Wedded to War (45 page)

The sound of footsteps on the gangway grew louder in Ruby’s ears until there was no question they were headed toward her.

Charlotte entered first. “Ruby,” she began, “are you ready to go home?”

And where might that be?
she wondered.

“I’m sorry?”

“Phineas has come down for me. It’s time to go back to New York, away from these marshes. Much better for the baby …” Charlotte kept talking, but the sound of her voice trailed away in Ruby’s mind almost as soon as she heard Phineas’s name. Her gaze darted furtively around the cabin, and she instinctively clutched Aiden to her a little closer.

“He’s here?” She interrupted Charlotte without thinking.

“Yes, you might remember you met him after our little camp Christmas party—but you were so tired then … Ruby, are you all right, dear?”

She was not all right. Heat bloomed at her collar and climbed up her throat until she felt like her skin was on fire. Phineas had just stepped inside, filling the small doorway with his frame, hand outstretched toward her. Woodenly, she returned the gesture and allowed him to kiss her hand. Her skin burned where his mustache had grazed it. But one
glance at Charlotte told her she still didn’t know their history.

“We’ll be getting married soon,” Charlotte was saying, extending her hand to show off a sparkling diamond and sapphire ring.

Ruby gasped. “When was this decided?”

Charlotte fixed her eyes on the ring. “He just put the ring on my finger a few moments ago.”

Aiden stirred, and Ruby tucked his cotton blanket about him.
Married? No, no, why would she do that? She’s too good for him! She’ll be in for a lifetime of sorrow and regret with his wander in eye and heavy fists.
She could hardly stand the thought.
But if I say anything to her, she’ll ask how I know. If I tell her the truth, I’m sure she’ll cut me off like she cast out that prostitute at the Columbian College Hospital when I first arrived …

“That’s quite a good-looking little baby you’ve got there,” Phineas said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “I’ll bet his father is mighty proud, isn’t he?”

Goosebumps broke out over Ruby’s body, covering her with a chill.

“Phineas,” Charlotte hissed, pulling him aside. “I already told you! His father died not long ago.”

“Is that so? My, my, for a loyal, devoted wife, you seem to be holding up well without him around. Or had you already been used to that?”

Ruby’s heart leapt into her throat, and her mouth went dry. Where on earth was this going?

Charlotte tugged hard on Phineas’s arm, clearly a sign to make him watch his tongue.

“It’s different when there’s a child involved, though, isn’t it?” Phineas plowed ahead. “A child needs a father. Especially a son. It wouldn’t be right to deprive your boy of a man in the house. Do you plan to marry again?” His bristly black mustache twisted in a smirk.

How cruel! Of course no one would marry me, and you know it.

“It’s too soon to speak of such things,” said Charlotte, backing out toward the doorway now.

“Never too early to plan your future, I always say.” His eyes gleamed. “You know, the Five Points House of Industry back in New York has
teamed up the Children’s Aid Society to take unwanted children into their care until they are adopted by respectable families.”

“Who said anything about Aiden being unwanted?” Charlotte interrupted. “His mother is right here!”

“Ah yes, my dear, but can the mother sustain both him and herself back in New York, without the shelter of a hospital ship, nor the provisions of the Sanitary Commission? It’s something to consider. Many of these children who stay at the House of Industry are mail-ordered to families out west—Illinois, Iowa—as far away as you could get from the slums, I’d say. They’d give him a real wholesome upbringing on a farm, most likely. Doesn’t that sound like a better life than you could give him?”

Ruby recognized the glint in his eyes. This was not a helpful suggestion, but a threat. What he was really saying did not escape her:
Keep your mouth shut or I’ll have your son sent out West.

Aiden cried for milk, and Charlotte and Phineas left mother and baby in privacy. Invisible pins and needles pricked Ruby’s breasts from the inside as her milk let down, but it was no less painful than the pricking of her conscience by the choice she must make. Should she try to protect Charlotte by telling her the truth? Or try to protect herself—and, more importantly, Aiden—by keeping quiet? She knew what Phineas was capable of when he felt threatened. For Aiden’s sake, she would do her best not to provoke him. She stroked the top of the baby’s velvety head.
Her
baby. Half hers, anyway. She may not have wanted him at first, but he was all she had left. He was not the one to blame. She had to do right by him, whatever it took.

Edward was keenly aware of every bony vertebrae as the hard pine pew pressed against his spine. The irrational thought that the pew itself
was repulsing him crossed his mind as he leaned forward to prop his head in his hands.

Should I send Caleb’s letter or mine?
The same question had been rattling around in his brain for days, but it was no use. Even here, in the Chapel of the Centurion, he felt no closer to having an answer.

As he trudged out of the chapel, he scanned the small village of white tents that housed the contrabands in the neighboring yard. Fortress Monroe had been dubbed Freedom’s Fortress, for all the runaway slaves it put to work. But Edward had never felt more in bondage than he did right now. His thoughts were as stuck as the horses that sank up to their harnesses in the Virginia swamps.

“Something wrong, Preacher?” It was Willie, an older contraband who had taken a special interest in Edward from his first day at the fortress.

“Hello, Willie.” Edward raised a hand in greeting. “I’ve just got a decision to make and can’t bring myself to go either way on it.”

