Rachel Greystone remained in the shade of the porch of the Morgan House Hotel in Marshall, Texas, and out of the sun that was a scorcher.
A block away from Rachel and beyond the brick-paved city that was radiating heat in shimmering waves was the railroad. A train had just arrived from the east and sat steaming in front of the yellow station house. Marshall was the end of line and the train could go no farther to the west. She could see wounded soldiers climbing down from the railroad coaches and one of the flatbed cars of the train. Each soldier carried a bedroll. Some also had small satchels or tied bundles of personal items. Several of the men stopped on the station platform and piled their possessions there. Then they joined with the others coming into the town.
Rachel knew the engine would soon be turned around on the turntable in the switching yard and headed back to the east. The passenger coaches would fill with new recruits for the Confederate Army and the flatbed cars loaded with military supplies. She would be on board the train, for she had made her decision to play a role in that war and not sit safely home in Marshall.
The wounded soldiers, nearly two hundred of them, came straggling along the street from the station. Most of the soldiers were dressed in various degrees of a gray uniform. All of the uniforms showed hard usage. Here and there a man wore civilian clothing. A few soldiers were using crutches, one because he had one leg. Three of the soldiers had each lost an arm. Many were limping. In half a dozen instances, one soldier was helping another to walk. Rachel's vision blurred with a mist of tears as a wave of sorrow for the men cane over her.
A tall, rail-thin man in civilian clothes and a shorter man in a frayed uniform came parallel to the hotel. The taller man walked hunched forward with his hand pressed to his chest. The other man moved with a limp. The two halted and had a brief conversation. They separated, the shorter man continuing along the street while the other came toward the hotel.
The man moved with a slow pace toward Rachel, standing on the porch and watching him advance. He put each foot down carefully as if walking on ice. His face was gaunt and strained and glistening with sweat. He appeared ready to faint in the heat. He lifted his foot to step upon the wooden decking of the porch. He tripped when his toe snagged the edge and started to fall.
Rachel swiftly stepped close and grabbed the man by the arm.
* * *
Evan wanted to hurry and escape the sun that was sucking the moisture out of his weakened body. However, his muscles felt like wet strings and he was having difficulty walking. The final jolting stop of the train had hurt his damaged lung and he was having difficulty breathing. As he stepped upon the hotel porch, he tripped.
A pair of strong hands caught hold of him and stopped his fall. The person pulled strongly upward, and Evan managed to straighten.
"Thank you," Evan said, and turned to look at his savior. A lovely, young woman was watching him with a concerned expression. She had large green eyes, clear as crystal. They were the most beautiful, the most feminine eyes he had ever looked into. For the moment, all he could see were those green eyes.
"May I help you to a seat inside the hotel?" she asked. She still held him by the arm with both hands as if she feared he would fall again. "There are chairs inside the hotel and it's cooler there."
"Yes, please. Seems like I need help to stay on my feet." Evan thought he might be able to navigate the short distance by himself, but he didn't want the pretty woman to leave him. He managed to take his sight from her eyes and see the rest of her. She had long, light brown hair crowned with a bonnet, a delicately carved nose and generous mouth, and a chin perhaps a trifle square. Still, an altogether delightful face. She wore a yellow gingham dress with a row of ruffles down the front and the hem of the skirt brushing the floor. A small purse dangled from an arm.
"Lean on me as much as you need to," she said.
Evan leaned more than he really had to on the woman, and let her guide them through the open door and into the shadow-filled interior of the hotel. On the far side of the lobby, Evan lowered himself onto a leather couch. The woman released his arm and sat down beside him.
"Thanks again," Evan said.
"No thanks are necessary," she said, her green eyes still fixed on him with that expression of worry about his physical condition.
"I'm all right now," Evan assured her. "My name's Evan Payson."
"I'm Rachel Greystone. I saw you come in on the train. Were you at Vicksburg?"
"At Vicksburg, yes. And other places before that." Since they were in Texas, and Texas was aligned with the South, let her think he was fighting for the Confederacy. The fact that he had become a surgeon for the Union Army was purely by chance, since he had come upon their wounded first. He had been unable to pass by the bleeding, dying soldiers without helping them.
"Was the fighting bad?" Rachel asked.
"There were many killed and even more wounded, And not enough surgeons and nurses to tend to them." Evan was experiencing a strange sensation. He was very ill, and they were talking about fighting and dying, yet the world around him had come to feel gentle and safe. Also, the pain of his wound had greatly lessened and he was breathing more easily. All of this had happened but a moment after the woman had touched him. It all was due to the woman's nearness, her obvious kindheartedness, he was certain of that. He basked in the wonderful feeling, but why should she have that effect on him?
"I'm going to be a nurse for our Army," Rachel said.
"Nursing is a difficult task, and a sad one when one of your patients dies."
"But a necessary one," she said, contented with her decision.
"Yes, very necessary."
"Where were you wounded?" she asked with compassion furrowing her brow.
"A bullet hit me here." Evan touched his right breast. "I'm on my way home to El Paso."
"I hope you make it there safely. Are you traveling alone?"
"There's a fellow soldier with me. He's seeing about buying horses for us now. We'll leave tomorrow."
"It's good that you have somebody to travel with you. I hope all the wounded soldiers get home safely. I feel badly that I've waited so long to go and help our soldiers. I'm on my way now."
"Your home is here in Marshall?"
"Not right in town. My parents have a farm a few miles to the south. My father knows the commander of the garrison here in Marshall and he has given me a pass to ride the train east. My two brothers and an uncle are fighting with General Lee in Virginia. I hope to be able to see them."
"Please be careful. It will be difficult to find General Lee and your relatives, for the armies are always marching and maneuvering as they try to get an advantage on the enemy." She was a brave woman to journey more than halfway across the continent in time of war, and then to put herself in danger close to the battle lines.
"I'll find them. Now I must go to the station for I don't want to miss the train." She climbed to her feet.
Evan felt an immediate loss. He wanted to touch this delightful creature. He stood erect and took her hand, enclosing it totally within his. He felt the fine bones within their covering of soft flesh and smooth skin. He continued to hold her hand, not wanting to let go, for he knew he would never see her again. He should say something to prolong her stay, but he was tongue-tied.
"Good-bye," Rachel said. She smiled, seeming to read his thoughts exactly.
"Good-bye and good luck," Evan said hoarsely. His heart was tapping high in his chest and his breath was flowing quickly. It wasn't safe to breathe so fast with his damaged lung, but he couldn't help it.
Rachel pulled lightly on her hand and extracted it from Evan's. She crossed the lobby and picked up her satchel by the door. She turned and fastened Evan with her green eyes.
Evan's pulse hammered. The touch of Rachel's eyes upon him was like a kiss.
Rachel smiled at him and lifted her hand in a little wave. The smile increased her beauty to a dazzling thing. Then she stepped through the doorway and was gone.
With her going, Evan felt the sensation of a gentle, safe world evaporate. Once again he was a very ill man journeying through a harsh, dangerous land. He marveled at the woman's effect on him. The period of her presence had been short, much too short, but he was thankful that he had been allowed to experience even that brief moment of time.