Encounter at Cold Harbor (13 page)

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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

BOOK: Encounter at Cold Harbor
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“Nelson Majors?” The woman picked up a notebook and leafed through it. “He’s in Ward G. That’s out the door to your left.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

Jeff left the office, turned left, and made his way down the hallway.

When he got to Ward G, he stepped inside. The ward was lined on both sides with cots, all of them occupied, except for those where the men were able to walk about. A stubby man in rather dirty clothes was mopping the floor.

Jeff said to him, “I’m looking for Colonel Majors.”

The man immediately stopped mopping and leaned on the mop handle. It was as if he had been looking for an excuse to quit work. “Colonel Majors? Why, he ain’t here!”

Apprehension shot through Jeff.
He’s dead!
he thought. He swallowed hard and said, “Where is he?”

“Why, they come and took him!”

“Who
took him?”

“A redheaded woman! I was standing right here when she come in and bucked up against Dr. Washington.” He wheezed and laughed silently. “She told him off, she did. Like nobody else. Said he wasn’t fit to doctor hogs.”

Relief flooded through Jeff. “Was the woman’s name Mrs. Fremont?”

“I think that’s what she said. She had another soldier with her. A sergeant.”

“That was my brother.” Jeff nodded. “Where did they take him?”

“Said they was takin’ him back home. I reckon you might know where that is?”

“Yes, I know. Thanks a lot.” Jeff left the ward, having to walk slowly. Besides feeling weak, he had had little to eat. “Don’t know if I can get all the way out to Uncle Silas’s house on foot,” he said.

He started walking, however, and within five minutes a wagon pulled up beside him, a man and a woman on the seat.

“Hello, soldier!”

Jeff looked up. “Howdy! Sure could use a ride.”

“You been fightin’, have you?”

“Yes, got shot at the Crater.”

“Where you goin’?” the woman asked, sympathy in her eyes.

“I’m goin’ to Silas Carter’s house in the country.”

The woman’s eyes opened with surprise. “Silas Carter? Why, he’s a neighbor of ours.”

“Sure is,” the man said. He was heavyset and almost spilled out of his clothes. “Get in here! Move over, Eulah. Make room for that soldier.”

With some difficulty Jeff climbed up and sat in the back of the wagon.

The man spoke to the horses, and they moved forward again.

“You know Silas ain’t home, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know that, but I think my father’s there.”

“I did hear somethin’ about that,” the woman said. “I ain’t met your father, of course.”

Grateful for the ride, Jeff swayed with the wagon. He was thinking about what the orderly had said—that Eileen Fremont had just about saved his father’s life.

He answered the questions the couple put to him, but his mind was ranging ahead.
If she saved Pa’s life, I’ll sure be grateful to her as long as I live
.

13
Jeff Changes His Mind

G
etting down from the wagon, Jeff looked up at the friendly couple and smiled. “Sure do thank you for the ride. I don’t think I could’ve made it without you!”

“Why, it’s little enough to do for one of our heroes,” the woman said, smiling back.

Jeff shook his head. “Don’t reckon I’m much of a hero.”

“You are to us,” the man said. “Anybody that keeps the Yankees out of Richmond is a hero. Do you think we can keep ’em out much longer?”

Jeff had no answer and said merely, “I hope so. Well, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, soldier. May God be with you.”

As the wagon moved on, he started toward the house. He had not had anything to eat since the previous day, and his arm was hurting fiercely. The doctor had bound it up and put it in a sling, but there had been no pain medication to give him.

“Jeff!”

Leah sailed out the door. Her eyes were wide, and her hair floated behind her as she ran to him.

“Jeff, are you all right?”

“Sure,” he said. He managed a grin. “I got shot, but it wasn’t too bad.”

Leah’s eye flew to the sling. “Come on in the house and sit down.”

“Reckon I’d be ready for that,” Jeff said wearily. His head began to swim, and he staggered slightly.

She reached for him, saying quickly, “Lean on me, Jeff.”

“Guess I’ll have to.” Jeff put his right arm around her shoulders, and she helped him across the yard. As they went up the steps, he grew even more dizzy and said, “I don’t … know if I can make it, Leah.”

“Just a few more steps,” she urged. She was practically shoving him up the last step when the door opened and Eileen came out. She took one look and said, “Here, let’s get him inside. Jeff, you’re white as a sheet.”

