Carried Forward By Hope (23 page)

Peter nodded. “May I come?”

He saw the doctor begin to refuse and then change his mind. “Come on,” he ordered brusquely. “There is room on the wagon seat.”

Within a few minutes they had arrived at Gayoso Hospital, the wagon rattling up the hill as more wagons headed for the waterfront. Frantic activity filled every room and hallway as the medical personnel worked to save lives. Peter winced as he heard the cries of suffering pouring from every room.

A nurse appeared as soon as Matthew was carried in on a stretcher. She pointed toward a bed in the corridor. “It’s all we have left,” she said apologetically. “At least for now.”

Peter realized that without the actual words, she was saying space would be made as patients died. He just nodded. “Thank you.”

She gazed back down at Matthew’s still form. “This one doesn’t look so bad,” she murmured, laying a hand on his forehead. She jumped back, startled, when Matthew’s eyes fluttered open.

Peter grinned with relief and leaned in. “Hey, old man.”

Matthew gazed at him for a long moment before his lips twitched. Then he lost consciousness again.

Peter stared at him with dismay. “Will he be okay?”

“Probably,” the nurse assured him. “He’s suffering from exhaustion, exposure, and hypothermia. We’ll get him warm and into a room as fast as we can.”

“Can I stay with him?” Peter asked.

The nurse nodded. “I’m glad he has a friend here,” she said. “Most of these poor souls are all alone.”

Peter nodded his head. He was glad Matthew had a friend there too. He would send a telegram to his editor later to let him know he wouldn’t be making it to Springfield. He would not leave Memphis until Matthew left the hospital.

Aunt Abby was just coming down the stairs when a knock sounded on the door. Miles appeared through the parlor, but she waved him away. “I’ll get it,” she said cheerfully. “I was just going out on the porch to get some fresh air.” She had spent the morning reading to Robert. “It’s a beautiful day,” she tossed over her shoulder as she opened the door.

“Telegram for Abigail Livingston,” the uniformed boy said.

“I am Mrs. Livingston,” Aunt Abby said graciously. She reached for the envelope with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Have a good day, ma’am,” the boy said as he tipped his hat and left the porch.

Carrie came in from the garden, her arms laden with a basket of vegetables. “Good news?” she called.

“I don’t know,” Aunt Abby responded, wondering at the quickening of her pulse as she gazed at the envelope.

“Only one way to find out,” Carrie said teasingly as she handed the basket to May and stepped up beside her. She glanced at Aunt Abby’s face more closely. “Is everything alright?” she asked with concern.

Aunt Abby forced a laugh. “I have no reason to suspect otherwise,” she said lightly. “I don’t know why this telegram has made me uneasy. I suppose four years of war have left me never knowing what to expect. I can’t get used to the fact that I no longer have to worry about the people I love most,” she added, ripping the envelope open. “Let’s see what news there is today.”

Moments later she sank onto the porch swing, staring with wide-eyed shock at the telegram.

Carrie stepped forward, alarmed. “Aunt Abby?”

“It’s Matthew…” she whispered.

Carrie snatched the telegram from her hands and began to read. Just then Rose and Moses stepped up on the porch, their expressions alarmed when they saw Aunt Abby’s face.

“Carrie?” Rose asked, sinking down beside Aunt Abby and taking her hand. “What is it?”

Carrie took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “It’s a telegram from Peter,” she said hoarsely, and began to read. “‘
Terrible tragedy on the Sultana.’”

“The boat Matthew was on?” Moses asked sharply.

Carrie nodded and continued to read, tears blurring the words on the page. “‘
Matthew has survived, but is still hospitalized. I am staying in Memphis until he is released. Will return with him to Richmond.’”

She gasped and put down the telegram.

“That’s all?” Rose asked, her own eyes swimming with tears. “How badly was Matthew hurt? What happened?”

Carrie could only shake her head, her thoughts spinning.

“Peter wrote all he knows,” Aunt Abby said, straightening her shoulders as she fought for control. “He probably wanted to wait until he had more news, but was afraid we would hear about the
Sultana
before he could notify us that Matthew survived.” Her voice softened. “He’s given us all he could give us.”

Carrie stared out into the bright sunshine. “Didn’t you tell me the
Sultana
was carrying a load of prisoners released from the Confederate camps?”

“Yes,” Aunt Abby said sadly. She shook her head. “We can make up all kinds of stories, but without facts we have nothing but theories. Matthew is alive,” she said firmly. “And obviously Peter is too. We will focus on that and wait to hear more news.”

“You’re right,” Carrie agreed immediately. Her thoughts flew upstairs to where Robert lay in bed. He was alive, too, but his spirit and soul were dead. His emaciated frame had put on a little weight, but he still looked like a man ravaged by four years of war.

When Rose stepped forward to take her hand, Carrie knew her friend was reading her thoughts and harbored the same fears. Matthew was alive, but what kind of shape would he be in when he got back to them?

“Stop it, girls,” Aunt Abby snapped.

Carrie jolted and swung her gaze to the older woman. She had never heard her speak that way.

“We don’t know anything,” Aunt Abby scolded. “I’m scared, too, but dreaming up worst case scenarios will serve no purpose. Peter would not be talking about bringing Matthew home if he weren’t able to withstand a train trip.” She rose and grasped Carrie’s hands. “He cannot possibly be in Robert’s condition,” she said firmly, her eyes warm with compassion.

Carrie took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “You’re right,” she responded instantly. “Of course you’re right.” She took a deep breath and allowed hope to replace the despair.

