by Zina Abbott
Penelope reflected on how Jeremy had been almost trained. Except for wetting a diaper most nights, she had been able to put drawers on him in the daytime. However, her friend, Delia Sue, a mother of two, warned her babies often back-slid when their routine changed or they found themselves in distressing situations. That was why, rather than give them away before she left home, Penelope kept the diapers and soakers to use on the trip.
Penelope looked down at her gown and groaned. She desperately needed to soak it in cold water in an attempt to get the bloodstains out before she washed it. No doubt, the camisole and chemise beneath it were stained, too. If the stagecoach planned to leave in the morning to arrive at Pond Creek by nightfall, she did not have time. How could she meet her future husband wearing a gown in the condition of this one?
She wished nothing more than to change into clean clothing. She hated the thought of meeting her intended husband wearing her work dress from before Jeremy’s death. She also did not wish to wear her dark green bombazine skirt with its detachable cotton top in a coordinating green with a small white chevron design. It was another charitable gift from Delia Sue that masqueraded as payment for a load of laundry. She had set it aside to be married in and intended to wear it for her out-of-mourning Sunday clothes. If she changed to the outfit now, it would be dusty and possibly stained by the time she reached Pond Creek. Then what would she wear for her wedding?
Penelope checked behind her to the right to make sure Jeremy remained on the floor far from the hot stove which was slightly behind her to her left. He continued to play with his stuffed toy plus the tin cup she gave him, which he occasionally banged against the floor. She next focused on scrubbing the clothes. How I wish I had a scrub board. Perhaps her new husband already had one. For now, she would give them a quick launder and hang them on the rope the stationmaster had so generously strung around the open spaces of the kitchen so the heat from the stove would dry them. Her gaze roamed the wooden boards attached to the support posts on the east side of the kitchen. When the cook helped her set up for laundry, he explained that in the summer, one side remained open so the heat could escape. She suspected the station manager might move the stove inside the main building before long to provide warmth during the approaching winter. Already, evenings were cool enough that if she was not standing next to the stove, she knew she would need her cloak.
Penelope jerked her head up and twisted around to face the door as Captain Garrett, a tin bowl and cup in his hand, stepped inside the kitchen. “Good evening, Captain. If you’re looking for coffee, I’m not sure it’s ready yet.”
“Thank you. I would like some, but I also hope there’s some of that bean stew left.”
“There is, although one is being generous by calling it stew. It was getting dry, so I added water.” She hesitated. “My comment was unseemly. Please don’t repeat it to the stationmaster or the cook. I’m sure they are doing the best they can.”
“You have my word it stays between us.”
Penelope watched him step over to the stove and glance at the remains in the pot.
“I tend to agree with you about the stew, but it beats hardtack.” He next turned his focus to the pot filled with water. “Good. I’m glad to see water heating. I’m going to need it for my surgeries.”
“I-I was heating that for my rinse water. I’d be happy to put more on to boil, but the water barrel is almost empty.”
The captain sighed as he placed his hands on his hips. “I understand there’s another water barrel in the next level down. There are probably more scattered around the fort. I’ll send one of the men to bring a couple of buckets upstairs. Perhaps I can use more than one pot to heat water.” He turned to look at Jeremy. “Mrs. Humphry, how much longer before your son goes to bed for the night?”
Her forehead wrinkling, Penelope studied him. What business is it of his? “I’m not sure, Captain. He slept for several hours this afternoon. Especially with this being a strange place, he might not settle down until later than usual.” She watched him turn his head aside and exhale.
The captain turned to face her once more and caught her gaze with his. “Mrs. Humphry, I have four men out there who require surgery. I have no trained nurse or orderly with me. The cook has been helpful, but his expertise, it seems, begins and ends with food preparation.”
Penelope turned her back to him and faced the wall. “What does that have to do with me, Captain?”
“I need help with my surgery. I can enlist Capt. Conyngham and Lt. Ezekiel or some of their men to help me hold my patients down to keep them still should they try to move while I work on them. I’m sure they, or one of the other men, can hold up a lantern close to where I’m working if I need it. However, I noticed you kept your wits about you and did an admirable job of handling Mr. Pierce’s wound under decidedly difficult conditions. Will you please assist me by providing an extra pair of hands when I need them?”
Her jaw dropped, Penelope spun around once more and stared at him. After all the snapping at each other that had taken place since they began this journey, his compliment surprised her. Seconds passed, and she licked her lips. “I’m flattered, Captain, that you thought well of my efforts to help Mr. Pierce. I-I suppose I could, if you really think I can be of service.” She glanced over at Jeremy. “Of course, I do have to take care of my son first. And…” She grimaced as she glanced down at her gown. “My clothing is filthy. I do have a work apron that would cover the worst of it, if you think it would be acceptable.” Under his scrutiny that followed she pushed back her discomfort.
“Mrs. Humphry, that will work with the following adjustments. If it will not scandalize you terribly, I have several clean shirts I brought with me. I’ll loan you one to put over your gown. That way, you will not risk your apron.”
