She was sitting with him at his kitchen table. As usual, he had several newspapers spread out. He’d been doing a good deal of hunting since cold weather set in, so his larder was full once again. Nevertheless, Elise liked to take him special foods like Berdeen’s delicious bread pudding all drizzled with maple syrup.
“But how can a person’s mind be fixed?” she asked. “They can operate on the body, but what can be done about the mind?”
Milt shook his head. “Only God knows. We can pray for him. Perhaps in time, being surrounded by his loving family will take care of everything.”
“Everyone thought he would return and jump right back into his practice….”
“And take up where he left off?” Milt finished her sentence for her.
“Something like that.”
“But that is to deny the horrors he lived with nearly every day for over two years. One cannot easily erase that, Elise. He’s no doubt lost count of all the arms and legs he’s sawed off and the young boys who’ve died in his arms.”
Elise shivered at the mention of the amputations that she knew took place daily on the battlefields.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be quite so graphic.”
But she knew Milt was right. They’d been foolish to think everything would be as before. As she rode home that day, she thought about it a great deal. Because of this war that had split their nation, nothing would ever be the same again.
New Year’s Eve was even more solemn than the year before. It was as though war was a way of life for the country. January and February were interminably long for Elise. She spent hours in the stables with the horses. She and Chancy worked with Chancellor in the riding arena, getting him accustomed to a light halter. Chancy kept telling her that Chancellor was going to be one of their best horses.
On March 4, President Lincoln was inaugurated for his second term of office. The speech he gave was incredibly short. “Very similar,” Papa said, “to the length of his address to the people at Gettysburg.”
“A man of his wisdom takes fewer words to make his point,” Mama added.
They were sitting together in Papa’s library a few days following the inauguration. Papa shared with them the accounts from the newspapers as well as thoughts from letters he received from Secretary Chase. It was Secretary Chase who had held the Bible on which Mr. Lincoln placed his hand to take the oath.
“Salmon says in his letter that upon taking the oath, Mr. Lincoln leaned down and kissed the Bible,” Papa told them. “If we know nothing else of our beloved leader, we know he reveres God’s Word.”
“I wish we could have been there,” Samuel said.
“What did Mr. Lincoln say?” Elise wanted to know. “Tell us about his speech.”
“The first of the speech points directly to the atrocities of slavery and how it was localized in the South,” Papa said. Then he quoted from the president’s speech: “‘These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was somehow the cause of war.’”
Papa looked at them then. “Mr. Lincoln acknowledges that slavery was the fault of both the North and the South. That we have all suffered for the horrible atrocities of that institution.” Papa then read the closing remarks: “‘With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.’”
They were all quiet. Then Berdeen said, “It’s like the music of a bubbling little brook. Such gentle, kind, and loving words.”
“Sounds to me like he wants to forgive the South, Papa,” Samuel said. “Is that what you think?”
Papa nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. And we’re all the better for it. When the war is over—whenever that blessed day may come—you can be assured that President Lincoln’s forgiving spirit will allow us to bind up the wounds just as he said.”
On a warm day in March, Elise saddled Dusty and went for a long ride out in the country. How she’d missed her long rides through the cold, lonely months of winter. If she had her way, life would be eternally spring with never a cold day.
Outside the city stood rolling hills full of dense forests. For the most part, she remained on the main roads. There’d been rumors of bands of army deserters in the area. Deserters were desperate men, often hungry, sometimes sick and wounded. They traveled in bands to help one another. If they were caught, they could face imprisonment or a firing squad for desertion.
But on this day, Elise nearly ran smack into one such band of men. She’d ridden to a small lake that she enjoyed visiting. As she approached the lake, she heard voices, and her throat burned from the acrid smoke of a campfire. Leaving Dusty tied to a bramble bush, Elise crept forward carefully through the thick underbrush. Peeking through the brush, she saw a camp across the lake.
A group of deserters had pitched their small tents in the clearing, and their voices carried clearly across the still water. Elise wondered how they were finding food at this time of year. There was no grain in the fields and no fruit on the trees. They had to be very hungry. And very cold.
The next afternoon, when no one was about, Elise filled a towsack with apples and sweet potatoes from Berdeen’s root cellar. She slung the bag over Dusty’s back and returned to the lake up in the hills. She wasn’t quite sure how to leave the food so the men could find it and yet not discover her. Finally, she came up with the idea of hanging the towsack from a limb. Any soldier worth his salt would see it hanging there through the gray leafless trees.
The next day at school as Elise watched Verly across the room, she wondered what Verly’s reaction would be if she knew Elise gave aid to deserters. She might be even angrier than when she’d learned Elise befriended Milt. Elise kept hoping through the passing months that Verly would have a change of heart. Her face was always sad. It made Elise think of her favorite verse of scripture: “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine, but a broken spirit drieth the bones.”
A few of the girls were beginning to talk to Elise once again, and a couple of them asked her to play skip rope at recess. No one was aware of her ongoing friendship with Milt Finney. She didn’t tell, and no one asked. It was as though nearly everyone had forgotten about it. One day Elise heard another girl say, “It’s no fun to be with Verly Boyd because she never laughs or smiles.”
