Fight for Glory (My Wounded Soldier #1) (2 page)

Tom
Tanner

Chapter
Two

Missus was
exhausted. The afterbirth would not come easy. I knew if I tugged on the cord
coming from her body it would bring the rush of blood that surely could mean
death. So I watched her labor all over again.

The little one I
had placed in a drawer. I laid her on top of the clothes, pulling some of them
over her to keep her warm.

She wanted the
breast, that one. And I needed water and could not send the lad to fetch it for
I’d had no time to tend the dead bodies. My anger went to Gaylin. Had he not
been such a mule’s behind that morning I’d have taken him to field, but it was
all I could do these days not to pound that one and take him down a notch or
two. Too much like me, he was. Surely he would
come
when the sun dipped, for Pa would send him out, or Ma at least, and then we’d
see who had the mettle to face the carnage in the yard.

When I looked
around the blanket, Johnny had fallen asleep, head on the table, knife still in
his hand, potato rolled on the floor. I went to him and took the knife. I saw
the finger he hid in his shirt, the cut on it deep enough. “Damn it to hell,” I
whispered, for now the lad was injured too.

She moaned and I
hurried back, “C’mon, God above, give this woman some mercy,” I said, and it
came free then, the after, and I wrapped its quivering redness in the nearest
thing, the dead man’s shirt. I put that afterbirth aside, and looked for what
to use, a woman’s rags, where to look I didn’t know, but I went right to the
basket and there were the torn strips, so I packed her best I could, and
finally could pull the quilt over, but I knew the bedding, the tick, it would
have to be washed or burned and I’d leave that to Ma.

She was so weak,
Missus, not the child. That one cried angrily, and I moved to the woman and
gulped a bit as I pulled her chemise down, for we’d removed the blouse some
back, but there was her breast, the moisture on the nipple already, and I laid
the baby in there, but the mother did not respond she was that exhausted. So I
worked to arrange them, and this little angry one grew so frantic she could not
latch on, and the angle was bad. I ended up giving her my finger to suck,
wishing I’d washed it at least, but that would mean we had some clean water in
this Godforsaken set up.

Then I heard,
“Give her to me,” in her weak and lovely voice.

“Ma’am,” I said,
rushing to her side, “she needs to suckle.”

I laid the baby
there again, and with the mother’s help, we got that frantic rosebud mouth onto
that swollen plump nipple, and I could have praised the Almighty I was that
relieved.

“Ma’am,” I told
her, “can you hang on while I fetch water?”

The baby didn’t
like my voice so close and set to wailing. Here she was only in this life a
couple of hours and already telling a grown man what to do. So I backed off
some, and the missus smiled at me, and what a comely woman she was, even after
all she’d been through, she lit that room afire.

So I went to the
boy and waked him. I pulled his hand forward and looked at the cut. “Ma will
stitch this,” I said, for I’d no precision in me at the moment, so I got him a
rag they kept for the dishes and wrapped his finger, then told him to lie on
his little bed there. He did not argue. I knew this kind of
sleep,
it was not rest but escape.

I went out then. I
heard the flies as I smelled it, that ripe swell in the heat. I had my shovel,
the one I knew before the war even, and it fit my hand so well. I would like to
put them in the earth quick, but Sheriff Jimmy needed to take note. I spoke to
Bess, for she was patient, but sorely neglected standing in harness. She had
not moved much, too lazy to chase grass here in the yard. I pulled her closer
in, near to the husband, as I’d load him in first. Yes, this kind of weight I
knew. God made me strong, a bull, Ma said, and bullheaded, she said too, and I
went to the barn.

This man was not
without ambition, but he was no farmer. One did not hang tack like that on a
nail, and his tools were not sharpened or oiled. I did not care for his
arrangement at all, but I wasn’t here to judge. I found what I sought, a cover
for goods, and I took this out and rolled the mister into it. Then I bent my
knees and strained to get him over my shoulder. I bent and lifted him like a
baby. I heaved him into the wagon’s bed and walked Bess to a big Sycamore tree.
I pulled him off then, and worked him straight so he would fit a coffin.

