Twelve

Day crept forward into evening. More than once, Alexa was tempted to find a quiet place to read the letter she hoped held news about Nate.

Each and every time, however, she was distracted either by someone needing her assistance or the thought that once she opened the envelope, there would be no turning back. And she wasn’t sure she could manage to care for the men relying on her if she were upset by bad news.

Not that it was going to be bad news. Nate was alive. He had to be. If he weren’t, she’d feel it somehow. They were too close.

“You’re not yourself today, Doctor Alexa,” Will Carter commented when she’d finished wrapping his ribs. “It’s like you’re a million miles from here.”

Caught gathering wool, Alexa offered him a reassuring smile. “I suppose I am a little distracted. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Must be hard for you, caring for all of us plus them at the hospitals around town. A body needs rest now and again.”

His concern touched her, and the warmth in his hound dog gaze didn’t go unnoticed. Ever since Caleb had referred to Will as her admirer, she’d been aware of the way his gaze sought her across the room, or how he went out of his way to ask about her day or how she felt. Most of her patients talked of home or their injuries. Not Will, he was genuinely interested in her. With all her heart, she wished she felt something for him besides simple affection.

“You’ll be on your way home in no time, Will.”

“I’d rather go back to fighting.”

She wasn’t sure that would ever happen. “Let’s see how that shoulder is healing. Raise your right arm for me.”

He did as she asked, but only managed to get the arm about half as high as he should. “Are you exercising it every day like I showed you? Pushing beyond where it’s comfortable every time?”

“Yes, ma’am. Every day for as long as I can stand it and then some more.”

“You’ll get there, Will.” She gave him an encouraging pat on the arm. “Just keep trying.”

“Doctor Alexa, do you…” He paused and his ears turned bright red.

A knot of dread coiled into her stomach. He seemed nervous, so whatever he was about to ask was probably personal.

“Yes?” She made a show of checking that the bindings about his ribs were secure.

“I know you’re busy, and you got lots to do but... Well, it’s like I said, a body’s gotta rest now and then. You got time to sit and have a cup of coffee with me out on the porch?”

Her jaw went slack. She didn’t have time. She hadn’t had time for the luxury of a social visit since war had come to Gettysburg. But just as he was right that she needed to rest now and then, he needed the distraction from his injuries as well. And she could certainly use something to take her mind off that letter. “That would be lovely, Will.”

His eyes brightened, and a broad smile broke out across his face. “You go out there and sit, I’ll get the coffee. Your Grammy’s been letting me help out here and there, and I’ve come to know my way around the kitchen pretty well.”

Surprised and pleased by his offer, she headed to the porch. Wounded men no longer littered the house and yard, but blood stained the floor and steps. Taking a seat in Grammy’s favorite wooden rocker, she glanced upward, the hole in the porch ceiling reminding her of Caleb standing on her porch just a couple of weeks back. She couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him, so handsome in his uniform, hat and shoulders covered in woodchips and white wash, looking angry enough to wring her neck.

The door whined on its hinges and the aroma of hot coffee wafted toward her.

“See now? You’re smilin’ already, Doctor Alexa. The break is doing you some good after all.”

A flush of remorse came over her.

He took a seat in the rocker beside hers and handed her the coffee. “Extra cream, and a little sugar, just the way you like it.”

She smiled. “You notice everything.”

“Nah, your Grammy told me,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

The friendly chirp of a cardinal calling its mate echoed on the early evening air, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze. Today it seemed the wind was their friend, carrying the rancid stench from the battlefield away from town, rather than toward them.

“Do you have family near here, Will?” she asked, realizing she knew very little about him.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “Well, I got a sister in Bethlehem, she’s married and has kids. But my folks have passed on.” He took a sip of the coffee and swallowed. “I wasn’t home to see ‘em before they passed, what with the war and all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that, Doctor Alexa.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, Will. Alexa is fine.”

“Oh, that don’t feel right,” he said, his ears turning a deep pink. “I couldn’t call you by your given name. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“We’re a long ways past…” She frowned, recalling where she’d heard those exact words before and darted a glance toward the fruit cellar. Guilt stabbed at her. Caleb should be out here enjoying this lovely summer evening instead of locked up. Perhaps the cane she’d mentioned would make it possible for him to come outside now and again after dark.

Sensing Will’s questioning look, she forced a smile. “Past that,” she said, realizing she’d never finished her sentence. “With all we’ve been through, it seems I’ve known you forever.”

“I know what you mean.” He stopped rocking and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Miss Alexa, I know it probably seems sudden, but I’d like to keep company with you now and then while I’m here.”

She could only stare at him. Had she misled him all these weeks? It wasn’t uncommon for patients to develop emotional attachments to doctors; she’d seen it happen too often to dismiss it. He was so sweet, so kind…he was exactly the type of man she should want to come calling.

He shrugged, and she realized her silence made him uncomfortable. “I know you’re divorced and all, your Grammy told me. Don’t you worry about that, it don’t bother me none.”