Aunt Abby hugged her close. “Fear is not a bad thing,” she said gently. “It’s only human to be afraid of what could have happened to Matthew, but allowing it to control your thoughts will serve no purpose. You have to let the fear roll through you and push it aside with faith.”

Carrie nodded. She had seen Aunt Abby do that very thing where she was sitting on the swing. “How long did it take you to learn how to do that?” she asked shakily.

Aunt Abby laughed. “Longer than you’ve been alive, but you three are smarter than me, so I believe you’ll conquer it sooner.”

Moses swung down off the porch. “I’m going back into town to see what I can find out. Matthew has introduced me to some of his journalist friends from Philadelphia and Baltimore. I know where they are staying.”

Aunt Abby nodded. “Thank you,” she said gratefully, and then pulled Carrie and Rose down onto the swing. “I believe we’ll go back to enjoying the day,” she said firmly. “And we’ll pray for Matthew,” she added, brushing away a tear.

*****
 

Jeremy reached for his bowl of steaming soup as he cocked his head and listened intently. “I believe I just heard Moses come up on the porch.”

Carrie, Rose, and Aunt Abby exchanged a long glance as they waited for Moses to join them. They had already filled Jeremy in on the little they knew about the
Sultana
.

Carrie forced herself to breathe evenly, refusing to let thoughts of fear enter her mind. She had spent the afternoon reading to Robert. He had no idea that his best friend had been injured, and she wasn’t about to
let
him know. He’d had his fill of death and dying, and had seen far too many men hideously injured. Somehow she managed to keep her voice light and cheerful while she was with him. She felt nothing but relief when he finally slipped off to sleep about an hour before dinner.

May bustled in from the kitchen and laid down another heaping plate of food as Moses entered the dining room. He smiled his gratitude, but it was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Carrie tensed, knowing the news was bad. She reached out her hands and grasped Rose’s and Aunt Abby’s. “Tell us what you found out,” she said quietly.

Moses hesitated.

“The truth is always the best,” Aunt Abby said. “I know you want to protect us, but shielding us from the truth will do nothing but ensure we’re not ready to deal with it when we finally discover it.”

Moses nodded and took a deep breath. “The
Sultana
blew its boilers a couple miles north of Memphis three days ago and then caught fire. The news is all over the North, but chaos here in Richmond has kept it out of the papers.”

“How bad?” Aunt Abby asked.

Moses winced. “They estimate about fifteen hundred dead,” he said flatly.

Everyone at the table gasped and stared at him in disbelief. Dust motes floated through the air as a soft breeze stirred the curtains and parted them to allow a shaft of light to pierce the room.

Jeremy was the first to speak. “That’s impossible!” he exclaimed. “There’s not a steamer on the Mississippi that could handle that many people.”

“You’re right,” Moses agreed heavily. “The fella I talked to said the
Sultana
was cleared for about four hundred. No one seems to know how the boat ended up with so many.”

“How many survivors?” Carrie asked, desperately trying to hold on to the number that gave hope.

Moses shook his head. “They’re not sure. As far as I can tell, they pulled about seven hundred from the water, but many of them have already died from their burns and injuries.”

“On top of the fact that they were probably sick and malnourished from their months and years in the prison camps,” Carrie said, hot bile rising into her throat as she imagined the scene. She barely bit back a groan as she thought of Matthew.

“Dear God,” Aunt Abby managed. “Matthew was so excited to have the opportunity to accompany those men home to their families.”

“Most of them will never make it,” Moses stated, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Over two thousand passengers?” Jeremy repeated, shaking his head. “That could have only happened through…”

“Greed and bribery?” Moses interjected angrily. “It will take some time for the whole story to come out, but that seems to be the consensus among the reporters.”

Rose reached out for her husband’s hand, knowing he needed the comfort. “Did you find out any more about Matthew?”

Moses nodded. “He was not injured in the blast, but he stayed on the boat for a long time helping other passengers get off so they would have a chance for survival.”

“That would be Matthew…” Aunt Abby murmured, her eyes shining with pride.

“When they found him on a log floating down the river about seven hours after the blast, he was holding on to a dead soldier. Evidently it was a soldier he had interviewed. He held on to him all night.” Moses’s voice got thick. “He didn’t know the boy was dead until his rescuers pried him out of his arm.”

No one made an attempt to stop the tears streaming down their faces.

“Matthew was frozen and suffering from hypothermia when they rescued him. The reporter I talked to said he thought he was being released tomorrow.”

“Peter?” Rose asked.

Moses explained how Peter had escaped being on the boat. “He’s been with Matthew since they got him to the hospital. He won’t leave him.”

Carrie smiled. “They’ve been through so much together,” she said tenderly. “I’m glad Matthew isn’t alone.”

Moses gazed around the table. “Matthew is going to be okay,” he said firmly.

“Peter said he was bringing him back to Richmond,” Aunt Abby said gratefully. “We’ll have a chance to care for him.”

Moses nodded. “I imagine that’s all he wants right now.”

“We’ll be ready for him,” Carrie said, her voice trembling with both relief and pain. She was so glad Matthew had survived, but she could only imagine the pain of families eagerly awaiting their soldier’s return from the prison camps. “It’s so unfair,” she whispered. “They were so close to home…”

A deep silence dropped over the table again.

Once more, Jeremy was the first to break the silence. “We thought the end of the war would stop the senseless dying,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I guess it will never stop.”

“No, it will never stop,” Aunt Abby agreed, reaching out to touch his shoulder.