Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga)

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Yes, he is.” Rocklin took a deep breath as much of the concern that had been plaguing him melted away. He smiled ruefully at Frankie. “My apologies, Frankie, for sounding so brusque when I came in. Things were infernally busy today, and all I could think of was Tyler and the fact that I couldn’t be home…and what I would do if I came home to the news that…that he—” His voice broke, and Frankie was deeply touched by the man’s evident love for his son.

  What would it be like to have a father who loved you so much? she wondered.

  “Well…” Rocklin recovered his voice. “Thank God for the good news! Now how are you getting on, and how is Mrs. Rocklin?”

  Frankie smiled reassuringly. “She’s pretty weak, but she ate this morning, and a little tonight. I think she must be over the worst of her illness. I expect she’d like to see you.” Frankie added, with a twinkle in her eye, “She’s the prettiest lady—and so nice!”

  Gideon laughed, saying, “Well, I think so, Frankie.”

  He turned at once toward the bedroom he shared with his wife, and Frankie went to the kitchen, where she got a basin of hot water and some towels. Then she went to Tyler’s room, announcing at once, “Your father just came in. Let me fix you up a little so you won’t scare him to death.”

  “Do I look that bad, Frankie?” Tyler managed a small grin. “It’ll take more than a nurse to pretty me up!” Frankie picked up a comb and brush and began to smooth his black hair. When she caught a snag, he yelped, “Hey! That hurts!”

  “Oh, don’t be such a baby!” Frankie said. “Tomorrow I’m going to wash your hair and cut it, too. You’re woolly as a bear.”

  “How would you know how woolly a bear is?” Tyler growled.

  “I’ve killed four of them,” Frankie shot back.

  “Aw, you never did that!”

  Frankie smiled, pausing to concentrate on her task. Tyler’s matted hair was hard to manage, so she began to hold to the thick locks with one hand, pulling the comb through with the other. “Sure I did,” she finally responded. “And I faced down another one that just about got me.” As she worked on Tyler, getting him cleaned up, she told the story of how she’d met a female grizzly bent on guarding her pair of cubs—and how she’d nearly been their lunch. It made an exciting story, and Tyler listened with intense interest.

  “I’ve never even seen a grizzly bear, Frankie,” he observed, “let alone had to face one down. You must be pretty good with a gun.”

  “Had to be,” she said, smiling. “When there’s a family to feed and you’ve got only so much money for powder, you can’t afford to miss.” She stepped back, studying her handiwork with some degree of approval. “That’ll do until I can wash it,” she announced. “Now let me have that nightshirt.”

  Tyler flushed, his square face showing some embarrassment. He began to struggle to pull the garment off, but Frankie saw his face grow tense with pain as the movement strained his wounded leg.

  “Hold on, Tyler.” She pulled a sheet over his lower body, then stepped forward, saying, “Let me help you with that.” She was very strong, Tyler saw right off as she moved him easily into a sitting position and eased the nightshirt off. He pulled the sheet up, saying, “A sick man shouldn’t worry about modesty, I guess.”

  Frankie grinned at him. “Don’t worry about it, Private. I’ve taken care of a sick brother most of my life. You won’t shock me. Now why don’t you wash while I get you a fresh nightshirt.”

  When Gideon entered the room five minutes later, he found Tyler looking much better than he had the previous night. His freshly combed hair and clean clothing vastly improved his appearance. His eyes were clearer, too, which was a good sign. “Why, you look fit to soldier!” Gideon remarked with a smile and moved over to sit down next to the bed. Frankie was gathering up the towels and the basin, and he asked, “He been a good patient, Frankie?”

  “Contrary as a mule,” she shot back. “You tell him if he doesn’t shave himself, I’m going to do it for him!”

  Rocklin laughed, and as the girl left, he turned back to his son. “If I were you, I’d mind that girl. She’s liable to do what she says.”

  “Where’d you find her?” Tyler asked. “She sure is a funny sort of girl.”

