LITMIR.BIZ

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wouldn’t speak. Poor Sally...but why would Stephen have been reported as ‘missing’?”

      “A misidentification, I suppose.”

      “Then it’s likely he is buried somewhere on the battlefield?”

      “I would imagine.”

      Sorrow fell over them both like a shroud. The sound of wounded soldiers groaning echoed through the halls. An armed sentinel passed by on his way to duty, and they could hear an officer shouting orders on the floor below.

      “Private Stone saw him fall,” Emily said. “He told me the entire story.”

      “What did he say?”

      She explained what she had learned. When Emily got to the part about Maryland men fighting their own neighbors, in some cases their own flesh and blood, all color drained from Julia’s face.

      “Gracious,” she breathed. “Edward chose to fight in defense of his state and now battle lines have forced him to fire upon our own citizens? Does he know this?”

      “Apparently so. Private Stone says Edward feels responsible. He overheard him remark it was all his fault.”

      Julia wiped her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. Emily dabbed at her own eyes with her apron. The sights and sounds of war continued to swirl around them.

      “We need to tell Sally,” Julia finally said.

      “Yes.” Though Emily dreaded having to be the one to do so, she volunteered anyway.

      “No,” Julia said. “It should come from me. I will tell her when she returns. Do you think Private Stone would mind if I spoke with him? I would like to hear the story for myself.”

      “I don’t believe he would.” Emily paused. “There was one other thing.” She told Julia how Private Stone had asked her to deliver a message to Edward. “But I am not certain now that I should.”

      “What kind of message?”

      As Emily explained, tears spilled over Julia’s long, dark lashes. “Tell my brother what the soldier said.”

      “Are you certain?”

      “Yes. I believe it will help.”

      They both turned back for the ward. Emily introduced Julia to Rob, then stopped to check on Billy. Crushed ice had been placed around his neck. Dr. Mackay was nowhere in sight, but Jeremiah Wainwright was sitting at the soldier’s bedside. Emily asked if he had need of any assistance. When the steward politely declined, she moved on to Edward.

      Her friend was staring at the dust-covered rafters above him. She surveyed his tight bandages but only with her eyes. Then she poured him a fresh cup of water and drew close. All he did was blink.

      Setting the cup aside, Emily quietly moved in closer. “Edward,” she said softly. “I understand that you do not wish to speak to me or to Julia right now, but know that we are here should you change your mind.”

      She waited, hoping for a response of any kind. There was none.

      “And know this...God waits patiently, as well.”

      His lips tightened into a thin line. His jaw twitched. It was the first real indication he had given that he was listening to anything she said.

      Emily leaned a little closer. She could see the pain in his eyes. Her heart ached for him. He had been her schoolmate, her childhood friend. He had teased her and tugged at her curls. She had once bandaged his wrist when he’d cut a gash in it after jumping from the tree in her backyard.

      I mended his wound then, but how do I do so now? How does one even begin to ease the guilt a soldier feels over the death of his friend?

      There was no change in his eyes, but she felt compelled to continue. “Private Stone asked me to deliver a message to you....”

      Slowly, his eyes shifted from the rafters to her. Emily drew hope from the movement.

      “He said to tell you that you are the best man he has ever served under, and he would be proud to do so again.”

      What she’d hoped would bring encouragement had just the opposite effect. Edward’s jaw clenched and Emily watched helplessly as his eyes welled up with tears.

      He shook his head no.

      Her heart squeezed as she whispered, “I know what happened on Culp’s Hill. I know what happened to Stephen...to the other Maryland men.”

      “It was...my fault...Emmy.”

      His voice was distant, defeated, but he had referred to her by her childhood name, a memory of a happier time. She used his, as well.

      “No, Eddie. You mustn’t blame yourself. We are at war. Terrible things happen. There was nothing you could do—”

      “How dare you!”

      Emily felt the blood drain from her face. She need not wonder who had spoken the fierce words. She already knew. How long Dr. Mackay had been standing behind her and how much of the conversation he had heard, she was not certain, but it had been long enough to rouse his fury. Swallowing hard, she turned. He stood towering above her, fists clenched at his sides.

      “What do you think you are doing?”

      When she didn’t answer immediately, he pointed to the door.

      “Get outside!”

      Emily chanced a glance at Edward. Just as she had feared, the blank stare had returned. I have made things worse.

      Torn between comforting her friend and following the doctor’s orders, she hesitated. She shouldn’t have.

      “Now, Nurse!”

      Emily’s legs were as wobbly as a freshly cooked batch of mint jelly and walking the distance to the doorway seemed to take an eternity. All around her, the wounded stared, surely wondering what was about to happen. Even the Federal guard at the entryway showed sympathy on his face. Emily wasn’t afraid of Dr. Mackay physically, but she feared that he in his position of authority would hinder her from ministering to the Confederate men.

      She stepped outside. He was immediately on her heels, catching the hem of her skirt with his long stride. Emily turned to free herself before his clumsiness ripped the fabric. Losing her footing, she was captured by his massive hands.

      “You little rebel!”

      “Unhand me, sir!” she commanded.

      He did but only to stick a long, sharp finger in her face. “I will not have that kind of talk in my ward! Do you understand? How dare you tell that dirty Johnny it isn’t his fault! They started this war! The blood of thousands is on their heads!”

      Emily sucked in her breath, fire building inside her. Her parents had raised her to be respectful, to be gentle. She had never been one to argue before, but this man, this Yankee, brought out a fierceness she didn’t know existed.

      “They started this war? I beg to differ with you, sir. It was your soldiers who opened fire upon our civilians, and that is why a good many of these men took up arms in the first place! They wished to defend our state from tyrants like you!”

      He looked shocked. Surely no woman had ever talked this way to him before. His eyes then narrowed. “I assume you are referring to the riot on Pratt Street.”

      “I am.”

      “Then you had better get your facts straight.”

      Emily held her ground. “Oh, I am completely aware of the facts, Doctor. Major Stanton and his sister, her husband as well, were caught in that riot.”

      “Aye. That explains quite a bit. All of you are as guilty as sin.”

      Her blood was boiling. How dare he speak that way about her friends! “They are guilty of nothing more than meeting the Philadelphia train. Julia was nearly trampled to

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