This Time Forever

by Linda Swift

  "Major! Major!" Mary Jane called from the top of the stairs, interrupting his reverie. "Could you come quickly? It's Mister Wakefield."

  Philip took the stairs two at a time and rushed into Josiah Wakefield's bedroom where Mary Jane and Luke struggled to hold the enraged man on his bed.

  With two long strides, Philip was at the bedside, holding the man's shoulders, easing him back against the pillows, speaking to him in a calm, authoritative voice. "Just lie down now, Mister Wakefield."

  "Ankees! Ankees!" He stared wildly at Philip's blue coat and flailed his good arm, then tried to twist away, but the major held him firm.

  "There, that's the way. You'll be all right now."

  "No, no!" He screamed and jerked his head from side to side. "Ankees at Hitehaen! Hoot! Hoot!"

  "Hand me the morphine, please," Philip told Mary Jane, not letting go of the thrashing man. "Luke, hold his head back." As the trembling servant stepped forward and hesitantly tilted his master's head, Philip poured a few drops of the bitter liquid into his mouth. "There, that ought to make you feel better." He looked from Mary Jane to Luke. "What happened?"

  "I wus jes trying to give him a bath, suh," Luke said with a quivering voice. "An’ all of a sudden, when I open his shirt, he start hollerin' like dat an jumpin' around in the bed."

  "He got worse when he saw you, Major Burke." Mary Jane observed.

  "He's hallucinating. He keeps talking about Yankees invading Whitehaven, and God help him, he knows I'm one of them and it sets him off. I suppose I'll have to start leaving my coat outside when I tend him." Josiah was quieter now, and Philip eased the pressure on his shoulders.

  "Will he sleep for a while now, Major?" Mary Jane asked. When Philip nodded, she went on. "I think I'll go down and get a bite to eat, then."

  "Sit with him, Luke, in case he stirs and needs something," Philip told the servant. "And call me when he wakes. I want to try and walk him again today. There's a chance he may regain the use of his limbs if we keep forcing him to exercise."

  Clarissa met them at the door. "I thought I heard Father Wakefield. Is everything all right?"

  "He didn't want Luke to bathe him," Mary Jane told her. "And when I called the major to come, he got frightened of his uniform."

  Clarissa pressed her lips together and looked sadly at Philip. He shrugged and turned toward the stairs as she spoke to Mary Jane.

  "I don't know how we could have managed without you. I'm so glad you're here."

  "Not half as glad as I am," Mary Jane said fervently. "It was so boring at Fleur-de-Lis, but my mother insisted that I stay there. Then after the news came about Talmage and Mister Wakefield fell ill, well, I simply told her firmly that I had to do something more than take care of Robert and Beau."

  By the time the two women reached the bottom of the stairs, Philip was just closing the front door, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

  "Do you know where your sister is?" he asked Clarissa.

  "Yes, she'd in the gazebo writing a letter," she told him, as she warily eyed the message he held. "Is there—"

  "It's a telegram from Richmond."

  Clarissa held her breath, waiting for the word of another untimely death but Philip, reading her thoughts, shook his head.

  "Nathan Forsythe is being sent to Whitehaven to recuperate from his injuries. He will arrive tomorrow."

  Philip watched Clarissa's expression change from fear to relief to dread and knew the reason why. It was one thing for Angeline Giles to love Devon O'Conner while her fiancé was far away. It would be quite another with him in residence here at Whitehaven.

  • ♥ •

  "Oh, my dear, isn’t it wonderful that my husband thought to ask for our Nathan to be brought to Whitehaven?" Angeline nodded, and Jane Forsythe went on. "It means that he could come weeks before they would have released him from that Richmond hospital. And I just know he’ll recover much more quickly with his sweet fiancée to look after him." She smiled gratefully at Angeline, who stood, in her best flowered voile dress, with hands clasped tightly together and said nothing.

  "I wish there’d been room in the carriage for all of us to go to the depot," Basil Forsythe added, "but I suppose the excitement of seeing so many there might have been too much for someone who has just made such a long journey."

