly to Sallie who laid curled to one side of the sagging mattress. Her hair hung in a heavy braid past her thick waist.

  Most pregnancies in the Red District didn’t make it this far, but Abby was determined to give this baby a fighting chance.

  “I need you to listen to me, Sallie.” Abby’s mind raced but she kept her tone steady. “The baby is coming, and you are going to have to help it get here.”

  In the beginning, Sallie had insisted she didn’t care what happened to the child. A baby was an inconvenience that kept her from bringing in money. Over time, she became more attached as she began to feel her baby come to life inside of her.

  Unfortunately, suffocating infection wracked her body and Sallie’s heart had grown weaker. Earlier this week, when Sallie had begun to show signs of early labor, she’d all but begged her to save the child.

  Abby prescribed full bedrest—alone. Whether or not Sallie adhered to that advice was anybody’s guess. Ultimately, the fate of this little one was in God’s hands.

  Doc Lambert entered the room followed by a silent Mama Ivy holding a copper vat of clear water. Hickory had obviously fetched everyone he thought might make a difference.

  Abby examined Sallie’s abdomen, trying to get a feel for the baby’s position.

  Three other Dove’s Nest girls poked their heads in the doorway, craning to see what they could see until Mama Ivy firmly shut the door. “Sallie don’t need no audience.”

  Doc rolled up his sleeves and rinsed his hands.

  “Ain’t no use.” Sallie’s thick nasal tone, most likely from crying for the past several hours, gave her voice an added raspiness, raw with emotion. “God’s punishment, I suppose.”

  Abby listened carefully through her stethoscope.

  Turning her back to Sallie, she informed Doc that the fetal heartbeat was strong and clear. But Sallie’s was faint and irregular with an odd clicking sound most likely caused by a failing valve.

  Caught up in another contraction, Sallie’s brow dotted with sweat. With hurried hands, Abby felt her abdomen to check progress. She was in full onset of labor now, but the child was not in proper position to be born easily.

  Abby took her place at the foot of the bed, to speak quietly to the doctor. “The baby’s breech—bottom first. I fear trying to turn it would only make things worse for Sallie. I don’t think her heart can take
it.”

  “This could be a long night.” Doc replied, easing Sallie back onto her pillow with a gentle but firm hand. “Save your strength, now. You’ll be needing it.”

  Over the next two hours, Abby encouraged Sallie to push with the contractions. The forced exertion had her whole body shaking and drenched in sweat.

  Mama Ivy quietly offered an opiate elixir to ease her pain, but Doc shook his head. “Not this time, Ivy. She’s weak as a kitten. The best course will be to relieve her of this child as quickly as possible before shock sets in. She’ll need all of her wits for that.”

  Another hour passed before the revelry downstairs settled into a sleepy drone.

  Hickory knocked at the door now and again to bring refilled pitchers of clean water. Mama Ivy accepted from the doorway, assuring him everything would be all right.

  “Hickory? Is that you?” Sallie managed a breathless whisper while Abby bathed her face with a cool rag. “Did you get a preacher like I asked? A man of God. To pray. In case …”

  Abby lifted her eyes to Doc’s.

  “Hickory said he would get you one and if anyone can coax a body out of his bed in the middle of the night, it’s that boy.” Doc answered. “I imagine there’s probably a preacher waiting outside the door. You can talk to him just as soon as we—.”

  “This can’t wait.” Sallie shook her head. “This baby never asked for this.” She gritted her teeth against another hard cramp with a sob. “Not like this … never asked to be born to me.” An exhausted shriek tore from her throat.

  Abby continued to cool her brow with a wet cloth, speaking words of encouragement with every sharp pang.

  “I’ll take what’s coming.” Sallie panted. “But the preacher can ask for lenience … for the …”

  With Doc’s guidance, the next good push became the last as a perfectly formed baby girl was born, squawking loudly to make her presence known.

  Though tiny, she had good color and appeared as healthy as any Abby had ever helped bring into this world.