Fire by Night (21 page)
She would tell him about his mistake tomorrow. They’d both had their fill of horror for one day. They found the remainder of their regiment and camped for the night, too shaken to speak of what they had just endured.
Phoebe couldn’t find a dry piece of ground anywhere to lie down on, much less pitch a tent. She and Ted huddled together in a grove of trees, wrapped in their canvas sheets, and tried to sleep sitting up. But even in the dim light of the campfire, she saw that his eyes remained wide open.
“You all right?” she asked softly.
“I don’t think I can kill any more people, Ike,” he said after a moment. “Did you see some of those dead bodies today, blown all to pieces? I don’t think I can point my gun at somebody and do that to them ever again.”
“The Rebels ain’t losing any sleep worrying about killing you,” she said. “They’ll shoot you in cold blood and it won’t bother them in the least. That’s what you gotta remember. You gotta shoot them before they shoot you.”
Ted was sitting close to Phoebe, and she felt a tremor shudder through him. “I admire you for not being scared today, Ike.”
“What are you talking about? I was scared out of my wits. Look at my hands, Ted. They’re still shaking.”
“You didn’t seem scared. I watched you. You just kept right on shooting. And when they gave the signal to advance, you went forward like you weren’t even afraid.”
“Well, I was. But I figured I’d better kill as many Rebels as I could before they got around to killing me.”
He shuddered again. “I don’t think I’m cut out for war. Maybe I should go back home.”
“How you figure on doing that? You signed up for three years, remember? They’ll shoot you for desertion if you take off. You want to face a firing squad?”
“That’s what it felt like today,” he said, hugging himself. “God in heaven, I could hear the bullets flying over my head. I saw Parker get hit, right beside me. His blood splattered all over me, and the bones of his leg were—”
“Stop it, Ted. It don’t help to think back on it.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “What are we doing here, anyway?” he said. “Why are we fighting?”
“The Rebels started it at Fort Sumter, and—”
“I signed up because I thought it would be fun and exciting to get away from home and see new places. Everybody said the war would be over in ninety days, and I didn’t want to miss out. But God help me, I’m so scared,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to die—and I don’t want to die, Ike. And I don’t want to end up like one of those poor souls with their legs blown off—”
“Ted, stop! I’m scared to die, too, but we gotta stop thinking about it.”
“I can’t,” he said softly. “Every time I close my eyes I see all those dead bodies, lying there in the mud.”
“I know.”
And every time they stopped talking, Phoebe could hear the distant cries and moans of the wounded. She knew exactly how Ted felt because she had been thinking the same thoughts. But unlike Ted, she could walk away from this war anytime without worrying about facing a Union firing squad. All she had to do was tell them that she was a woman.
“I haven’t done anything with my life, yet,” Ted said. “I want to find out what it’s like to really kiss a girl. I want to get married and have a family. What if I die and never get a chance to do that?”
She felt him trembling, rocking in place.
“Those men were all alive this morning,” he said. “Parker and all the others. … They were walking around, laughing, and now …Oh, God! I don’t want to die, Ike! Sweet Jesus, I don’t want to die!” He began to weep.
Without thinking, Phoebe drew Ted into her arms. They cried together for all that they’d seen on that terrible day and for all they would have to see in the days ahead.
She had no idea how long they stayed that way before Ted suddenly tore himself free and scrambled to his feet. A moment later, she heard him being sick in the bushes. Phoebe pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to stop her own tears and waited for him to return. It sounded like his insides were falling out.
She had helped her brothers butcher hogs every fall and was no stranger to blood. Skinning deer and gutting fish had never bothered her in the least. But the bloody, mutilated bodies she’d seen today had been living, breathing people a short while ago. The blood that had spilled was the same as hers—and she’d seen way too much of it, along with parts of a person’s insides that were never meant to be seen. Men shouldn’t have to die this horribly. Even her enemies.
