Words Heard in Silence (2 page)

"Are you hurt?"

"Ma’am?"

"I do believe you are deaf. I asked you a very simple question. Are you hurt?"

The Colonel glanced back over his shoulder, as if he were trying to see the wound. "It is nothing, Ma’am."

"Colonel, if it were nothing, you would not be bleeding through your coat. You should have your doctor look at it."

"My ‘‘doctor’ is little more than a boy, who should not be here to begin with and he has men out there with real wounds. This really is no more than a scratch. It would be unfair of me to take time away from a soldier who really needs him for something as minor as this. My batman will tend to it later."

"Come here and let me look at it."

"Ma’am?"

"I swear, you must have been stuffing good southern cotton in your ears." She took him by the arm and pulled him inside. He dragged his feet a little, pulling back and reminding Rebecca of a nanny goat. "Colonel, I do not bite. Come here and sit down."

She led the reluctant officer to a chair next to the table. "Take off your coat." Rebecca turned away long enough to get a bowl for water and a pitcher. When she returned, the man was still sitting with his gaze directed at his boots and he had not removed his jacket.

"Colonel. Please take off your uniform coat."

"Ma’am, I am fine, really I am." He started to get to his feet, but Rebecca was there with a gentle, but firm hand on his good shoulder.

"Sit, Colonel. You know as well as I do, that men die because of small, untreated wounds that go bad. Now would you want your men left to that Major of yours if something were to happen?"

"Un……I……well……"

"Take off your coat."

After a long, tense moment he began unbuttoning his tunic. Pulling it off, he folded it over his arms and then crossed them over his chest before taking a seat in the chair.

Rebecca watched his head droop even further as she walked around behind him. She grimaced, biting her lip as she got her first look at the wound he had called ‘‘minor’ and a ‘‘scratch’. It was old and infected. It had broken open and was oozing an ugly combination of puss and old blood. "Colonel, I am afraid this will hurt. I am sorry I have no whiskey to offer you."

"That is all right. I am not much of a whiskey drinker."

"I thought all Army officers were hard drinkers." She tried to make small talk as she pulled the dirty material away from the gash, hoping that it would distract this gentle man from the pain she knew she would cause.

"Not all of us, Ma’am. I prefer a tall brandy myself."

She smiled, thinking of the last time she herself had indulged in a fine after dinner brandy. Everything that she knew as her world was gone. Her parents, her brother, and her husband, all that Rebecca Gaines defined herself by had been cruelly stripped away. If she did survive the rest of the war, she would have to work hard to redefine herself and what she would want from her life in the future.

The soft hiss from her patient brought her back to her task. "I am sorry, Colonel. It must feel like I have the finesse of a field hand."

"Nonsense, Ma’am, your touch is as gentle as an angel."

"How?" She asked, trying to remove more of the dirty cloth, and dead and infected skin.

"It is war, Ma’am. You do not want to know."

"Colonel, if I did not want to know, I would not have asked."

"Last week we encountered a small band of renegade soldiers. I took a bayonet in the shoulder."

"A southern soldier did this to you?"

"No, Ma’am, the renegades were northern soldiers."

As gently as possible, Rebecca washed and cleaned the wound, stitching it very carefully with small sutures, then she sprinkled it with a dusting of healing powder before applying a clean bandage. "There, you are done. Now that was not too bad, was it?"

"Thank you, Ma’am. It feels better already."

"Your shirt needs mending. Take it off and I will wash and mend it for you."

"Ma’am?"

The blonde moved around in front of the Colonel and reached for the top button of his shirt. He moved from the chair so quickly he nearly knocked it over. As he took the time to keep it from clattering to the floor, Rebecca laid a hand on his arm.

"I know." She said quietly, giving the arm under her hand a gentle squeeze. "You do not have to be afraid."

The Colonel stopped, not quite believing what was being said.

"Now come on, Colonel. Let me have your shirt." The blonde moved slowly, closing the back door. "Your secret is safe with me."

