Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series)

by McVea, Heather

  The cruelty and carnage that surrounded Emma took her breath away. Men lay on top of one another. The dead were suffocating the living. Moans and cries of pain could be heard above the now distant cannon fire. Without realizing it, she had stopped walking. “Ma’am. We need to keep moving.”

  Emma looked up at the soldier, who stood covered in dirt and blood. “Of course.” She was confident she could release the man’s belt loop without losing him at this point. If her bearings were right, they were only a few hundred yards from the field hospital. Approaching a line of trees that divided one pasture into another, the soldier stopped, and quickly put the unconscious man down. “Lay flat on the ground, and don’t move.”

  Getting on her knees, she looked up to find the space the man had occupied empty. Scanning the tree line, she couldn’t see anything as she laid on her stomach. After a few minutes, a large dirt encrusted boot stepped inches to the right of Emma’s head. She clenched her jaw, trying to lay still. A cold hand grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

  Emma was relieved to see the soldier, but confused by the fresh blood that surrounded his mouth, and ran down the front of his throat. “Are you injured?” Emma reached for the man instinctively.

  Turning away from her, he retrieved the other soldier off the ground, and began walking toward the tree line. “We need to move. It’s not much further.”

  Not wanting to linger in the exposed field, Emma quickly followed the man into the tree line. After a hundred yards, they broke into another clearing, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the three canvas tents that made up the field hospital. There were soldiers and doctors rushing back and forth as Emma looked around for Doctor Anderson. He was one of the more competent and helpful doctors she had met.

  Unlike some of the male doctors who viewed the nurse’s role as more of a servant than a partner, Anderson was keen to share his knowledge with Emma, and allowed her access to the few medical journals and books he had access to.

  “Ma’am, I’ll take him over to that tent, but then I have to get back.” The man looked down at the ground.

  Emma reached up, and lay her hand on the man’s cheek, trying to determine where the blood on his face had come from. In spite of the humid conditions, and the effort of carrying another man nearly a half mile, the man’s skin was cool to the touch. “What’s your name?”

  The most intense blue eyes Emma had ever seen looked up at her. “Thomas. Corporal Lewis Thomas, first West Virginia Volunteer infantry.”

  Emma was speechless. Even covered in mud and blood, the man was beyond handsome. He was beautiful. Surprised that word came to her mind regarding a man, Emma took a step back. “Thank you for - for saving our lives.” She managed a smile.

  Lewis nodded, and then walked toward the nearest tent with the limp soldier over his shoulder. “Emma! Emma, over here. We need your help.” Emma was pulled back into her harsh reality by Doctor Anderson’s voice.

  Turning to see where the man was, she found him bent over an elevated wooden table, and rushed over. Laid across the table was a boy no more than fourteen years old. His hand was severed and the remaining appendage was bleeding badly. “His damn rifle backfired and blew off in his hand.” Anderson said through gritted teeth.

  The right side of the boy’s face was burnt badly, and blood dripped from his ear. Emma reached for a pile of rags near the table, and began wrapping what was left of the boy’s forearm while Anderson attempted to clean the burns on his face. Emma finished with the tourniquet style bandage and grabbed an empty ammo box from under the table. Standing it on end, she propped the boy’s arm up to slow the bleeding.

  “Watch that. Leave it on too long and he’ll lose the entire arm.” Anderson didn’t look up from his work.

  Emma considered the doctor for a second, his thick brown hair matted to his forehead with sweat and dirt. She knew the application of the tourniquet followed by periodic loosening of the wrapping was common practice. The intent was to avoid circulation being cut off for extended periods of time, but what Emma had witnessed was the sudden rush of blood back into the wound frequently caused the patient to go into shock, or worse to slowly bleed to death with each release of the bandage.

  “Doctor, it’s been my experience that can cause more harm than it helps.” Emma made direct contact with the doctor as he looked up.

  There was a slight twitch in the doctor’s left cheek. “Explain.”

