by Marian Wells
“I—Olivia,” she stammered.
Gently Olivia said, “Beth, I’m not distressed because you and Mike are getting married. I feel you’ve been avoiding me, and I think I understand. Sometimes being wonderfully happy when those around you are sad nearly makes you feel guilty. That shouldn’t be.”
“I’m sorry, Olivia, I’m truly sorry,” Beth whispered. “I suppose I’d be more honest to say I’ve avoided you because when I look at you I keep being reminded it might happen to me. It’s easier to not think about it.”
“Oh, Beth!” Olivia caught her breath. “I guess it’s nearly a relief that I’ve faced the worst possible and have discovered I can survive even with him and the baby gone.”
“How?”
Her heart pounded in her ears until Olivia could scarcely hear the question; she looked at the girl’s troubled face. “If it weren’t for God, life wouldn’t be worth living. Beth, only that is important to me—to know God is there, loving me and gently urging me to get on with living.”
Olivia started to turn away, and hastily Beth said, “Please come tell me what you think of my dress.” Beth led the way and pointed to the dress lying on the bed.
Olivia fingered the fabric. “It’s beautiful, Beth. Very costly, and obviously a wedding gown.” She turned and looked curiously at the girl.
Beth looked confused and at loss for words. “I—then you think it will be the thing to wear?”
“Most certainly. Perhaps a little more elegant than our humble Quakers will expect, but certainly acceptable. This lace is exquisite.” Again Olivia glanced at Beth, who was examining the lace. Beth looked up, and Olivia asked, “Do you have shoes to match?”
“Match? No. Oh, dear. Will these green slippers do?”
Olivia studied the anxious frown on Beth’s face, and slowly said, “I suppose so. But I do have some white satin slippers. Shall we see if they fit?”
Beth nodded and followed Olivia. “You know,” she whispered, “I can scarcely believe this. I mean, I’m getting married tomorrow—just like that!”
She took the slippers and sat down to try them on. “They are slightly long, but I can stuff cotton in the toes. My mother did that when I was little. She’d buy my shoes large. That way I could wear them—”
Abruptly she broke off and jumped to her feet. “I must get busy; the dress needs to be ironed.”
“Do be careful; the fabric is delicate,” Olivia said as Beth gathered up the dress and left the room.
Watching Beth walk downstairs, Olivia wondered, Why did I say that? Surely a plantation girl with such a dress knows how to care for her clothing. But why would a plantation girl stuff cotton in the toes of her shoes to make them fit?
****
Hands in pockets, head down, Mike walked slowly toward the barn. He expected to meet Beth as she led her horse to the barn.
Stopping beside the apple tree, he lifted his head to sniff the air. Hay mingled with the scent of barnyard and dampened, decaying foliage reminded him spring was yet to come.
Looking at the clouds drifting across the sky, he took a deep breath. “God, seems I’ve paid You no mind since coming upriver. Everything’s been moving too fast for thinking.”
He leaned against the tree and uneasily considered the heaviness in his heart. “I’m sorry, I really am. Seems the excitement—” He thought about his feelings. “I ought not to be going this fast; I can’t really think.” He recalled the times he had thought about Beth, how she needed to know more about God.
He sighed. Another day and we’ll be getting married. It still seems strange. Seems it ought not be that way. He heard the mare whinny and turned.
Beth drew close to him and lifted her face for his kiss. He hesitated, and her eyes opened wider. “I wonder why I feel as if you are a butterfly ready to disappear if I should reach for you,” he said.
“Mike,” she whispered, “what do you mean?”
“I don’t really know,” he said slowly. “I guess I expected—” She pressed her face against his shoulder. “Aw, Beth,” he muttered, “I suppose a man never feels he really knows a woman, even when he marries one.”
Linking her arms around his neck, she looked up at him. “It just might be the same for women. It seems men support families, go hunting and fighting and then, what else is there?” Soberly she examined his expression before she whispered, “Mike, if we ponder it too much, we—I mean, it’s scary. I suppose girls always think of marriage as a high point in life. But that isn’t the end of the story, is it? Sometimes thinking about cooking and babies and worrying about money, it just doesn’t seem all that—secure.”
