Shannon Farrington - An Unlikely Union

“Edward,” she said softly. “It is me, Emily.”

His blue eyes, once so gallant and full of life, were now vacant, almost spiritless. He blinked but did not acknowledge her presence.

“Are you in any pain?”

He blinked again. Emily’s heart was breaking. She knew Julia’s was, as well. She dared not look to her grief-stricken face. Emily knew if she did, she herself would break down. I have to remain strong. I am here to give comfort, not to be in need of it myself.

Carefully, methodically, she felt his forehead. He was much cooler. Thank You, Lord.

“Here,” Emily said to him. “Let me fetch you something to drink. I am certain you are thirsty.”

She reached for a nearby pitcher and filled a tin cup with water. She offered it to him, but Edward simply stared past her, no reply. By now Emily was beginning to wonder if he was even aware of her presence.

Perhaps it is the effects of the ether. She set the cup on the table, peered closely into his face. Edward’s eyes registered a startled reaction. They held hers for a quick second, then pulled away. In that brief time Emily saw a storm of emotions there.

He is aware of his reality, she thought. All too well.

There were times when it was wise to draw a man out of his solitude, but Emily sensed this was not one of them. She could only guess what Edward had witnessed on the battlefield, what actions had led him to this place. She wanted to ask about Stephen but knew there would be time for questions later.

She brushed her fingers gently through his hair. “Perhaps you will feel up to taking water later on. For now, just rest.”

Still he only blinked. Emily drew the sheet to his chest, mindful of his bandages, then moved to the side of the bed where Julia stood. She stared pitifully at her brother’s back. Emily gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Try not to be discouraged,” she whispered. “He is alert and the fever has broken.”

Julia nodded slowly but her face was as pale as January snow. “Will you send for our father?”

“Of course. Straightaway.” Emily agreed with her friend’s assessment. Edward needed his family now.

She moved toward the door. Sally was peeking through it.

“Is he awake?” she asked the moment Emily stepped into the corridor.

“Yes.”

Sally breathed a shallow sigh. “Is he speaking? Did he mention Stephen?”

Emily did not wish to upset her, but she knew the truth was best. If she were in Sally’s place, she would want to know.

“I am afraid he has not spoken at all. That is why I did not think it wise to ask about Stephen just yet. The battle seems to have damaged not only Edward’s body but his mind, as well.”

Her chin began to quiver.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said gently.

Sally quickly wiped her eyes and garnered her composure. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Julia requested that we send for her father.”

“I will see to that.”

“Can you manage? We could ask one of the other volunteers.”

Sally shook her head. “Dr. Turner will not mind. He has a soft spot for me. He knows Edward is our friend, and he told me if I had need of anything only to ask.”

Thank the Lord for small kindnesses, Emily thought.

“Tell Julia I will be as quick as I can.” She turned and descended the staircase. Emily quickly went back to the ward. Dr. Mackay had also returned.

“Nurse!” he called, waving her over.

I do have a name, she thought.

Nevertheless, she went to him. He was in the process of resetting a Virginia man’s broken leg. Having placed the limb in the fracture box, Dr. Mackay handed her a small sack. It looked as if it had come from the hospital kitchen.

“Fill the box with oat bran. It will support the leg and collect any further drainage from the wound.”

“Yes, Dr. Mackay.”

Emily promptly went to work, trying her best to smile at the wounded Virginian while ignoring the scowling Federal doctor beside her. When she finished the task, she looked to him. She expected another order, but he simply grunted and moved on to the next man.

She went back to Edward.

Her friend still lay with his back to his sister. Julia held her place in the chair beside him, a palmetto fan in one hand, a Bible in the other. She waved the fan faithfully over his head while she sought her own comfort in Scripture.

Emily watched them for a moment, but when Julia made no gesture or request she quietly backed away. Concern weighed heavily upon her. Edward’s mind-set was disturbing. She had seen some soldiers following the battle of Antietam who had recovered physically from their wounds but were never able to reenter life. When the memories of mortar shells and musket fire became too vivid, they often retreated into dark, private worlds, where no loved one or enemy could ever find them again.

“The water pitchers need to be filled,” she heard Dr. Mackay say as he brushed past her.

For a moment Emily considered reporting her observations but she realized any competent physician would have already recognized Edward’s condition. If she spoke up it would seem that she doubted his skills. She dare not call his judgment into question—at least not yet. For now, Emily thought it best just to keep her eye on her friend and stay out of the ill-tempered doctor’s way.

Chapter Two

All meals were now finished. Emily helped Jeremiah and the orderlies remove the last of the men’s food trays. Afterward she changed three dressings, then wrote a letter for another Maryland man.

As soon as she had completed that task, Freddy was brought in from surgery. He was already awake, sick to his stomach and shivering with fever. Emily was thankful he was still alive, but it grieved her to see him suffering so. She sat beside him with a basin and repeatedly wiped his face as he emptied what precious little was in his stomach. When the violence finally subsided, she settled him in his bed, then went to comfort Jimmy, who had been watching the entire time.

“He gonna be all right, Miss Emily? Will the sickness pass soon?”

“It will,” she promised. “In fact, his eyes are already clearing.”

“That’s good.” He fell back to his pillow. “Thank you for prayin’ for him. It’s hard seein’ him without his leg, but I’m real grateful the Good Lord’s left him here with me.”

“Indeed, Jimmy. So am I.”

She tucked him in and moved on. The day had been long and difficult. Fatigue slowed her steps and worry darkened her mind.

Where is Sally’s brother? she wondered. Is he misplaced in one of the field hospitals? Has he been captured or is he wandering around somewhere cut off from the Confederate army?

“Lord, please bring Stephen home. Please comfort Edward—”

“Miss Emily?”

She turned to see Private Robert Stone, another Maryland man, looking at her. Emily immediately went to him. A minié ball had shattered his right knee.

“Are you in pain?” she asked.

“No, miss. I’m alright. I just heard you praying for Major Stanton and Captain Hastings.”

Emily blushed. She had not meant to speak the prayer aloud. I must be more careful. She was, after all, a volunteer in a Federal army hospital. There were many here who would disapprove of her prayers for Confederate soldiers.

“I know the major’s not doing so well,” Rob said. “I think perhaps, well...I think he feels responsible.”

Her skin prickled. Responsible? She sat down on the edge of his bed. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I think he feels responsible for the captain and the others.”

Emily’s pulse quickened. This was the first time anyone had mentioned Sally’s brother. Did Rob know what had become of him? She glanced about for Dr. Mackay. If Stephen was hiding out somewhere, she didn’t want that man or anyone else in blue to know.