The boy nodded and pointed. “She is the lady in the middle, with that purple ribbon on.”
Francois turned and saw the lady with the purple cockade that showed well against her died black dress. He waited while the priest finished his prayers and blessed them all before he limped over to her.
“Mrs. Wiggins?”
The short woman looked up, her deep brown eyes liquid in tears and a sea of red. Her skin was pale, traces of the black stain of the gown stained her neckline as the high humidity made her glisten. Wiggin’s wife was a short petite lady, with black hair and rosy cheeks. The strains of the war were evident in her lean face and tight stance. How he wished he wasn’t here with this frightful task.
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Ronald Wiggins.”
He took his hat off. “Mrs. Wiggins, I have bad news. I’m Francois Fontaine, a member of the Tigers and friend of your husband.” He saw her shiver. Damn, how he hated this! He pulled a small, brown paper-wrapped parcel out of his frock coat and handed it to her. “I was with Ronnie, when he was killed in Virginia. It was a tremendous battle and he gave his all for the country he loved. He asked me to give you this.”
Ada was at their side and as his friend’s wife broke into tears, Ada touched her arm with a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Wiggins.”
The woman’s wailing stopped and she looked at Ada with accusatory eyes. “Your accent. You’re a Northerner!”
Ada’s eyes widened, not prepared for the attack, just like Francois wasn’t.
“Yes ma’am. I’m a doctor. I’m from Pennsylvania.”
“Murderer!” she screamed.
“Mrs. Wiggins, please,” Francois started but she cut him cold.
“Ronnie wrote to me about you two. How you were wounded and captured but she saved you.” She glared at Ada. “And while you might heal, you also are one of them ‘free the slaves’ folk! One of the reasons my husband died! Died! All for you wanting to set the darkies free! How dare you!”
Francois scooped his free arm around Ada’s side, trying to take her out before she said something that’d make this worse. “Mrs. Wiggins, she is to be my wife. I understand you’re upset, but I must ask you to refrain.”
“I’m a doctor first!” Ada declared, in a chance to defend herself.
“Liar!” Then Mrs. Wiggins started to laugh. “Fontaine is the family? Well, Miss High’n Mighty, enjoy that little fun you’re marrying into!” Her laughter escalated as did the tears.
He could feel Ada tremble. She’d never thought she’d be attacked like this. Still trying to walk out of here, having completed his task of delivering Ronnie’s last request, he tried to bow and added, “We are sorry for your loss, ma’am.”
“Get out! Get out!”
Ada sniffled as they rode away, trying to blame the flowering trees for making her nose itch, instead of the confrontation she’d just had. With a wipe of her handkerchief, she grimaced. The embroidered linen square looked dirty, wrinkly and so unappealing that under normal circumstances, she’d toss it into a fire pit, only to realize she probably appeared no better. They were going to his family’s home, and even as just a doctor alone, she hated to look so bad. As his fiancée, it was worse. Not only would her credentials be questioned, as always, but so would her loyalty, her sanity, perhaps her social status as she no doubt looked no better than white trash, one they’d figure he’d bedded and now, she with child, so he needed to wed her. It all made her angry. Because, outside the frumpiness, all those appraisals were wrong!
Ahead, she saw the outline of a few buildings. “Does it by chance have a hotel we could clean up in?”
“Yes, though its been ransacked by the Yankees. Now, I do know a place we could clean up that will be in better shape.”
That puzzled her. The hotel was in pieces, he claimed, but there was another place? A former mistress’s place? She shuddered at the thought. “You know this lady well?”
He was silent as they walked down the main street. Few people were out, a couple waved, calling out hello to him and his return. She kept expecting he’d stop but he didn’t till they got to the last building and pulled his horse up in front of a store with the placard outside claiming it was Antoine’s Barber shop.
“This is what you’re looking for.” He lifted her off the saddle.
Antoine was an elderly white man with white hair and whiskers and spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. “Francois, boy, tres bien! You’ve returned in one piece!” He eyed the cane, eyebrow rising in question.
Francois laughed. “Yes, all in one piece, thanks to this lovely lady. Antoine, let me introduce you to Miss, no, Doctor Ada Lorrance.”
Antoine’s frown deepened, as if disbelieving, before he broke into a large smile. “A doctor? Only you Francois, would claim such!”
“No sir, I’m not fibbin’.”
Antoine offered her his hand and then clasped hers in his two. “Pleasure to meet you, miss.”
Ada stiffened, as usual when her title was scoffed at. “He is correct. I am a surgeon, sir. From Pennsylvania.”
The man stopped cold. “Francois, you brought us a Yankee?”
Ada raised her chin, readying herself for another assault when Francois stepped in.
“Yes, Antoine, that she is. She saved my foot from meeting with the head surgeon’s saw. Got badly hurt in Virginia, captured by the Union and left to rot in their hospital until she was given the permission to tend to me and the others of the Tigers. She brought me back from death and my body intact—twice, in fact!” He stepped closer to the apothecary. “She has come to see to the sick, since the fever is here. Now, we need some supplies.”
Antoine gave her another glance. Her skin itched as he assessed if she was worth his time, or perhaps she had lice at this