"How did you know?"

She lifted her chin toward ‘‘his’ shirt. "I saw the bindings when I cleaned your wound."

His head dropped. "They……umm……they will either hang me or throw me in prison if you turn me in."

"I am not going to turn you in. I am going to wash and mend your shirt." Rebecca smiled. "You need the protection of the shirt so the bandage will not come loose. Besides, it is so warm out today you must be uncomfortable in your tunic. I will only take--"

"No, I mean why are you not going to report me?"

"I have done what I had to do to survive this war, Colonel, and I assume you have done the same. You are at least a real Colonel, are you not?"

Charlie laughed a little, starting to relax. "Yes Ma’am, I am. Colonel Charlie Redmond."

"Charlie is short for Charlotte right?"

He nodded again. "But my enlistment papers do not say that."

"I just bet they do not." The woman gestured at the Colonel’s shirt. "Take off that shirt. You are about my brother’s size; I will get you one of his."

Rebecca turned to make her way upstairs. Now she knew why the Colonel was being so kind. She moved into one of the old bedrooms. Most of the furniture was gone now, either sold to try and hold things together, or destroyed for firewood over the course of the last few years. She retrieved a shirt from a trunk, taking a moment to make sure it was in good repair and clean. Looking into the trunk she also fetched a pair of trousers.

The woman returned downstairs, but did not go to the kitchen. Instead, she went into the bathing room. She had been preparing a bath for herself when the Colonel had arrived. Rebecca placed the clothes and a towel on a bench next to the tub. She dipped her fingers in the water to make sure it was still warm enough for bathing and then returned to the doorway.

"Colonel, could you please come here? I am down the hall. Last door on the right."

She listened to the heavy footfalls on the wooden floorboards.
She certainly walks like a man, clomping through the house in heavy boots.
Rebecca turned when the steps stopped behind her. "I thought you might like a bath."

Charlie looked to the tub. The vision of a real bath and steaming water nearly did him in and he unconsciously licked his lips. His eyes traveled to his hostess. "That is very kind of you, Ma’am, but I could not impose."

"Colonel Redmond, I have taken the time to haul water and heat it up. The least you can do is show me the simple courtesy of using it."

Charlie could not hold the smile back any longer as he moved into the room. The thought of a hot bath with real soap and the luxury of being able to relax just a little was far too temping an offer to pass up. "Yes, Ma’am, it is the least I can do."

"And stop calling me Ma’am. I have a name, it is Rebecca, Rebecca Gaines."

"Rebecca? I like it."

"Well, that is good, because I do not intend to change it anytime soon, Colonel Redmond. Now get out of those dirty clothes and enjoy that water while it is still warm."

As the Colonel sat down to get ready for her bath, Rebecca pulled the shades to give her all the privacy she needed. Lighting a lamp, she placed it on a small stool next to the tub. She glanced up when she heard a groan. Moving across the room, she knelt in front of Charlie.

"You will rip those stitches. Let me."

"Thank you, Miss Rebecca."

As she removed Charlie’s boots, she grimaced at the sight of the officer’s feet. She was wearing torn foot coverings that revealed several large, infected blisters on her feet and ankles. "After your bath, I will tend to those too. Now enjoy that water. I will be back in a few minutes."

The Colonel watched as the young woman left the room. He sighed, and then began removing his clothes, a process that was also a very private ritual of transformation for Charlie. After everything, including the bindings he was forced to wear to make his masquerade convincing, had been removed, he settled down in the tub, moaning at the feeling of warm water covering his body. He knew he should be washing, but the urge to relax was far too great. He closed his eyes, sliding further into the water until his neck rested on the edge. As he relaxed in the tub, his mind wandered to his own sense of identity. He was not concerned that Rebecca had found him out because he knew he was Colonel Charlie Redmond. He had been living this lie for all of his adult life and to his conscious mind, there was no doubt. However, there was always that annoying little inner voice. The voice of the woman he had been so many years ago.