Penelope blanched. Wear men’s clothing? After all the times she had criticized Roslyn for wearing her brother’s outgrown clothing—supposedly for efficiency’s sake? Under no circumstances would she agree to wear a man’s shirt. She certainly would not wear one belonging to a man who was not a family member. Besides, if she did agree to it, and Roslyn ever found out, she knew she would never hear the end of it.
Penelope clasped her wet, soapy hands in front of her and straightened her spine. “No, Captain. My one work gown is worse for wear, but it is clean. I prefer to wear that and my apron.” She offered a weak smile. “For several years, I did laundry for a living. If I happen to get a stain on either my gown or apron, I know the best way to get it out. Besides, doing so will afford me the opportunity to soak what I am now wearing in cold water so I have a better chance of getting it clean once more.” She waved her fingers to indicate her bodice.
The captain lifted an eyebrow and offered a hint of a smile. “As you wish, Mrs. Humphry. Do you have a place to change?”
“The lieutenant said he would give up his room for Jeremy and me. I’ll ask if I may use it before you start your surgery.” Penelope’s breath caught. “Will I have time to finish my laundry before you need me?”
She watched Capt. Garrett dish beans and meat into his plate and pour coffee into his cup. “You do. I’ll take my meal in the other room. While you finish what you need to do, I’ll set things up on my end.”
It was only after she and Jeremy were alone in the room again that she realized, by agreeing to change into her clothes from before her husband’s death, it would mark the beginning of her setting aside her period of mourning.
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Chapter 12
~o0o~
A fter eating his supper faster than good manners allowed, Marcus stood to take his dishes to the kitchen. He wondered how much longer Mrs. Humphry would be doing her laundry. It was time to get things set up for his surgery, which meant he needed to have access to the stove to boil water and the laundry tub for used bandages. As much as he would prefer to toss the ones he used into a fire and forget about them, he knew he would require more
than what he brought along. Before the night was over, it would be him washing and boiling strips of cloth to hang next to the baby’s diapers to dry.
As Marcus entered the kitchen, he ducked to his right to avoid a diaper hanging halfway across the path between the door and the bucket already full of dishes. He nodded as he stepped over and added his to the pile. “It looks like you’ve just about completed your task.” He looked down and realized Jeremy rubbed his eyes while he sat slumped against the wall to the right. “It also looks like your son is about ready to go down for the night.”
Wearing a smile, Penelope Humphry turned from the washtub over which she had been wringing out a cloth. “This is my last one, Captain. As soon as I hang it, I asked the cook to refill the pot so you’ll have all the water you need. The kettle is already filled, and I believe the water is close to boiling.”
As Marcus stared at the woman, his breath left his body. When she smiled, she was beautiful. During most of their interactions, he had not seen her smile. Her lifted chin and stubborn—no, determined—bearing had been most evident. But now…. You have too much to do to admire a pretty woman’s smiling face.
Marcus cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He studied the depth of water left in the two buckets. “I’ll ask the cook to bring up more water. With four men to tend to, I’ll need all I can get. I have some containers in my supplies, but I’ll need one or two more large bowls, mainly for washing hands and sanitizing.”
Mrs. Humphry shook out the diaper and reached for the remaining section of rope hanging on the side of the door where Jeremy was. “Please tell me you have soap for handwashing, Captain. After washing all these clothes, I’m afraid I’m down to a sliver. Whatever goods Mr. Layton sells, I hope soap is among them. I can make my own, of course, but I must have a good supply of ashes and rendered animal fat to do so.”
Marcus found that interesting. With soap readily available for purchase, especially in towns like Lawrence where she used to live, she knew how to make soap. Then again, if she did laundry for a living, perhaps making at least some of her own soap kept her costs down. He dropped the volume of his voice. “I have soap. In fact, I have a bar you may keep to use…for the baby. Mrs. Humphry, you said you wished to change. If you are ready by the time I set up my surgery, I’d like to get started as soon as possible.”
“Certainly, Captain.” She leaned down to pick up Jeremy and his stuffed toy and faced the door. “I’ll see if the lieutenant has the room ready for me.”
“Thank you. I’ll have the cook wash these dishes and wipe down the kitchen so we have a clean work area in here for sanitizing things.” Marcus held in a smile as Mrs. Humphry slowly turned back and raised her eyebrows.
“Sanitize things? Do you mean with soap and hot water? I’ll gladly wash any bowls and pans again to make sure he removed all the grease and they are rinsed with boiling water.”
Marcus allowed his lips to separate with his smile. Evidently, she does not think too highly of a man’s ability to properly wash and rinse dishes. “I’ll give the cook the benefit of the doubt until I see reason not to. What I need is a wash basin with warm water in which we can wash our hands, and a second bowl with a mild solution of boiled water that has cooled and carbolic acid.” He hesitated. Would she be interested in his reasoning behind his protocol, or would she find it boring and unnecessary? “Have you ever heard of Louis Pasteur and his germ theory?”