“Don’t feel too good,” he muttered.

The two women maneuvered him through the door and into the sitting room, where they put him into an upholstered horsehide chair.

Jeff laid his head back against the cushion and whispered, “Thanks. Good thing it wasn’t farther.”

“Have you had anything to eat?” Leah asked.

“Yesterday.”

“Leah, you stay with him. He needs some water, and I’ll fix him some broth. I’ll go out and kill a chicken.”

Jeff heard, but his eyes were closed, and he felt as though he was going to lose consciousness. He felt Leah’s hand on his head.

“Have you had a fever?”

“Thought I was over it,” he mumbled. “I guess not.”

“You’ll be all right now that you’re home. We’ll take care of you, Eileen and me.”

“How’s Pa?” Jeff asked. When no answer came, he opened his eyes and saw the worried look on
Leah’s face. Instantly he straightened up, the movement sending pain through his wounded arm. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“Oh, no! He’s not dead, Jeff. He’s just not as well as we’d like.”

“What about the bullet?”

“Well, the doctor took that out. But there’s been some kind of infection, and he can’t seem to shake off the fever. Can’t eat much.”

“I want to see him.”

He struggled to get up, but Leah firmly pushed his head back. “You lie right there! You’re a patient too, now, so you’ll have to mind what I say.”

Jeff studied her through slitted eyes. A smile pulled at his lips, and he whispered, “I guess you’ll like that. You always did want to boss me around.”

Leah seemed truly worried about him. He supposed he had lost weight and that his face was paler than she had ever seen it. She pulled his cap off and smoothed his hair back. “You’re awfully dirty,” she said.

“Not many places to take a bath out on the lines,” he defended himself. “Tell me more about Pa.”

“I’ll tell you just a little, and then we’re going to get you fed and cleaned up.”

Jeff, in all truthfulness, did not feel like arguing. He sat there, quietly listening to Leah tell how Eileen and Tom had practically kidnapped his father from the hospital.

“You would have been proud of her, Jeff, from what Tom said.”

“The orderly remembered her too. Said she was like a redheaded drill sergeant. Really told the doctor off.”

“She’s a wonderful nurse. I would have been scared to death if she hadn’t been here. She’s taking such good care of your father—hardly ever leaves his side.”

Shortly after that, Jeff dropped off to sleep. When he awoke, there was a wonderful smell of food, and he opened his eyes.

Eileen stood before him with a large, steaming bowl. “Now, can you feed yourself?”

“Why, of course I can, Mrs. Fremont!” He proved it by sitting up and eating the entire bowl of chicken broth with the large spoon she gave him.

Both women watched him, giving him pieces of cornbread from time to time.

When he was finished, he said, “That was the best thing I’ve had to eat in a month—since we left here! Can I see Pa now?”

“No, we’re going to get you cleaned up.”

“I can clean myself up!” Jeff protested. He had no choice over the matter, however, for soon he was stripped to the waist and being bathed gently but firmly by both women. And then the dressing on his arm was changed.

“You can have one of Tom’s shirts. It’ll be a little bit large,” Leah said. She helped Jeff into it and put the sling back on. “Now, I think he can see his father. Don’t you think so, Eileen?”

“Come along. We’ll see if he’s awake.”

Jeff got up carefully, and when Leah took his arm, he protested again. “You don’t have to help me!”

“Hush, Jeff! I don’t want to hear anything else out of you. I’ve been so worried about you, and now I’ve got a chance to take care of you, so you might as well be quiet!”

Actually Jeff liked the attention, but he muttered, “Makes a fella feel like a baby!”

The trio moved down the hall and through a doorway, and Jeff saw his father lying flat on the bed. His face was pale, but his eyes were open. “Jeff!” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

Jeff, with Leah’s help, moved over beside the bed where a chair was shoved under him. “Sure, I’m all right, Pa. Got a little nick. Nothin’ serious. How are you?”

Nelson Majors’s cheeks were sunken, and so were his eyes. His skin was pale and sallow. “Well, to tell the truth, I have felt better,” he murmured. Then he looked over at Eileen and tried to grin. “But if it wasn’t for this lady here and Leah, I’d be feeling a lot worse—or not feeling at all.”

“You’ll be all right, Nelson,” Eileen said. “Now you have a good talk with Jeff while I go fix you something special to eat.”

