The Courageous Brides Collection
Page 55
February 12
The next morning after a proper wash, clean clothes, and a fresh apron, Kate readied to face the day. She found Bennett in the cook tent, bent over a pot on the stove.
“What’s for breakfast, Private?”
Bennett jumped and pressed a hand to his heart. “Well, fry me in butter and call me a catfish, ma’am! You skeered the daylights out of me.” He gulped. “What are you doing here, anyhow?”
Kate frowned. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”
Private Bennett goggled at her. “Well, I thought…that is…I heard…the major …”
“Were you eavesdropping yesterday, Private?”
“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” he said indignantly, “the whole camp heard the major yelling after you. Bellowed like a bull.”
Kate smiled. “I suppose he did. I apologize.” She sniffed the air. “Your oatmeal is scorching, Private.”
He hurriedly pulled the pot off the fire and poured most of it into a bucket. “Saved it.” He opened his mouth then hesitated. “So, you ain’t going to leave then, ma’am?”
“Does it look like it?”
He studied her, and his thin face broke into a beaming smile. “Well, I’ll be horn-swoggled. You’re stayin’, ain’t you?”
“Yes.” It would take more than Major Logan to make her quit.
“Bully for you, ma’am. I’d take a bet the major will cotton to you afore long. I know the men would be fair sorry to see you go. You’ve chirked them all up.”
She felt her face flush. It did her heart good to hear it. Whether Major Logan agreed or not, her efforts hadn’t been in vain. “Thank you, Private Bennett.”
“Aw, call me Cletus, ma’am.”
Kate smiled. “So be it, Cletus. Let’s begin.”
Three days later, Kate stood in the ward and surveyed her domain. With Major Logan away and Major Drake temporarily working at the Marine Hospital at Fort Anderson a few blocks away, she had wasted no time putting things into order in the ward. At her direction all the cots had been taken out, the floors swept and bleached, and all the linen cleaned. She had worked with the two orderlies assigned to the ward, McCracken and Livingston, to establish set times for bathing and shaving and for the boiling of bandages and the men’s laundry. The windows had been washed and all the mattresses aired. Cletus and the orderlies had done such a fine job that she had time to sit with the men, helping them write letters home. Recently arrived Private George Sutton, well enough to sit and play his fiddle, had helped pass the last two evenings pleasantly, especially once the men found out Kate could sing. Then there was nothing for it but to sing all the popular songs, everything from “Goober Peas” to “Tenting Tonight on the Old Campground.”
But the attitude in the ward had muted this evening. The men conversed quietly among themselves, every so often casting furtive glances her way. Cletus had told her Major Logan had arrived back on the post earlier this afternoon.
Her insides felt like a twisting nest of snakes ready to strike. Why didn’t he come and get it over? Surely he had discovered she had ignored his order.
She strode resolutely into the ward. “Private Sutton, won’t you get your fiddle out and play us some tunes?”
“Certainly, ma’am,” he said and led them a rousing rendition of the “Anderson March.” Then he moved on to “Yankee Doodle” and “Camptown Races.”
The men joined in raucously, clapping their hands:
“Camptown ladies sing a song
Doo dah, doo dah
Camptown racetrack five miles long
Oh the doo dah day
Going to run all night
Going to run all day
Bet my money on the bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the bay.”
Two of the men who could walk started an impromptu jig, and the men hooted and hollered when Private Welch dragged her into it. “C’mon, ma’am! Right hand around!”
She laughed as he swung her through the steps while the men clapped harder and stamped their feet with a deafening noise that rattled the rooftop. “I’m getting dizzy.”
The fiddle cut short with a jarring screech, and Private Welch lurched to a halt as the singing died away. She staggered, trying to regain her balance, when a hard hand clamped onto her arm and spun her around.
Major Logan’s eyes blazed like blue lightning. “What are you still doing here?”
She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stepped back, raising her chin. “And where else should I be, but here taking care of my boys?”
