The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 (9 page)

“I was a cavalryman, all right, lady,” he grinned, enjoying the attention. “I rode with the best of ’em. I was hot on the tail of old Jeff Davis himself when a Johnny Reb that wouldn’t believe the war was over took a pot shot at me.”

“Were you in Goldsboro when General Sherman first marched in?” Kitty could hardly contain herself, and her body began to tremble nervously. “Were you with his cavalrymen at the battle of Bentonville?”

He laughed. Damn-a-bear if the filly wasn’t shaking, she was so impressed. He felt himself swell to bursting and made no effort to hide the bulge in the sheet. Let her see it. Let her know. Maybe she had so much admiration for cavalrymen that she wouldn’t mind doing something about his needs. No one was looking. It was a fact that the dashing horsemen always impressed the young ladies. “Yeah, I was there all right, honey.” He reached out and caught her wrist, pulling her hand toward him, as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I swear if you aren’t the prettiest thing I’ve seen around here.”

She twisted out of his grasp, stepping back quickly. “You don’t understand, sir.” She made her voice steady. “I want information about a captain who rides with General Sherman. Captain Travis Coltrane. Do you know him?”

The soldier’s smile faded. “I might have known. I heard about Coltrane’s woman.” He sighed, thinking of all he had missed out on. What a fool Coltrane had been to leave her. “He was my captain. He’s chasing Davis now, with the rest of the men. They might have caught him by now. I don’t know.”

“But is he well?” she persisted.

“Coltrane?” He snorted. “I don’t think a grizzly bear could kill that son of a gun. I should have known you were the one they talked about, the rest of the men. Hair like early morning sunshine. Eyes that dance with fire. A shape that could drive a man to insanity.”

Kitty felt herself blush. She took another step backward. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “It’s just that you are lovely, miss. As for Captain Coltrane, I wouldn’t worry none if I were you. He’s as fit as he’s ever been. He’s one of the best officers the Union has. Just because the war is supposed to be over, he won’t be asking for a discharge to get out of all the dirty clean-up work.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, cheeks still warm. “And Sam Bucher? Is he well, too? He was such a good friend.”

“You can believe that he rides beside Coltrane every step of the way. Yes, lovely lady, they are both well.”

“And you will be rejoining them when you are well? Would you tell him you saw me, and that I’m anxious for his return?”

He shook his head, a chagrined expression moving across his face. “As soon as I get discharged from this place, I’m heading home to Pennsylvania. I’ve got a wife and five kids waiting for me. I’ve done my part in this damned war. I won’t be seeing Coltrane again.”

He called out to her as she stumbled away, but she did not turn back. There was no way to get a message to Travis. How could she write to him when he was on the move?

Wiping perspiration from her forehead, she moved along the rows of beds. Once, she had to step over wounded men lying on the floor, but the hospital was no longer crowded. Still, the smell of dying and the stench of decay permeated the air. Nearby, a soldier had vomited and then passed out to lie unconscious in his own filth. She moved toward his bed, knowing he needed to be bathed. Flies were buzzing about his face, and the scene was nauseating.

She got as far as his bedside when she felt herself swaying dizzily. The heat, the flies, the sour odor—it all hit her at once. Groping out blindly, she found nothing to anchor herself and crumpled to the floor.

“Kitty. Kitty. Wake up, girl.”

She blinked. Someone was gently slapping both sides of her face at once. Dr. Holt was bending over her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she cried feebly, trying to sit up, only to be pushed back gently on the cot where Dr. Holt had placed her. “I’m all right now, honest. It was the heat, and the smells, and…”

“And the fact that you are going to have a baby,” he said softly.

Their eyes met and held. She could not lie to this man.

“When do you figure it will be born?”

“It had to have happened right after the battle of Bentonville.” She turned her face to the wall. “I suppose that means I can expect the birth sometime around Christmas.” She gave an unladylike snort. “Isn’t that something? An unwed mother expecting a baby at Christmas. But not a virgin birth.”

