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

by Gilbert, Morris

  Clay said quickly, “I’ll bring Lowell back later so you can visit, Bailey.”

  “Shore, Captain!”

  When they moved out of that section of the ward, Lowell asked faintly, “Both eyes gone? No hope at all?”

  “Minié ball tore them both out, son,” Clay answered. His answer seemed to cause Lowell to settle into his chair, and he said no more.

  At the end of the building, the matron came out and put her eyes on Lowell. “How’s the stump, Lowell?” she asked briskly.

  Lowell licked his lips and nodded. “It’s healing, Mrs. Pember.”

  “Fine! You’ll be up soon.” She noted that Lowell didn’t respond and said briefly, “You came to see Jimmy. He’s been asking for you for a week, ever since he was brought in.”

  “How…how is he, ma’am?”

  Mrs. Pember stared at him. “Why, he’s dying. I thought you knew that, Lowell.”

  “No hope at all?”

  “No.” There was a stark quality in Mrs. Pember’s voice, and Lowell looked up to see that her lips were drawn tightly together. “The wound was too high to amputate—in the hip, really. Dr. McCaw did the best he could, but there was really nothing he could do.”

  Lowell asked faintly, “Does he know he can’t live?”

  “Yes, it was only just to tell him.”

  Lowell was aware that the three of them were watching him closely. His head felt thick, and the pain from his stump had suddenly struck as it did at times, though not as often now. But he asked, “Can I see him?”

  “Of course. He’s back in the small ward. Come this way.” She led them through a door that opened into a room with four beds, all of them occupied. “It’s a little crowded for all of you,” Mrs. Pember said. “Captain, would you put Lowell’s chair close to Jimmy? Then we can let them have some time.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Pember.” Clay maneuvered the wheelchair into position beside the cot holding the small form of Jimmy Peck, then stepped back. “Rooney and I will visit the others, son.”

  Lowell was not even conscious of their leaving. He was staring at the skull–like features of the young man on the cot. He’s nothing but a skeleton! His eyes went to the blanket that covered the shattered hip, and he saw that it was black with blood.

  Then the eyes opened, and a thin, reedy voice piped up, “Why, hello, Lowell!”

  Lowell reached out and took the thin hand that the boy extended, saying, “Hello, Jimmy.” He could say nothing for a moment, for his throat was constricted. “I’m…glad to see you.”

  Jimmy stared at him with fever-bright eyes. “I…been holdin’ on, Lowell.” He gasped for breath and then whispered, “Wasn’t sure…I could do ’er!”

  Lowell’s eyes suddenly burned with tears. For the first time since he’d awakened to find himself missing a limb, he forgot about his own injury. The thin hand held to his, and he thought of the many fine times the two of them had had—and some bad ones, as well. Jimmy had been so healthy, so full of life! He had been as agile as a squirrel, and his bright eyes filled with fun and laughter no matter how bad things had gotten. Now he was poised at the door of death, and Lowell felt he could not bear it!

  “Tell me…what you been…doin’,” Jimmy gasped. Lowell had no desire to speak of himself. The thought of how he’d been sulking in a room, refusing all help, came to him bitterly, and he choked and lied about how well he was doing. Finally he gave up his feeble attempts and whispered, “Jimmy, I never thought it would come to this!”

  The dying boy moved his head and fixed his eyes on his friend. “Why, shoot, Lowell…don’t you worry none…about me!” He coughed a great tearing cough and then, after he got control, whispered, “Ain’t got too long, Lowell. Got to tell you…something!”

  The life was running out of the boy, and suddenly Lowell looked down and saw that the blood on the blanket was turning scarlet. He ripped the blanket back and saw that crimson blood was escaping in a small jet.

  “Mrs. Pember!” he called out, terrified, and at the same time he reached out and put his finger on the little orifice.

  Soon Mrs. Pember appeared, followed by Clay and Rooney. “Don’t move your finger, Lowell,” she said quietly. “He’ll bleed to death if you do.”

  “Do something!” Lowell pleaded. “Get the surgeon!”

  “I’ll send someone,” Mrs. Pember said, then turned and left the room. “You stay with them, Rooney!”

  Then they were alone, and Lowell’s blood seemed to beat in his ears. He kept his finger on the boy’s artery, trying to pray and failing.