He gritted his teeth. “I gave you an order, madam.”
Some of the men rustled their feet and muttered under their breath. She smiled prettily with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Orders? But, sir, I’m not in the army.”
“Don’t play coy with me.” He exhaled hard through his nose. “You know exactly what I mean. Why aren’t you gone?”
“Aw, sir, let her stay,” called out Private Welch. “She sings beautifully.”
“She’s wonderful to us,” said Private Sutton. “My own ma couldn’t have done better.”
A general chorus of agreement and “Let her stay, sir” and “Please, sir,” went up.
Major Logan’s lips tightened. “Come outside to discuss this, madam,” he snarled, his face formidably grim, “if you’d be so kind.”
He gestured her ahead of him, and with her head held high, she walked to the front door and sent a silent prayer heavenward for help.
He didn’t speak immediately but paced back and forth on the walkway. Then he turned to glower at her and shook his head. “Is your command of the English language somehow wanting, madam? Did you not clearly understand what I said to you three days ago?”
She nodded. “I did.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then what is wrong with you? Why didn’t you obey?”
“As I said, sir, I’m not under your orders. I take mine from God.”
“Ah, yes,” he said. “You mentioned that the day you came here.” His fists were clamped at his sides as if he didn’t trust himself, so she said nothing, sensing his rising frustration.
“I don’t want you here, Mrs. Wilkes.”
“You’ve made that quite plain, Major. But the men need me.” She hesitated, not wanting to make him any angrier. “Perhaps we could take this matter to General Sherman?”
Something had prejudiced Major Logan against her. Maybe someone with a better sense of practicality would see her skills and experience as an asset.
His head snapped up. “Out of the question!”
“Why?”
“General Sherman has neither the time nor the inclination to deal with such a trivial matter.”
She stiffened. “It isn’t trivial in the least. It’s important to the men. Anyone with common sense could see it. Why can’t you, sir?” She spoke more sharply than she had intended and immediately regretted it.
“How dare you speak to me in such a tone?”
She raised her chin defiantly. “How dare you turn away help and succor for those poor injured men, some of whom you know will never see their loved ones or their homes again? How dare you deny them comfort and kindness? What is wrong with you?”
Major Logan stood stock still, breathing hard. Then he stepped closer. “You will leave tomorrow, Mrs. Wilkes, do you hear me?” He towered over her, but she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. He pointed his finger in her face. “Answer me.”
“I’m not leaving, Major.”
He gasped, incredulous.
“I’m sorry, Major, but whether you like it or not, I’m staying.”
“I’ll have you removed, by force if necessary.”
“You’ll have to,” she said coolly. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Major Logan stalked away, seething. What an infuriating woman! He’d never met anyone so stubborn. He’d fully expected her to be gone when he returned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry. And the men. Traitors.
They wanted her to stay.
After three hard laps around the camp perimeter, his pace slowed. He was being irrational. Of course the men wanted her to stay. She reminded them of home and of a mother or wife’s loving care. Why had he allowed her to affect him so?
He entered his tent, declining to light the lantern, and dragged his cot closer to the open tent flap. Overhead the starry constellations wheeled slowly across the night sky while a chorus of early spring peepers sang in the oak forest that edged the camp, a promise of spring. The tightness in his chest eased. Maybe, after all, it wasn’t his to decide. He slid off the cot onto his knees and bowed his head for the first time in many months. In anguish, he poured out the burdens of his heart before God. The daily battle with life and death. The waste of young lives on the battlefield. The bitterness and the torment of feeling half a man after the loss of his leg. The death of his future with Beth wiped out as a heavy rain erases footprints on a path. Only emptiness lay ahead.
When he finished, spent, he rested his head against the edge of the cot. “Now what, Lord?” he said aloud in the peaceful stillness. A small voice answered gently in the darkness.
“Wait on Me.”
