Ashes in the Wind (8 page)

M
AJOR
Magruder was waiting for Cole at the head of the stairs, his hands clenched behind his back and his legs braced wide apart. It was obvious he had been watching. “Quite a bit of fluff you’ve picked up there, Captain Latimer.”

“Miss Craighugh,” Cole informed him and raised an eyebrow at the man’s apparent curiosity.

“A Southern wench, I presume.”

“Wench, hardly! Southern, yes. Al’s cousin, and I would be more selective in what is chosen for adjectives when the lad is within hearing. He has a way of setting one back on his heels.” Cole smiled at the idea of the short, rather heavyset major nose to nose with the small, wiry Al.

“Humph!” Magruder said. “Uppity little beggar for tidewater trash.”

“Not tidewater trash, Major,” Cole corrected. “He comes from a farm upriver somewhere. Lost his parents in the war.”

“You’re quick to defend the rebels,” the major sneered. “Next thing, you’ll be feeling sorry for Lee.”

Cole faced the major squarely. “I sympathize with all men when they are hurting. It is for that reason I became a doctor. And I consider my oath most sacred.”

“Humph!” Magruder said again and followed Cole into the day room where the younger man poured water into a basin and began to scrub his hands. “You should get some combat experience, son.” He dampened his own hands from the ewer and ran wet fingers through his graying hair while considering himself in the mirror. “Fourteen years I’ve spent in the military. Went with the army down to Mexico. Eight years a lieutenant.” He glanced aside at Cole’s rank. “And here you are a captain after two.” He leaned against the commode and folded his arms as if he were about to impart some vital wisdom to his junior. “Your fancy oaths won’t do you much good in the heat of battle with men falling all around you. You pick the ones you can do some good for, and ethics be damned. You give a swig of laudanum to the rest and put ’em in the shade. If they’re still alive when you get back to them, then you try to patch them up.”

Cole shook his head in rejection of the advice. He was aware of his own lack of experience in the field but held strong doubts that he would accept such a callous attitude should the event present itself.

Magruder straightened. “I was looking for you to invite you to join us.” When the captain glanced up in mild surprise, the major shrugged. “It was Mitchell’s suggestion, not mine. The rest of the doctors are going to Sazerac’s for a bit of celebration. You’ve heard of the Confederate defeat at Broad Run, haven’t you?”

“Defeat? Humph! I’ve also heard of Old Rosey’s at Chickamauga—what would you call it—tactical retreat?”

“We only celebrate the victories.” The major sniffed. “Before this war is over we’ll pay those damned rebs back tenfold.”

“Only one thing is certain now.” Cole spoke through his hands as he splashed water on his face. “Whichever side wins, there’s a lot more bloodshed to come.”

“Squeamish, Captain?” Magruder smirked, raising a brow.

Cole reached for a towel. “No, Major. I just see it as a damned waste, that’s all.”

“Then you refuse to celebrate with us?” Magruder waited much like a hawk for the captain’s answer.

“Right now, I’m going to take the blinded boy into surgery and see what I can do for him. Then, if there’s anything left of the evening, I plan to join Miss Craighugh and her parents for dinner.”

“You’re wasting your time on that boy,” Magruder chided. “He’ll be gone before another day is out. You might as well leave early and enjoy the lady’s company.”

Cole hung the towel and took out a fresh smock. “Be that as it may, Major, I am still committed to my oath. The least I can do is try.”

“Suit yourself, Captain, but you’ll only cause him more misery before he dies. Besides, it’s a task requiring at least two doctors—”

An orderly pushed open the door. “We got the last one in the surgery room, Cap’n, and the chloro’ is started.”

Cole nodded and turned to Magruder as the door swung shut. “Doctor Brooks has already agreed to assist.”

“Brooks! That old rebel? You’ll have to watch him close. He’s more likely to slit the boy’s throat.”

“He took the same oath I did.” Cole’s voice was firm. “And he takes it every bit as seriously as I do.” He rested a hand on the door knob and continued thoughtfully, “He’s not a rebel, you know. In fact, he lost quite a few friends when he spoke out against seccession.” He opened the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Major, I have to get on with it.”

Magruder followed him out in a less than pleasant mood. It always aggravated him when the young fools wouldn’t listen to his advice. He caught sight of the cleaning boy through the doorway to the surgery ward, a wet rag in his hand and a worried frown on his skinny face. It sharpened Magruder’s irritation to know that good Union dollars were supporting the irresponsibility of the filthy little brat. “Get on with your work,” Magruder ordered gruffly. “You’ve had enough lagging for one day.”