Willie nodded, his dark face shining with perspiration beneath his tightly coiled grey hair. From the looks of it, he had been hard at work in his garden recently, cultivating onions and potatoes to sell to the soldiers.

“Well, Preach, the way I look at things, most choices ain’t that tricky. You can’t serve two masters, and don’t we know it, sure enough.” He threw an arm back to point at the tents behind him. “You can work for the wrong or work for the right. Like us here. Once we se working for the Confederacy under our Southern masters until we up and came here, and now we se serving the Union. See that?”

Edward nodded. “We’re grateful for all you do for the cause, too.”

Willie waved the comment away and swatted at mosquitoes on his arm. “But do you get it? You can serve the Enemy or you can serve God. Don’t matter what the decision is, usually. I’se not talking about whether you want to eat a banana or a peach with your grits. I’se talkin’ about bigger stuff. Make sense to you? If you lie, cheat, steal, kill, you’se serving evil. Satan. But if you’se honest, unselfish, keeping others in mind ahead of yourself, you’se doing the right thing and serving God.”

Edward suddenly had the uncomfortable sensation that he was being preached to—even more surprising, he needed a good sermon right about now. “After all you’ve been through, do you still believe in a good and loving God?” Edward asked Willie.

A smile spread wide over Willie’s face, revealing yellowed and missing teeth. “Course I do, sure enough.”

“But the slavery …” Edward trailed off. Willie’s thin cotton tunic, wet with sweat and clinging to his back, was raised with scar tissue where whips had once raked through his flesh on his back. It had reminded Edward of a relief map of a dozen roads and rivers.
How could his faith remain so strong after that?

“Nah,” said Willie. “Wasn’t God who whup me and rode me harder’n a driving horse. People did. You can’t get the two confused. God is still good. It’s people who ain’t.”

Against his will, tears filled Edward’s eyes. “But God is sovereign!” he said.

Willie shrugged. “True enough. But all people get choices, too, right? Like the one you gotta make. Some people, they choose right, and some people, they choose wrong. I ain’t got the book learnin’ like you, son. I don’t know how it all works together. But God does, that’s for sure, and that’s good enough for me.” He paused, and Edward had the feeling Willie could read his soul just by looking at his face. “Now make up your mind and do the right thing, even if it hurts. If you know what God says about it, well, obey that. And don’t try to figure your way out of it to please yourself.”

All these moments of agonizing indecision—was it really so simple to come to a conclusion?
If I were more concerned with God’s approval rather than Charlotte’s, I would not have had any question about what to do at all!

He sighed, clapped Willie on the back in thanks, and made his way over to the post office. This nonsense had gone on long enough.
If I really love her, I will give her the freedom to make her own decisions without manipulating the situation.
Edward looked heavenward, Willie’s words still echoing in his mind.
You give us the freedom to make decisions
without manipulating them—and that’s how we ended up in this ugly, awful war.
A flicker of insight flared within Edward. God was still sovereign. But He would not force humans to make the right decisions.

Edward picked up his stride with confidence now, and mailed Dr. Lansing’s letter to White House Landing. Charlotte’s choices were not for Edward to steer.

All of it, up inflames.

Charlotte watched the sky grow thick with smoke above White House from the deck of the
Wilson Small
, along with everyone else. Fire flashes illumined the night sky with an eerie orange glow.

McClellan and Lee had been at each other’s throats for three days, getting closer to White House Landing all the time. If Lee’s army had reached the White House before the hospital transports had gotten away, they would have stolen or burned all the Sanitary Commission supplies. The sick and wounded would have been killed or captured. Now the hospital transports were running away from Stonewall Jackson, back down the Pamunkey and into Fortress Monroe to await further instructions. Which side was winning, no one could tell.
How many casualties will there be?
Charlotte had wondered.
Where will they congregate? What will we do with them once we find them? We have nothing left!

And then she remembered. It was no longer her concern. At least, it shouldn’t be. As soon as the smoke cleared and the
Daniel Webster
was filled with soldiers, she, Phineas, Ruby, and Aiden would be on it, steaming back up to New York.

“This is why I didn’t want you here in the first place,” Phineas was saying. “Can you see that now, Charlotte? Do you understand I’ve been trying to protect you all this time?”

She pretended not to hear him as the boom of unseen cannons shook her, body and soul. It seemed she had no answers anymore, only questions. What was McClellan doing? The battle had begun on Wednesday, with the Union just a few miles southeast of Richmond, But since then, the army had been falling farther and farther back. They could all hear the scream of battle inching its way closer to them. Was it a long, protracted defeat? How many lives would it cost this time? For the first time, Charlotte dared to entertain the idea that the North could lose. It had seemed absolutely impossible before, but now she had lost that comforting assurance that victory would be theirs.
But God!
her heart cried.
The North is right! We cannot lose! All those lives, lost for nothing! Sacrificed for defeat! May it never be!

Her eyes burned. She was dizzy from lack of sleep. It all seemed like a nightmare to her. Nothing made sense, there was no purpose, no context. Only terrifying images and a sense of inescapable danger.

Phineas wrapped his arm around her, and she buried her face on his shoulder. She was finally ready to go home.