I left Bess in
that shade then and she could eat the grass there.

The other body I
dragged around the side of the house. I put him near where she threw her
dishwater. He needed washed of his sins. I squatted near him and studied his
face, or what was left of it.

He had no papers
on him. No spare flesh either. He’d not taken a good meal in a long time.
Teeth so black.
Hands that knew work.
Shoes wore out, everything thin. He had no money or provision.
A bedroll, but traveling light.
That saber…belonged to his
daddy I’d bet.

I was out of time
so I went in the house, looked at the mother. Her eyes were closed, but she
held that child, and it looked to sleep as well. I fetched the bucket and
filled it with water and brought it in the house. I took the knife and cut the
potatoes and carrots into pieces and put some water over them, setting them on
the hob to boil. I found the cellar and added salt and a lid over.

I went for
Missus’ cup and brought her water. I put the babe back in the drawer. She had
wet on the bed. I figured she could water in the drawer and the clothes would
catch it. I couldn’t fix her yet, but I would shortly.

I woke the
missus, lifted her little head and held the cup to her parched lips. “Drink
now, lovely,” I said, not believing such came out of my mouth. She’d inspired
such a river of kindness coming out of me, I wanted to get out of here and run
the field.

I had to down
what she’d left
myself
. I would fetch her more. It was
the first time I felt the tiredness. I hadn’t moved out of it much since coming
home. I didn’t sleep, just a snatch here and there.

I wanted a drink.

He came then, his
big feet on the porch, slamming that ham of a hand on the door. I pulled it
open. His eyes were on fire
cause
he was itching for
something to happen, ever since he got hair in the secret places and ever since
he decided to be mad he couldn’t go off to war. We’d nailed him to the farm,
Garrett and me, and he intended to make me pay for it. But now he had him an
adventure all right. Now he’d get a taste.

His words were
all over each other. He’d seen the bodies, the one against the tree and the one
side of the house.

“Finished?” I
asked him when he had to take a breath because he pretty much ran here once he
found my tracks.

He nodded, his
mouth open.

“Drive Bess home.
Take this boy to Allie. He’s got a cut on
his finger needs looked after. Keep him there. Tell her to dote on him, not
that you’ll have to tell her. Tell Pa I need me a box for the mister. He has
those doors in the shed, tell him to use those and fasten sides. I’m putting
him in the earth tonight if the missus will have it. Time that box is finished
have Seth drive it over here. He can do chores round here. You go to town and
fetch Jimmy. Tell him we got killin’ here and he should bring a box for this
drifter. Got all that?”

He nodded. He was
so excited he’d run out of words for the first time in his life.

“And Gaylin?
Tell Ma we got a new baby here. Missus is
wore
out. Bring the
teas,
tell her
to come by herself for I need her quick.
Real quick.”

I thought he was
going to stop breathing.

“Get on it, now. And
you keep your eyes clear. I don’t know if this one traveled alone. I don’t know
a thing.”

He nodded, turned
to leave, remembered the boy. I walked toward Johnny who was already awake. I
picked him up, and he didn’t fight it. I carried him through and put him on the
seat next to Gaylin. “
You been
a real good boy. Your
daddy would be so proud. Miss Allie will take care of you now. Your Ma is fine,
but she needs rest. And your baby sister is fine, too.”

I put my hand on
his knee for a minute.

“Mister Tom?” he
said, “I want to stay with you.”

“You will,” I
told him. “I’ll be home real soon.”

I looked after as
they pulled away. Now what made him say that? I was deeply touched, I don’t
deny, but it’s not what I ever wanted or imagined. I was going west before
snow. I couldn’t settle. Not since the war.

When I got back
in the house I could smell the potatoes starting to boil. The woman was looking
at me. I hadn’t expected that either. I told her about Gaylin, and that Ma
would be here soon. I told her I’d sent the boy on. She swallowed hard.

“There’s some
supper cooking,” I said.

“I’m not hungry,”
she whispered. Then she lifted her little hand toward me.

