“We’re already south.”
“Obviously not the right part. They are already packing up things so think it must be true. Rumor is there is going to be a hard drive into the enemy’s lands in an attempt to end all this. The army in Virginia needs more men. Thinking this is going to take a long time to end as there are a lot of places where there is fighting. This area will be slow to let it go. Still a lot of Reb soldiers in the area or Reb sympathizers.”
“Already feels as if this war has gone on too long.”
“Much too long,” said the doctor as he walked up and began to check Matthew’s wounds, “and the hate and resentment will last even longer. Always does.”
“That’s cheerful news.”
“Realistic news. I studied a lot of history. Fascinating subject.” He glanced at Matthew. “Or are all you Scots close friends with the English?”
Matthew glared at James who just laughed. He then caught sight of Abbie pausing to talk to Boyd who still could not move his arm and helped out at the infirmary where he could. She looked a strange mixture of annoyed and deeply saddened.
“Ah, Julia was interred a little while ago.”
“Interred? Listen to our doc with his fancy words,” said James and laughed when the man glared at him.
“You should hit him for that. Hard. Set him straight,” urged Matthew and then grinned. “Right in that big smile he is always flashing.” He laughed along with the doctor but then winced as that also pulled at his stitches.
“Just thought you ought to be warned,” the doctor said to Matthew.
“Ah, aye. I could read it on her face.” He nodded toward where Abbie still talked with Boyd. “Since I am wounded and bed-bound”—he rubbed his forehead to try and chase away a throbbing headache—“I thought she would be gentle even if her mood was sour.”
“Such naivete,” the doctor murmured. “We’re moving out soon. Day or two at the most.”
“What about the people in the town?” asked James.
“I am afraid they will be left to fend for themselves or leave for someplace they believe will be safer. You”—the doctor pointed at Matthew—“will be and so will Boyd. No need to drag either of you to a new posting when you are both wounded as you are. So you can go home.”
“That could prove a dangerous journey”—he rubbed his bandaged arm—“especially since I wouldnae be able to shoot nor would Boyd.”
“Then I will speak to the major as soon as I can and he’ll send one able-bodied soldier with you.”
“I’ll just meander over there with you, Harvey,” said James.
“Hey, how did ye ken his name?” asked Matthew.
“I asked.” James turned to smile at Abbie as she walked over. “How do, Miss Abbie. Sorry about your friend.”
“Yes, it was a sad waste. Thank you.”
She watched the doctor and James walk away and then sat down on the edge of Matthew’s bed. “Why are you rubbing your head?”
“Headache, and it is getting worse, so let me apologize now if I get a wee bit snappish.”
She grinned. “I think I can survive.”
“I am sorry about Julia, Abbie.” He took her hand in his and brushed his thumb over the back of it.
“She was the first friend I made in this place.” She shook her head. “Since I left Pennsylvania, too.”
“I think Rose and Maude like you well enough.”
“Oh, they do, but they are a bit older, have lived more, and all that. Julia and I had a more common ground to work on. Perhaps that is why she chose me.”
“Chose you? For what?”
“To care for her son.” She smiled faintly at the way his eyes widened with shock. “She made me promise. So, I fear I am no longer a simple country lass”—she grinned—“to go for a stroll with. I am a mother now. Julia even made out a rough will, had it signed by some of the other women too, naming me the boy’s guardian. I also promised to try and contact Robert’s family.”
“Ye think they might want the bairn?”
“They might, but Julia made no allowances for that, and if they take a long time to come around, I may not want to oblige them, either. Then I have to wonder why she didn’t mention them or choose them for her baby. She gave me no warning about them. It is a puzzle I will have to solve when and if it arises.” Abigail frowned when he let go of her hand to yank the blanket over himself. “Are you cold?”
“Just a wee bit chilly. Guess winter hasnae completely left us yet.”
He closed his eyes and Abbie frowned, unable to hide her concern. When she saw the flush grow on his cheeks and beads of sweat form on his forehead, she knew her concern was warranted. Standing up and looking around, she spotted the doctor and waved him over. The man hesitated, glanced at another wounded man, and then hurried to her side.
“Ask quickly as I need to tend to a man with an infection forming,” he said.
“I think Matthew is getting feverish.” She tried to speak calmly but knew some of her growing fear must have leaked into her voice when the doctor patted her on the shoulder before checking on Matthew.
“Definitely a fever starting, but it might not get too high. It’s not unusual for a wounded man to run a fever. After all, his body just took a severe battering. Get a bucket of cool water and some rags to wash him down. Check his wounds now and then for any hint of infection and he should recover from this. He was astonishingly healthy before he went down.”
She watched as he hurried back to the other wounded man. Moving quickly she got a bucket of cool water and several rags. She was proud that the doctor trusted her to do what was needed but she dearly wished he could have stayed to supervise anyway, or simply help. It was not just any man she was going to work to heal, it was Matthew. She wanted all the skill and power the good doctor could bestow.
Dipping a rag into the water, she then wrung it out and gently bathed his face. By the time she had wiped his neck and shoulders the cloth was no longer cool. The increasing fever heat in his body had almost dried it out. She did it again with close to the same result. Next she wiped the cloth over his arms and chest twice before doing the same for his legs and feet.
As she wet the cloth again she thought over things she had read in her father’s books, ones saved from when he had trained to be a doctor. Her mother had hated her looking through such books but her father had often sat with her explaining what she had read and the pictures. She knew all the places where a wound to them could prove fatal, because the person would bleed out. He had thought it good knowledge for her to have in case she was attacked when she had no gun.
She rested her fingers against the vein in his neck and felt the strong pulse there. Then she checked his wrists. Pausing to check his shoulder wound and seeing no hint of infection, she then checked his leg wound and decided it was also clean. As carefully as she could, she folded the sheet down to study the wound on his stomach. Then she ripped two rags into strips, wet them, and laid them over his neck, wrists, and ankles.