  Rocklin gave a brief history, telling what little he knew of Frankie, and ended by saying, “I think she’s had a pretty hard time, Tyler. Pretty tough to live like she does.” He shrugged his shoulders, adding, “You know how soldiers are as far as women are concerned. I was pretty skeptical at first whether she’d be a help or a problem. Some of these women who call themselves sutlers are no better than camp followers. But this one is a fine girl, maybe because of Sol Levy.”

  Tyler sat there listening and finally said, “Well, she’s a strong young woman. Handles me like I was stuffed with feathers! And did you know she’s killed four bears and outwitted a mama grizzly bent on protecting her cubs?”

  Gideon laughed, exclaiming, “No, but it doesn’t surprise me.” He sat there talking with Tyler, and finally the boy expressed a fear that had been in him.

  “I…worry some about this leg, Dad,” he said, looking down at the bandages.

  “Dr. Smith said you’re doing well.”

  “You know how quickly these things can go bad,” Tyler said slowly. He was a blocky young man, built much like his grandfather. His dark brown eyes usually danced with devilment, but now they were filled with apprehension. “And if the knee is torn up too bad, I—I’ll be a cripple.”

  “The doctors were pretty sure that wouldn’t happen,” Gideon said quickly, wanting to give Tyler some assurance. What he didn’t mention was that all of the doctors had agreed that, even at best, the knee would heal slowly—which meant Tyler would be out of the army. He smiled at his son. “First, we’ve got to get this wound healed up. Then you can begin exercising that leg a little at a time. It’ll take awhile, but I’m thanking God that you didn’t lose the leg and that you weren’t killed.”

  “Sure, Dad,” Tyler agreed with a nod. “I am, too. But it’s going to be hard lying here with nothing to do.”

  “Coax Frankie to entertain you.” Gideon smiled. “She’s very good with the men in the hospital.”

  “She can’t stay here forever, though.”

  Gideon had no answer for that, for he felt that he had already asked too much of the girl. Later, however, when he sought out Frankie, who was cleaning up the kitchen, he cautiously began to explore the possibility of keeping her on.

  “I know Mr. Levy must need you, Frankie,” he said. “You two stay busy all the time.”

  “He told me to stay as long as you needed me, Major Rocklin,” Frankie answered. She looked up from the sink, and the amber glow from the light overhead brought a reddish glint to her short curly hair. She had, Rocklin noticed, strong, square hands.

  “I’ve got to hire someone to take care of Tyler for a while, and my wife needs looking after, too. I know it’s asking a great deal, but you’ve done so well that I’d like to keep you on.” He mentioned a salary, then added, “It would be doing us all a great service if you could stay here for a time.”

  “Why, I’ll be happy to stay, Major,” Frankie said. “Personally, I think I’m better at plowing behind a mule than I am at housework, but I’ll do my best. I’ll stay as long as Sol says it’s all right.”

  “Fine!” Rocklin said, greatly relieved. He got to his feet at once. “That’s a great relief to me, and to my wife, too. I’ll just go tell her that you’ll be staying on. I’ll let you break the news to Tyler.”

  When Frankie told Tyler that she’d agreed to stay, he looked as relieved as his father had. “I’m glad to hear that! Hate to go to all the trouble of breaking a new nurse in!”

  Frankie sniffed, saying, “I’m not going to put up with your bossy ways, Private Rocklin. Now I’m going to try to get you cleaned up.” A humorous light touched her green eyes, and she added, “I entered a pig in the contest at the county fair once. Got him cleaned up fine enough to w
in first place, too.”

  Tyler stared at her. “I’m not a pig!”

  “I should say not! You’re not in as good a shape as my pig was! You certainly won’t win first place! But I’ll do the best I can. Person has to use whatever’s at hand.”

  She left the room, and Tyler called out as she passed through the door, “Hey, I can always go back to the hospital, where I’ll get a little respect!” When the door closed behind her, he chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “I am a pretty sorry sight, I guess,” he muttered. Then he raked his fingernails across his jaw, thinking, Guess a shave wouldn’t hurt, either….

  In the weeks that followed, Gideon Rocklin offered fervent thanks that God had sent Miss Frankie Aimes his way. Melanie seemed to improve for a time, but then a setback that even Dr. Smith could not explain laid her low, keeping her bedfast for many days. As for Tyler, his progress was erratic at best. His leg healed very slowly, and sudden fevers would assail him, leaving him weak and pale.

