Fire by Night (56 page)
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” he asked. “I just came by to see how you and Phoebe are doing.”
Julia sat up, her heart racing at the sight of him. “I’m all right. So is Phoebe. She finally stopped shaking a little while ago and went to be with Ted.”
“That’s good. I brought my bag,” he said, raising it slightly. “I …um …I thought you might need some laudanum to help you sleep tonight.” He was frowning, as if a bright light were shining inside the tent. She wondered if he had a migraine headache.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll be all right,” she replied.
James exhaled. “Julia, I know this is none of my business, and I have no right to tell you what to do …but I think you should go home.”
She saw the deep concern in his eyes and the same tenderness that she had seen in them this afternoon when she’d first awakened and found him holding her. She remembered how he’d warned her to go home a long time ago when they were still in Washington. How he’d tried to explain the way in which men like Otis Whitney might react to her. He had been right, and she was ashamed for not listening to him sooner.
“I know I should go,” she said, looking away. “The other nurses …the Commission director …they’re all telling me the same thing.”
“So …you’re leaving?” he asked softly.
She nodded.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and in the silence she heard a wagon rumbling up the road between the tents, stopping out front.
“Julia, I …there’s so much I want to tell you,” James said. “I don’t know how to say this …where to begin…”
She looked up at him and felt her heart constrict. James was in love with her. She could read it on his face, see it in his eyes. And she loved him. She had never meant for that to happen. James was a married man, a father. He had tried so hard to push her away, but she had stubbornly returned to work with him, time after time, tempting him. This was all her fault.
“No, James. Don’t say it,” she begged—even as another part of her longed to hold him in her arms again, to let herself love him in return.
She heard voices outside, horses. Then another, taller figure appeared in the doorway behind James. The setting sun lit a halo of golden hair. Nathaniel.
“Julia?” he called. “May I come in?” He pushed past James and ducked inside the tent without waiting for her to reply. “Julia,” he whispered. “Oh, thank God, thank God! You’re okay. You’re all right!” He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, holding her, crushing her to himself. She felt his tears in her hair.
“I’m so sorry, Nathaniel. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have come. I—”
“Shh …shh. It doesn’t matter now. As long as you’re all right.”
“Otis didn’t hurt me.”
“Thank God,” he breathed.
“I’m going home,” she told him. “As soon as all the arrangements can be made.”
“I’m so glad.” His arms tightened around her. Then he released her and held her away from himself, gazing down at her. “Julia, it took this tragedy to bring me to my senses. I don’t want to lose you. And I still want very much to marry you …if you’re willing.”
She couldn’t see past him to see if James was still standing in the doorway, but she knew somehow that he wasn’t. She could scarcely believe that it was true—that Nathaniel still loved her, still wanted to marry her.
“Of course,” she said. “Of course I’m willing.” Julia leaned against him and cried, but not all of her tears were tears of joy.
“You did what you had to do,” Ted said when Phoebe finished telling him the story. “You warned him, offered him a way out, but he left you no choice.”
“I seen a lot of dead men these past few years,” she said with a shudder. “But I never stood next to one that I killed myself.”
“Ike,” he said quietly. “Let it go. Forgive yourself …and let it go.” The words rattled hoarsely in his throat. Phoebe hadn’t wanted to admit the truth before, but she could no longer ignore the fact that Ted’s lungs were filling with fluid. She’d seen it with countless other soldiers. He was coming down with pneumonia. She felt his brow—it was burning hot.
“I’m going to go get some cold water,” she said, standing. “I need to bring your fever down.”
He caught her wrist, stopping her. “Let me sleep awhile.”
“No, you got to fight this, Ted …please!”
He nodded and tried to grin. “Okay …I’ll fight …after I sleep.”
Suddenly Phoebe heard running footsteps. They stopped outside. She looked up. Otis Whitney stood in the doorway of the tent—except it couldn’t be Otis. He was dead. She had seen his lifeless body with her own two eyes.
The man took a step toward her. He held a pistol in his grip. As if in a dream, Phoebe watched him slowly raise it and aim it at her.
“You killed my brother!”
She heard Ted cry, “Look out!” and he sprang up from his bed somehow, his arms encircling Phoebe as he dove sideways, knocking her to the ground. At the same instant she heard a gunshot.
Phoebe lay on the ground, dazed, for a long moment. She was vaguely aware of a scuffle taking place, of someone shouting, “Grab him! Grab that man!”
Ted’s body felt oddly heavy on top of hers—a dead weight. He was trying to draw a breath in a long, painful gasp. She wrapped her arms around him. His back was wet and slippery with warm blood.
“No!” she cried. “No, please. … ”
Slowly, carefully, she sat up, gently rolling Ted sideways to cradle him in her arms. She caressed his face, his curly hair, her hands stained with his blood.
“Why, Ted? Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot?”
He looked up at her for the last time and whispered, “You’re my best friend, Ike. … ”
Phoebe gazed out of Julia’s bedroom window, watching the carriages roll by in the street below. The trees that lined the boulevard blazed with color, but to Phoebe there was something very sad about them. Their leaves would soon fall to the ground and blow away on the wind, leaving them stark and bare. And deep inside she longed to drift away on the wind along with the leaves.
“Are you ready to go?” Julia asked, moving to stand beside her.
“Would you be mad at me if I stayed here instead of going to the tea?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just that…” Phoebe sighed. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Julia. You been so good to me these past three months, buying me pretty dresses, opening your home to me, taking me places. … But I don’t belong here. This ain’t my life, and I’m never gonna fit in.”
Julia moved away and sat down at her little dressing table, her back to the mirror. “I don’t think I belong here, either. This feels like such a vain, meaningless life to me.”