Grammy told him, had she? The same Grammy who told him how she liked her coffee? The same Grammy who was apparently playing matchmaker?

“I …” She searched her mind for any possible reason to turn him down. Dare she agree to spend time with Will knowing Felicity had developed tender feelings? It didn’t seem right, but as her cousin had already pointed out, she was far too young; Will barely noticed her.

Caleb came to mind again, the funny way he turned her stomach inside out and made her insides quiver with just a glance. Caleb…who frustrated and infuriated her. Caleb…who was bound and determined to marry a fiancée he didn’t love out of a sense of duty and honor.

There was no future with him, no point in dwelling on the feelings he inspired.

“I’d like that.” The words were out before she could stop them.

He smiled and brushed a hand across his brow. “Whew. You don’t know how hard that was, Doc—Miss Alexa.”

“Not at all, Will. I enjoy your company.” She took a sip of the coffee, wincing as it burned her tongue. Perhaps more time spent in the company of a kind and gentle man like Will Carter would do her some good.

And rid her of the futile attraction to Caleb.

****

The watch on his bedside table read a little after midnight, and Alexa had yet to come see him. Caleb sighed and rose from the cot, hating that the one bright spot in his entire day was engaging in a battle of wits with the doctor. So much so that when she didn’t come, the disappointment was keen.

He’d long missed the company of females during the long years at war. Visits to the upscale bordellos in Atlanta when home on leave had taken the edge off his physical needs, but Alexa’s company provided both mental and physical stimulation. Whether it was the verbal sparring they engaged in or merely the physical attraction they both tried to ignore, he couldn’t help feeling his spirits soar when she came through those doors.

Felicity had brought the cane Alexa promised, and he’d spent much of the evening practicing with it. He was still weak and tired more quickly than he’d like, but the cane meant he could get around more easily.

One door was pulled open, and for a moment, the heavenly smell of night air wafted through the stale little room. His heart lifted at the sight of Alexa coming down the steps.

Dressed in a night dress and wrapper, her hair was unbound and hung in dark velvety waves down her back. For a split second, his breath caught at the image of the ethereal beauty before him holding a pitcher and two cups. Like a school boy with his first crush, his heart leapt at the realization she had come to him.

“I thought I was being punished again.”

“I couldn’t get away earlier, Father was home for dinner. I had to wait until everyone was asleep.” She set the cups down and filled two mugs. The familiar aroma of whiskey and milk met his nostrils. “I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

“Your company is worth a little lost sleep. I get entirely too much rest.”

“I see you’ve made good use of the cane.” She set one cup on the table near him and raised the other to her lips.

“It helps a great deal.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her small, feminine bare feet.

“I’d very much like to take you outside one of these nights, Caleb. I think the fresh air would do you some good.”

It was the warmth of the sun he missed most, but he’d settle for moonlight if he had to. “I’d like that.”

She took a seat at the table. “I wrote that letter tonight, the one you helped me with.”

“Good.” He sensed there was more on her mind and carefully made his way to the center of the room to join her, leaning heavily on the cane.

“It’s much more sympathetic than what I’d have come up with on my own. And certainly more eloquent.”

“Alexa, you’re not here to talk about a letter. Why did you really come here tonight?” He lowered himself into the chair, hoping she didn’t notice how stiffly he moved.

“To check on you, as I promised.” She pulled an envelope from the pocket of her wrapper and handed it to him across the table. “And because of this. So you see, I really am here to talk about a letter.”

Alexa’s name and town written with a feminine flourish of loops and curlicues crossed the front of the missive. Caleb glanced from the envelope to her worried expression.

“One of the men who is helping to re-bury the dead found it on the body of a Confederate soldier who’d come unearthed. I know no one in the south, Caleb, and this isn’t Nate’s handwriting.”

“I see.” He took a sip of the drink while she paced across the room.

“I want to open it, but…”

“You’re afraid.”

She whirled at that, as though admitting to fear was a weakness. Her shoulders slumped. “Yes. I pray it’s good news, but if it isn’t…”

As he watched her, she wrapped her arms protectively over herself. He’d never seen her so vulnerable.

“You don’t want to read the letter in front of your grandmother or cousin, in case it’s bad news.”

“And I don’t want to be alone when I read it.” She crossed the room to stand before him, then dropped to her knees so they were more evenly matched for height. “In fact, I was hoping…Caleb, would you read it for me? If I have to hear bad news, I’d rather it came from you.”

The pleading in her vibrant green eyes reminded him of the night she’d begged to care for the dying soldiers left on the battle field. It had been difficult to deny her then, but he’d reacted as an officer. As her friend—and much as it pained him to admit it, that was the true nature of their relationship—he could refuse her nothing.

Clearing his throat to rid the lump of emotion that had lodged there, he tore open the letter. It was dated October 10, 1862. Well aware of Alexa’s frantic gaze, he read it quickly to himself.