  "It was much better that only Major Burke and Luke went, dear. This way, Nathan can lie down all the way from the train." Jane shook her head. "When I think of all that has happened to this family, I could weep forever. No wonder my poor, dear brother is a raving invalid."

  "Now, dear, this is a happy occasion," Basil reminded his wife. "Let’s not dwell on the morbid today."

  "You’re right, Basil, this is—oh, look, there comes the carriage. Oh," she reached to squeeze Angeline’s arm, "I’m so excited I could swoon."

  Slowly, the carriage rolled toward the portico, with Luke sitting atop driving the two pathetic horses; all of the best livestock having been confiscated by the Union armies as they left the city.

  The horses stopped at Luke’s command and he climbed down from his seat and opened the door as Philip emerged and assisted the other passenger from the carriage.

  "Look, there our darling Nathan—is—" Jane’s voice faltered, stopped, then she added softly, "Oh, dear God."

  Angeline drew a sharp breath as she watched the man in gray, leaning heavily on Major Burke and a wooden crutch, take a halting step on his one leg, then hop, then take another step.

  Her eyes traveled up his thin frame, finally seeing the scarred remains of what had been his handsome face.

  "Why didn’t they tell us," Jane whispered to her husband in an agonized whisper.

  "Shhh," he warned as he went forward to assist his son. "Nathan, my boy, how good to see you." His hearty voice and steady handshake did not betray his inward shock and pain.

  Taking her cue from him, Jane also walked to the front of the portico, and as soon as the men had awkwardly maneuvered the steps, embraced her son. "My darling Nathan, we’re so glad to have you home again. God has answered our prayers."

  Angeline stood stiffly, willing herself to move forward but seemingly nailed to the wooden floor. Nathan looked up and met her stare, seeing her naked horror before she could mask it. One of his eyes was partially hidden by the flap of skin twisted in an unnatural fold, exposing a nostril that his nose should have covered. She wet her stiff lips and said in a faint whisper, "Welcome home."

  Luke scrambled to hold the door, and the entourage moved into the hallway where Clarissa and her sons, Mary Jane, Polly, and Harriet waited. Angeline was the first inside, and Clarissa knew even before she saw Nathan Forsythe that some unspeakable horror awaited. She glanced worriedly at Robert who stood holding Polly’s hand, too far away for her to caution or stop whatever response he might innocently make.

  To their credit, not one smile left the women’s faces as they greeted the soldier come home from the war. Taking a deep breath, Clarissa stepped forward.

  "And these are your new cousins, Nathan. This is Malcolm Elliot," she indicated the baby she held, "who is eight months old now. And that young man is Robert Josiah, who will be three years old tomorrow." She shut her eyes and said a quick prayer before she continued. "Robert, say hello to your father’s cousin, Colonel Nathan Forsythe."

  Robert, mindful of the title and Confederate uniform and remembering what the soldiers here had taught him, stood stiffly erect and saluted.

  Nathan, shifting his crutch, saluted back.

  Then, the little boy asked curiously, "Did you fight battles with my daddy, suh?"

  "Yes, I did, Robert. And he often spoke of you."

  Robert grinned proudly. "I’m having a birthday party tomorrow. With presents and everything. Will you come, suh?"

  "I most certainly shall, Robert."

  Clarissa met Philip’s eyes which clearly showed his pride in her son’s behavior and sighed with relief. "Come, Nathan," she gave Elliot to Mary Jane and moved to assist the i
njured man. "You’ve had a tiring trip and you need to rest. We’ll just help you upstairs now—"

  "Upstairs? Isn’t the hospital down here?"

  "Well, yes, but you’re family, so we thought—"

  Nathan shook his head. "No, I want no special favors while I’m here. Just give me a cot with the other soldiers."

  "But—" Clarissa began and Philip cut in quickly.

  "That probably would be best, Colonel Forsythe. I’m sure you’ll get better service down here where the other men are."

  Clarissa turned toward the living room. "Very well. I’m sure we have a cot ready that you may use."

  "You go along, dear," Jane told her son and when you’ve rested a bit, we’ll join you for a nice visit."

