I make my face stone and walk fast toward the tents. Mrs. Chalmers struggles to keep my pace. When we are far enough from Captain, I whirl on her, keeping my voice quiet and steady in case anybody takes notice.
‘I’ve got to stop by my camp. Tell my people I’m coming back. I thought I was in trouble for sure.’ Her hand flies to cover her mouth, her face even more pale beneath the brim of her hat. I turn away and keep marching.
‘I’m sorry. I was only thinking of those poor soldiers—and it isn’t possible to go on my own—’ She scurries to keep pace alongside me.
Maybe I oughtn’t be talking to the Captain’s wife like she ain’t nothing different than me, but the hot words and all my mad and worry just spit from my mouth.
‘You don’t need an escort! If you were of a mind, you could go and help them any time you please.’
From the set of her mouth and the tears coming, she ain’t used to being spoke to like that, and I think to apologize but we are close enough that Jeremiah sees me from the stump he is sitting on, my stump.
‘Ross!’ He yells for me and runs down the aisle. The relief on his face is clear as a full moon. ‘What happened?’ He comes as if to hug me, but I put my arms straight out to his shoulders and stop him from knocking clean into me.
‘I’ve got orders to escort Mrs. Chalmers to Judiciary Square Hospital and help the wounded. We aim to be back after supper.’
Jeremiah stands a bit straighter when he sees Mrs. Chalmers in the aisle behind me.
‘Thank the Lord,’ Jeremiah breathes, and he looks at Ambrose sitting at the fire next to where we’ve stopped before taking my arm and leading me back to the boys at our tent, Mrs. Chalmers hanging back.
‘I thought—we all thought—’ Jeremiah says.
‘Well, it ain’t that, not yet if I can help it.’
I give Jeremiah’s shoulder a pat and he says, ‘You had me worried,’ so low I almost think the words slipped out of his mouth without his knowing.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I say, letting my fingers trail for a moment along his arm and my eyes pull after his like they are on a string. As I turn away, Sully pokes Henry in the ribs and holds out his hand, making Henry’s face go sour. That is when I know those two have taken bets on me staying or going.
CHAPTER
14
JUDICIARY SQUARE HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON, D.C.: APRIL 1862
Walking with Mrs. Chalmers puts me in mind of the day Betsy came giggling out the schoolyard gate, all bound up in a knot of girls.
‘We’re walking home the long way,’ Betsy announced.
‘I got chores waiting at home, I ain’t got time—’ I didn’t even finish when I heard Carrie’s voice calling.
‘Betsy! Only proper girls can promenade down Carlisle Street. If you want to come, you better not let Rosetta rub off on you!’
‘I’m coming!’ Betsy called over her shoulder. ‘See you at home, Rosetta. Tell Mama I won’t be long,’ and then she was running after the girls who were already parading down the street, every girl but me, Harmony, and Ida, who were long gone and wouldn’t put me in good company anyway.
I wheeled away from the schoolhouse and started walking on the road, my thoughts blacker than the shine on a beetle.
At the turn for home, I heard giggling again and when I rounded the corner there was Betsy and Tillie and Kitty.
‘What are you doing here? I thought you were promenading through town,’ I said, making my voice sweet.
Betsy didn’t answer. She was too busy looking off at the trees lining Cadagan’s fence.
I heard giggling holding itself in when Tillie said, ‘We didn’t think it’d be right letting you walk home alone.’
The three of them had their skirts tucked up like when I do chores, even Betsy, who was still watching the trees. There was a flash of white, and Carrie and Myra came stepping out of them trees with their skirts up too.
I put my chin up and marched past those girls, right on past Carrie, my only thought on getting home to the barn, to the cows, to Papa laughing at me making one trip with all the buckets. They fell in behind me. The line of five girls snorting, Carrie at the head, Betsy at the tail, swinging their arms wide and taking big steps in their splitting skirts. Every nice feeling I almost had for Betsy up and went clean out of my head.
I moved so fast, crashing into Carrie and knocking her flat out in the road, but she weren’t the one I wanted to push down. There was roaring in my ears like underwater and I grabbed Betsy’s arm and shoved her to the ground, pinning her shoulders under my knees. There was shrieking and crying and someone pulling at me but I didn’t pay that any mind.
A voice yelled, ‘Don’t you never speak to me again, you Benedict Arnold!’ and it was my voice saying, ‘It’s a shame you’re so ugly, Betsy, when you’re the only girl in the family, ain’t it?’
Then I was down the road marching for home with those girls’ screaming in my ears and the only thought in my head was how even Papa’s belt couldn’t hurt so bad.