Lamely she finished, “I guess we women are too prone to worry about being taken care of.”
****
Mike tossed, turned, and pounded his pillow. Sleep was impossible. He sat up, shoved the pillow behind his back and watched clouds race across the face of the full moon. He had gone to bed with his thoughts on the final kiss Beth had given him. The lingering memory of her soft body returned for just a moment. But as he watched the moon, his thoughts took him elsewhere.
He contemplated the presence of God; the steady unremitting pressure was a searchlight on his careless life. “Lord,” he murmured, “I’ve neglected You, and yet You’re constantly with me. I sense Your presence in a way I can’t fully understand. I want to ask You to forgive me for not staying close to You.”
He slipped to his knees beside the bed, rested his face in his hands, and waited. Nothing. No brilliant illumination—simply the firm conviction that God was speaking, and he could no longer fail to listen.
Finally he rocked back on his heels. The moon had slipped beyond his window, and the faint luminescence indicated the approaching dawn. With a sigh he got up and looked at the uniform hanging just inside the door. Sadie doesn’t approve of my getting married, yet she’s brushed and pressed my uniform, probably frowning and shaking her head the whole time she worked.
Still he hesitated. In the midst of shaving, he flung his razor aside and paced to the window and back. “I am the world’s biggest ninny. Scared of a couple of women; scared more’n I ever was of shells flying over.” He picked up the razor, shook it, and sighed. “Lord, I hear You. No doubt, it is You. I don’t understand it all, but I will obey, no matter what the cost.” Now he knew—perhaps for the first time—what the cost of his commitment would be.
When Mike went down to breakfast, the room was deserted except for Amos. Looking around with a puzzled frown, he said, “Did she change her mind?”
Amos chuckled. “Don’t know much about weddings, dost thou? The three of them headed for the church nearly a half hour ago. Hast thou not heard all the stories about it being bad luck to see thy sweetie before the wedding? Well, those women are making sure thou don’t. Now I suggest thou load up on ham and eggs and at least a pail of coffee. Getting married is hard business.” Hastily he added, “At least until thou gets past the preacher man and the crowd of fussing women.”
When they were ready to leave for the church, Amos pulled out his pocket watch and considered it. “If we leave right now, thou’lt have women fawning over thee. If we leave in ten minutes, thou’lt be able to sneak into the church without any trouble.”
“Amos—” Mike’s voice squeaked, and he stopped to clear his throat. “What will happen if we leave in five minutes?” Amos cocked his eyebrow, and Mike added, “It’s terribly important that I talk to Beth for a couple of minutes.”
“Better go now.” Amos paused. “For the next hour or so it won’t get any better.”
When they arrived on the meetinghouse grounds, Amos pointed with his buggy whip. “I suspect the women are over there in that house. One of the church women lives there, and it’s a likely place for the womenfolk to congregate.” He eyed Mike. “Want me to go clear the way?” Mike nodded. From the buggy he watched the conversation taking place; Amos had his foot on the step as his arm gestured toward the buggy. Finally he turned to beckon to Mike.
“They’ll skedaddle. Sadie and I’ll go inside the meetinghouse.”
Slowly Mike stepped down and headed for the cabin. He stopped just inside the door. “Beth, you’re beautiful.” With his throat knotted, he gulped and looked at her gown. “That’s the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen.” He continued to look at the ivory satin with its panels of heavy lace across her shoulders and down the sleeves.
“They didn’t want to let you in. But Amos seemed to think it was a matter of life or death.” Her blue eyes were curious.
“Beth, please come sit down with me.”
“I can’t; I’ll wrinkle this dress.” She stood waiting, and Mike turned to pace the room. “In five minutes the parson will begin the service,” she said.
He came back to her. “Beth, you won’t believe this, but I love you with all my heart.”
“Mike, is that all you came to say? I know it. I—”
“Beth, please hear me out. I can’t marry you.”
She caught her breath. “Mike, are you married?”