Dear Alexa,

A dear acquaintance is writing this letter for me, and if you receive it, I am gone from this world. I was injured in a battle outside of Richmond and this kind family has taken me in to care for me like I was one of their own. I lost a leg, but that doesn’t bother me much. Now pneumonia has settled in, and I’m weak like a newborn kitten.

Before I leave this world, little sister, I want to beg you not to blame yourself. You encouraged me to follow my belief in state’s rights, and I know you well enough to guess you’ll find a way to blame yourself for my passing. In the end, I made my own decision, I hope you’ll remember that. Tell Pa I asked for his forgiveness. We said some pretty awful things to one another last time we spoke.

I sure wish Grammy was here with one of her smelly concoctions to smear on my chest or force down my throat. I know she’d kick this illness right out of me. Tell her I love her and she was the best grandmother a man could ask for.

I hope this letter finds its way to you, my sweet baby sister, and I hope it brings you peace to know I’m watching over you from a better place.

All I ask now, Alexa, is for you to be happy. Find a good man to love and have a whole passel of kids—preferably a boy or two with my good looks. And now and then, when you look toward the sky on a warm summer morning, look for me and know I’m looking back.

I hope you’ll think of me often and remember me fondly.

Yours with great affection,

Nate.

Caleb forced his eyes to linger on the letter until he was sure he could face her. He wished she’d never asked him to read it, wished he had better news to give her. But one thing lacking in this damn war was good news.

He folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. Clearing his throat, he forced his gaze to meet hers. “I’m truly sorry, Alexa.”

He’d expected her to scream or cry, but instead her face remained impassive. Though emotion darkened her eyes, she said nothing.

“The letter is from your brother, written on his death bed.”

She rose to her feet and folded her arms over her stomach, walking slowly across the room.

“It’s a very heartfelt letter. Maybe reading it for yourself will help.” With effort, he rose from the chair, leaning heavily on the cane.

“I…I will. Thank you. I should probably let you get some sleep.”

She started toward the steps, but he blocked her path.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“You aren’t leaving this room until you talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say. I feared the worst and it…happened.”

“You don’t have to bear this alone.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “I won’t be. At daybreak I have to wake Grammy and find Father and tell them—”

Her voice wavered, and he breathed a small sigh of relief at the hint of emotion.

“Tell them what?” He wouldn’t allow her to pretend it wasn’t real. He’d seen men receive bad news from home and choose not to acknowledge it, only to lose their head over some minor upset weeks later. He couldn’t let her slip into a state of denial.

“That Nate…that he isn’t…”

She stepped around him, and he wasn’t fast enough to stop her this time. She rushed up the steps, but stopped when she reached the top. Her shoulders slumped, and she put her face in her hands.

A lump of emotion wedged in his throat. “Alexa.”

“How is it possible I’ve laughed or enjoyed the sun on my face when my brother has been dead for almost a year?” She turned to look at him. “How is it possible I went on living as though nothing had changed when Nate…”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.” She came down one step, then another and abruptly sat.

He stepped slowly across the room. Pain throbbed in his right side, and his right leg trembled from standing so long, but the need to touch her, to hold her and offer what comfort he could propelled him.

She looked up as he approached. “You don’t look well, McKenna. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”

“This isn’t about me.” Reaching her side, he bent to take her hand and lead her down the last step. He tugged her closer, slipping a hand to the small of her back. To hell with the trembling in his limbs. He’d had to hold her to get her to cry the last time he’d comforted her, as well. “Dammit, Alexa. Let me hold you.”

“No.” The sound was a high pitched squeak. “Because if you do…”

Her cheek met his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her in place. A strangled sob escaped her, and her arms came around him, hands splaying over his back.

“I...I don’t know what to do.”

“Hold onto me.” He rubbed his cheek against the dark head at his shoulder. “That’s all you have to do.”

Another sob came followed by another until her entire body quivered with the force of her emotions. Her fingers curled into the material at his back, and she clung to him as if sapped of all her strength. Her grief brought to mind the anguish he’d felt at the loss of his father, and learning of his brother’s death months after it had happened.

Caleb had no idea how long he held her, stroking her hair, whispering soothing nonsense, pressing comforting kisses to her hair and face until the storm passed. But at some point, her sobs became hiccoughs and the tears that soaked his shirtfront ceased until all that remained were sniffles and shakily drawn breaths.

“I’ve never felt so alone,” she whispered.

“You’re not alone, sweet Alexa.” He flexed his arms, squeezing her a little tighter. “You’re right here with me.”

She made no attempt to pull away, and though sheer force of will was all that kept him upright, he couldn’t release her. Long, silent moments passed, only the sound of an occasional sniffle from her interrupted the thudding of his heart in his ears. Burning pain seared him as nerve endings protested being disturbed and healing tissue pulled against stitches.

But there was something so vulnerable about her right now, so at odds with the confident, capable woman she showed the world. The need to protect her, comfort her, was more important than any pain. And truth be known, the warmth of her body against his after so many nights alone was too intoxicating to give up.