  Philip and Clarissa assisted their patient from the hallway as Jane and Basil watched with agonized eyes. Then Jane turned toward Angeline and whispered tearfully, "Oh, my dear, I’m so thankful he has you to love him. That will surely be the only thing that will get him through this awful nightmare." She took her husband’s arm. "Come, Basil, let’s go out and walk a bit. I shall choke on my own tears if I don’t get a bit of fresh air."

  Angeline watched them go with a strangled sob, as the others went upstairs, then cast a desperate glance toward the front room where her sister and Major Burke were getting Nathan settled in. Alone in the silence of the empty hallway she whispered, "What am I going to do, Lord?" Hot tears stung her cheeks as she repeated desperately, "What am I going to do?"

  • ♥ •

  "I had forgotten how hot and humid our summers can be," Nathan remarked as he sat on the veranda which was shaded by the tall oaks that surrounded it.

  "And these two weeks of rain since you've been here have only made matters worse." Angeline closed the book she had been reading aloud to Nathan. "I pity our poor soldiers in those hot muddy fields in Georgia." Her pity was directed toward a Union soldier named Devon O'Conner, but Nathan remained blissfully unaware of that.

  "I dread tomorrow." Nathan sighed. "It's hard to undergo more pain knowing the outcome is so uncertain."

  "If Major Burke hadn't thought he'd be successful I don't believe he would have encouraged you to let him try. And I've seen the surgery he's done on others. You have nothing to fear."

  "It will be worth the pain if I can have an ordinary face again."

  "Your face was not ordinary, Nathan," Angeline said softly. "You were a very handsome man."

  "Be that as it may, it is in the past," Nathan said wryly, "and now, I'd settle for anything more acceptable than this."

  "You're alive, Nathan, and it was a very heroic thing you did. We're all so proud of you."

  "Yes, I'm alive." He reached for her hand and she recoiled slightly before she forced herself to respond to his touch. "I'm very much alive." He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed her fingers lightly with his lips.

  Standing suddenly, the book fell from Angeline's lap, and she hastily withdrew her hand to scoop it up. "I really must go and check on Mister Wakefield. I promised Mary Jane I'd spell her for a little while. Shall I send her with some lemonade? I'm sure she'd welcome a chance for a breath of fresh air."

  "If you like."

  "I'll leave the book, too. Perhaps you'll ask her to read some more of it."

  "Perhaps."

  Nathan watched his fiancée as she hastily retreated into the house, her faded blue skirt flying, a thoughtful frown on his face. Then he turned his gaze toward the mountain, waiting with resignation for the long afternoon to pass.

  Upstairs, Angeline dispatched Mary Jane to take her place on the veranda with refreshments for Nathan, then seeing that Josiah Wakefield was asleep, joined her sister in the sitting area.

  "I can't keep up this pretense any longer, Clarissa. I just can't."

  "Angeline, seeing the poor man's condition, how could you not?"

  "But I don't love him. I shrink from his touch. This charade makes me feel as if I am being unfaithful to the man I love."

  "Your commitment is to Nathan," Clarissa reminded her firmly.

  "And that is why I can't go on pretending. I've got to put an end to it!"

  "Angeline, think of what you're doing," Clarissa pleaded, "Haven't Nathan and his parents suffered enough already?"

  Angeline bowed her head for a moment. "I don't want to hurt anyone, sister. But I don't see how it can be helped. Nathan is bound to know sometime. Hadn't it might as well be now?"

  "He will be devastated if you reject him, for he will be certain it is because of his disfigurement. And you know that no other woman will ever have him, don't you?" Clarissa asked her. "You will be consigning him to a life of loneliness."

  "And to save him I should destroy Devon O'Conner's life, and my own? Major Burke can help Nathan; I just know he can. And maybe then—"

  "The major can make improvements, surely, but he can't perform a miracle. There are limits—"

  "Good afternoon, ladies."

  The two sisters had been so intent upon their conversation they had not heard Philip Burke come in and climb the stairs.

  Returning his greeting, Clarissa added, "I didn't realize you'd come back from the depot. Do you need my help downstairs?"

  "In a moment. We have a bit of work to do. But I just wanted to give your sister a message first."