Charlie shut out the voice, and relaxed again, sinking further into the warm water.

When Rebecca returned she found Charlie sound asleep. As she looked at the woman in the tub, she realized how ragged and tired she really looked. She had great sympathy for this woman. She could not imagine fighting and being at war. Certainly, she knew how to fire a rifle, but the thought of taking aim and killing another human being made her just a bit sick at her stomach and she wondered what circumstances had forced this woman into such a life. She sat her mending kit on the pile of clothes, and then moved to the tub where she knelt down and wet a cloth, making sure to lather it liberally. "Colonel Redmond?" She whispered gently to coax the sleeping officer awake.

"Hmm?"

"Wake up, Colonel."

Her eyes opened slowly. Rebecca could see many years of sadness in them. "I am sorry, Miss Rebecca. The water just feels so good." The tall woman curled in on herself, trying to be modest in this most revealing of circumstances.

"I am sure it does. Lean forward, let me wash your back."

"Umm I am not sure……"

Rebecca smiled at the shyness, but she bit her lip in order to keep from laughing. "Nonsense, Colonel. Regardless of your position, you are still a woman and I am sure that nothing I see will be a great surprise, unless the good Lord was making a different style when he made you. Besides, you need to keep that wound clean."

Charlie leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees that had been pulled to her chest in an attempt at some modesty. She was in a truly awkward position. She thought of herself as a man, who should preserve the modesty of this gentle woman. She was a woman, who hid her gender from the world for very practical reasons of survival. In this moment, she was neither man nor woman, and both. She drew a deep breath, for this was new territory and potentially very dangerous. Only the gentleness of the woman behind her made it tolerable.

When Rebecca dropped her eyes to the expanse of skin before her, she did indeed find a great surprise. The Colonel’s back was covered with scars left by a sound thrashing by a whip. "What happened?" She asked as she ran her hand over the old scars.

"I took a beating many years ago."

"Why?"

"Someone was going to be beaten for something he did not do. They accused him of stealing food."

"And you said he did not do it?"

Charlie nodded.

"How did you know he did not?"

"Because I gave it to him. His family was starving and he just wanted a little food for them. I gave him the food and when he was accused of stealing it, I told them he had not. But my father said that someone had to pay for it, either the slave or me."

"So you took the beating for him?"

"He was a ten year old boy trying to feed his family. Anyway, it was a long time ago." She laid her forehead on her knees. Clearly, the subject was closed for now.

The thought that her own father had inflicted the scars on Charlie’s body touched Rebecca deeply. Carefully washing her back, tears stung her eyes. There was so much nobility in this person. As the lady watched the officer, she could see small hints of the toll all that nobility had taken on her body and soul.

Rebecca rinsed Charlie’s back then pulled her gently back so her neck was resting in her hand. "I will wash your hair."

"I can do that, Miss Rebecca. You have been so kind. I do not want to be a further burden to you."

"Let me." She whispered, moving closer to the tub. "Let me take care of you, Colonel Redmond. You need it, and you deserve it."

"I do not
deserve
anything, Miss Rebecca. I am just a soldier doing my job."

"You can tell yourself that all you want. You believe what you want, and I will believe what I want. I believe that you deserve it."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome." She answered sincerely as she poured water over Charlie’s head and lathered her scalp, giving it a good scrubbing. She was a little shocked at first when a single, deep moan escaped the Colonel’s chest. She felt her relax as she continued washing her hair. Soon she realized that Charlie was sound asleep once again. Carefully, she finished up, gently placing the woman’s neck back on the rim of the tub, allowing her to rest for what Rebecca was sure would be the first time in a long while.

Leaving the bathing room, she took the Colonel’s dirty clothes to the wet sink to give them a good scrubbing. Once that was done, the trousers where placed on the drying rack, while the shirt and the mending kit were taken to the parlor.