  Jimmy whispered, “I got to tell you…that I wanna meet you in heaven, Lowell.”

  The simple statement struck Lowell Rocklin as hard as a minié ball. He stared at the dying boy, then nodded. “I’ll do my best, Jimmy.”

  “Do you know Jesus?”

  Lowell clamped his jaws together and then shook his head. “No, Jimmy. I don’t.”

  “Well…kin I tell you how to git saved?”

  Rooney stood there transfixed as the pale lips of the boy moved. He spoke of how he’d repented and called on Jesus. Then in a fast-failing voice, he begged Lowell, “You…do it, too, Lowell…please!”

  Rooney saw the tears on Lowell’s face and prayed, Oh God, save him! Then she saw Lowell’s lips moving and heard his words faintly,”…just a sinner—but save me, like You saved Jimmy and Rooney, for Jesus’ sake.”

  Rooney could not see, but she heard Jimmy gasp, “Did…you do ’er, Lowell?”

  “Yes, Jimmy!”

  Then the surgeon, Dr. McCaw, was there, and Jimmy looked up at him. “How long…can I live?” he gasped.

  Dr. McCaw’s face was lined with fatigue, but there was a deep compassion in his voice as he answered, “As long as Lowell keeps his finger on that artery, my boy.”

  Jimmy stared at the doctor for a long moment, then turned his wan face toward Lowell. He whispered, “Are you…saved, Lowell?”

  “Yes, I’m saved, Jimmy!”

  And then Jimmy Peck gave a deep sigh. He reached over and put his hand over Lowell’s, the one keeping his life in. A peaceful smile touched his thin, pale lips. “You can let go, Lowell.”

  But Lowell didn’t let go. For two hours he sat there holding back the flow of blood. When his arm grew dead with the strain, the others tried to help, but Lowell refused, saying, “No, he’s my friend!”

  And then it ended. Jimmy opened his eyes and looked at Lowell. His pulse had grown so erratic that the doctor could not even find it. “He’s lost too much blood. He’s going!” the doctor had said.

  Then Jimmy Peck stroked Lowell’s hand, smiled, and whispered, “I’ll see you…again, Lowell.” Then his eyes closed.

  Dr. McCaw said huskily, “He’s gone, Lowell.”

  Lowell straightened up and sat upright in the wheelchair, staring at the small pale face. “Good-bye, Jimmy,” he murmured. Only Rooney heard him add, “For now.”

  Rooney leaned down and said, “It was fine, Lowell! Just fine!”

  And then Clay bent down and embraced Lowell, whispering, “I’m proud of you, my boy!”

  Slowly Lowell looked up at them. His face was drawn with the struggle, but there was something in his eyes that had not been there before. And when he spoke, the hopelessness that had marked his tone was gone.

  “I want to stay until Jimmy’s buried,” he said quietly.

  “Of course,” Clay answered. “I think that’s what you should do.”

  Rooney was staring at Lowell’s face, marveling at his expression—so different! She asked quietly, “And what then, Lowell?”

  Lowell looked at her, then at his father. His face was pale, but there was a determination in his eyes. “Then I’ll go home. And start living again!” He caught the hand that Clay held out, and Rooney took the other. Looking up at them, he felt so tired but so rested. Finally he said, “I’ll meet Jimmy someday. I know that! But until that time, I’ve got to learn how to be a Rocklin!”

  Clay stared down at hi
s son, and pride laced his voice as he smiled and exclaimed, “You are a Rocklin, Lowell!”

  And it was Rooney who bent over and kissed his cheek, whispering, “And now we can begin, Lowell! Begin all over again!”

  PART FOUR

  Josh

  CHAPTER 19

  TWO WOMEN

  I never saw such a change in a man!” Susanna’s eyes were bright with pride as she spoke of Lowell to David. “Ever since he went to the hospital to visit his friend, he’s been a different person.”

  “It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Grandmother?” Shaking his head, he added, “It’s like he’s risen from the dead!”

  Susanna laughed softly. “You always did have a knack for overstating things!”

  She left him then and entered the dining room. “Hello, Grandmother,” Rena said. She asked without warning, “Grandmother, you told me once that Grandfather came when he was courting and serenaded you, didn’t you?”