“That ain’t what I meant. You and your family do a lot of good things for people, and you’re very generous with your money. But I didn’t grow up rich, living in a fancy house like this, and I ain’t never gonna fit in. I don’t talk proper, I’m scared to death to move around in these hoop skirts for fear I’ll knock something over and break it. And I just can’t get used to people doing stuff for me that I can do for myself—helping me get dressed, combing my hair, making my bed. Your servants do just about everything but feed me. I ain’t an invalid.”
“I know. I don’t like it, either. I wish…” Julia sighed. “I don’t even know what I wish for anymore.”
Phoebe felt sorry for her friend. Most people would see Julia’s fancy life and envy her. Phoebe might have envied her, too, in the past. But now she understood why Julia felt so unhappy, why she longed to do something useful.
“Are you girls ready?” Mrs. Hoffman asked, sweeping into the room. “Our carriage is out front.”
“We’ve decided not to go,” Julia said. “Please give Mrs. Rogers our regrets.”
“You can’t do that. She’s expecting you—both of you. Now please hurry. We’re already running late.”
“Neither of us feels up to this ordeal,” Julia said.
“It isn’t an ‘ordeal,’ it’s a tea, for goodness’ sake. Besides, Mrs. Rogers is a very influential member of our church. You’ll need her good will, for Nathaniel’s sake.”
“But I don’t feel like going.”
Mrs. Hoffman waved impatiently. “It doesn’t matter if you feel like it or not. Nathaniel’s career and his best interests always take priority over your own wishes. You’re a reflection of him.”
“No, I’m not. I’m
me
!”
Mrs. Hoffman stared at her daughter as if she’d lost her mind. “You’d better get over that ridiculous notion before he puts his wedding ring on your finger or you’ll ruin his chances for a decent career in the ministry. You’re not allowed to be Julia Hoffman once you become Mrs. Nathaniel Greene. Why do you think you give up your name and take your husband’s? It’s more than a symbol— it’s a fact of life.”
“I don’t want to have this discussion right now,” Julia said.
“Good. Then get your coat and let’s go.” She swept from the room again, an army commander leading her troops into battle.
“The invitation to tea included your name, Phoebe,” Julia said after a moment. “They want you to come.”
“Yeah, so they can stare. I see the way everybody looks at me, like I’m odd—because I am. Even your folks don’t know what to make of me. Your ma’s been real good to me, but I think she’s a little scared of me, to tell you the truth—like she’s worried I’ll put a bullet between someone else’s eyes if I get riled up.”
“She’s very grateful to you for saving my life.”
“I know. She’s told me a hundred times. But none of the other ladies who’ll be at the tea this afternoon ever killed a man. They never even met a killer face-to-face before. They all look at me like they can’t forget the killing part, even if it was to save you.”
“I understand, believe me. For the rest of my life I’ll always be ‘the girl who was nearly raped.’ Most people secretly believe I deserved it for running off to be a nurse in the first place.”
“Maybe they think that now, but their tongues will stop wagging sooner or later. Especially after you marry Reverend Greene. You’re one of them, you belong here—I don’t. You know that it’s true, Julia. I think it’s time I moved on.”
“I know that you’re my friend. And that I’ll miss you terribly if you leave.”
“I’ll miss you, too. But I have to go. There’s something I got to do. I promised Ted I’d bring all his things to his mother, after…” Grief welled up inside Phoebe, as forcefully as if Ted had died that morning. She sank down on the edge of her bed and picked up his knapsack, which she always kept nearby. She lifted it onto her lap, hugging it, resting her cheek against it.
“I been wanting to hang on to all his things because …because they remind me of him. I look at his frypan or his silly old bottles of tonic, and I remember—” She couldn’t finish. She wiped her tears as they fell. “His shirts still smell like him.”
“Then you’re not ready yet, Phoebe. It isn’t time to give his things away.”
She looked up at Julia. “Is it wrong to remember a man who isn’t yours and never was, a man you’ll never see again?”
An odd look crossed Julia’s face. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m the wrong person to ask that question. We can’t stop our memories any more than we can stop falling in love with someone. … But Ted did love you, Phoebe. He gave his life for you.”
“He told me to make each day count. And I ain’t living like that.” She swiped impatiently at her tears. “I have to stop remembering and move on, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to as long as I keep hanging on to his stuff. I need to give it all back, Julia. And I need to go see where he’s buried. Otherwise I’ll just be stuck in the same rut in the road all my life. It’s time I went to see Ted’s mother to give her these things—like I promised.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks for offering, but I don’t think you should run away again.”
“I’m not running away, I just want to keep you company so you won’t have to travel alone.”
“No …you’re unhappy here, and this would be a good excuse for you to run off again. I been traveling alone most of my life. Ain’t nothing new for me. But this is your home. You don’t feel like you fit in yet because you haven’t been home long enough to get used to this life again. But you will—if you don’t keep running away from it. You were born into this.”
“I wish I hadn’t been.”
“Don’t you want to marry Reverend Greene and settle down here with him?”
A look of panic crossed Julia’s face. She shivered like a cornered rabbit. “I don’t know, Phoebe. I don’t know if I want to marry him or not. It scares me to think of him swallowing up my life the way Mother just described. Nathaniel knows exactly how he wants his wife to act and what she should say and do every moment, and I don’t know if I can live up to his standards. Or if I even want to anymore. I don’t know if I love him or not.”
Phoebe felt another wave of pity for her friend. “You’ll figure it out, in time. Just like it took me a while to figure out what I got to do next.”
Julia’s maid suddenly appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Mrs. Hoffman says to see what’s taking you so long. She’s about to lose her temper, she says.”
“Tell her we’ll be there in a minute.” Julia sat very still for a moment as if composing herself, then turned to Phoebe again. “What will you do after you see Ted’s mother? Where will you go?”