Faith (29 page)

Faith sat down on one box, weak with sudden relief. “Thee doesn’t know how much we need the smallest thing.” She drew in a deep breath, suppressing the urge to open every box immediately.

“Where is my namesake?” Honor asked, looking around at the tents. The drummer sounded supper call nearby.

“Honoree will be back soon, I’m sure.” Faith guessed that Honoree had taken advantage of the low patient numbers in the hospital tent to seek out Armstrong. They were spending more and more time together.

Faith glanced up to find her mother staring at her, worry in the lines of her face. Faith hoped her mother would not join Colonel Knight in urging her to go home and leave her duties and the search for Shiloh behind. The knife attack had only highlighted why she must find and free Shiloh.

Drawn against his will, Dev sought out Faith’s tent late the next evening. He’d been out on patrol all day. Carroll’s Rangers were harassing the railroad, and Dev’s job was to stop him. He only wished he had succeeded.

Dev had one goal this evening. If they hadn’t tried yet, he would attempt to persuade Faith’s parents to take her and Honoree home with them. When he reached their tent, he found Dr. Bryant had also come to meet the Cathwells. The group, including Faith, sat in front of her tent on camp stools and wooden boxes.

In greeting, Dr. Bryant saluted Dev, and he returned the
salute. Dev bowed to Faith’s parents, pulling the brim of his hat in their direction.

“Your daughter is such an asset to our patients,” Dr. Bryant was saying.

Dev noticed that Faith had positioned herself so that the side of her face bearing the scar was pointed away from the rest of the group.

“We are grateful she is of help,” Faith’s mother said, still spelling the words with her fingers. “She and her late sister always had the gift of healing. Even as children they brought home injured birds and pets of other children.”

“I did the same as a child,” Dr. Bryant said. “If your daughter had been born a man, she would have made a good doctor.”

“I agree.”

“Well, I must go back to the hospital.” Dr. Bryant stood.

Dev began to marshal his arguments to persuade Faith’s parents to do for her what he wished.

After shaking hands with the Cathwells, Dr. Bryant turned.

Just then, Landon McCullough rushed forward, his wife, Ella, in his arms. “Dr. Bryant!” he called. The corporal halted, panting. “My wife’s
 
—” He swallowed.

Faith leaped to her feet, instantly looking worried. “Bring her into our tent.” She waved the young man through the open flap.

Dev moved forward in case he was needed but stopped outside the entrance.

Faith pointed to her cot, and Landon laid his wife down. Dr. Bryant came in after them, followed by Honor Cathwell.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Landon said, backing away to let the doctor draw near to his wife. “She just said she was feelin’ poorly and then she started bleedin’. . . . Is she losin’ the babe?”

Honor moved to stand near Landon while Faith and Dr. Bryant attended to the young woman.

Just outside the opening, Dev tightened his jaw. No one had told him Ella was expecting.

“Are you having any abdominal pain?” Dr. Bryant asked the girl.

“Yes, cramping,” Ella whimpered.

Faith claimed Ella’s hand and began murmuring softly to her. She looked to her mother. “Why doesn’t thee take Corporal McCullough outside? It’s crowded in here.”

Honor touched the corporal’s shoulder. “Will thee come with me? We’ll just sit outside while the good doctor examines thy wife. All right?”

Dev moved away from the entrance to let them pass.

“Yes, ma’am.” Landon followed her outside and sat where she indicated on one of the boxes.

“Corporal McCullough,” Dev said, “these are Miss Faith’s parents. Mr. and Mrs. Cathwell came down from Cincinnati with supplies.”

The young man managed to nod to them and doff his hat belatedly.

Honor poured him a cup of coffee from the kettle sitting on the fire nearby. “Would thee tell us about thy family?” She asked the question no doubt to give the young man something good to think about, not knowing the truth about his situation.

“Got no family, no home.” He looked near tears as he
accepted the cup. “All I got left is the army and Ella.” He looked toward the closed tent flap.

“The war forced thee from thy home?” Honor went on, standing so she blocked the entrance to the tent.

Still trying to distract the young man, Dev thought.

“Yes, ma’am. Americans should stick together, not secede. But we had to leave home over secession and now Ella’s in the family way and we’re in the midst of the war.”

“Well, Faith’s father and I will be going home tomorrow on the northbound train,” Honor said. “Would thee like to send Ella home with us? If she’s able to travel?”

The young corporal upset his cup, spilling some coffee. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” Honor signed to her husband, who nodded firmly and gestured. “My husband says she is welcome, most welcome.”

“I wouldn’t send my wife with just anybody,” Landon said earnestly, “but Miss Faith is known for her kindness and honesty.”

“We are glad to hear it, though not surprised,” Honor said.

“I was hoping,” Dev began, sensing the time had come to broach his purpose for coming tonight, “that you’d take Miss Faith home with you too. She’s not in the same health as before her wounding, and we’ll be in winter before you know it.”

He looked to them pleadingly, trying to convey to them how bad wintering with an army could be. “Winter camp conditions are harsh and could break her health for the rest of her life.”
Or kill her.

“Colonel Knight,” Honor said, “we would love to take
Faith and Honoree home tomorrow. But they are adults and must make their own decisions. I will try to persuade her, but . . .” She raised and dropped her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness.

Then she watched her husband’s hands and chuckled. “My husband says Faith takes after me. Stubborn.” She took a seat beside him.

Dev wanted to rail at them. But they were civilians; they had no idea what their daughter faced in the coming winter.