  A smile touched the older woman’s lips. “Yes, he did. Couldn’t carry a tune in both hands, but he did it!”

  Rena leaned back, staring at her grandmother almost enviously. “I think that’s wonderful!” she sighed. Then she picked up her fork, nibbled thoughtfully on the fragment of pancake, and asked, “Grandmother, do you think any man will ever serenade me?”

  Rena’s expression was so woebegone that Susanna’s heart went out to her. “I’m sure they will, lots of them,” she said. Then she proved her wisdom by saying, “Oh, when I was your age, I thought I was plain and that no boy would ever like me. I had myself all primed to be an old maiden aunt living with my nephews—something dreadful like that!”

  “Really?”

  “All girls think that at a certain time, Rena.” Susanna smiled and saw that her words had touched a fear that the girl had struggled with. “Of course! Didn’t you know that?”

  “No. I—I thought I was the only one.”

  Susanna sipped the last of her tea, rose, and went around to squeeze the girl’s firm shoulders. “No, all of us feel like that, but you’ll feel different soon. Why, I expect your father will have to run off some of your suitors with his pistol soon enough!”

  Rena giggled and took an enormous wad of pancakes into her mouth. She felt a rush of relief and got up to embrace her grandmother, saying around the mouthful of pancake, “Oh, I love you, Grandmother!”

  Susanna thought, She needs so much encouragement—this war’s robbed her of so much that I had!

  As Rena ran from the room, Dorrie came from where she’d been washing dishes. She’d heard the exchange and was not in the least ashamed of listening. Everything that happened to the Rocklin family was her business, and now she said, “Dat chile is growin’ up, ain’ she?” Her wise old eyes were sober, and she added thoughtfully, “Things ain’t the same, is dey? Not lak when you was her age.”

  “No, Dorrie.” Susanna thought of the days of her youth—carefree, happy times—times that would never come again. But she was too strong to grieve over what could not be changed. “She’s a good girl, Dorrie, but she’s had a hard life. And now she worries about losing her father.”

  Dorrie nodded but said strongly, “She’s a Rocklin, ain’t she? She gonna do fine, so doan you be worryin’ yo’ head. Gawd, He’s knowin“bout all this! You heah me now?”

  Susanna laughed and gave Dorrie a hug. “All right. Now let’s go to work!” She looked out the window, saying, “There goes Josh. If Rena sees him, she’ll make him take her fishing or something.”

  But Josh didn’t see Rena that morning. He made straight for the backyard, where he found Rooney cooking lye soap. She was stirring the mixture in a big black pot, and when Josh rounded the corner and came to her, she greeted him eagerly. “Hi, Josh! Are we ready?”

  “I g–guess so, R–Rooney.” He lifted a small black bag, saying, “I got what we n–need.”

  Rooney looked across the yard to where two of the young slaves were talking. “Lucy, come and finish this soap, will you?” She waited until the two girls came and got their instructions, then said, “Come on, Josh.”

  As Josh followed her, a worried expression came to his face. The wind blew his hair over his eyes, and he brushed it back with his free hand, saying, “I’m a little n–nervous, Rooney.”

  Rooney glanced at him quickly, then said with a reassurance she didn’t quite feel, “It’ll be all right, Josh.” As they approached the door, she slowed down and then turned to face him. Her mop of auburn curls had been blown so that they formed a soft crown, and her wide eyes were thoughtful. “Lowell’s changed. You’ve seen how different he is, haven’t you?”

  Josh nodded, but there was a reluctance in his tone as he answered her. “Yeah, but I ain’t sure h–he’s changed this much!”

  “Come on, Josh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  The two entered the house and moved toward Lowell’s room. Rooney knocked on the door, and when Lowell called out, “Come in,” the two of them entered. Lowell looked at the pair with surprise, for both of them wore rather strained expressions. “Well, you two look like you’ve come to cut my other leg off!” He saw Rooney blink with shock, and Josh looked as if he wanted to turn and run back out of the door!

  Lowell watched them but was thinking, Guess I’ve made some progress—got to where I can make a joke about it, anyway. He noted that his mild remark had shaken them and said, “Well, come on in, both of you.”