  Relieved Anderson didn’t immediately dismiss her, she continued. “Preventing arterial blood flow to a limb for longer than two hours can result in ischemia, and death of the surrounding tissue. But periodic loosening of the tourniquet, in an attempt to reduce limb ischemia, can often led to incremental blood loss and death.”

  Without looking up at Emma, Anderson grinned. “Then it sounds like you just volunteered to take that off him in two hours.”

  “Yes doctor.” Emma couldn’t stop her smile as she turned to see where else her help was needed. Stepping back from the table, she ran into a woman she hadn’t realized was standing right behind her. Her hair was a long, thick brown-auburn mane loosely tied back in a braid. Emma then noticed her eyes. They were an iridescent blue, like Lewis’, and like the man, this woman was beautiful. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” Emma nervously stepped around the woman.

  “There’s no need to apologize. It was entirely my fault.” The woman’s voice was smooth, with a melodic mezzo-soprano tone. She wore a pair of blue men’s trousers cinched at the waist with a leather belt, and tucked into a pair of mud caked boots. The top three buttons of her tan shirt were open, revealing smooth, pale skin underneath.

  Emma knew nurses who wore trousers. She had a pair herself, and she frequently wore them on days the field hospital was being taken down, moved, and reassembled.

  Emma smiled and reached out her hand. “I’m Emma Atman. I didn’t realize we were getting a new nurse.”

  Without breaking eye contact, the woman took Emma’s hand between both of hers. Her skin was unusually cool, and smooth. “Coleen Andrade, and I’m not a nurse.” Coleen looked at the man lying on the table. “I don’t have the stomach for it.” She grinned.

  “I’m sorry, I assumed.” Emma felt heat rise to her face with the intensity of the woman’s stare.

  Coleen released Emma’s hand. “I’m a federal intelligence operative.” She looked around. “I suppose it’s safe enough in the middle of a Union camp to disclose that to you.” She stepped closer to Emma, and lowered her voice. “Can I trust you, Emma?”

  Coleen smelled like jasmine, and Emma was struggling to focus on the conversation. “I - I’ve heard there were women operatives, I just never thought I would meet one.”

  Coleen looked at Emma’s mouth, and suggestively ran her tongue along her bottom lip before speaking. “Well, here I am. In the flesh you might say.”

  The woman seemed forward to the point of being inappropriate. Emma was inclined to forgive her the indiscretion because she couldn’t pretend to know the complexities of this beautiful stranger’s life. “I would love to talk with you. About what you’re doing, I mean.” Emma stammered, irritated Coleen was making her so nervous.

  Putting her arm around Emma’s shoulder, Coleen nodded toward Doctor Anderson. “When you’re done with this, come see me. I’ve taken a tent near the northern corner of the camp.” Not waiting for Emma’s response, the woman turned and left the medical tent.

  Emma swallowed, and took several cleansing breaths. She wasn’t certain she liked this woman, but she was certainly curious.

  ***

  As Emma walked across the camp, the rain began to fall. She had finished her duties at the field hospital, and couldn’t abate her curiosity about Coleen any longer. Approaching the tent, she was surprised to see Corporal Thomas exiting. Unlike when they had last met, the Corporal’s face had been washed clean of the dirt and blood. Emma still marveled at his attractiveness, and the intensity of his eyes.

&nb
sp; “Corporal Thomas?” Emma called after the man as he was walking away from Coleen’s tent.

  The man turned, and immediately smiled. “Ms. Atman, I’m glad to see you are doing well.”

  Emma blushed at the man’s attention, and immediately felt silly for it. “Thank you. How are you?”

  Lewis nodded, and looked over Emma’s shoulders. “I’m good. We’re getting ready to head out on patrol.”

  Emma looked at the tent. “How do you know Coleen?”

  Lewis hesitated, and then cleared his throat. “She’s my cousin.”

  Emma wasn’t sure she believed the man. His eyes darted back and forth between her and the ground. “That’s convenient that you should be stationed in the same camp.”

  “It is.” Lewis shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Pardon me, ma’am, but I have to get going.”

  “Please call me Emma, and take care of yourself.” She patted the man’s firm shoulder reassuringly.

