Let There Be Light (10 page)

Jenny’s lips were pulled into a thin line. “I’m glad I didn’t kill him, Chief, but on the other hand, he shouldn’t have robbed Emma, nor should he have slapped her. In my anger, I was only getting even for what he did to her.”

Wymore shrugged, rose to his feet, and stood over Myrna. “It was nice to have met you, Mrs. Linden. And I hope this war is over soon so your husband can come home.”

Myrna’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Chief Wymore. It was nice to have met you, too.”

Jenny walked the chief to the door, and as he stepped out onto the porch, he turned and smiled. “I’ll say this for you, little lady: if I was in trouble, I sure wouldn’t mind having you there to help me. Hickam won’t be able to hide the fact that he was foiled by a woman. It’s going to be in the newspapers. They’ll know about it at the prison before he gets back there. He’s going to have a tough time living it down.”

Jenny shrugged. “Ask me if I care.”

The chief rubbed the back of his neck. “Good-bye, Miss Linden.”

“Good-bye, Chief Wymore. Thanks for coming by.”

When Jenny entered the parlor and sat down on the sofa once more, Myrna said, “The chief is right, honey. You need to keep a check on that temper. You really shouldn’t have hit that robber in the head when he was already down and out.”

Jenny squared her jaw. “If he didn’t want his skull cracked, he should have stayed out of Henderson’s store.”

On Sunday morning at Memorial Hospital in Frederick, Maryland, Millie Ross spent a few minutes with Dr. Gary Medford—who had done Lieutenant Nathan Conrad’s surgery—then moved into the ward to begin her day’s work and headed straight for Conrad’s bed. As she drew up, she saw that he was awake.

He looked up at her, his eyes much clearer than they had been the day before. He managed a tiny smile. “Hello.”

“Hello yourself, Lieutenant. You’re looking a little better.”

“I feel a little better, ma’am.”

“Do you remember me?”

“Oh yes. You’re my main nurse on the day shift. You were so kind to me, and I really appreciate it.”

“Is your back hurting?”

“I have some pain, but it’s much better than yesterday. One of the night nurses gave me some more laudanum three or four hours ago.”

“You were so groggy from the morphine yesterday. I wasn’t sure if you would remember any part of it.”

Nate frowned. “I probably can’t remember a whole lot of it, but I do remember you and your kind bedside manner. However, there is one important thing I can’t seem to recall.”

“And that is?”

“Your name.”

Millie smiled. “I can tell you why you can’t recall it.”

“Yes?”

“I never told you it.”

“Oh. Well, a man should know his nurse’s name.”

“It’s Mildred Ross, Lieutenant.”

At that instant, Loretta appeared. “Well, Millie, I see our patient is awake and clear-eyed.”

“Yes,” said Millie, glancing at her then back at Nate. “Lieutenant Conrad surprises me. He remembers more from yesterday than I figured he would. And he’s feeling a little better.”

Loretta looked at the patient. “That’s good, Lieutenant. I’m glad there is improvement. Are you hungry?”

Nate nodded slowly. “I am.”

Loretta turned to Millie. “I’ll go get him some porridge and some coffee.”

“All right. In the meantime, I’ll check his bandages.”

Loretta hurried away.

Millie picked up his chart from where it hung at the end of the bed and glanced at it. “I see it was at 4:15 that you were given the laudanum. As soon as you’ve had your breakfast, Lieutenant, I’ll give you another dose. I’ll also check your temperature and your pulse at that time. Now, can you roll on your side so I can look at the bandages?”

“I think so.”

Millie helped him roll onto his side, found the bandages intact and that there was no excessive bleeding. She helped him roll onto his back once again and tucked the sheet and covers around him. “Everything is looking good.”

Not as good-looking as you
, he thought, then said aloud, “I’m glad for that. I remember how relieved I was when you told me yesterday that my spine wasn’t seriously damaged and that I would walk again.”

Millie smiled. “You amaze me, Lieutenant. I’m surprised that you recall so much. You really had a big dose of morphine for your surgery. Sometimes it totally fogs the mind for several hours.”

“Maybe it was because I had such a nice nurse.”

Millie’s face tinted. “You are so kind.”