  Rooney moved closer, and Josh followed, both of them as nervous as they’d ever been. Lowell noted this; then his eye fell on the bag in Josh’s hands. “What’s that you’ve got, Josh? You bring your lunch?”

  Josh swallowed but could only shake his head. He gave Rooney an agonized glance, and she said, “Lowell, we’ve…been meaning to talk to you…Josh and me.” Her face was pale, and she had trouble with her words.

  Lowell stared at the pair, then said quietly, “Look, whatever it is, you don’t have to be scared out of your wits. I’m not going to shoot you.” He smiled, adding, “I’ve yelled at you enough since you got here so that at least you know my bad behavior won’t kill you. Just tell me what the trouble is.”

  His manner was so mild that Rooney was encouraged, so she took a deep breath and began. “Lowell, Josh and me have been thinking, ever since you got hurt, that we might be able to…to help.”

  Lowell nodded, and a smile touched his lips. “You have helped, Rooney, and you, too, Josh. Anybody else would have left me to wallow in my own pity a long time ago.” He saw that his words made them both feel more comfortable, so he said, “Now I guess your visit has something to do with what Josh has in his suitcase?”

  “Well, yes, it has,” Rooney replied. “You see, we got to thinking awhile back about those legs that soldiers get when they…lose a leg.”

  Josh spoke up. “I c–can make one, Mister Lowell!”

  Lowell stared at Josh, his face filled with surprise. “Make an artificial leg?”

  “S–sure! I c–can do it!”

  Lowell stared at the two, affection coming to his hazel eyes. “Why, I never doubted you could make anything you set your hand to, Josh, but—”

  “We thought of it right after you got back, Lowell!” Rooney’s eyes were alive with excitement. Now that she was certain that Lowell was not going to be angry, she threw herself into convincing him. “First we went to Richmond to see about having you one made. And there’s only two places where you can get a leg.”

  “Guess they must be pretty busy,” Lowell commented.

  “That’s the way it was,” Rooney said with a nod. “They both said they’d have to put us on a list, but it’d be a long time before they can get to us.”

  “B–but I looked around while I was th–there,” Josh said, his thin face stubborn. “And I s–seen how they made them l–legs!”

  Lowell gave Josh a fond look but said doubtfully, “I guess that’s a pretty specialized kind of work, making artificial legs. Not like making a plow or a table.”

  But Josh was ada
mant. “I asked th–the man about making one m–myself.” Josh was the mildest of young men, but Lowell had noted from the first that when he got a notion in his head, he became stubborn. Now the boy’s chin was stuck out, and he said, “He t–told me I couldn’t do it—but I can!”

  Rooney said quickly, “I asked him to let Josh come and watch him, just to learn how.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He said no, but I kept after him until he agreed!”

  “Sh-she shore did, Mister Lowell!” Josh grinned broadly at Rooney. “She d–did it for sure!” Then he laughed as Rooney tried to make him stop. “She t–turned them b–big blue eyes of hers on that f–feller and let her l–lips go tremblin’, and then she said, ‘B–but my sweetheart n–needs this so b–bad!’”

  Lowell shot an astonished look at Rooney, who blushed furiously. “You didn’t!” he exclaimed.

  “Well, he made me do it!”

  “You should have s–seen her, Mister Lowell!” Josh crowed. “She had h–him almost crying!”

  Rooney’s fair cheeks were red as roses, and when Lowell burst into laughter, she pouted, “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

  “I guess so,” Lowell finally answered, then added with a wink toward Josh, “But I’ll be on my guard with you from now on, Rooney. A woman like you can get about anything she wants from a man!”

  “Oh, don’t be foolish!” Rooney snapped. She had begged Josh not to tell Lowell of the incident, and it had embarrassed her. But now that she saw that it had amused Lowell, she felt better. “Now let’s get down to business,” she said. “Josh spent almost a week there, and he learned just about everything. Tell him, Josh!”

  Josh began to speak, and both Lowell and Rooney noted that his stutter grew less noticeable as he became immersed in the explanation. Lowell glanced at Rooney, and she caught his eyes, nodding slightly. How does she know what I’m thinking? Lowell wondered. Have to be careful around this girl!

  “… and so I know I c–can do it,” Josh ended.

  “Well, let’s get started,” Lowell said at once, and his willingness pleased the young man—and Rooney, as well. “What’s first?”