Chapter Eleven
“Abigail, you have company.”
Abigail slowly opened her eyes and looked at Mrs. Beaton. “Who?” she asked as she struggled to sit up.
“The lieutenant of course. He is waiting in the parlor.”
“All right. I will be down in a few minutes.”
“You are not sick now, are you? Although, come to think of it, Julia never was sick, was she?”
“Not at all. I’m not, either. I was just having a good, deep sleep. Need to freshen up a bit.”
“I will tell him it will be a few moments then.”
Abigail staggered over to the washstand and splashed the cool water on her face. It took a few doses of that to make her feel more awake. Drying her face, she then cleaned her teeth. What she really needed was a good night’s sleep.
After a quick brushing of her hair, she tied it back with a ribbon and smoothed down her skirts then began to make her way down the stairs. She walked into the parlor and saw Betsy sitting in the far corner of the room with her children. Mrs. Beaton was getting sneaky about chaperones, she decided, then smiled at Matthew.
“They were in here when Mrs. Beaton sent me in,” he said quietly as he bent to gently kiss her cheek.
“Chaperones. The woman is very good at sneaking one or more in. Very devious.”
He laughed softly. “Shall we go for a stroll then, Abbie?”
“That would be very pleasant, Lieutenant MacEnroy. I will just get my coat.”
Matthew gave Betsy a quick smile while he watched Abbie in the hallway put on her coat and the woman grinned and winked at him. “Nice to see ye again, ma’am. How is your husband?”
“He is doing just fine, sir. The wounds are healing beautifully.”
“Abbie is verra good at tending wounds.”
“She certainly is.”
Abbie was just buttoning her coat up and talking softly with Rose when he stepped out into the hall. He moved to stand beside her and wondered about the reason behind the deep serious looks both women wore. Something was still not right at the Beaton house.
“Oh, it looks to be a lovely day. This coat may be more than I need,” said Abbie as they went down the front steps.
“I believe I would not be put to the test too hard if I had to carry it for you.” He smiled when she laughed.
“It is good to get out of there for a little while.”
He took her arm and they started walking. “Is Julia still causing problems?”
“I fear so. It would be too easy to get angry with her except I know it is because she is not really well. I had hoped the baby would pull her free of what ailed her, but it does not seem to have accomplished that. Last night she took that newborn baby out to his father’s grave. She didn’t even get dressed or wrap the child in extra blankets. Just stepped out of bed, picked up the child, and went. If I had not tied a bell to the door, I fear we may have found both dead on his grave.”
“It might just take her a wee time to shake free of the grief.”
“That is what I am hoping. Just some time and then the child will reach her and she will slowly stop seeing Robert everywhere and talking to him and see his son instead.”
“She sees and talks to Robert?”
“I fear so.” Abbie sighed. “It is why I have Rose keeping a watch over her while I am out.”
Seeing no one else out, he put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her up against his side. “It will pass. Grief is an odd thing. Some soldiers get through it just fine and it can actually break some but, I think, most are someplace in the middle of that.”
“If she would just inch into the middle it would help. Where are we going? This is a new direction for us.”
“We are going to the riverside. One of the men put up a rough bench so he could sit and watch it. Said it soothed him. I thought it might help ye.”
“Oh. It just might although I had not thought myself too uneasy.” She thought about it for a minute. “I might be though. I worry about the child.”
“Only right. A bairn that small cannae do anything to help himself.”
As they walked down a small slope away from the road, she saw the river and smiled. It was not a soothing sight at the moment since it was swollen from melting snow and all the rain they had had lately, but the sound of the water rushing over the stony riverbed was calming in an odd way. She sat on the bench after checking on the roughness of the seat and then looked out and sighed. Even if she found no ease in the rushing water, the forest on the opposite bank was pleasant to watch.
“It is a bit fast and loud today,” Matthew said as he sat beside her.
“Yet strangely fascinating, but the trees opposite are very soothing. Peaceful and green, with the promise of better weather.”
Matthew smiled faintly. He had been concerned when he saw the state of the river for relaxing was not something one could do near such a torrent. Yet she found something to slowly wash away the tension he had sensed in her. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, pleased when she rested her head on his shoulder.
Glancing behind him he saw that the back of the bench had been made smooth so he leaned back taking her with him. He had not had any plan for being with her today except to get her away from the demands of Julia, but he was beginning to get a few ideas. He grinned and kissed her cheek.