Penelope dipped her head and shifted her eyes side to side as she thought over what he said. “I think I remember reading something in the newspapers about someone by that name, but I don’t recall the details of what he discovered.”
“Before the war, when I worked mostly as an apothecary and a physician’s assistant, I studied writings about his work. He discovered there are microbes, tiny living organisms too small for the eye to see, that are all around us. Some people call them germs. It’s these microbes—not miasma or bad blood—that cause infection. The doctor I worked with before the war believed that, by washing his hands with soap and water that had been boiled and then cooled, he spared many of his patients from getting infections.”
“I-I’ve never heard of that.”
“Many people haven’t. Believe me, I drew the ridicule and ire of many a field surgeon because I insisted on using soap and water to wash the wounded area on injured soldiers, plus I used soap and water to wash my hands between each wounded soldier. Most of the surgeons were senior to me and many had medical degrees from colleges, whereas I was trained on the job. I think many of them were unwilling to admit that their unsanitary practices during their surgeries were responsible for many of the deaths by infection that followed.”
“So, you believe by using soap and boiled water, you can help these men get well faster?”
“Yes. That and the use of a carbolic acid solution. A British surgeon named Joseph Lister studied germ theory and experimented with the best way to control the microbes during surgery. He’s the one who came up with the idea of using carbolic acid to clean everything, including his instruments, before surgery. He recently published in the British medical journal, The Lancet, which I happened to get copies of. Especially once I decided to stay with the Army another five years, and I realized I might be dealing with different kinds of wounds than what came off the battlefields back east. Like Pvt. Colby’s arrow wound. I made a point to memorize his recommendations and keep bottles of carbolic acid on hand.”
“What does it do? I’ve heard of boric acid, which my midwife used on me and Jeremy after he was born. I’ve never heard of the other.”
“Carbolic acid has stronger antiseptic properties than boric acid. That’s why I don’t dare use it full strength. Mrs. Humphry, I’m going to ask you do something that might seem strange to you. After you change, I will ask you roll up your sleeves just like you did while doing laundry, and...”
“Oh!” Penelope’s face flamed red. Reaching around Jeremy’s body, she hurriedly worked the fabric of her sleeves to cover her down to her wrists once more. “Here I have been in the presence of gentlemen, and I…well…I just automatically rolled up my sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while I scrubbed laundry. It didn’t occur to me how unseemly it is to be seen—”
Marcus shook his head and cut her off. “No, Mrs. Humphry. There was nothing unseemly about your actions. You did what was appropriate for your task. I will ask you to do what is appropriate for the task I will require of you. I will need you to roll up your sleeves to your elbows, scrub your exposed skin with soap and water, and then douse it with the carbolic acid solution I will prepare. I need you to do that between each patient. Realizing what I require, are you still willing to help?”
Penelope bit the side of her lip and then expelled a breath. “Of course, Captain. The lives of these men are more important than convention.”
Marcus smiled. “Thank you. If it helps you feel any better, I will do the same.” He allowed a teasing tone to enter his voice. “I hope you will not find seeing my bare arms up to my elbows shocking.”
Penelope shook her head. “No. I’ve been married, Captain. I’ve-I’ve seen my husband.”
Marcus studied her. Yes, but you haven’t seen me in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “Just so you know ahead of time so you are not surprised. I look forward to working with you, Mrs. Humphry.” He reached over and held the door open for her.
As Penelope Humphry walked out of the kitchen and over to the lieutenant to check on the availability of a room, he realized just how much he anticipated the pleasure of working with her in the next several hours. Don’t get any ideas. As much as you disapprove of where she is going, she is promised to another man.
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Chapter 13
~o0o~
B efore this night, Penelope never would have guessed that someone would think she had a talent for assisting a doctor during surgery. She still felt slightly dazed at the thought. She knew she had learned
many things about nursing while taking care of her mother suffering from cancer, but what the captain expected from her was entirely different.
Fortunately, Jeremy fell asleep soon after she changed him into a dry diaper and put him to bed on the floor where she made a nest of blankets. She pulled her everyday gown from her valise and changed out of her purple gown. Fortunately, she had both a clean chemise and camisole. Even though many women had started wearing stiffened corsets, because of her work doing laundry, she still favored a soft camisole made of two layers of form-fitting cotton which was fastened by laces. Noting a small amount of blood had seeped through the purple silk and stained the camisole, she put it with her dress to take to the kitchen to soak in cold water. With all the water I’m using, those that live here will be glad to see me go.
When Penelope descended the stairs that lead to the attic sleeping rooms, she reentered the main room and took note of the changes. A glance to the front of the building told her an additional pair of soldiers from the fort joined the two who were first assigned to watch the wounded. Neither wore uniform coats. She snapped her gaze to Capt. Garrett when he spoke.
“With as busy as the cook is, I asked the lieutenant to send me two more men to serve as orderlies and help prepare our patients for surgery. They’ll help carry them back and forth to the table. I appreciate all the water you and the cook put on to heat.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “One of the new men was not overly thrilled that I made him use some of it to bathe with before he put on a clean shirt. The other seems enthusiastic about being here.”