Elise remembered how much the two of them had laughed together as they wrote their play and practiced it. How she would love to hear her old friend laugh that way once again.
CHAPTER 11
Caught by Deserters
Elise wasn’t foolish enough to go near the camp of deserters very often. After all, these men were not only desperate, they were soldiers who knew how to keep an eagle eye out. She figured they wouldn’t stay long in the area anyway. From what she’d learned from Milt, deserters had to keep on the move for fear of being captured. What a terrible life that must be.
One Saturday she was able to take a loaf of bread and a round of cheese from the pantry. Berdeen was out cultivating her kitchen garden, preparing it for the first plantings. That gave Elise the opportunity to take a few things from the pantry and carrots and turnips from the root cellar, as well.
Again she slung the towsack on her horse and rode out of town to the area where the men were camped. She found herself hoping the camp would be deserted and the men gone, but it wasn’t to be. She smelled the fires before she even approached the clearing. This time, she left Dusty farther back so she could quietly move through the brush and hang the sack on the tree.
Suddenly, a voice behind her said, “That’s as fur as you’ll go, missy.”
She gasped and turned about to see a lanky, bearded man pointing a musket right at her. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, and her mout
h went all dry.
“I’ll be hornswoggled. Wait’ll Duffy hears this,” he said. “It’s a little bit of a girl what’s brung us vittles.” He held the musket tight and reached out his hand. “Give me the sack.”
Elise slung it toward him, and he picked it up. He waved the musket then. “Head on out thataway. I need to see what Duffy wants me to do with you. He said someone was trying to trap us and that we needed to get goin’.”
“My horse—”
“I saw that horse. Purty thing. We’ll lead him around with us.”
After winding about through the thick brush and trees, they approached the camp. Duffy, she soon learned, was Sergeant Duffield, who acted as leader of the motley group.
“Looka here, Duffy,” the man called out. “Here’s what brung us them apples. Just a little girl.”
Duffy was a lean, leathery young man with the look of premature age in the hardened lines of his face. “I knowed you was a fool, Gettler!” he spat. “You ain’t even thinking. Shoulda left her be and come on back here. We coulda got outta here quick like afore she brings anyone.”
Elise glanced around at the men who came up to see this intruder in their camp. Several were wounded, and none looked well. Just then she heard a loud groan coming from one of the tents.
“How’s Boyd?” asked Gettler.
Another man squatting at the fire shook his head. “Not good.”
Elise could hardly believe her ears. Boyd. They said the name Boyd. Could Alexander Boyd be lying ill in that tent? Struggling not to act surprised, she knew she had to do something. But what?
“Sergeant Duffield, my uncle is an army doctor,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm. “He came home just before Christmas.”
“Don’t try no trickery, missy,” the sergeant said, his voice cold and gruff. “We don’t need nobody, and you ain’t sending nobody. We got nothing to lose. We’d just as soon shoot anyone what comes after us.”
“I know that,” she said, “but you know army doctors are neutral. They have to be. He would understand …” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Uncle George had spent years helping soldier boys just like these.
The man at the fire stood up. His leg was wrapped in bandages, and he limped as he walked. “Seems like she’s truthful, Duffy. I say we let her bring a doc out here.”
“Me, too,” Gettler echoed. “We all need a doc bad.”
“I don’t!” The sergeant spat out the words.
“But the boy does.” Gettler waved toward the tent.
“Whatta the rest of you say?” the sergeant asked.
They all agreed—all except the sergeant—that Elise should be allowed to go and bring back her uncle. Now Elise faced yet another dilemma. How would she ever persuade Uncle George to come?
Gettler brought Dusty up and steadied the horse as he gave Elise a hand up. She was touched by his mannerliness and thanked him kindly.
“Them apples you brung was right tasty. We shore want to thank you.”
“I was pleased to do it,” she replied. “I’ll be back with the doctor soon as I can.”
“She’ll be back with the law,” Duffy said. “Mark my word. No one cares about deserters.” “I do,” she said simply.
As Elise rode back to town, she wondered what to do next. She’d promised to bring a doctor, and she would do her very best to keep her word to the men. Over and over she wondered if the boy lying in that tent might be Mrs. Boyd’s son and Verly’s brother. But there might be scores of soldier boys by the name of Boyd. They hadn’t said his first name. She could only wait and see. One thing at a time.
When Elise rode up to the Harvey boardinghouse, Verly was outside. Seeing Elise approaching, Verly quickly went inside.
Tying Dusty to the hitching post, Elise tripped up the porch steps and knocked. Aunt Ella came to the door.
“Why, Elise. Welcome.” She glanced outside as though looking to see whom her niece had come with. It had been many months since Elise had come over to visit alone. “What brings you out today?”
“Excuse me, Aunt Ella. Might I see Uncle George? I mean, would you mind if I visited with him? Just me?”