“Are you certain it is safe out here?” she asked, looking around.
“We have found no sign of the Rebs or the marauders in days,” he answered, and turned to pull her into his arms then kissed her.
Abbie relaxed into his kiss, returning it with all the desire she felt for the man. It was dangerous, a voice whispered in her mind, reminding her of the situation Julia was now in, but Abbie ignored it. There were times when one just had to roll the dice and pray for the best outcome.
Matthew pulled her onto his lap, positioning her so that she straddled him. When she rubbed against him, he growled out his approval. Kissing her throat, he slid his hand beneath her skirts so he could stroke her. When she gasped softly he kissed her again. Her arms tightened around his neck and he felt her damp heat against his fingers.
Fighting to control his rapidly mounting need he undid her bodice and kissed the gentle swell of her breasts. He gave a little start of surprise when he felt her slender fingers undo his coat and shirt. She ran her fingers over his chest and he was surprised by how much that tentative, innocent touch fired his blood.
When Abigail kissed him, he freed himself from his pants and clasped her by the hips. For a moment the feel of her heat against his skin was enough, but that satisfaction quickly grew into a greedy hunger. He lifted her up a little and settled her over him then, keeping in mind that she was still a novice, slowly joined their bodies.
Shocked, Abbie buried her face in the side of his neck as he moved her body on his. That feeling soon gave way to pleasure and she quickly caught on to what he wanted from her, moving on him without guidance. Her breasts rubbed against the hair on his chest even as he moved his fingers to a spot near where their bodies were joined. That puzzled her until she felt the pleasure inside her begin to rapidly build.
Increasingly desperate to ease or end the need he was stirring within her, she began to move faster as if she was racing toward a finish line to win some grand prize. A heartbeat later, she did. She buried her face in the curve where his neck met his shoulder and cried out as her body shuddered. Matthew sat up straight and moved her body on his until he tensed and groaned from the strength of his release.
They were both panting as if they had just run a hard race, thought Abigail. She then wondered how one delicately got out of this position. Just as she was beginning to think there was no way, he lifted her up and set her down at his side. She busied herself with smoothing out her skirts as he tidied himself up. She wondered idly how something done so quickly and stealthily could give such satisfaction but it did. Someday, she thought, they would have to try and perform the act with more leisure.
Staring at the river as she wondered what to say, Abigail spotted something floating by on the water. It got caught on a branch that had broken off one of the trees lining the bank. Curious, she got up and hurried to grab it before the flow of the water ripped it free. It was a cap, a gray cap, and her heart began to pound with alarm. It was something only a Reb or a marauder would wear, which meant trouble was near.
“What have ye got?” asked Matthew as he stood up and stretched.
“Trouble, I am thinking,” she said as she hurried to his side and showed him the cap.
“Damn.” He hurried to the bank and, hanging on tightly to a low branch, went out as far as he dared to look up the river.
When staring up the river revealed nothing for several moments, he began to think the cap had come from some dead man killed near the river. Just as he was about to go back onto the bank, he heard the faint sound of oars being used and looked again. The instant he caught sight of the boat he hurried back to Abigail.
“Rebs or marauders,” he said as he grabbed Abigail by the hand and started back to town as fast as he could.
“You think they are going to come ashore here?” she asked as she did her best to keep pace with him.
“Only good place for docking there is for quite a stretch. Also think we are the last of the Union soldiers in the area and would be a perfect target. Waiting for a couple of men to be healed enough to move.”
As they reached the road into town, he hesitated for a moment and listened. The men obviously did not expect anyone to be down at the riverside because they were talking to each other freely and above a whisper. Since supplies were no longer coming in that way and the dock had been destroyed, he supposed it was a reasonable assumption for them to make.
“Go warn the women,” he told Abigail.
“Do you want us to go to the jail again?” she asked.
“If ye can. It is the sturdiest place to shelter in. Go! I need to warn the men.”
She impulsively kissed him and then ran for the Beaton house. A couple of soldiers out walking stared at her as she hiked up her skirts so that she could run faster. When she reached the door of the Beaton house she glanced behind her and saw Matthew heading back toward the river with what looked to be a dozen armed men. That sight comforted her for it meant Matthew was not facing the danger alone.
