“Yessum,” Wiggins agreed. “Hard to tell with them two. O’Reilly hasn’t been up but once and then, he retched everywhere. Tourant’s got a fever, been saying odd things without being awake. Not looking great for them, either.”
Francois exhaled. He tried moving his foot again and bit back the pain. He swung the better leg over the side of the bed and slowly brought the other up. The stinging was painful but not enough to stop him. He grinned at Wiggins. His friend’s eyes narrowed. He ignored it and sat upright, leaning over till his feet touched the floor. His good foot steadied him but when the other touched the boards and he put his weight on it, a lightning bolt exploded, and crippled, he fell to the floor, his last thought was of Emma and how he had to get out of here. Then it all went black.
Chapter 11
“If {sic}Meade ever did a noble act in his life, it was when he concluded not to fight Lee in his strong hold upon the banks of Mine Run at a temperature of the weather, far, far below freezing. Newspapers blame him and call him a coward for not doing so, but let their editors…have seen and felt what I saw and felt up that occasion and instead of taunts and ridicules, they would bestow words of commendation.”
—Union surgeon, Daniel Holt, December 1863
December 2, 1863
Prevailing winds inched up another notch, their freezing path decimating anything that was exposed. Even in her bedchamber, Ada curled, still clothed in her woolen dress with her wrap on and the drapery the laundress shoved into her hands, a long lengthy piece of silk, now folded in four, covered her. Sleep that night was next to impossible, for even if she got her teeth to stop chattering, Maybelle and the other two in the curtain space next to hers, continued. Who ever thought that Virginia could get this cold?
Slam!
The window in her closet had one of its shutters break loose of its hooks and it banged into the windowsill only to fly back open onto the house. She nearly jumped at the sound but, when she recognized the source, she got up, tossing her covers aside and pushed the window open and relatched the errant piece. The blistering cold air rushed into her room and managed to seep through her garments to brush her skin, making it prickle in the cold. A shiver raced through her, but she didn’t step back from the window until she witnessed the soldiers far out scurrying in the dawn air, collecting their supplies. She also saw the first of what would be many ambulances pull up the drive where it halted. They were moving.
Her mind raced. There were many patients and not enough help, if all was left to them to accomplish this. Straightening her skirts, re-pinning her pinner apron on and dampening her hair so it laid flat in its tight bun, she raced out of her room to wake the other nurses.
“Ladies, wake up! We are needed right now!”
Many mornings, it seemed to take an act of the Almighty to get these three moving but today, they burst through the blanket flap door, ready to move.
“We could hear them not too long ago, stirring the pot,” Maybelle answered Ada’s quiet question. “I could see the men getting ready, so we’ve been getting ready.”
“I’m pleased to see that. It’s a might chilly, so fortify yourselves with some coffee.” As they headed towards the kitchens, she turned and ran right into Will. He chuckled and gave her his cup.
“Looks like you’ll need this. We’ve got a lot to do today.”
She took a sip of the black drink and relished the heat that spread down her throat. “I wasn’t aware we were leaving so fast.”
“Meade has ordained the Confederate numbers are too big here for him to squash Lee after all. We took this place, he claims, but the bigger plan would be thwarted.” He shrugged. “Or so I hear.”
“Your diagnosis is McClellan-disorder?” She couldn’t resist. General McClellan had held off fighting the rebels for half a year, claiming the other side outnumbered his, though she’d read too many newspapers claiming otherwise. After all, the population of the South was less than the North.
Will opened his mouth but another voice boomed across the room. Waxler.
“Dr. Leonard, Nurse Lorrance, we have a hospital full of patients we must ready to leave. Start with the less wounded, sir, and we’ll get them out first.”
“Sir, what of the Confederates?” She knew the moment the words spilled out, she’d cause a stink and watched it become a reality as the officer’s face turned a shade of red.
“They can stay here and freeze, for all I care,” he snapped. “Our men go first. Doctor!” He eyed Will and with a nod, took off toward the main rooms, where the Union patients were.
“Ada, don’t push the man,” Will warned. “We won’t let them freeze.”
As he turned, she grabbed his arm, flooded with concern. “Where are we headed?”
“Back north, winter’s quarters, I’ve heard.” He stalked off.
Downing her coffee, she noticed Maybelle watching her. “Yes, Nurse?”
The girl had a knowing look in her eye and it made Ada wonder what set her off, but then her fellow nurse lapsed into a dreamy-eyed stare.
“He’s quite dapper, is he not?” Her voice sounded dreamy.
Ada shook her head, her brows knitting together. “Dapper? Dr. Leonard?” Will was nice enough young man, though dapper in this setting didn’t fit well.
Maybelle laughed. “Oh, heavens, not him. Dr. Waxler.”
Ada’s heart skipped a beat and she blinked. “Maybelle, you are aware that Nurse Dix does not approved of nurses who sign on to find romance. It is inappropriate, to say the least.” It even made her blood curl, but then again, if her own heart’s desire was here, could she hold
