Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (8 page)

“I know it’s a long ride,” he interrupted, clamping his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of understanding. “And that is precisely why I asked you to come to my office today. Mrs. Sims and I have been worrying about you having to make that ride every day.”

He perched on the edge of his desk, folding his arms across his vested chest. She stared at him quizzically, and he went on to say that now, while the days were getting longer, there was probably enough daylight for her to make the trip home without having to ride in darkness. “But take this evening, for instance,” he waved toward the window and the gathering twilight beyond. “See how late you have stayed again? Your students left hours ago.”

“There was a very sick patient,” she explained quickly. “He asked me to sit with him, and I couldn’t refuse.”

“Ahh, but you do so much of that, don’t you?” He wagged his finger at her. “You go beyond the call of duty, Kitty, which is admirable, but not when you have such a long way to ride at the end of the day. And let’s be realistic. It is not that safe for a lady to be out on the country roads alone.”

“Then you want me to leave the hospital earlier,” she shrugged. “All right, I will try. Now if I may bid you good evening, I’ll just get started on that long ride.”

She had started to rise, but he motioned for her to remain seated as he rushed on. “No, that is not why I called you here. Mrs. Sims and I have discussed it, and we would like to offer you room and board in our home, so that you can remain in Goldsboro and not have to make that trip every night and every morning. There will be no charge. It’s our way of expressing our appreciation for all the fine work you do here, because we both realize that you don’t get paid nearly enough for your services, and—”

“Wait a minute, Doctor.” Kitty held up her hands in a halting gesture. “It is wonderful for you and your wife to make the offer, and I really appreciate your kindness, but please remember that I have a son, and it’s hard enough not being with him during the day. I certainly can’t give up what little time I have with him at night.”

He nodded. “I know, Kitty. I understand how you feel, but I’m sure Mrs. Glass would be glad to keep him overnight, and you will still have the weekends.”

“No. Absolutely not.” She got to her feet this time. “I won’t leave my son with Mattie all week. Perhaps I should not have taken this job, but my husband is away for a spell, and I have no choice but to work and make whatever I can to keep John and me fed and clothed. It’s hard, but when Travis returns, we can get our lives back in order.”

She saw the sympathetic look in his eyes and knew that he, like so many others, did not believe Travis would come back.

“I thank you for your kind offer and your concern, Dr. Sims.” She nodded and then backed toward the door. “And please tell Mrs. Sims of my appreciation. But I can’t accept. I’ll just try to leave earlier each day. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

She fled the room, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. There was no way she was going to leave John all day and all night, too. It was ridiculous even to think of such a thing. Besides, she was not afraid of the ride, even after dark.

She was almost out the front doorway when one of the nurses called out to her. “Mrs. Coltrane, may I speak with you, please?”

Kitty sighed and turned to face the anxious-looking woman.

“Mr. Wallace, the one they operated on this morning, he’s not doing so well,” she said, out of breath. “I was afraid I would miss you. He’s asking for you. I know it’s late, but if you could just speak to him, maybe calm him down. The other nurses have tried, but we just can’t handle him.”

Kitty did not hesitate. Following the woman up the stairs, all the way to the third floor, she rationalized that it was no wonder the nurses could not handle Frank Wallace. Probably not a single one of them had ever witnessed an amputation, much less helped to care for someone after such an operation. None of them had worked during the war. They were to be commended for wanting to help the sick, but they were going to have to learn to stomach all kinds of repulsive situations.

Frank Wallace lay on his back, moaning. His eyes were open and glassy with pain. The white sheet covering the stump of his left leg was splotched with blood.

“Dr. Batson just checked him and gave him some morphine, so there’s nothing we can do,” the woman clucked nervously.

“You can change his dressing,” Kitty snapped, hating herself for sounding so waspish but unable to stop herself.

The woman stiffened. “We did that, too. Not a half hour ago.”

“Then do it again, please.” Kitty moved to the side of the bed. Reaching out, she touched the man’s forehead with her fingertips. “Frank? It’s Kitty. Have you been asking for me?” she whispered.

With surprising strength, he lifted his hand to wrap clammy fingers about her wrist. “Kitty, thank God you came.” His voice was weak, barely audible. “I always feel better when you’re here.”

“Well, I’m going to sit with you till you fall asleep, Frank.” She pulled her hand back, placing his across his chest, then tucked the sheet up under his chin. Some of the glassiness had left his eyes, and he looked up at her gratefully. Picking up a nearby chair, she set it down next to his bed.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” he asked hopefully.

She leaned over so he could see what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Frank, you are going to feel so much better after a good night’s sleep that it won’t matter whether I’m here or not. And you know I have a little boy. He’ll be wondering where his mommy is. So you just lie there and try to go to sleep.”

“…took my leg off,” he choked out the words, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. “…said I’d rather die than let ’em cut it off, and I would. Ain’t no man now.”

Kitty’s tone was stern. “Frank, if you are going to talk nonsense, I won’t stay here with you. Now, you aren’t the first soldier to lose a leg so long after the war, and you won’t be the last. There are a lot of wounded soldiers with bullets in them that will sooner or later fester and give them trouble. Don’t you talk about wanting to die, and don’t let me hear you say again that you aren’t a man. You are very much a man, and I’m proud of you.”

She stopped talking, leaned forward once more, then sighed with relief to see that he had already fallen asleep. The morphine, combined with a few words of comfort from a friend, had done the job.

The nurse was awed. “You have such a way with the patients, Mrs. Coltrane. It’s a touch the rest of us just don’t have, I’m afraid.”

Kitty wearily got to her feet. “It isn’t a touch. It’s simply a matter of letting them know that someone else cares.” With a gesture to the soiled sheet, she said, “Please change that. It won’t help him any to wake up and see all that blood.”