She knew then that her brother Junior had been right—girls weren’t supposed to fight in wars. But she also knew that she could never leave. Ted Wilson needed her. And so Phoebe determined she would stay in this war and fight alongside him.
Julia dipped her sponge in the basin of water and wrung it out, then bathed Private Ellis Miller’s face and neck. His body shook with chills.
“That water is c-cold, ma’am.”
“I’m sorry, Ellis, but we need to bring your fever down. This is the only way.” She unbuttoned his nightshirt and sponged his chest the way Mrs. Nichols had instructed her. She had been embarrassed to do it at first, realizing at last why everyone was so opposed to hiring young, unmarried women as nurses. But she’d grown used to such duties in the weeks since the measles epidemic had begun.
“You sure this will make me better?” Ellis asked.
“It’s what the doctor ordered.” Julia couldn’t meet his gaze. Ellis’ skin was so hot she wondered why it didn’t turn the water into steam. His chest heaved beneath her hand as he labored to breathe. A sponge bath was not going to make him better.
Ellis Miller was nineteen years old, a farm boy from Ohio who had never been away from home before—nor had he been exposed to measles until the army had crammed him into a camp with masses of men from all over the country. He was a polite, gentle boy, and Julia longed to help him get well. Instead, he grew steadily worse. His fever soared and his lungs filled with fluid, until now he drifted in and out of delirium, coughing and fighting for every breath he took.
“S-seems like a waste to die this way, doesn’t it?” he said through chattering teeth. “I never fought a single Rebel. It’ll all be for n-nothing.”
Julia had wrestled with the same question as other innocent young men had died from measles and chicken pox over the last few weeks. But her job was to encourage and cheer her patients, not regale them with her own doubts and fears.
“You mustn’t think about dying, Ellis. Think about pleasant things. I’ll bet a nice young fellow like you has a girl waiting back home, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t have one.” He covered Julia’s hand with his own as she bathed his chest, and held it against his heart. “Will you be my girl, Julia? You’re the prettiest lady I ever saw.”
“You’re sweet, Ellis. If only I’d met you sooner …but I’m afraid you’re too late. I’m already married.” She squeezed his hand and then let go.
“Say, Julia,” the soldier in the next bed called out, “you promised to leave your husband and marry me, remember?”
“I did no such thing,” she said, smiling.
“She’s right,” someone else called. “Because she’s leaving her husband for me, not you. I was here first.”
“Tell me about this husband of yours,” a third man said. “I’ll bet I’m ten times the man he is.”
“I don’t know,” she said, laughing. “You’re only a private and he’s a lieutenant.” Julia was glad to see that they’d made young Ellis Miller smile, too. She was enjoying the good-natured banter when she suddenly heard Dr. McGrath’s stern voice.
“Mrs. Hoffman, may I see you for a moment?”
Julia buttoned Ellis’ shirt and pulled the covers up to his chin. Then she stood and followed the doctor out into the upstairs hallway, closing the wardroom door behind her.
The doctor absently combed his fingers through his auburn hair as he waited for her. His face wore its habitual, pain-pinched expression. Julia couldn’t understand why anyone would continue to drink alcohol when it made him feel so perpetually miserable. She thought Dr. McGrath would make a fine exhibit for the temperance movement. “
Private Miller has pneumonia,” he said abruptly. He glared at Julia as if it were her fault.
“I feared as much. What I can do?”
“Nothing. He’s going to die. Quite soon, I would expect.” He continued to stare at Julia. She waited. “Will you be able to handle it professionally when he does, Mrs. Hoffman?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you flirting with him in there just now. In fact, you flirt with all the men. They’re all falling in love with you, and you’re encouraging them.”
“I do not flirt! I have no interest in any of my patients other than seeing them get well. Besides, they’re only joking. They don’t mean anything by it. I thought a little good-natured fun would boost morale.”
He didn’t reply right away but studied her as if she were a scientific specimen. She resented his scrutiny.