The doctor patted her shoulder. “Kitty, your captain will return. How could a man not return to someone as lovely as you? You will be married and have your baby, and a smile will touch your lips again. You’ll see. You can face anything, and as bad as I hate to leave you in your predicament, I know you will come through.”

Her head snapped back. “What do you mean you hate to leave me? Where are you going?”

He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I haven’t told you before now because I didn’t want to upset you. I have suspected for several weeks now that you were carrying a baby. Doctors sense those things, my dear. I have been told by the Union officers in charge of the hospital that my services are no longer needed. I’m free to go back home, to Raleigh, where my family needs me. The hospital will close soon, anyway. A few months at the most. But I hate to think of leaving you behind this way, with no one to look after you, knowing how the townspeople feel about you. Why don’t you come with me? You’d like my wife, and she would welcome you into our home as though you were our own daughter.”

“No.” It exploded from her. “I can’t leave here. Where would Travis know to look for me when he returns? I promised to wait for him.”

He sighed, exasperated. “So what are you going to do in the meantime?”

“I’ll find a way.” Her chin jutted upward, and he knew that the conversation might as well come to an end.

In three days, Dr. Holt bid her good-bye and was off to Raleigh. For him, the blood and anguish of broken bodies was over. Kitty could not hold back her tears. “You will write?” he asked anxiously. “You will let me know if you change your mind and want to come stay with me and my family?”

She nodded, but they both knew they would probably never meet again. Kitty was going to wait for Travis. Now, more than ever, they had reason to rebuild their lives on the land that was now hers. How happy her father would have been to see his grandchild growing up on Wright land. The thought brought a smile to her lips, a glow to her eyes, and Dr. Holt whispered, “You’re going to make it, girl. I know you will.”

And then he was gone.

She continued with her duties at the hospital, working harder than ever. She wore larger dresses as she could find them, bigger aprons. Her condition had to be kept secret as long as possible. The Union medical officers tolerated her because, she supposed, it was a known fact that she belonged to a respected cavalry officer. The other local women who had volunteered for hospital work had long since been sent away, except for the good ladies of the church who came and went with baskets of cheer for the wounded Yankees.

“They hate us, yet they come,” a soldier laughed once after the woman had left. “I guess they feel it’s a sure way to heaven, being nice to the enemy. But it’s obvious they despise us.”

“You are no longer the enemy,” Kitty told him. “We are supposed to be one union now, remember? There are no more sides. We have to think like that if we are to have peace.”

One morning the sound of women chattering made Kitty look up from changing the bandage on a soldier’s arm. “The do-gooders,” the soldier snorted. “In they come with their baskets of stuff what ain’t fit to eat no how. Don’t let none of ’em come around me. I ain’t in no mood for no hymn-singing this morning.”

“Now, Linwood, don’t be so cantankerous,” Kitty scolded good-naturedly. She had grown fond of the old man who had lost one arm in battle and half of his other. He was from Rhode Island and dreamed of the day he could go home, and she had been working to help his recuperation along. She was the only person in the hospital who could get him out of bed to walk around and exercise every day, He was getting stronger, as evidenced by his dismay over seeing the clucking women bustling down the aisles.

“Can’t stand ’em,” he snapped. “You can tell they can’t stand to touch us. Remember that fat one that ran out screaming all of a sudden last week, saying she might be giving treats to the very soldier what shot her husband? Lord, I can still hear the way that woman was hollering. How come the doctors in charge let those old biddies in here, anyway?”

“Some of the patients enjoy their visits,” Kitty said patiently, putting the last touches to the dressing on the stump of his arm. “The woman who ran out screaming didn’t have any business coming, that’s true. I heard later that she was talked into coming, because her preacher felt it might help her get over some of her hate when she saw that the North had suffered, too. Obviously, it didn’t work.”

“Yeah. Maybe her husband was the one what put a ball in me and blew off one arm and near ’bout all the other one.
I
didn’t run out screaming.” He spat a wad of tobacco on the floor, ignoring Kitty’s scolding glare. “Just keep them hens away from me. Let ’em sing their hymns and pass out that gawd-awful food to somebody else. I’ll eat the slop they serve me here.”