By the time she left the building and went to the shed in back where the mare was kept, darkness had descended. Slipping on the mare’s bridle and saddle, she mounted and moved out toward the street.

Riding through town was not too bad. There were street lamps to show the way, and, as always, passing the stores and houses conjured up memories, some good, some bad. Danton’s Dry Goods Store made Kitty frown. She passed the darkened windows. Jerome Danton owned half of Goldsboro and most of the land surrounding, but Kitty felt no envy. She only wished she never had to see him or his shrewish wife ever again.

There was no moon, for the storm clouds had gathered in the night sky to make the world seem even darker. Now and then a zigzag flash of lightning would streak across the sky, showing the road ahead only briefly as the mare moved into the countryside. A warm wind blew briskly, rattling the leaves overhead, creating an eerie sound. Kitty gave the mare her lead, allowing her to set her own pace lest she stumble and fall in haste, though Lord, she wanted to get home.

Kitty’s head began to nod. How wonderful it would be to climb into bed right then. She admonished herself for being so late. John would be asleep by the time she reached Mattie’s, and Mattie would insist that he stay overnight, pointing out the foolishness of taking him home only to return early the next morning. But Kitty had to be with him, if only for a short while.

Travis. How she missed him, and prayed he missed her just as much. If only things had turned out differently.

A drop of rain splashed her nose, and that was the only warning before the sky opened, unleashing a downpour. In only moments she was drenched to the skin, and there was no shelter in sight. The rain, the increasing bolts of lightning, and the rolls of thunder were all making the mare skittish.

The sky exploded with a yellow-white flash, and suddenly the bridge was visible. Soon the sound of the mare’s hooves striking the wooden planks was barely audible above the sound of the angry, rushing waters of the Neuse River. They moved into the deep, swampy area on the other side of the bridge. Kitty’s nerves were taut. She knew the mare could be mired in water in this lowland at any time.

Then lightning lit the sky once more, and she saw what she had been looking for, the old log cabin that had once belonged to the Orville Shaw family. It had never been much of a place, rotting even when it was lived in. Now, abandoned, it was all but falling apart, but it would give them shelter.

“This way, girl.” Kitty reined the mare to the right slowly, hoping the horse could make her way around the decaying stumps littering the yard without much trouble. “We’ll be out of all this in just a few more minutes. I’m going to take you right inside with me, and we’ll wait this out if it takes all night.”

The mare reached the porch and Kitty dismounted, leading her inside slowly, fearful that the roof might come crashing down around them at any moment. The storm made what was left of the cabin tremble and quake, but mercifully, the inside was dry.

Finding a nail in the wall, Kitty looped the reins around it, then sank down gratefully on the rough wood floor.

Being there brought back memories of Andy Shaw. Of all Ruth and Orville’s children, Andy had been her favorite. His hair was a fiery red, and despite the family’s poverty and his father’s drunkenness, Andy’s freckled face was always smiling.

Pain stabbed her as it all came flooding back again. Andy had gone off to fight for the South, but had eventually pledged his allegiance to the North, more because of his fierce devotion to Travis than anything else, or so Kitty suspected. And it was in Travis’ arms that Andy had died after being wounded at the Battle of Lookout Mountain. Sam had been there, and Poppa, too. Andy had died bravely, Travis told her, like a man, even though he had really been only a boy.

She winced, thinking of his father, Orville. A meaner man than Orville Shaw had never lived, unless it was Luke Tate. Luke, once overseer for Nathan’s family, had been fired for attacking Kitty. In revenge, he had taken Kitty away with him and his vicious band of men. Orville Shaw had been part of that band. They had gone to the mountains of North Carolina, in the dead of winter, Luke feeling safe along that western Virginia—North Carolina border. That region of both states was against the war and it was open country. Luke and his men plundered, dressing as Confederates when they wanted to steal from Union sympathizers and as Yankees when they wanted to steal from Southerners. Luke seemed at ease where loyalties divided people.

It was on one of their plundering raids that Orville Shaw had been shot. Luke had brought him back to the cabin and ordered her to treat the injury. The bones of his elbow had been splintered, and she knew from all Doc Musgrave had taught her that there was nothing to do but amputate. She had never done an amputation before, and had never seen one done without anesthesia. But she remembered everything Doc had told her, and she performed the surgery, calling on her memory and God to help her.

Later she went outside for water and just kept right on going, even at the risk of freezing to death, for she wanted only to escape Luke and his evil. But he had come after her, had been about to ravish her right there in the snow, when suddenly the Yankees arrived.

A smile lit her face as she remembered looking up into the coldest eyes she had ever seen. They were the color of steel, not blue or black, but a gray luster in between. The man’s hair was shining black, the color of a raven’s wing, and despite the anger on his face, he was quite handsome.

She had thrown herself on his chest in desperation, beating at him with her fists as she told him she had to go back home to care for her mother, to help her people.

He had ignored her pleas, staring down at her with those damn shining eyes. Then he had whispered, “You’re beautiful. I can see why a man would hold you his prisoner if he couldn’t keep you in his bed any other way.”

She had exploded with anger, furious over the way his eyes raked over her body. He knew she wanted him to kiss her. “I demand you take me home,” she had screamed at him.

And he had quietly whispered, “Miss Wright, I don’t think you understand. You see, I’m Captain Coltrane of the
Union
Army, and you are now
my
prisoner.”

Kitty laughed softly, sitting there in the decaying cabin. That was how she had met Travis. At the time, she felt it was only the continuation of her nightmare. But while there had been anger and rage, there had also been sweetness and passion. Fire and passion. Man and woman. Desire and love mixed with hatred. No, she would never tell John of this private world she had shared with his father. She only prayed that one day she would know the same joy, the same all-consuming love.