Cole glanced over his shoulder at the frowning man and resisted snapping back a retort. To Al’s questioning gaze, he jerked his head, and the slim lad went hurrying off.

“You seem to have a penchant for picking up lost strays,” Magruder smirked. “From now on, resist the temptation to bring them among us. That little beggar’s not to be trusted.”

Cole smiled benevolently. “I don’t know about that, Major. I’ve never had any qualms about turning my back on him.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t do much damage if he tried. He’s hardly bigger than a mite.”

“Hah!” Magruder scoffed. “The little ones do the most damage. Hit you where it hurts.”

Cole laughed at the other’s unintended humor. “I shall keep that in mind, Major.”

Nearly three hours passed before the stretcher bearing the blinded soldier was carried from the operating ward. “Be careful,” Cole warned the orderlies. “He has more stitches than a quilt and is far more delicate.”

Doctor Brooks dried his hands on a towel. “Do you think you got everything?”

Cole sighed and dragged off his bloody smock. “We’ll know soon enough. At this point, we can only hope and pray that peritonitis doesn’t set in.”

“ ‘Twas the boy’s good fortune you were here to tend him. I’ve seen less gifted and less patient doctors in my time.”

Cole shrugged away the compliment. “If you’re going to make the effort, you might as well do the best you can.”

Doctor Brooks pulled out his watch and noted the time. “Nearly six. I’ll give a last check about the ward upstairs and then go fetch some vittles. I don’t suppose a young man like yourself would care to join an old fool for supper.”

“I’ve already promised this evening to a young lady,” Cole smiled.

Brooks chuckled. “She’ll be much better company for you than I.” The old man approached the stairs, then paused, half turning. “That cleaning boy I’ve seen flitting around here—you’re not of a mind to share him, are you?”

“You mean Al?”

“I don’t know his name. Don’t even know what
he looks like. Every time I pass through the hospital, he’s on all fours scrubbing floors. If there’s any part of him I could recognize, it’s his hind end.”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll think about it,” Cole assured the man.

The older doctor nodded understandingly. “Well, if you should decide in favor if it, bring him up.”

When Cole left the hospital and came around to untether his roan, he found Al perched on the hitching rail. The captain raised a wondering brow at the lad. “I thought you’d be gone by now. What are you doing here this late?” Cole glanced over the back of the horses tied to the rail. “Where’s that nag you call a horse? Don’t tell me he threw you off his scrawny back.”

“Ain’t got him today.” The answer was short as Alaina broke pieces from a twig and tossed them into the dust. “Roberta took the carriage, and Uncle Angus had to hitch up Ol’ Tar for hisself.”

“So you’re left to find your own way back.”

“Ain’t as bad as that. I was gonna catch the next streetcar over to the store. Uncle Angus should still be there.”

“And if he’s not?” Cole peered at the lad questioningly.

“I didn’t come here to beg no ride from you!” Alaina hotly declared, just in case the captain was suggesting it. She cringed at the very idea. Riding behind the captain without the wicker case between them might well get her into more trouble than she was ready for. Indeed, she was well aware that she was beginning to look more and more like a grown woman without her clothes to disguise her.

“Then what are you waiting around here for?” Cole questioned.

“I was wondering—” She found it hard to admit that she worried about a Yankee. “I was wonderin’ if—if ‘at last fella made it through all right.”

Cole led his horse around and stood staring at the young, unkempt lad. Finally Al shrugged away her shame.

“I gots my weak moments jes’ like everybody else.”

Cole chuckled. “You do surprise me, Al.”

“He did make it, didn’t he?” Shading her eyes against the lowering sun, Alaina tried to see his face.

“Bobby Johnson made it,” Cole conceded. “If he survives the next few days, he just might make it home.”

“ ‘At’s all I was wantin’ to know.” Al straightened herself to slide off the hitching post but in the process felt herself losing the heavy boots. In an attempt to keep them on, she raised her legs. It was surely not the most graceful descent she had ever made in her life, but it might have been the quickest. The hard ground was there to meet her soft backside when she landed unceremoniously in the dust. Her yelp of pain made Cole’s horse shy. Suddenly seeing that she might be trampled on by the huge beast, Alaina quickly forgot her agony and scrambled up, leaving her boots behind. It was all too much for Cole’s control, and he burst into amused laughter, winning Al’s outraged glare.