“No, it isn’t that. I don’t know how to say this to you. But I’m—”
“You want out.” Her voice rose, ending in a wail. “This is a fine time to change your mind!”
“No, you don’t understand. I haven’t changed my mind. It’s simply that God doesn’t want me to marry you.”
“Did you say God?” Her face sagged in astonishment. “Oh, Mike, I’ve heard of excuses, but to blame God! This is ridiculous. Most men get cold feet. I’m shaking too. But let’s just go through with it.”
“Beth, that would be wrong. We can’t face that preacher and God and all the people to promise ourselves to each other, when we know it’s wrong in God’s sight.”
She scrutinized his face, then slowly she wilted and burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. He touched her shoulder. “Please Beth, I don’t mean to shame you; I’ll do anything I can to make it easy for you.”
She lowered her hands and looked at him, whispering, “You really do mean it, don’t you? Mike, I can’t believe this of you. I’d thought you so fine, honorable, trustworthy, and now—” She paced the room and came back to him.
He saw the blood had risen to her face; her lips were a taut line. Lifting her hand, she struck him across the face. “This is what you deserve,” she hissed. “Go tell them that I refuse to marry you. I never want to set eyes on you again as long as I live.”
Chapter 31
Olivia heard footsteps dragging across the keeping room floor. She turned to face Beth, watching with concern as the girl came into the kitchen. It was Monday morning, and Beth should have been on her way to the hardware store. Her face was blotched and swollen.
Beth tilted her chin, said, “I’m leaving. I know you and Sadie are trying to be kind, but I can’t stay.”
“Beth,” Olivia said slowly, “my heart aches for you. I wish you felt free to talk to us. You know we want to help you.” Hastily she added, “I’m not suggesting you tell us all about the situation. It’s obvious it’s heart-rending for both of you. Did you know Mike left immediately without talking to any of us? We let him go without questions, but with you it’s different.”
“I’ve explained.” As Beth spoke, her fingers tugged at the handkerchief she held. “It isn’t as if I’m running away, Olivia. When I came here with Mike, it was with the understanding I would go on to Washington.”
“Washington?” Sadie cried, coming into the room. “That’s no place for thee alone.”
“I know people there who’ll take care of me. Actually kin—a cousin. Nearly like going home. Sadie, you’ve been good to me, but don’t try to keep me here. This will be best for all of us.” She turned quickly, flashing a tremulous smile at Olivia and Sadie. “Amos says he’ll take me to the train station.”
Olivia sighed, glanced quickly at Sadie, and said, “Please at least leave us the address of your cousin. We’ll want to write to you, and there’s a good possibility I might go to Washington to work.”
“Well, certainly.” Beth quickly went for paper and pencil. “I’ll feel better knowing you’ll write to me.”
When the door closed behind Beth, Olivia said, “She couldn’t wait to be gone. Did you notice the strange way she spoke? Stuffy, as if she had planned out each word.”
Sadie nodded. “Thou art serious about working for the soldiers, aren’t ye?”
Olivia took a deep breath. “Yes. More and more I’m feeling it’s necessary I do my part. But I’ll admit the thought of caring for wounded soldiers is frightening.”
“Thou art always welcome back here,” Sadie said hastily. “I will miss thee sorely. But I understand, I know how I would feel.” She started for the door and stopped. “Please write us letters. That will help us in our lonely times, too.”
Olivia nodded and took a deep breath. “I suppose I need to tell you that I’ve already talked to the commanding officer in charge of the recruitment and training of soldiers in town. He told me they desperately need nurses around the Potomac. He didn’t have an address, but he suggested I go to Washington and make inquiries at the Department of War.”
“Potomac?” Olivia nodded, and Sadie said slowly, “Still hoping? Maybe going isn’t wise.”
Olivia’s voice was muffled. “Perhaps not wise; it will be difficult, but Sadie, it’s necessary.”
It was March in Pennsylvania. Olivia stood at the window looking across Amos’ pasture at the carpet of spring colors. “Crocuses, daffodils, tulips,” she murmured. The colorful strip bordering the path was a line leading Olivia’s eyes down to the Golden Awl, dry-docked at the end of the pasture. She touched the brooch at her neckline as Sadie came into the room.