Suddenly a shriek pierced the air. “That’s her! My God, that’s her. And look! She’s going to have a baby. His baby, no doubt. The Yankee bastard that killed my nephew. Oh, God, God…”

Kitty whirled around, gasping at the sight of Nathan’s Aunt Sue. Memories spun through her—the mansion where Nathan insisted she stay with his aunt and mother and Nancy Warren Stoner, his cousin. That awful night in the orchard when the Yankee foragers came through, and Nancy literally threw Kitty at them to save herself, when Kitty had been forced to kill them. Then, despite a promise to Nathan, she had left the plantation and returned to the hospital, refusing to live with those women any longer. Nathan’s mother had died shortly afterward.

And now Aunt Sue stood there, white-faced and screaming. “How dare that heathen she-devil be allowed around Christian folk? Even though these Yankees are enemies, they are God’s children. And some of them are sure to be born-again Christians.”

Sounds of “Amen” rang through the air—some from the patients. The loudest chorus came from the scowling women. Aunt Sue was making her way to Kitty. “I’d heard you worked here, and I prayed to God to give me the strength to keep silent if we ever met. But when I see you here, flaunting your sins, swollen with the baby of the man who killed my nephew…oh, Jesus!”

Before Kitty realized what was happening, the stout woman’s arm flew up, her hand cracking across her face. Kitty fell backward across the bed, stunned. “Jezebel! Child of Satan!” The blows rained down upon her. The others in the room seemed to be in a state of shock. No one moved to help her until Kitty heard a feeble voice crying out.

“You crazy fool. Stop it, I say.” Linwood stumbled across the floor to the shrieking, striking woman and, with strength Kitty never dreamed he had, kicked her to the floor. “How dare you strike this girl, you hypocritical old biddy! You ain’t fit to walk in her tracks.”

“What is going on here?” an authoritative voice boomed, and Kitty raised her stinging face to see Dr. Theodore Malpass striding toward them. Three soldiers walked with him, all with grim, set looks on their faces. Dr. Malpass motioned for one of his men to help Linwood back to his bed. He stooped to help Aunt Sue to her feet. “Will someone please tell me what is going on here?”

Kitty rubbed the back of her hand across her cheek as Nathan’s aunt launched into another tirade. “And I presume some of you Yankees are born-again,” she snapped. “Look at her. She’s carrying the baby of the man who murdered my nephew. He was a fine Confederate officer, brutally murdered. And here stands his mistress, his
whore
.”

Dr. Malpass reached out and took Kitty’s elbow, moving her to the waiting arms of another of his men. “Take her to my office and wait for me. I’ll get things under control here.”

Numb, Kitty allowed herself to be led away, Sue’s words still ringing in her ears. Lies, all of what she said were lies, but what difference did it make now? The whole town believed what Nancy Warren Stoner had told. Everyone hated her as much as they had hated her father.
Oh, Travis, Travis
, she cried silently,
Where are you now that I need you so? Dear God, Travis, where are you?

A tear slid down her cheek, and she hated herself for being weak. She had always hated women who cried.

“No more,” she said aloud, and the soldier steering her down the corridor glanced down in surprise. “I’m not going to let them get to me again. I got through four years of blood and hell, and I’m not going to let this damn town rip me to shreds now.”

“Are you all right, Miss Kitty?” he asked in a kind tone. “Could I get you some brandy or something?” He could feel her arm shaking.

“I’m just fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “That little scene back there just let me know how fine I really am. I’m not going to let them get to me. I won’t.”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t think I understand what all the fuss is about, but I’m glad you feel better about it.” He was grateful to reach Dr. Malpass’s office where he could ease her into a chair and step outside to close the door behind him. Let Dr. Malpass handle it. He wanted no part of brawling women.

Dr. Malpass was not long in coming. “How is she?” he asked the guard, anger flashing in his eyes.