I wiped my hands
down my legs. “Missus,” I said, “I better check…the blood.”

She looked at me,
those brown eyes so pure, so scared. Such a beauty this one, oh I didn’t like
the way she made me feel. I was going in the fall. My plans were set.

So I pulled the
cover back, and there were the rags soaked red, and I caught a curse before I
let it out. I went for more rags, and came back.
Her eyes on
me, shame, but past caring too.
So without words I took those rags away
and God almighty there sat a clot of blood the size of an apple. I looked at
her, but she kept her eyes on me. I took away the blood, so carefully. When I
lifted her hips, more blood came, and I put the new rags on her best I could. Her
legs had the red smears, and I longed to wash this from her, but my real
concern was all she had lost and no let up. Ma would bring her teas. But it
would take another hour before she came.

I pulled the
quilt over her once she was wrapped.

“What’s wrong?”
she said.

“Do you have the
tea…for the bleeding…from Shepherds Purse? Ma uses it…sometimes.”

She shook her
head. “It’s too early,” she said.

I nodded. “
Where’s the baby’s
….”

She pointed to a
lady’s round box that set in the corner near the basket where I’d found her
rags. In there I saw the diapers, one pin threaded in the cloth and two small
gowns. I took the baby out of the drawer and laid her on the bed. I put the
diaper between her curly legs, and pinned it in front. But putting the gown on
was far worse, yet I managed it with sweat and determination. Missus laughed a
little, and did not protest when I put the child back in the makeshift bed.

I looked at her,
and she appeared to have fallen asleep again, so I pulled back the cover. She
was soaking through again, and I had enough rags for one more go. I hated to
move her to change the rags, so I just added these, and she did not protest
when I moved her hips to put them beneath.

So my ma found me
kneeling at the bedside holding Miss Addie’s hand. I had been staring at her
pale face. If God let her go in the earth this day, I would ride out tonight,
harvest
be
damned. I hadn’t wanted to come back here,
but Pa had come to get me in the brickyard in Springfield, and I had not been able to deny
my mother the comfort.
So home I came…to this.

My ma put her
hand on my shoulder, but I was reluctant to let go of Missus’ hand. I showed
her all the blood and she told me how to make the tea, the fixings in her
basket on the table. I pulled the spluttering soup off the hob and set it on
the hearth to cool. Then I dug for the tea. The kettle was empty so I filled it
with the dipper and built up the fire so it would heat
quick
.
Ma had brought a sack bursting with cloth. I hefted this to the bed.

Ma wrapped her in
the quilt, so the rags were held in place,
then
said,
“Lift her.” I carefully slid my hands beneath Missus. Ma had wrapped her to the
chin. She opened her eyes to see me, then closed them and seemed to rest. She
was lighter than ever in my arms and I felt like laying my face on hers. I felt
like crying.

“She’s lost a lot
of blood. There is a stew in the crock. Get me some of the gravy soon’s I
finish this bed.” Ma said, in her bustle.

So all of the
bloody bedding was pulled off, and the tick was turned, but it was wet on the
other side too, though not so much, and Ma hurried around and made that bed. Then
I laid Missus down.

“Get out,” Ma
said, ready to unwrap her. “Fill that wash pan with warm water and bring soap,”
she ordered me.

I hurried to do
this, and brought it back. Ma had her unwrapped. She kept sheeting over Missus’
body, her little feet sticking out, and her small hands. I placed everything
for Ma then went to dish up some gravy. Once that was done, I added my
vegetables to Ma’s stew. The kettle was heating, so I poured some water in the
pot and added the leaves. I stirred this till it was brown, then poured off
some of the brew and took that into the missus, so anxious to see her take it.

“The blood….” I
said to Ma.

“Get,” Ma said,
quickly covering the missus as she’d been putting the clean rags in place.

“Ma,” I snapped. It
was too late for that.

“Get that tea
down her,” Ma said, looking at me over the tops of her glasses. Her hands did
not stop tending the missus. When she had her covered to her chin, she moved to
the baby,
tsking
her tongue.