“And what does your husband say about it?”
“My husband is none of your business,” she said wearily. “And would it really make a difference if I discussed him with you?Would you treat me any kinder?”
“Try me and see. Does your husband have a name?”
She knew she was digging herself into a deep hole with her lies, but she was tired of the doctor’s harassment. “His name is Robert. And neither he nor anyone else expects me to be a nurse. It’s my own choice.”
“Ah. So that means either the good lieutenant is a liberal thinker when it comes to his wife’s unconventional activities
or
he doesn’t know about them. Since most of the career military men I know are rather conservative fellows, I’m guessing that it’s the latter. Poor Robert doesn’t know that you’re here. Tell me, what do you suppose he’ll say when he finds out what you’ve been up to in his absence?”
Julia thought of the real Robert Hoffman—her cousin. He wouldn’t understand her determination to be a nurse any more than the rest of her family did. He would be horrified to learn where she’d been and what she’d seen and all the demeaning work she’d done. Scandalized, in fact. Just as Hiram Stone had been. The only man who seemed to understand and approve of her actions was Nathaniel Greene. Julia decided to picture the minister as her husband when she answered the doctor’s questions.
“He will be very proud of me.”
The doctor gave a grunt. It might have been disgust or derision or disbelief, Julia couldn’t tell which. He unfolded his arms and walked around the desk toward her, absently twisting his wedding ring as he spoke. “Well, there are rumors afoot that the Rebels are on the march again. Looks like our boys are going to have to go stop them. That means there will be more work for us to do very soon. Have you had your fill yet, Mrs. Hoffman? If so, now would be a good time to be a submissive little wife and go home.”
Julia had had enough of the man. It was impossible to be kind to him. “I’ll do whatever I please,” she said coldly. “Good night.” She turned to leave and nearly collided with a man who was stepping through the front door. “Oh …excuse me.”
Then she looked up and saw who it was—Reverend Nathaniel Greene. It was as if she had conjured him out of the blue by thinking about him a moment ago. How had he suddenly materialized in the front foyer of the hospital?
“Julia,” he said, smiling broadly. “I see that I
have
come to the right place. From the outside, this building looks as though it should be condemned.”
“What are you doing here?” Her words came out in a horrified whisper. Nathaniel didn’t seem to notice.
“I arrived in Washington earlier today, and I’m leaving again tomorrow, but I had to see you. I went to your residence, and your landlady directed me here.”
This was certain to end in disaster. Nathaniel was going to expose her lies in front of Dr. McGrath, who had emerged from his office to stand in the foyer, right behind her. She had to be polite and make proper introductions—but she saw a terrible collision coming and felt desperate to avoid it. She had to get these two men apart, quickly.
“Dr. McGrath, I’d like you to meet an old friend of our family, Reverend Nathaniel Greene, pastor of our church in Philadelphia. He’s been working with the U.S. Christian Commission for the past several months and is on his way home.”
The doctor simply nodded, rudely refusing to say “How do you do” or shake Nathaniel’s hand.
“I was just on my way to the boardinghouse,” she told Nathaniel. “Quick! Do you think we could stop your carriage from leaving? It’s so hard to catch another one at this time of day.” She tried to pull him toward the door, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Don’t worry, I asked the driver to wait in case I didn’t find you here. You’re very fortunate, Dr. McGrath, to have such a fine nurse as Julia working in your hospital. I ran into her at White House Landing last June, and I saw firsthand what a wonderful job she does. Everyone she worked with had nothing but praise for her.”
The doctor gave another one of his ambiguous grunts.
“I can’t wait to see her family in Philadelphia and tell them what amazing work she’s doing. Correct me if I’m wrong, Julia, but I had the impression that your father wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of you becoming a nurse.”
“Perhaps not in the beginning,” she said quickly, “but he supports my decision now.” She hoped that neither of them would see how nervous this conversation was making her.
“And speaking of your family,” Nathaniel continued, “I could have kicked myself for not asking you about Robert the last time I saw you. Has there been any news of your—?”