“You’re very nai
ve for a married woman,” he finally said. “How long did you enjoy marital bliss before your officer-groom left you?I would guess that it wasn’t very long. You have no understanding of how a man reacts to a woman.”
Julia was momentarily speechless—and quite certain that her face had turned crimson. “Are we going to start sharing all the details of our marriages with each other?” she managed to say.“Because you once told me that your wife and daughter were none of my business.” Her words seemed to roll right off him.
“Perhaps I will have to tell you bluntly how men react—they simply look at someone like you and begin having impure thoughts.”
“That’s outrageous! I am dressed exactly as Miss Dix specified. Very plainly and modestly!”
“If we put you in a nun’s habit it wouldn’t stop their thoughts.”
He made a rude gesture to indicate her bosom, and Julia raised her hand to slap him. He caught her by the wrist, stopping her. “I think you will have to leave, Mrs. Hoffman.”
“Why? Because of how I look?” She jerked her wrist free from his grip, and the abrupt motion made several of her hairpins slip loose. Her hair began to fall free around her face. “You can’t send me away for that! Ask the matrons about my work. Ask the other nurses if they think I’m doing a good job.”
“It would be for your own good. To avoid a bad reputation. Some of these men are going to return to their camps raving about the pretty young nurse they fell in love with. Suppose word gets back to your beloved lieutenant, locked away in his dungeon prison? Will he be gracious and understanding about your behavior?”
Julia was so angry she could barely speak. “If I’m not doing a good job, if I’m a terrible nurse, then go ahead and fire me. But don’t give me all this pious nonsense about my reputation. That’s none of your business and neither is my ‘beloved lieutenant.”’
“If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d admit that this work isn’t what you thought it would be. I can see right through you, Mrs. Hoffman, and what I see is a spoiled little rich girl out to prove some ridiculous point. You weaseled out of your work in the linen room by hiring servants to do it, and I’m wondering how much longer you’ll keep changing sheets and giving sponge baths before you give up on that, too. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but it’s time for you to quit. Go home. You don’t belong here.”
“I will not quit!” Julia’s entire body trembled with rage. “You have absolutely no grounds to fire me, so you’re taking the coward’s way out by intimidating me and bullying me so that I’ll fall apart and leave. Well, it won’t work. I don’t care how miserably you treat me—the only way I’ll leave is if you order me to go.”
“And if Julia goes, we go, too.”
Julia turned at the sound of Mrs. Fowle’s voice. The matron stood in the hallway behind Julia with Mrs. Morris and Mrs. Nichols. They couldn’t have made a more formidable trio if they’d been armed with a cannon.
“We’re tired of losing good nurses to your bad temper, Dr. McGrath,” Mrs. Fowle said. “We need Julia’s help. She is an excellent nurse.”
Dr. McGrath folded his arms across his chest. “I see. Is this how it’s going to be? Mutiny at Fairfield Hospital?”
Julia was stunned to see a fleeting look of pain cloud his eyes, as if it had hurt him to find himself standing alone, despised by everyone. Then it vanished, and he was his usual cocky self again. “How much is she paying all of you to stand up for her?”
The accusation was so absurd that the women could only stare at him in disbelief. In the stunned silence, Julia heard the telltale groan of the front door opening. Then, a moment later, a man called, “Hello…? Is anyone here?”
Julia knew that voice. It was Congressman Rhodes. Fear tingled through her. Before any of the others could react, she hurried down the stairs to greet him, knowing that if he talked to anyone, if he asked for “Miss” Hoffman and gave away her lie, Dr. McGrath would fire her on the spot.
“Why, Congressman Rhodes, it
is
you,” she said, forcing a smile.“I thought I recognized your voice.”
“Julia, my dear. You look …quite …well.” His lie was obvious. He had reacted too slowly to disguise his shock at seeing her. And Julia knew she looked shocking. Her dress was water-spotted, her hair was falling down, and she was certain that her face still bore the unmistakable stain of anger.