  During the trying days of his family’s illnesses, Gideon was forced to spend long hours at camp, working with the Army of the Potomac, which was composed of still-shattered men in desperate need of confidence in themselves or their cause. General George McClellan worked at putting the army back together night and day, and he had sent for Gideon early on. The two men had spent a pleasant half hour reminiscing about their days in service in the Mexican War. It amazed Gideon that the general remembered him, but McClellan was a remarkable man in many ways. Primarily he was a man of organization, able to pull loose threads together. As their talk had drawn to a close, he had said, “Major, I’m depending on you to pull your regiment into a strong unit. The president wants to strike at the enemy as soon as possible, and I propose to do exactly that!”

  “General Scott believes we must first control the Mississippi and the coast—that we must strangle the South.”

  McClellan had waved his hand airily. “Oh, I admire General Scott, of course, but his plan would take far too long. We must strike the South where it lives: Richmond.”

  “Well, it will take a strong army, General McClellan. We’ll be on their ground, and our supply lines will be very long. You know Jeb Stuart and what he can do.”

  But McClellan would acknowledge no danger of failure, and Rocklin had committed himself to getting the regiment up to full strength. Throwing himself into that task forced him to rely greatly on Frankie to care for his family, which she did with great efficiency.

  Sol Levy came often, visiting with Tyler and keeping Frankie posted on his activities. He came at odd times, sometimes early in the morning, and once in a while in the evenings. Late one afternoon in October, Frankie answered a knock at the door and found the old man standing there. He looked very tired, and, startled, Frankie pulled him inside, scolding him for going around in such cold weather without a heavier coat.

  “Can’t have you getting sick,” she fussed, making him sit down and pull his soaked shoes off beside the wood cookstove. She fixed him a hot meal of eggs, ham, and biscuits and molasses. Finally she sat down and drank coffee with him.

  He ate slowly, and Frankie watched him, a worried frown creasing her brow. She noted that he had lost weight, and his eyes seemed sunken back more deeply into his skull. He appeared to be in good spirits, but he spoke far more slowly than was his habit, and he looked exhausted.

  “Tell me about the boy,” he said, sipping his coffee as Frankie gave him the details of Tyler’s recovery. Sol listened and nodded. “He will be all right. I have prayed much for him. Now I will tell you about the work.…”

  He spoke with pride of how many thousands of tracts and books he had passed on to the soldiers, and Frankie understood that his work as a sutler meant nothing to him. He was very proud of how he’d learned to speak with the men about their soul, though he laughed ruefully as he added, “Some of them get offended, but I think even they know I love them.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, saying with wonder, “I do love them, Frankie! And that’s a miracle, because until I found Jesus, I never really loved anyone except myself.”

  “I can’t believe that, Sol.” Frankie put her hand on his and squeezed it. “You’ve shown such love to me!”

  “Only because God put it there.” Levy lifted his faded eyes and studied the face of the young woman. He wanted to say so much more to her, to warn her that life was short and every day without God was not only dangerous but a tragic loss. But he had learned when to speak and when to keep quiet, so he only smiled at her, saying, “You will find out someday, daughter, that the thing most people call ‘love’ isn’t really love at all. Only the love that flows from God through us…only that love is real and lasts forever.”

  He left shortly afterward, and when Frankie went in to give Tyler his medicine, he saw at once that she was not as cheerful as usual. “What’s the matter, Frankie?” he asked. “All this nursing getting you down?”

  “Oh no,” she sighed. “It’s just that I worry about my friend, Mr. Levy.” She poured the dark brown medicine from a bottle into a spoon, then said to him as he opened his mouth, “You’re just like a baby bird opening his mouth for a worm!”

  Tyler made a terrible face, then grinned. “I’d just as soon eat worms as that stuff!” He shifted in his bed, then said, “Sit down and talk to me, Frankie. I’m so tired of myself I could scream.” When she was seated, he said, “Tell me about yourself. I’ve told you everything I ever did in my whole life, but I don’t know anything about you.”