Abigail opened the door and ran into the house only to nearly run down Mrs. Beaton. She stopped and fought to catch her breath as she said, “We have to go to the jail again. Now. They are coming in at the river.”
“I begin to think we should just move there,” said Mrs. Beaton even as she headed into the sitting room to order the women there to get moving.
As soon as she could breathe properly, Abigail hurried up the stairs, but when she rushed into her room she found Julia’s bed empty. She was relieved to find the baby sleeping peacefully and picked him up, wrapping a second small blanket around him. Grabbing the bag she had begun to keep packed in case they needed to run again, she headed back down the stairs.
“Rose,” she called, catching the woman just as she was headed out the door, “have you seen Julia?”
“Damn. No, I haven’t. You think she has wandered off again?”
“I do and I know where she has gone. Could you take the baby and my bag?”
Rose quickly took both and Abigail said, “Go on now. I will get her to the jail.”
“Be careful!” Rose called as she rushed out the door.
Abigail waved and headed for the back door. She paused a moment in the kitchen when she saw Mabel working on the evening meal. She supposed she ought not to be so shocked that no one had thought to tell the woman to flee or to where, or even that the enemy might be coming, but it did trouble her.
“Mabel, there is some trouble and the lieutenant has asked that we all shelter in the jail.”
“Is it a lot of trouble?” Mabel asked as she set her work aside and hastily washed her hands.
“No idea. The lieutenant got some men and is facing them down by the river. It may end there, but he still told me to get us all to the jail. Says it is the strongest building in town. So get your family and get over there as fast as you can.”
Mabel nodded and ran out. Abigail followed but headed straight for the graveyard. When she saw Julia at Robert’s grave she was more angry than concerned, until she got closer. The woman was ghostly pale and slumped against the wooden cross that marked the grave. She hurried over and touched Julia’s arm, finding it alarmingly chilled. Another quick check found the woman’s heart still beat.
“Julia,” she called and shook her gently. “We have to run to the jail.”
“Again?” Julia asked, her voice whisper soft and a bit slurred.
“Yes, I fear so.” Abigail helped Julia stand, not surprised at how much of the woman’s weight she had to shoulder. “You are out here in your nightclothes again.”
“No matter. No one to see.”
The woman spoke as if she was drunk, and it worried Abigail. “Are you feeling well, Julia?”
“Just feel as if all my innards are falling out.”
Since she had heard the complaint from other women after childbirth, Abigail was inclined to ignore it, but some instinct made her look Julia over as they staggered toward the jail. The back of her nightgown was soaked in blood and Abigail felt a stab of fear. She did her best to get Julia to the jail as quickly as possible. By the time she staggered through the door, she was almost carrying the woman.
Maude and Rose hurried over to help and Abigail released her grip on Julia. Betsy noticed the blood and quickly moved all the children to a different cell then busied herself with hanging up a sheet to block any view of Julia and what might happen. Maude handed Abigail some rags and she quickly replaced the ones Julia was wearing. She then bound them on as tightly as she could. Next, she tilted up Julia’s hips and legs as best she could with folded blankets and a couple of cushions. Abigail saw no sign that any of what she did was helping.
“I am going to have to get the doctor,” she said and dragged her hand through her hair, fleetingly wondering what had happened to the ribbon that she had tied it back with. “I’ve never dealt with bleeding this bad.”
“Nor I,” said Maude, and Rose shook her head in an echo of Maude’s words. “She can’t last long if it doesn’t stop. Should we take her to him?”
“I’ll bring him back. Moving her now could only add to the problem. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take your rifle,” called Rose as Abigail ran to the door.
“I planned on that.” She grabbed her rifle from where it leaned against the wall just inside the door and, after a careful survey of the street, bolted for the infirmary.
She had barely gotten inside the door of the infirmary when the doctor appeared at her side. He looked at her in shock, but she had no idea why nor the time or patience to find out. It was hard enough to ignore the sounds and smells of wounded men.
“Julia is bleeding too much,” she blurted out.
“I thought you said the birth went well.”
“It did or so I thought. She was bleeding but not badly, no worse than any other I have helped. Now it is just flowing out of her and I can’t stop it.”
“What have you done for her?”
“Tied her rags on as tightly as I could and raised up her hips and legs. It isn’t really helping.”
“I see. I’ll look at her, but you need to finish up here for me.” He put a threaded needle in her hand. “It is a long shallow cut low on the belly. Didn’t go deep enough to open him up but still needs closing.” He turned and pushed her gently toward the nearest bed.