Kate sang softly to herself as she went about her daily business. Major Logan had apparently changed his mind about sending her home, and she silently gave thanks for this. Things were running smoothly on the ward. That is, when Major Drake wasn’t around. She repressed a frown as he entered the sanctuary, blustery and cold as the March wind outside. As usual, the major pointedly ignored her as he made his rounds, and as usual she stayed out of his way, while keeping a wary eye on him from a distance. He first stopped to see Private Moore, recovering from a minor head injury. Next he examined Private Clemens, whose fractured arm had nearly mended. Then he arrived at the bedside of Private Kelly, who had become apathetic after the amputation of both legs below the hips three days ago. His state of mind especially concerned her. The major pulled up a stool to examine the dressing.
A shrill scream erupted through the ward a moment later, and Kate hurried over. The major prodded at the bandages and roughly unwound them. His hands were nasty with blood and grime and who knows what else under his fingernails.
“Major Drake!”
The major narrowed his small piggy eyes as Kate quickly inserted herself between him and the patient. “You’re too rough, Major. He’s in a lot of pain.” She glanced down at Drake’s hands. “And I’m sorry, but your hands are filthy. Would you mind washing before you see the patients?” She pointed to a washstand in the corner, with clean towels and soap. “Everyone washes their hands before they touch a patient.”
A pulse throbbed at his temple as his face turned crimson. He bunched his fists together and sprang to his feet, knocking the stool over.
“I have never been so insulted in my life.” He shook a finger in her face. “And by a miserable chit like you, who thinks she knows better than a physician how to treat patients.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on between you and Major Logan.” He smirked in her face. “You’re an adventuress who’s charmed her way in here and so bewitched the man, he thinks whatever you want to do is wonderful.”
Kate gasped. What a pompous toad of a man. Private Kelly’s eyes bulged, and rumbles of discontent rose from the other beds.
She sniffed. “How many adventuresses do you know, Major, who empty bedpans, boil bloody bandages, and go without sleep to minister to these boys? It’s you who have insulted me.”
Many of the men were sitting up in their beds scowling at the major, and she realized that she mustn’t let this go any further. With an effort she softened her voice. “Perhaps we could take this conversation outside, so the boys will not have to be privy to it.”
“The boys?” he sneered. “You’re one of those women that can’t have a child, is that it? So you’re pouring out your misplaced maternal instincts here.”
His words stabbed deep, and she recoiled, turning away to hide the pain on her face.
“Leave her alone!” Private Moore lurched out of bed and stumbled toward them, as muttered words of disapproval rose through the room.
“Get back in bed, Private!” snapped Major Drake, whirling around. “Or I’ll see to it that you’re court-martialed.”
Private Moore’s face whitened, and he groped his way back to his cot.
The major turned back to Kate, his lips twisted. “You’ve even got these men under your thumb, don’t you? Ready to stand up and defend you. Well,” he snorted, “the few with legs, anyway.”
Kate stiffened as a gasp went around the room. The man was impossible. “Perhaps they appreciate being treated with kindness and respect.” She couldn’t keep the derision out of her voice. “Something you obviously know nothing about.”
The major laughed grimly. “You’re nimble witted, I’ll say that for you. But you don’t fool me.” He poked her in the shoulder with his beefy finger, and she groped in her pocket for the butt of the Colt Baby Dragoon revolver hidden there. “I’ll have you dismissed today, madam,” he spat out, his lips twisted. “If you were a man,” he said, lowering his voice, “I’d knock you down and tear you apart!” He viciously kicked the stool out of his way, narrowly missing her, and left.
Kate let out the breath she had been holding, weak in the knees, and sank onto the end of Private Kelly’s cot.
“I heard what he said, Mrs. Wilkes,” said the soldier weakly. “And I ain’t afraid of him. I’ll tell Major Logan how he threatened you.”
“That’s right,” said Private Moore. “We’ll all speak to Major Logan for you.” Then he laughed. “You sure rumpled his feathers, ma’am.”