  Nodding, Lewis left, and disappeared among the myriad of tents and soldiers. Emma turned toward the tent, and let out a startled cry when she came face-to-face with Coleen. “Heavens, you scared me.”

  Coleen smiled, and took Emma’s hand. “I’m sorry. That seems to be a habit of mine with you.”

  Emma instantly forgot her irritation as she looked into Coleen’s concerned blue eyes. “I - I didn’t know you and Corporal Thomas were cousins.”

  Coleen looked toward where the young man had just walked. “Why would you know that?”

  Shaking her head, Emma stammered. “I mean, I - it’s nice the two of you are stationed together.”

  “I suppose. Sometimes he can be a handful. He’s young, though eager to learn. You can’t ask for much more.” Coleen turned her attention back to Emma as she pulled the tent flap back. “Please, come inside before we get soaked through.”

  Emma followed Coleen into the small canvas tent. There was a narrow wooden cot covered with a thin cotton blanket, a three legged stool, and a large closed steamer trunk. The tent was immaculate, and smelled of jasmine and rain. “Thank you for inviting me over. I don’t get the chance to interact with many women. We are spread among various camps, and our paths rarely cross.”

  Coleen sat on the stool, and gestured for Emma to sit on the cot. “Where are you from, Emma?”

  Emma felt uncomfortable sitting on the woman’s bed, but it would be more awkward if she continued to stand. Sitting on the edge of the cot, she crossed her legs. “Grafton, Vir - well, now - West Virginia.”

  Coleen’s eyebrow arched. “West Virginia? Interesting what happened there.”

  Emma nodded. “The application for admission to the Union was made to Congress in May, and I’ve heard acceptance into the Union will be approved by year’s end. On the condition, of course, that a provision for the gradual abolition of slavery be inserted into West Virginia’s constitution. If memory serves, this will be the most expedient admission of a state in the history of the country.”

  Emma could see the amused expression on Coleen’s beautiful face, and blushed. “Sorry, it’s something I feel very strongly about, and I can sometimes go on too long.”

  Coleen considered Emma for a few seconds, and the woman’s scrutiny made Emma shift nervously. “Then you support the war?” the dark haired woman finally asked.

  “I believe cruelty, intolerance and oppression has no place in a country built on the idea that all men are created equal.” Emma frowned. “I do wish the Founding Fathers had thought to add all men and women though.”

  Coleen grinned. “Don’t you know?” Emma tilted her head to the side, a perplexed expression on her face. “Emma, no one gives you power - least of all a man. You take it. ”

  Emma chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. She had never heard a woman say such a thing, and it both excited and scared her. “Who did you take your power from?” she managed, in a voice barely above a whisper. The sound of the rain was pattering against the tent, nearly drowning her out.

  The dark haired woman stood, walked the few steps across the tent until she was standing in front of Emma. Kneeling, Coleen looked intently at Emma, her eyes wandering over the entirety of her face. Coleen placed her hands on either side of Emma’s hips, and leaned forward until their lips were only an inch apart. “Tell me to stop.” Coleen’s breath was cool on Emma’s face, her eyes looking straight into Emma.

  The idea of asking the beautiful woman to not kiss her hadn’t occurred to Emma. From the bottom of her stomach there began a slow burn. It spread out across Emma’s abdomen and up into her chest where it wrapped around her rapidly beating heart.

  In the end, it was Emma who closed the space between her and Coleen. The first tentative touch of her lips against the coolness of Coleen’s elicited a quiet sigh from the blonde. Coleen’s lips parted, and the tip of her tongue pushed gently against Emma’s lips. Reaching to take Coleen’s face in her hands, Emma pulled the woman to her.

  An urgency grew in Emma as she clung to Coleen. The entirety of her life, and the security she had known, shattered as brilliant flashes of light popped behind her closed eyes. All at once, she was alive and vulnerable in this woman’s arms. She had felt wrong for having wanted Rebecca, and wanting to be wanted by her. The wholeness of who she was had been hidden, and it had been hard suffering the weight of that secret. Now, with that weight lifted, Emma felt elated.