“Matthew!” she cried out when she saw the man sprawled on that bed.
“It’s not deep,” the doctor said in a firm, steady voice. “He jumped back in time. Are you going to be able to do this?”
Abigail took a deep breath and, as she let it out slowly, she wrestled down her fear. “I can do it.”
“Good. I’ll go see if there is anything I can do for Julia.”
“She is in the jail,” she told him as he started to leave.
Forcing herself to think only of closing the wound, Abigail hurried to Matthew’s side. His eyes were closed but, she was fairly sure he was not sleeping. Looking at what the doctor had on his table, she found something to clean off the wound area. The cut was a long ugly slice across his belly and he was extremely lucky that it had not been deeper.
What really troubled her was how difficult she found it to make that first stitch. She had stitched up a lot of wounds, yet the thought of running a needle through Matthew’s flesh made her stomach churn. Scolding herself for cowardice and sternly reminding herself of how important it was to close his wound in order to stave off infection, she finally took that first stitch and proceeded to work with her usual speed.
Matthew grit his teeth against the pain. Forcing open one eye he realized it was Abbie stitching him up. He looked around for the doctor, did not see him anywhere, then looked back at Abbie who was busy working with her usual concentration and speed. When she tied off the stitching and sat back, the way she stared at his wound and covered her mouth gave him the distinct feeling that she was trying not to laugh. Since he saw nothing funny about a stomach wound, shallow or not, he frowned at her.
“Abbie,” he called, and she looked at him in surprise. “Why are ye here?”
“The doctor had to go see if he can help Julia. I did not realize you were the one who needed stitching. I worked as fast as I could,” she said as she carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. “Any other wounds?”
“The doctor already tended to them. Two.” He appreciated the look of worry on her face as she hurriedly searched him for signs of the wounds. “One wee scrape on my arm and a through and through wound on my leg.”
She reached for the sheet covering his wounded leg, but he snatched it out of her hands. “Nay. Best not.”
“Is it that bad?”
He used his other hand to point to a pile of clothing on the floor. “Doc doesnae cut the clothes off or make any attempt to protect one’s modesty.”
“Too much trouble,” said the doctor as he walked up to them.
“Julia?” Abigail asked warily, worried that he was back so soon, and felt the sting of tears in her eyes when he shook his head.
“I am sorry, Abbie. It happens sometimes. I examined her and she is badly torn up inside. Something must have just given out. She is desperate to speak to you, however.” When Abbie frowned and looked at Matthew, he added, “I’ll watch this fool.”
“Fool?” Matthew grumbled, but they both ignored him.
“Go, Abbie. There is not much time left and she was very adamant about talking to you.”
Abbie stood, lightly kissed Matthew, and then hurried away. She hated to leave him, wounded and bedridden as he was, but he was not dying. This time her friend truly did take precedence and she could be sure of the reason because the doctor had told her.
“The woman is dying?” asked Matthew.
The doctor nodded. “Bleeding to death. The strange thing is she talks to her dead husband.”
“Abbie said that. She kept going out to his grave to talk with him.”
“Which was probably enough to start her bleeding. Gave me a chill when she talked to him because she acted as if she could see him at her side.”
“Weel, maybe she finds comfort in that wee dream.”
“I find myself hoping that it is more than a dream.”
He checked Abbie’s stitching and then grinned. “This will leave an interesting scar.”
“What does it look like? Abbie looked as if she was going to smile, too.”
“You are going to have a big grin on your belly. It is placed very nicely beneath your belly button. Tattoo on a couple of eyes and you’d have a whole face there.” He laughed.
“Ha. Funny mon. And what the hell is your name anyway?”
The doctor blinked. “Harvey Deacon Pettibone the Third.”
Matthew shook his head. “Eastern nobility.”
“And always a doctor. One in every generation. When are you going to marry that girl?”
“Abbie?” He blushed at the disgusted look the doctor gave him. “I dinnae ken.”
“Coward.”
“About that? Aye, straight down to the bone.” He smiled faintly when the doctor laughed.
* * *
Abbie slowed her step as she approached Julia’s bed in the cell. She had run all the way from the infirmary but her step had lagged once she reached the door of the jail. She had nursed a spark of hope all the way to the jail but it had begun to die as she neared the place. Now it completely died. The scent of death lingered over Julia and she was as pale as any still living person Abbie had ever seen.