Aunt Ella smiled. “Why, Elise, I’d be pleased for you to visit with the doctor. He’s always adored you so. When he first came back, he kept showing me the little riddles you tucked under his pillow. That was one of the few times I saw him smile.”
Elise hadn’t known. No one had told her. For all she knew, the riddles had been lost or tossed away.
“I’m glad they helped,” she said.
“The doctor is around back in his office. He goes in there most every day, but I’m afraid it’s wearing on him. He just sits in there and stares into space.”
“Thank you, Aunt Ella.” She turned to go back down the porch stairs.
“Bless you, Elise,” Aunt Ella called after her.
Around back, Elise knocked gently on the office door. Through the window on the door, she could see Uncle George sitting at his desk. A book was open before him. “Uncle George? It’s me, Elise.”
“Come in,” came the faint reply. “It’s open.”
She opened the door and went inside. She had many memories of coming in this office as a little girl with a stomachache or earache or some such ailment, and she always left feeling better.
Uncle George looked up from the book in front of him and managed a slight smile. “Welcome, my dear. Did you bring me a new riddle?”
Elise paused a moment and thought.
The doctor leaned back in his chair, and now his eyes appeared to have a little gleam in them. “Come now. Could you ever be without a riddle?”
“I have one. Just give me a minute. Oh yes, I have it. What is it that Adam never saw, never possessed, yet left to each of his children?”
Uncle George looked past her, gazing out the window by the door. Elise didn’t know if he was going away in his mind as Aunt Ella said he did so often or if he was really thinking. Suddenly, he answered. “You’ve got me, Elise. I give up.”
“Parents. Adam had no parents.”
There was a little hint of a chuckle. “Parents.” He shook his head. “I should have thought of that. Parents. Of course.” He looked at her. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this little visit?”
“I’ve been wondering, now that you’re home, will I come to you if I have a stomachache?”
“Are you planning to have a stomachache?”
“No. But what if?”
“Not just yet, Elise. I can’t seem to get my mind back onto stomachaches just yet. In fact, I can’t seem to get the boys out there off my mind at all.” He gave a wave of his hand, which Elise knew indicated the battlefields he’d left behind. “I feel I’ve deserted them. It’s as though I hear them calling to me.”
“What if there were soldiers here who needed your help?”
Uncle George shook his head. “You mean the hospital. No, Elise. Your aunt Ella’s talked to me about that almost daily. But they have plenty of good doctors at the hospital. They don’t need me there.”
“I’m not talking about the hospital. I know where there’s a group of soldiers. Some are hurt, one’s sick real bad, and they have no one!”
Uncle George leaned forward, looking at her with new intensity. “Where, Elise? Where are these men?”
“About a half hour out of town north. In the hills. Deserters. I told them I’d bring a doctor. Would you come?”
“Can the buggy get through up there?”
Elise shook her head. “Not all the way. The underbrush is pretty thick. Horseback would be better.”
Uncle George stood to his feet. “I don’t have my bag ready.”
“You can get it ready.” She felt excitement building inside her. “It won’t take you long. I’ll saddle Sierra for you.”
“I’ll go tell your aunt.”
Elise rested her hand on her uncle’s arm. “I wish you wouldn’t. I promised to keep their presence a secret.”
&nbs
p; He nodded. “They’re desperate, I know. I’ll just tell her that I decided to go for a ride in the country.”
“Good.”
Within a few moments, they were riding out of town, side by side. Elise was sure Aunt Ella saw Uncle George’s bag fastened behind him—but that would only tend to encourage her heart. And her aunt was far too wise to intrude with needless questions!
As they rode along, Uncle George thanked Elise for her many letters while he was away. “I looked forward to every one,” he told her. “Your jokes and riddles and drawings became a bright spot to me.”
“I’m pleased to know I helped just a little.”
“More than a little. Why, the boys started asking me if I’d heard from my niece with the riddles. They were all waiting for new riddles to arrive.”
Elise thought about that. It had never occurred to her that her uncle might share her riddles. She tried to picture the men coming to ask about the riddles and the smiles on their faces as they shared them around the campfires. She liked the scene her mind created.
As they turned off the road onto the smaller trail, Elise said, “Don’t be surprised if we’re met with a loaded musket.”
“Be assured, it won’t be the first time,” he said. Then he told her about the time they’d set up the camp hospital in an abandoned house. Rebels came in, pointed their guns at him, and demanded he treat one of their men.
“What did you do?”
“I told them I would have treated him whether they held a gun to me or not. I removed a musket ball from his leg, and they left.” “You helped a Rebel soldier?”
Uncle George nodded. “It wasn’t the first time nor the last.”
Elise wondered what Verly would have to say about that. Thinking of Verly made her suddenly remember. “Uncle George, there’s a soldier up at that camp by the name of Boyd. I heard them say his name, and they said he was real sick. It could be Mrs. Boyd’s son, Alexander. They haven’t heard from him for a long time.”
Uncle George was quiet again. Elise wondered if she’d lost him. Perhaps this was too much for him to handle right now. Perhaps she’d been too hasty to call on him.
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