  Coleen gently pushed Emma back onto the cot, their lips never parting. Emma was having trouble catching her breath as the woman’s lips found the front of her throat and began to gently suck the delicate skin. Emma entwined her fingers in Coleen’s hair, the texture reminding her of silk.

  “Miss Atman! Are you in there?” The sound of John Heywood’s voice came from the other side of the tent flap. John was a twelve year old who had been orphaned during the early days of the war, and taken in by the advancing Union troops when he was found half-starved in a burned out homestead. Now he did odd jobs around the camp, and tended to the horses as needed.

  Emma gasped, and turned her head toward the entrance. Coleen continued to gently suck her neck, undeterred by the interruption. “What is it, John?” In spite of the fire whirling within her, she managed to sound calm when she spoke.

  “Urgent letter for you, ma’am.” John answered.

  “Alright John. One minute please.” Emma put her hands on Coleen’s shoulders, and tried to push her back, but the woman wouldn’t move. A low moan escaped her lips, as she ran her tongue up the length of Emma’s neck. “Coleen, I have to get this, please.”

  Coleen finally relented, and when she leaned back, her face was framed by dark cascading curls of her hair. Her eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the tent. “Come right back.” Her voice was low and demanding.

  Emma ran the tip of her finger along Coleen’s lower lip. “Promise.” She had no intention of stopping now that she had discovered the intensity of feelings the woman’s touch stirred in her. Sliding out from under Coleen, Emma straightened her dress and hair before pulling the tent flap back.

  “Here you are, ma’am.” The small boy handed Emma a weathered envelope, and ran off toward the center of the camp.

  Emma closed the tent flap, and turned the envelope over. She recognized the handwriting as Ada’s and a smile formed on her lips. She had not heard from her family since leaving Grafton, and seeing the letter now, she realized how much she had missed them.

  “Who’s it from?” Coleen sat up on the cot, and pulled her hair back.

  Emma glanced up at the woman, and felt a new surge of desire rush through her. “It’s from my stepmother.” She slid her finger along the fold of the envelope, dislodging the white wax seal. Unfolding the letter, she began to read.

  “You look upset. What is it?” Coleen stood and walked toward Emma.

  “My father. He’s taken ill. Very ill, and is asking for me.” Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

  Coleen took the letter from her, and looked at it quickly. “It sounds like t
he flu. How old is he?” She handed the letter back to Emma.

  Staring at the floor of the tent, it took several seconds before Emma could process Coleen’s question. “He’s fifty-nine.” Emma folded the letter and slid it into the front pocket of her dress. “I have to go.”

  Coleen shook her head. “Don’t be foolish. The lines are skewed all across this region. The odds of you getting through without being killed or captured are slight.”

  “I can get an escort.” Emma knew requesting one of the much needed soldiers be pulled from the line was not only futile, but incredibly selfish.

  “That won’t happen.” Coleen walked back over to the cot and sat down. “What do you hope to accomplish by going? If he’s truly that ill, and nearing sixty, his odds of survival are slim.” Her voice was casual and without sympathy.

  Emma’s breath caught. “Can your heart be so cold?”

  Coleen’s brow furrowed. “I’m simply saying -”

  Emma’s worry and sadness over the news of her father mixed with indignation that this woman would speak so casually about the death of her father. “You don’t know anything about it, so you would be best served to keep your opinions to yourself.”

  Coleen leveled her gaze at Emma. “It’s your life.”

  “That’s right, and I’ll not have my father die thinking I didn’t care enough to be with him.” Emma turned and quickly exited the tent. The rain had stopped, and the air was left with a chill. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she walked quickly towards the field hospital tents.

  “Doctor Anderson.” Emma stood behind the man as he took an injured soldier’s pulse.

  “Yes, what is it?” The doctor stood and faced Emma.

  “I’ve received notice that my father has taken gravely ill. I will need to go attend to him at once.” She struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. Her emotions were off kilter with the news of her father coming in such close proximity to her affections with Coleen. Thinking about Coleen, and how insensitive she had been, caused Emma’s pulse to race. “I will return as soon as I’m able.”