“What do you have to say, Miss Lorrance?” Dix queried.
Ada’s blood boiled. This overgrown child was trying to get her fired! It took every ounce of energy—which was in short supply after the mischief her house-patient had caused last night. She’d hardly slept! But, she pulled from reserves she didn’t know she had and did her best to hide her anger.
“Dr. Waxler is a good physician, and has risen to the mark every time after a battle,” she started. It wouldn’t hurt to ply the man’s ego. “Even managing a team of doctors and nurses during the chaos of numerous wounded arriving is commendable. But he failed to utilize every asset he had, and that includes another doctor, one as trained as the rest, but who is not a man. Because I carry a womb, I, somehow, cannot operate under stress, according to Dr. Waxler. So he’d let men suffer due to that affliction he claims I have.
“Only once did he allow me to help, and that was after the battle fought in Virginia. Mine’s Creek. And even that was only in aid of the wounded rebels, as he tended not to care if they lived or died—”
“I object!” Waxler’s face was red with anger. “How dare you.”
She returned his stare. “I have no worries telling the truth. Do you?” She stood, strength pumping her blood now. “You let me in because one of your own wasn’t as keen on the injuries, and you claimed he was needed for the men in blue, when I consider all who suffer are to be taken care of.”
The notice of another surgeon lacking skills caught Bliss’s attention. “Who was this other surgeon?”
“He’s of little note,” Waxler stated. “He’s a good doctor. Truth was, I needed him to work on our men over theirs.”
Dix’s eyes were as inflamed as Bliss’s were.
“Plus, Miss High and Mighty here,” Waxler continued. “Has recently been slacking in her duties, even falling asleep on the job.”
Ada gasped. Dix’s gaze on her narrowed and even Bliss shot a glance her way.
“Are you all right, Miss Lorrance?” Bliss’s gaze glanced up and down her.
“I am myself, sir. Just a bit tired. Tenants at my boarding house were a touch in the drink, I reckon. Kept me up half the night.”
Dix settled back down. “The plague of war, my dear.”
“When was the last time you were granted furlough, Miss Lorrance?”
Ada started at Bliss’s question. “It’s been a while, sir.”
“Well, then, let us agree to you taking one,” he started, turning toward Waxler. “You are granted holidays at once. Miss Lorrance, you get yours now too.”
“But sir—” Waxler started at same time as Ada.
“Your patients will be fine. We do have a full hospital here,” Bliss stated as he sat back down. “Full of doctors, since the armies have gone into winter camp. Two on leave will cause no worries. You are granted two weeks. Now,” he looked up at them, over the rim of his glasses. “Go.”
Chapter 18
“Grant is a butcher and not fit to be at the head of an army. He loses two men to the enemy’s one. He has no management, no regard for life…I could fight an army as well myself.”
—Mary Todd Lincoln’s remark after Grant lost fifty thousand men in The Wilderness Campaign, 1864
Ada blinked, her mind racing. Two week’s furlough. Two weeks with no pay. Two weeks with no work. What was she to do? She had a patient, the enemy, perched in her room, telling all he was her husband. No, he’d only told their housekeeper, but no doubt the word had spread. Now, she couldn’t take him anywhere like home, and he wasn’t well enough to send back to prison or wherever he was to go. At this point, she didn’t care, other than she was stuck and wanted to scream.
Then again, she could turn him in. While a certain amount of satisfaction would arise, so would the problems. Problems like her getting the blame for have an escaped prisoner. For Will having aided in that endeavor. And all his recovery would no doubt be in jeopardy as he was thrown back into the prison or killed. She sighed, frustrated and angry.
Thankfully, she could enter the house without seeing anyone, especially Mrs. Turner. It appeared her Confederate roommate was not downstairs either. Part of her wanted to know how his foot was, if he had walked more and if it was swollen from it—a thought that made her step falter, aggravated this man was trying to work his way under her skin. Damn slaveholder! Gathering her wits, she turned to head to the room, when there was a knock at the door behind her. Startled, she looked and discovered it was Will.
“Will, what are you doing here?” she said softly, allowing him in the door.
He looked nervous, even skittish. “I heard of your upcoming departure.” He leaned a little closer, dropping his tone. “Waxler is inflamed, of course, but you, you deserve some time to rest. My concern, though, is our patient.”
She bit her bottom lip and started to shift her weight, trying to keep her own pent up anger quiet so as not to raise the attention of Mrs. Turner or anyone else.
“That is a good question. I, too, was not expecting to take a holiday leave. I can hardly take him with me, as you know. Therefore, I must leave him in your hands.”
“Oh, by heaven above, you can’t!” Now Will started to pace, a frantic look on his face. “You are not the only one leaving. I requested leave. I must return home for a family affair. I can’t drag an injured prisoner with me!”
Quickly, she motioned with her hands for him to lower his voice. Yet his denial of his responsibility lit her