There was a brief silence, then Nate said, “Miss Ross, is Frederick your home?”

“Yes. My parents are both deceased. I live in an apartment with two other nurses about my age.”

“So we’re both orphans. My parents are dead too.”

“I see. Lieutenant, I know from your chart that you are in the Seventh Pennsylvania Artillery Division. So I assume your home is in Pennsylvania.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where in Pennsylvania?”

“Harrisburg.”

“That’s in eastern Pennsylvania, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Little over a hundred miles due west of Philadelphia.”

She nodded, then reached to the end of the bed and picked up the chart. Looking at it, she said, “Lieutenant, I noted when I read this yesterday that Dr. Medford, who did your surgery, wrote here that you had both external and internal damage by the shrapnel, even though your spine was not damaged severely.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Well, with this in mind, I talked to Dr. Medford when I first arrived for work this morning and discussed it with him. He says that you will probably be five or six months in recuperation here at the hospital. It will depend on how well you heal whether you can return to active duty or not. As I’m sure you know, the army will muster you out if Dr. Medford deems you questionable for further combat.”

Nate let a slight grin capture his mouth. “Miss Ross, if you can be my main nurse for the recuperating time, I won’t mind at all if it
takes even six or seven months to get healed up.”

Millie smiled.

“Ah …”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“It
is
Miss Ross, isn’t it?”

She smiled again as she saw Loretta coming with a breakfast tray in her hands. “Yes, it is. Time for breakfast.”

In the days that followed, Millie Ross gave the wounded lieutenant the best of care and all the attention he wanted. In the process, they became better acquainted.

One day, after Millie had changed the bandage on Nate’s back—with Loretta’s help—Millie tucked the covers around him and said, “Lieutenant, your wound is healing well.”

Loretta was walking away, and Nate patted Millie’s hand affectionately. “Thank you, Miss Ross, for the excellent care you are giving me. If I had parents to write home to, I’d sure brag about you.”

“You are so kind.” She warmed him with a smile. “Lieutenant Conrad, I would like for you to drop the ‘Miss Ross,’ and just call me Millie.”

The smile had its effect on Nate, as well as the request to call her by her nickname. He gave her a lopsided grin. “All right, Millie. It’s a deal. That is, if you will drop the ‘Lieutenant Conrad’ and just call me Nate.”

Millie giggled. “All right, Nate, it’s a deal!”

He studied her eyes for a moment. “Millie?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Ah … ah … are you engaged or involved seriously with anyone?”

She locked her gaze with his. “I have a few men I date periodically, but no engagement, and nothing serious.”

The smile that spread over his face was more than she had seen up to that point. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Millie giggled again. “Well, that must mean that
you
aren’t engaged or serious about someone.”

“Right. Like you with the men, I have some lady friends up in Harrisburg I’ve dated periodically, but there’s nobody special.”

Millie tried to hide the relief she felt, but Nate picked up on it. Secretly, he felt a glow inside. He knew he was falling in love with Millie Ross, and there was reason to believe she was falling in love with him.

I
N
H
ARRISBURG
, P
ENNSYLVANIA
, on Friday morning, October 14, Jenny Linden was alone at the counter at Henderson’s General Store.

The lowering gray sky that Jenny had awakened to that morning was finally beginning to drop its heavy burden of icy rain. Through the large windows, she could see it pelting the dusty street and stripping the few remaining leaves from the skeletal trees in view. People were moving along the sidewalks, bending their heads against the wind-driven ice crystals.

Jenny had a fire going in the store’s potbellied stove and a pot of coffee brewing, which she would indulge in later.

A few customers had come and gone, and at the moment, there was one woman at the counter, whom Jenny was waiting on. Jenny saw Wiley Owens come in, carrying the day’s edition of the
Harrisburg Journal
. He brushed the icy rain from his face. “Hello, Jenny.”

Looking past her customer, Jenny smiled at Wiley and greeted him as he moved up to the empty stand at the end of the counter. He began removing the papers from a canvas bag which protected them from the rain.

Jenny’s customer picked up her paper sack, thanked her, and turned to leave.

“Thank you, Mrs. Burton,” said Jenny. “Come again.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, and hurried out the door.