“You sorry Yankee! You’d just as soon let that mule stomp me into the ground!”

“Now, Al.” Cole chuckled, trying to stem his urge to levity. “I was just watching you dismount that hitching rail. You were the one who frightened Sarg. Don’t blame me.”

Alaina ruefully rubbed her bruised posterior and wished she could groan her misery in her own natural tones.

“You’re going to be sore.” Cole offered his wisdom freely. “If you would accept a Yankee doctor’s treatment, I’ve got some liniment in the dayroom I could massage—”

“No, suh!” Alaina shook her head and was most serious in rebuke. “I ain’t taking down my britches fer no Yankee!”

Cole was sure Al’s voice carried the whole length of the street and back. He sighed and painfully closed his eyes. “Now that you have everyone staring and no doubt think the worst, are you satisfied?”

Al cackled gleefully and hooked her slim thumbs in her rope belt. “Gotcha, didn’t I, Yankee? Fer once, I gotcha. And you know somep’n?” She sauntered arrogantly close. “I’ll laugh when they hangs ya.”

“Major Magruder warned me about you,” Cole remarked dryly. “I should have listened.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him none neither.”

“If you care for a ride home,” Cole said tersely and wondered why he should trouble himself, “I’m going that way shortly. You can wait at my apartment while I change my uniform—”

Alaina looked at him narrowly. “Ya goin’ out to see Roberta?”

“She invited me to dinner.” Cole leisurely raised an eyebrow. “I need not ask if you mind. Your feelings are apparent.”

Irritably Al folded her arms across her bosom. “Ain’t no skin off’n my nose what critters Roberta
fetches in fer supper. She always was one fer taking up with skunks and whatnot. Anyway, it ain’t my table. Just don’t figger on me joinin’ ya, ‘at’s all. I don’t eat with Yankees less’n I can’t help it.”

“Do you want the ride?” Cole questioned impatiently.

“I ain’t of a mind to ride the rump of ‘at high steppin’ nag clear to home,” she replied, rubbing her backside.

“I had planned to take a buggy from my apartment.” Cole shrugged. “Suit yourself, though. I guess when a boy is as soft as you are, he might just as well take to wearing dresses. As to that,” he gestured casually to the slim, bare feet, “I’ve seen a lot of lady’s slippers bigger than your feet.”

Self-consciously Alaina curled her thin toes into the dust. “You were gonna fetch up a buggy to ride out?”

Cole nodded. “Do you want to come along?”

“I’ll meetcha over your ‘partment maybe,” Al said sheepishly. She didn’t like taking favors from Yankees, but it would save her a penny or two, and nowadays a penny seemed like a fortune.

“If you’re not there when I come out,” Cole said as he swung onto his mount, “I won’t wait for you.”

Alaina retrieved her boots. “I’ll be there, Yankee.”

And so she was, and early enough that she waited some moments across the street for him to appear. Keeping an eye on his apartment window, she strolled around the square until she was pushed roughly aside by several soldiers who brushed boisterously past. Through the gathering darkness, she glared at their backs, then turned to stare angrily at
the words General Butler had added to the dedication on the base of the statue of Andrew Jackson—“the Union must and shall be preserved.”

“Just like a Yankee to rub it in,” she sneered.

Hearing the rhythmic clip-clop of horse’s hooves and the rattle of carriage wheels, she turned and, recognizing the captain in the buggy seat, waved and hastened toward him. He drew rein beside her. “I was wondering if you would make it.”

She saw his face in the deep dusk and the soft yellow glow of the buttons on his uniform as they reflected the lights from the gaily illuminated apartments. It sometimes surprised her just how handsome he was. “You sure this is free?”

Cole pulled a long, slim cigar from his blouse and leisurely rebuttoned the brass. “Seems to me, Al,” he spoke as he struck a sulfur match and puffed the long cheroot alight, “that you’d know when to keep that sharp tongue sheathed, especially when you could lose that which you want.”

Al indignantly protested. “You was the one what offered! Did I beg ya? Did I, huh?”

Cole raised the reins to slap them against the horse’s back. “If you don’t want the ride—”

“Wait!” Alaina bit her lip as Cole leaned back in the seat and grinned. She yielded. “I wouldn’t mind a ride.”