  Frankie began to speak of Sol Levy and how he’d come to her at a time in her life when she desperately needed somebody. The room was quiet, and without intending to, she spoke about her past and her family. She even told Tyler how much her father had wanted sons, and how her brother, Timothy, had been a disappointment to him. She shared stories of her childhood days, talking of hunting, fishing, and riding—unwittingly painting a poignant picture of a young girl learning to work and play like a boy.

  Tyler listened quietly, thinking as Frankie spoke: Poor girl! Why, she never had a childhood! That old reprobate of a father ought to be horsewhipped, and I wouldn’t mind taking on the job! He began to understand why Frankie wore men’s clothing and seemed somewhat mannish in her ways. She’s got to learn to be a woman, he decided. Can’t go through life wearing britches and acting like a man.

  He tried to touch on this when she was finished and got up to leave. “Frankie, haven’t you ever wanted to buy a frilly dress and go to dances?”

  Frankie gave him an odd look but merely said, “I guess I’m too old for all that, Tyler. I’ll just have to be what I am.” She left the room, and the young man lay there, growing drowsy from the effects of the medicine Frankie had given him. He tried to think of some way he could help but could come up with nothing. Just before he dropped off, he gave an impatient snort and mumbled, “Well, blast it! What can I do?”

  Melanie Rocklin recovered from her setback as rapidly as she had come down with it—within three days she was up and about. She was so happy to be able to take care of Tyler and do her work that Gideon and Dr. Smith took her to task for overdoing it, but Melanie was a woman who hated inactivity.

  “God has healed me, and He doesn’t intend for me to stay in that bed and be waited on,” she told them with a bright smile. “It’s His present to me, and I intend to enjoy it!”

  Before long, she had decided that nothing would do but to have a party to celebrate her recovery—and Tyler’s, as well, for by the middle of November, he had passed through the crisis. Dr. Smith gave his opinion to the family that the wounds were healed. “No chance of gangrene now,” he said, smiling.

  Gideon and Melanie rejoiced, and Tyler was relieved. “What about this knee, Dr. Smith?” he asked. “Can I start using it?”

  “Yes, but have a little sense, young man. The knee is one of the most complicated and fragile mechanisms of your body. It needs a slow period of light exercise, plus rest. Miss Aimes, I’m going to give you the exerc
ises our young friend should do and trust you to run herd on him.” A smile touched the doctor’s thin lips. “And you’d best go cut yourself a switch to use on this young fellow if he gets too ambitious.”

  “I think Mrs. Rocklin will have to use the switch,” Frankie said. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Oh?” Dr. Smith lifted his eyebrows. “Well, I want to tell you what a fine job you’ve done, Miss Frankie. I’m sure the Rocklins will miss you. They’ve all told me how fond they’ve become of you, so don’t be surprised if they object to your leaving.”

  They did protest, Tyler most of all. He moaned, “I’m spoiled, Frankie! Mother won’t bring me hot chocolate every night like you do!”

  But Frankie only shook her head when both Gideon and Melanie asked her to stay on. “You don’t really need me now, and I’m worried about Mr. Levy. He hasn’t been well this winter.”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Gideon agreed. “You ought to make him take time off and rest up.”

  “Just what I’m going to do!”

  When Gideon took Frankie back to camp, he spoke of his gratitude. “Money won’t pay for what you did, Frankie,” he said. “Don’t know how we’d have made it without you.” He paid her a bonus, but it was his words and the knowledge of a job well done that pleased Frankie the most. She shook the major’s hand and gave him a warm smile, then went in search of Sol.

  When she finally found him, Frankie was shocked at the sight of her friend. He was in his tent, too weak to get out of bed. “Sol! How long have you been sick?” she demanded.

  “Oh, I’ve just been a little under the weather,” he whispered. “Be all right soon, now that you’re here.”

  “You’re not staying in this tent another day!” Frankie announced. “You’re going into the hospital!”

  Frankie marched into regimental headquarters and asked to see the major. He came out immediately and asked, “What’s wrong? Is it Mr. Levy?”