“I think you should try to convince her,” Landon said. “I been prayin’ for a way to get Ella somewhere safe.”

“Some way,” Honor repeated. “Quakers say, ‘Way will open.’ That means we should pray, and God will open a way, some way.”

Landon drew in a long breath. “I believe that now. You are a godsend, ma’am.”

“What’s happening?” Honoree approached through the surrounding tents with Armstrong at her side.

Dev rose, as did Faith’s father, who greeted Honoree with hand signs. She signed back to him and said aloud, “This is Armstrong.”

“Thy young man?” Honor moved forward, her hand outstretched.

“Ma’am, sir.” Armstrong removed his hat and shook their hands. “A pleasure.”

During this exchange, Landon slipped nearer the tent.

Honor explained Ella’s condition to Honoree.

“I’m sorry she’s having difficulties,” Honoree said.

“If she’s not able to travel tomorrow,” Honor said, “we’ll remain a few days longer.”

“I’m afraid, ma’am,” Dev spoke up, “the army has unloaded all the supplies and we move on the morrow. Please consider what I said about taking Miss Faith and Honoree home with you. I don’t want them to suffer the rigors of winter camp.”

“Faith and I won’t go home till we find Shiloh,” Honoree said flatly.

The doctor came out and went directly to Landon. “I think your young lady is going to be fine. Nothing serious. But she must not be moved tonight. Nurse Cathwell invited her to stay here.”

“Can I see her now?” Landon asked.

“Go right in,” Faith said, emerging. The young man slipped inside and she let the flap drop, giving him and his wife some privacy.

Dev couldn’t help himself. He stared at Faith. The desire to take her hand, pull her close, and kiss her . . . He stopped his mind there.

“Faith, we’ll be taking Ella home tomorrow,” Honor said and signed. “Colonel Knight tells us the army is moving forward in the morning.”

Faith merely nodded.

“The colonel has also tried to persuade us that thee should leave with us.” Honor gazed intently at her daughter.

“Mother,” Faith said, “I will be honest. I know I am better, but not completely well
 
—”

“Exactly,” Dr. Bryant interrupted. “I think you should go home, Nurse Cathwell. We all need a furlough from time to time.”

“I just can’t,” Faith said, sitting on the nearest box. “I must stay the course.”

Dev wanted to break the ensuing silence but didn’t. He had no responsibility for Faith. Or the right to order her to do anything. He’d been certain her parents would insist she come home with them. And now, with her own admission of weakness . . .

“Thee is thy own woman, Faith,” Honor said with obvious reluctance. “But I am older than thee and must say that if thee doesn’t take care of thyself, going on like this could do lasting harm to thy health. Thy youthful vigor will wane soon enough.”

“That is the truth,” Dr. Bryant agreed. “But they are young and don’t realize how quickly it can go, never to return.”

Dev thought of his own vitality in his first war. But he still could push himself when he must, and he definitely didn’t have to worry about the future. A minié ball or a sniper bullet would get him one of these skirmishes.

“I am listening to this advice,” Faith said, “but while I am yet able, I will stay. A soldier
 
—” she looked straight into Dev’s eyes
 
—“would not be discharged over this slight wound.” She touched her cheek.

But you’re a woman, a lady.
Dev held in a burst of angry words. He couldn’t take this. “Then I will bid you all good night.” He turned and walked swiftly away.

Faith watched Colonel Knight stride off. He was angry with her. Like most men, he thought her weak. Well, she was in some ways, but not in all ways. Just because she couldn’t swing an ax with as much force as he did not make her weak.

Dr. Bryant bade everyone good night and left too.
Landon came out and excused himself, said he would go to his tent and pack up Ella’s valise. That left Faith, her parents, Honoree, and Armstrong by the fire.

“Now that almost everyone has gone, please sit and tell us about thyself, Armstrong.” Honor motioned toward the boxes.

Honoree and Armstrong sat down side by side. Faith left them and went in to Ella.

The sad-eyed girl rolled onto her side and looked pitifully toward Faith.

She hurried forward and, perching on the wooden frame of the cot, claimed Ella’s small, cold hand. “Thee is going to be all right. Dr. Bryant said the bleeding was minor, and all was well.”

“Landon said . . .” The girl swallowed tears. “. . . said I’m going home with your parents.”

“Yes, and, Ella, I believe this is best. My parents are good and kind people, and they will take the very best care of thee.”

“I know.” The girl swiped away tears with the back of her hand. “I just don’t want to leave Landon. He’s all I got.”

“That isn’t true. Thee has the child thee is carrying.”

Ella fought tears. “Landon said he wanted me away from this camp and . . .”

“It’s for the best,” Faith said, stroking a stray hair away from Ella’s face. “Landon loves thee and wants thee safe and cared for.”

“That’s real love,” Ella said, “isn’t it?”

Faith recalled the colonel trying to persuade her parents to take her home and saw it in a new light. She and the colonel
would not talk of love, not here and not now. Maybe never. But she realized now that prejudice against her as a woman had not prompted his words to her parents. It was how he’d shown that he cared about her.

Faith patted Ella’s shoulder and continued stroking her hair into place. She softly prayed for the baby and for Ella. And silently for Devlin Knight.

Tomorrow she would trek onward with the hospital wagons, and he would no doubt go out on patrol, and either one of them could be picked off by a bushwhacker. She hurried that thought away and let Ella cling to her hand and weep. A war was no time or place to fall in love.