Jenny turned to Wiley, who was stacking the papers on the stand. “I think this rain is going to turn to snow before long.”

He gave her a quick smile. “Probably will.”

“Wiley, is there more in today’s paper about the War?”

“’Fraid so. The front page is full of news about a bloody battle that took place near Rome, Georgia, two days ago.”

Jenny was about to ask Wiley if he knew what military units fought in the battle, but two customers came through the door, greeting her, and Wiley hurried out, giving her a wave.

Three more customers came in a moment later. While Jenny was waiting for the five customers to pick up their items and bring them to the counter, she glanced at the newspapers on the stand. She was eager to read about the battle, but told herself she would have to wait for a lull in business before she would be able to get to it.

More customers came in, brushing the ice crystals from their coats and hats while Jenny was taking care of the others. Soon there was a line of nearly a dozen people in front of the counter. Jenny was hastily tabulating bills and stuffing paper sacks in an effort to keep any of them from having to wait too long.

When a couple stepped away, her next customer was Max Akers, a bookkeeper at one of the local department stores. As he laid his items on the counter, Max smiled. “Nice to see you, Jenny. As you know, my wife usually does the grocery shopping, but she’s down with a cold, so here I am.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Susan is ill, Max. I hope she’ll get over the cold soon.”

“I’m sure she will. Jenny, I haven’t seen you since the robbery took place here. I want to commend you for what you did to help the police catch that escaped convict.” He leaned closer and grinned. “I’m glad you gave that Rufus Hickam an extra whack on the head, even when he was already out cold.”

Jenny smiled as she finished tabulating the small bill. “How do you know about that? The newspaper account didn’t report the extra whack.”

Max chuckled. “Oh, word gets around.” He leaned even closer. “Maybe you should have saved the taxpayers some money and given
him another good whack. I mean … a
really
good one.”

Jenny put the items in a paper sack and took Max’s money. As he thanked her and walked away, his words about a third whack went through her mind.
See there, Chief Wymore, not everybody agrees with your soft-touch philosophy
.

More customers came and went. Some bought the newspapers, along with other items they had come in to purchase. Finally, about eleven o’clock, the wintry rain was coming down hard, driven by stronger winds, causing the people of Harrisburg to seek sanctuary in their homes, and business in the general store trickled to a halt.

Giving a huge sigh of relief, Jenny straightened the pencils and work pads on the counter, then went to the big potbellied stove in the center of the store and tossed more logs on the fire. Using a poker, she stirred the flames. The fire flared up quickly, putting off a rosy glow and instantly warming up the area around it. The coffeepot was steaming.

Jenny poured herself a mug of the brew and carried it to the counter. She then went to the newspaper stand, picked up a paper, and returned to her spot behind the counter. The wind outside was now howling fiercely. She glanced out the windows while spreading the paper out before her, and saw that the icy rain was still pelting them hard. She could barely see anything on the street.

A shiver ran through her body. She turned, lifted her shawl from a hook on the wall, and draped it over her shoulders. She took a sip of the coffee, set the cup down, and put her attention on the front page of the paper.

She saw that on Wednesday, October 12, there was a battle on Coosaville Road, just outside the city of Rome, Georgia. The Union troops involved in the battle were under the command of General William T. Sherman, and the Confederate troops were under the command of General John Bell Hood.

Jenny noted the statistics. Reportedly, 114 Union soldiers were killed, 229 wounded, and 176 were missing or captured. On the Confederate side, 87 were killed, 137 wounded, and 43 were missing or captured.

As her eyes moved down the page, they suddenly bulged and her heart leaped in her chest when she read that the Third Pennsylvania
Cavalry Division had been involved in the battle. “Oh, Papa!” she said. “You’ve got to be all right! You just have to!”

At that moment, the door opened, and Zack and Emma Henderson came in, followed by two male customers, who were in conversation with Zack.

So entangled in her own thoughts and concern over what she had just read, Jenny was completely unaware of the people coming in until a draft from the open door ruffled the pages of the newspaper. When she lifted up her fear-filled eyes, Emma was first to notice. She removed her coat, shook the ice crystals from it, and hurried around behind the counter to the girl. Hanging the coat on a wall hook, she said, “Jenny, what’s wrong?”