“I wish I had my pigsticker,” said Private Clemens. “I’d show him what’s what.”
“Thank you, boys,” she said, warmed by their words. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. I will go and speak to the major myself.”
Major Logan moved his feet closer to the brazier at his feet to ward off the March chill. In Buffalo they probably still had three feet of snow. But perhaps that was preferable to the muddy ruts in camp that caught one’s boot and wrenched the ankle.
He bit the end of his pen and looked out of the tent flap, considering the crucial supplies needed for the camp hospital. Mrs. Wilkes exited the back of the church, her cloak pulled closely about her and her head down against the wind. What a determined woman she was. She’d been here three weeks and had already accomplished more in the ward than any orderly or physician had been able to.
As she turned first down one path and then another, he realized she was headed toward his tent. He quickly shrugged into his coat and smoothed his hair.
She stopped outside the tent flap. “Major Logan?”
“Come in, Mrs. Wilkes.” He unfolded a camp chair and set it near the brazier.
“Thank you,” she said, sitting down and clutching the cloak about her. The rough wind had loosened her hair, and burnished red-gold ringlets streamed down her back. Then he realized there were tears in her eyes and her hands trembled.
He pushed the brazier closer to her feet. “Are you cold? Is everything all right?”
She swallowed and shook her head. “No, Major. I’m afraid I have made a terrible mess about something.”
“I doubt it. You’re usually cleaning them up, not making them.”
She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected such a positive response, and pulled at a loose thread on her cloak. “I’ve had an awful scene in the ward with Major Drake.”
“Hmmm.” Drake again. The man was a scalawag. “What’s he done now?”
“It’s not what he has done, but what I’ve done.” She shrugged. “I asked him to wash his hands before he examined the patients.”
Major Logan whistled softly. “I can guess at his reaction.”
“His fingernails were filthy, Major. And he had food in his beard! He always appears unkempt, greasy as fried lard. And he’s rough with the men.” She wrung her hand
s. “He doesn’t seem to care if he causes them pain or not. I had to say something.”
“Go on.”
“He said he’ll see to it that I am dismissed today.” She hesitated. “I know that initially you wanted the same thing, and I don’t know why you’ve changed your mind, but—” She broke off. “I’ve severely angered Major Drake.”
He could imagine. “Mrs. Wilkes, I can’t discuss another officer with you. But after all you’ve done for the men, I will do my best to ensure that you stay.”
Her beautiful gray eyes widened. For the first time since she’d arrived she smiled at him, and his heart did a somersault. “Thank you, Major.”
When she left, he returned to his supply list, but a quarter of an hour later, Major Drake loomed large in the tent opening. “James.”
“Come in, Benjamin,” he said, repressing a groan. “What can I do for you?”
“No need to be so polite,” said Major Drake as he deposited his considerable bulk on the chair recently vacated by Mrs. Wilkes. “I’m sure you know why I’m here. I saw that infernal woman leaving your tent.” He leered. “I don’t know what you two lovebirds have going on, but I want her dismissed immediately. You can carry on your affair somewhere else.”
Major Logan scowled. His hands itched to wipe the smug look off Drake’s pugnacious mug. “There is no affair, and I take offense at that statement.”
Drake laughed. “Tell yourself whatever you want, but don’t lie to me. Get rid of her. You know as well as I that women don’t belong in an army hospital.”
“She’s made our position here easier, Benjamin. It would send the men into the doldrums if we dismissed her now.”
Drake’s piggy eyes lit up. “You’re sweet on her. I knew it.”
“I respect her and what she has accomplished. That’s all.”
“I knew I wouldn’t get any support from you.” Drake stood and smoothed his stringy hair. “I’ll have to do it myself.”
Logan shook his head, frowning. “I don’t agree. Suppose we put the matter before General Sherman when he returns.” How ironic. Exactly what Mrs. Wilkes had originally proposed. “And let him decide.”