“Thank you for getting the doctor to come,” said Julia as she tried to hold out her child to Abbie. “Please, take him.”
Taking the child, Abbie held him cradled in one arm and sat on the edge of the bed to clasp Julia’s cold hand. “The doctor said you were anxious to talk to me.”
“Yes. I know I am dying and there is something I have to settle before I go join my Robert.” She shook her head when Abbie started to speak. “No, I know the truth, Abbie. The doctor was very kind, but he did not try to hide the truth from me. I want you to raise my boy. Take him. He will be an orphan soon. You will do that, won’t you?”
Abbie did not know what to say. She was a young, unmarried woman. How could she raise a child? She did not even have a place to live.
“Abbie, promise me. Promise me you will care for my boy.”
“As best I can, Julia,” she finally said, prompted by the woman’s growing agitation.
“Thank you. It makes it easier to let go. The address for his family is in with my things so maybe you could send them word?”
“I will. Do not worry on that.”
“Good. They lost their son and may be pleased to know he lives on in his boy.” She struggled to reach out and was finally able to smooth her hand over her baby’s head. “Be a good boy for Abbie.”
Julia closed her eyes before Abbie could say anything more. It was a huge responsibility Julia was setting in her lap. Abigail had no idea how she was supposed to take care of a newborn. The woman’s hand slipped off the child and when Abigail looked back at Julia’s face, she sighed. There was no arguing the matter now. The woman was very close to dying. Abbie sat watch and a few minutes later she knew her friend was gone.
Getting up, she turned toward the women and saw them all watching her. “We best prepare her for burial now.”
Maude walked over and looked at the baby. “How are you going to care for a child?”
“I have no idea, but it was what she wanted. Her dying wish, if you will, so how can I do anything but what she asked? Now is not the time to think on it though.”
“No, it isn’t.” Maude looked back at the other women. “Come along, ladies. Let us get her ready. Never seen a woman so eager to join her husband.”
Neither had Abigail. She could not help but wonder if that need to be with Robert had aided in Julia’s death. The woman had not really had any great need to stay alive, had no fight in her. Not even her child had changed her mind as Abbie had hoped it would.
When it was finally safe again and time to take Julia to the graveyard, Abbie briefly wished they had a minister, but the man had fled to save his own skin. Wrapping the child up warmly, she followed the women out to the graveyard, Maude and Rose carrying Julia’s body. She gave a start when she saw two soldiers finishing the digging of a grave next to Robert’s. They nodded at the women politely and quietly went to stand near the trees ringing the graveyard.
Mrs. Beaton set a large basket by Abbie’s feet and she settled the baby in it. She then turned her attention to saying a final farewell to her friend. She wished they had a coffin, but there were none around and no one to make one. The man who did such work had been killed in the first attack on the town.
When Rose said a rather beautiful prayer then sang, Abigail had to swallow hard to keep from weeping. Then the men returned to bury her friend. She picked up the babe and found one standing right in front of her.
“How did you know to come and do this?”
“The doc sent us.”
“That was good of him.”
“We’ll mark a wooden cross for her, ma’am,” he said quietly.
“Thank you. I was just wondering how to get one put up. She was Robert’s wife, a mother, and only twenty-three.”
“A sad business this. You should ask the major if there is any money for a soldier’s widow even if only Robert’s pay that he didn’t collect.”
She nodded and made her way back to the house. It took some time to find a source of milk for the baby and a way to give it to him but fortunately Mrs. Beaton kept a few goats and one had just birthed a kid. By then the baby was sound asleep and Abbie felt it would be acceptable if she left for a little while to see how Matthew was doing.
A tickle of guilt struck her and she frowned. It was sad that she was able to go and see the man she loved but Julia never could have. Then she abruptly stopped and thought over what she had just accidentally confessed to herself. She loved Matthew MacEnroy. It was past time she stopped playing and do something about it.
But what could she do? she thought. It was not the woman’s place to speak or push the man to speak. She certainly had no idea how to nudge him to speak or even if he felt the same way. It seemed the only thing she could do was just what she had been doing, even if it was breaking a lot of rules. She would continue to show him, in all ways she could, that she cared and hope he would finally speak of how he felt. Unsatisfactory as that solution was, it irritated and she marched into the infirmary.