  Angeline looked startled, then alarmed. "Devon?"

  "Yes," he nodded, "I have heard from one of the men who was on the train that Devon is ill with typhoid fever."

  "Oh, no." Her hands flew to her mouth. "Then why wasn't he on the train?"

  "It's sometimes best for the very sick not to travel, and especially on the hot, crowded trains in this heat if they already have a fever."

  Angeline stood. "Then I must go to him. I'll just pack—"

  Clarissa quickly rose and laid a restraining hand on her sister's arm. "Angeline, you don't even know where he is."

  "Oh," she looked momentarily perplexed, then turned to Philip. "Where is Devon, Major?"

  "At a field hospital in Marietta, where they are engaged in a minor battle at present."

  "Very well," she took a step and again Clarissa stopped her.

  "Angeline, you cannot go where soldiers are fighting. I forbid it!"

  "Forbid? No, sister. This is one thing you can't stop me from doing. Devon needs me and I will go."

  "And how do you propose to get there, Angeline?" Clarissa asked quietly.

  "The Western & Atlantic runs both ways."

  "It isn't safe for a woman alone to travel on trains filled with soldiers."

  "It wasn't safe for women to work in a makeshift hospital with all kinds of sick and wounded men either, but that didn't stop us, did it, Clarissa?" Angeline retorted.

  "Your sister's right, Angeline," Philip said quietly. "But perhaps I have a compromise that will satisfy both of you." The two women looked at him quickly. "Sherman expects to take Atlanta soon and he intends to operate a Union hospital there for the soldiers. It isn't feasible to keep on transporting the seriously wounded back to Chattanooga. He has sent for me to confer with him about this. And I plan to go in two days, after I repair Nathan Forsythe's face."

  Clarissa drew a shaky breath, then asked in a faint voice, "But what about our hospital here?"

  "As far as the Union is concerned, it is of little further use now that the new quarters on Lookout Mountain are completed and near fully staffed."

  "I see." She looked at Angeline. "Go then, but please, before you go, tell Nathan about Devon. You owe him that much."

  Angeline's stricken eyes met her sister's firm gaze, then turned to Philip with a pleading look for intercession.

  "Yes, tell him now," Philip said with quiet authority. "He deserves to know."

  The two stood watching as Angeline went slowly down the steps and out onto the veranda, then turned to look at each other.

  "I always knew this time would come, and I have tried to prepare myself for it, but I find that I'm not ready," he said quietly, his ey
es never leaving hers.

  "How—how much longer will you have, do you think?" Clarissa's voice sounded unnatural to her ears.

  "A few days; a week or two, at most."

  After a long moment of silence, he spoke again. "Clarissa," he reached to take her hand and she stood very still but did not withdraw it from his grasp. "I know that you are in mourning, but we both know that it is a travesty. I am leaving soon, and I may not come back. I love you and I want you to be my wife. And before I go, I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you in all the ways a man can love a woman. I think you want this, too." She dropped her head, not looking at him as he went on. "I want to marry you, now, before I go."

  "But what would people—"

  "Please, Clarissa, for God's sake, don't let the dictates of society stand between us. Listen to your heart."

  "But Malcolm's family—his father—"

  "Josiah Wakefield probably wouldn't know if you married Luke. But we could be married secretly, if that is the only way you'll agree. I could arrange it with a chaplain at the Union headquarters in the city."

  "I—I'll think about it."

  "Very well. Think about it until I come back from Marietta. I want an answer then." He pressed her hand, then released it. "Come on. We've new patients to examine."

  • ♥ •

  Hearing the sound of laughter, Angeline took a determined step onto the veranda, wishing she didn't have to spoil Nathan's cheerful mood. Mary Jane looked up as she approached, and she shook her head. "Mister Wakefield is still sleeping so there is no hurry for you to go back."

  Mary Jane gathered the remains of their refreshments and placed them on a tray. "I'll take these back to the kitchen and prepare a supper tray for him while I'm downstairs." To Nathan she added, "Perhaps we can discuss your views on that another time. And good luck with your surgery tomorrow. I'm sure it will go well under the major's skillful hands."