The women left, and Jeff sat beside his father. The colonel seemed tired and would drop off to sleep for short periods of time, sometimes only for a few seconds.

“Can’t seem to stay awake.” He half laughed. Then he said, “Tell me about the battle. How’d you get shot?”

Jeff told him about the Battle of the Crater, describing it as well as he could.

By the time he had finished, Leah and Eileen were back. They had brought a soup of some sort of meat that had been boiled until it fell apart.

“Let me help you up, Nelson.” With surprising strength for one so small, Eileen set the big man upright. She fluffed the pillow behind him and said,
“Now, you’re going to eat every bite of this if I have to shove it down your throat!”

Nelson winked at his son. “That’s the way they treat a fellow, Jeff. I got no rights at all around here.”

“I think you better mind her. From what I heard, she’s a bad woman to cross.”

Eileen had a forkful of meat poised before the colonel’s lips, but at Jeff’s words she turned toward him.

Jeff smiled. It was the first time that he had ever smiled at her, as far as he could remember.

She smiled back. “I guess I behaved pretty badly at the hospital.”

“Tom thought she was gonna cut that doctor’s gizzard out,” Jeff said. “He said he had to hold her back to keep her from pullin’ him baldheaded.”

“He didn’t say any such thing!” Eileen protested, blushing.

Now everybody was laughing at Mrs. Fremont, and she grew flustered. “A person does what they have to do!” she said firmly. Then she shoved the meat into Nelson’s mouth, saying, “Now, you chew on that and chew it up good.”

Late that afternoon, Jeff, sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, saw a horseman coming. Soon he recognized the rider and hollered, “Tom! It’s me!”

Tom Majors swung off the horse, tied it to the hitching post, and came onto the porch. His limp was noticeable, but it was not bad. He grinned and clapped Jeff on his good shoulder. “Well, you managed to get yourself a free pass to Richmond, I see.”

“Pretty sorry way to get a pass, I’d say,” Jeff said. “What’s up with you, Tom?”

“I’ll be a messenger from now on. Don’t need two legs to ride a horse.” He took the chair beside Jeff, and once again Jeff told the story of the Battle of the Crater.

When he had finished, Tom said, “I’m glad you’re all right, Jeff. How’s the arm?”

“Oh, it’s a little stiff and hurts some, but the doctor said it’d be all right.”

“You’ve got a good nurse. I don’t know a better one than Eileen, and Leah’s a good helper.”

When Tom went inside to wash up, Leah came out onto the porch and sat on the steps close to Jeff. She looked up at him. “How does your arm feel?”

“Feels great!” Jeff said cheerfully. “As long as I don’t bang it or do anything with it.”

“I hope the war’s over by the time it gets well.”

“I doubt that it will be.”

Leah looked in the direction of Petersburg, where the boys had been, as if she could hear the guns. “It’s pretty bad in the trenches, isn’t it?”

Jeff did not answer for a moment, but then he nodded. “Pretty bad.”

“Do you think there’s any way we can win?”

Jeff looked down at his feet. “I don’t think so,” he said at last. “But we got to go on.”

“I wish the South would quit. I’d hate to see another man lost from the North
or
the South.”

Suddenly Jeff knew that was what he wished too, but he could not say so. That would appear disloyal. “Well,” he said, “it’ll be over one way or another pretty soon.”

Talking quietly, they watched the sun slowly descend.

Jeff said, “Sounds like if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Fremont, Pa wouldn’t have made it.”

“That’s right,” Leah agreed. “I think she saved his life. So many men have died in that hospital just from being overcrowded and not getting enough care.”

“Seems like he’s getting good enough care here.”

“Have you changed your mind about Eileen?” Leah asked. She studied his face.

Jeff lowered his head for a moment, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. “A fella can’t be mad at somebody who takes good care of his pa, maybe saves his life.”

Leah smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way. She’s really a fine woman.”

While Jeff and Leah talked on the front porch, Eileen was giving her patient a haircut. She had come in with a pair of scissors and without preamble said, “You’re getting your hair cut.”

Nelson struggled to a sitting position, and she helped him to a chair. When he was seated comfortably, she put a towel around his neck. Then, taking comb and scissors, she said, “Now, you be still, or I might cut your ears off!”

“Don’t see why I need a haircut. I’m not going to see anybody,” he protested.

“You’re going to see me, and I’m going to see you. I don’t want you looking like some kind of wild hillbilly!”

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