It was obvious that Sadie had been crying, but she smiled and cocked her head as she looked at Olivia’s dark suit. “Thee looks very grown-up and capable. I would hire thee myself. It might be those people will want a reference. I will recommend thee—”
“For being fairly good at cooking and making beds?” Olivia smiled. “That’s possibly all they want to know. Sadie, why are you wearing your bonnet?”
“Because I intend to go with thee to the railroad station. I want to look over the train.”
“I’m certain it will be loaded with young men going to war,” Olivia said. As she turned away from the spring scene, Amos stopped the buggy at the front door.
Sadie eyed the bag. “Is that all the belongings thou art taking?”
“Yes. I’ve no idea where I will be staying, and I doubt I’ll need much of a wardrobe.”
“I’m glad thou art leaving some of thy belongings. It will be good to have something of thee around. With thee going it’s like seeing my own flesh and blood leaving.” Olivia turned, quickly kissed Sadie, and hurried out to the wagon.
****
When Olivia got off the train at Washington, she discovered a Washington that was sharp and bleak, a dismal contrast to the beautiful city she and Alex had enjoyed together.
She directed the hack driver to take her to the hotel where they had stayed, then settled back in her seat. Olivia’s eyes blurred; she tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she recalled their time in the city—the rose silk frock, the dinner parties, but most of all, being with Alex.
The same hotel was now shabby, not quite clean, and the people—from the man at the front desk to the tired-looking cleaning girl—seemed somber and fearful. After Olivia closed the door of her room, she leaned against it and murmured, “Father, I had thought I was the only person on earth with this sadness in my soul. Now I see it has seeped into everyone. Please, deliver us from this evil!”
Slowly she pressed the brooch to her face. The empty, dismal room wrenched the words out of her. “My precious Alex is dead and gone, and I must learn to live without him.”
****
Olivia walked into the long, barn-shaped building and stopped just inside the door. From where she stood, she could see long lines of cots and stretchers. Fighting the discouragement the dis
mal scene gave her, she started toward a woman at the far end of the building.
As she walked slowly, she looked at the patients. There were a few smiles, but for the most part the men seemed asleep or tossing in delirium. She saw blood-soaked bandages, stumps where there should have been arms or legs, flushed faces and faces deathly pale.
“Lady—” The whisper was urgent, feeble. “Lady, please, water.” She hesitated, saw the jug of water, and carried it to the man.
A wound stretched across his face, festering, angry red. What she could see of his face seemed dry and feverish. There was only one eye. Strangely detached, she noted it was blue, his hair curly and light. The hand he stretched toward her was hot, the grasp frail.
Biting her lip, Olivia slipped her hand under his head and gently lifted him until he could swallow the water. His burning hand slipped across hers, and his head turned away as his soul fled.
Olivia caught her breath in a painful gasp and eased him onto the cot. A uniformed woman was watching. When their eyes met, the woman’s lightened until there was nearly a smile. She beckoned Olivia toward the end of the room.
“I’m Maggie Thorner,” the woman said. “Why do you want to be here?”
“I don’t know that I want to.” Olivia looked around the room. “But if my husband had lingered, I would have wanted him to have this kind of care. I suppose it’s the only way I can feel right about all this.”
“And can you care for Southern soldiers? There are some here.”
“Yes.” Olivia hesitated. “I’m just frightened—terrified.”
“It won’t matter, as long as you are willing. Come, I will show you our bedrooms. I trust you have a bag with you.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by it all, Olivia wanted only to run. But Mrs. Thorner was watching. Carefully Olivia pressed her lips together and followed her.
That evening, after settling her belongings in the tiny room tucked under the eaves, Olivia sat down at the rickety table and began a letter to Matthew.
Dear brother,
I write this, not knowing whether you’ll receive it. I beg your forgiveness for delaying my letter so long. Once I decided to come to Washington, with the intent of offering my services as a nurse, it seemed best to wait until I arrived to explain everything to you. Please, if you are still in the area, come and see me. I am desperately in need of your company.