“No! None at all. Not a word.” Julia could scarcely breathe. “He’s still in Libby Prison in Richmond, as far as we know. Well, good night, Doctor.” She gave him a hasty wave and turned to Nathaniel, practically shoving him backward through the door, saying, “You’re a savior, coming along with a carriage when you did. It’s so difficult to find one at this hour.”
She shuddered with relief when the door banged shut behind them.
“Your Dr. McGrath is a rather rude fellow, isn’t he?” Nathaniel said when they were in the carriage.
“Yes, that’s why I wanted to leave quickly. He’s a very good physician but a complete boor when it comes to social skills. It would have been quite useless for you to waste any more time trying to engage him in polite conversation.”
She debated briefly whether to tell the minister what she’d learned about the doctor from Hiram Stone, then decided not to. She couldn’t risk Nathaniel mentioning it to her father. Judge Hoffman would haul her home on the very first train if he learned she was working for a murderer.
“Can I take you someplace for dinner?” Nathaniel asked.
Julia was so surprised by his invitation that it took her a moment to reply. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t possibly go anywhere dressed like this. I’ve been working all day. I should change my clothes first and freshen up.”
Nathaniel gazed at her as if it didn’t matter to him if she was wearing rags. “You look quite lovely to me. Besides, I’m afraid there isn’t time for you to change and still go to dinner. I have a meeting later this evening that I can’t avoid. I’m so sorry. And then my train to Philadelphia leaves early tomorrow morning. I shouldn’t have presumed on your time this way, but I wanted to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Nathaniel.” It was. He looked wonderful, this man she had dreamed of for so long. Julia wished she could write a letter to her cousin Caroline.
At last! At long last, I have my wish!
she would tell her.
“I’m not really hungry,” she said. “Maybe we could just take a carriage ride around Washington City until your meeting.” She was content to simply sit beside him in the carriage and finally see the admiration in his eyes.
“That sounds good to me.” Nathaniel took a moment to instruct his driver, then turned his attention back to Julia. “Ever since I saw you working in Virginia, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know it’s selfish of me, but I wish you were returning to Philadelphia, too. I wish I could spend more time with you. When do you think you will be coming home?”
Julia longed to say,
I’ll go home with you tomorrow
. Doctor Mc-Grath had warned her that there might be another battle soon and that now would be a good time to leave. But then she thought of the hospital wards filled with wounded men and knew that a small part of her didn’t want to go home, even if it was with Nathaniel Greene. Her patients depended on her. They looked forward to her smile and a few simple words of comfort to ease their pain.
“The hospital is full right now,” she said. “It’s so hard to leave—”
“Of course. I’m sure you’ll come home as soon as you can.”
How different Nathaniel was from Hiram Stone—and from most of the other men in her social circle.
“May I ask …a woman as lovely as you are …is it too much to hope that you haven’t found a beau yet?”
Could he possibly be serious? What miracle had transpired that had finally allowed her to win his heart? She looked at his face, wondering if he was mocking her—or if she was dreaming. He wore the same lovesick expression in his gray-blue eyes that she’d seen in Hiram Stone’s.
“I’ve been much too busy to do any courting,” she managed to say.
“Good. Then I’ll trust that, if it’s the Lord’s will, He’ll bring us together when the time is right. I’ve waited a long time to find someone, Julia. And I nearly despaired of ever finding a woman like you—selfless, giving, compassionate. When I think of all the luxuries you’ve sacrificed in order to work as a nurse …well …the least I can do is be as unselfish as you are and wait a little longer.”
Something in his words struck Julia as wrong. She needed to tell him that the image he had formed of her wasn’t right. She was not selfless and giving; she was a fraud who had become a nurse in order to impress him and win his heart. Because if she really had won him, she would have to live up to that false image in order to keep him.
His first assessment of her on the morning after Bull Run had been the truer one—she was shallow and spoiled and unbearably self-absorbed. But as she sat in the carriage with him, holding his hand at last, Julia had no idea how to stop the charade she had set in motion without losing him again.
Sharpsburg, Maryland
September 1862
Phoebe crawled out of her tent shortly before dawn and made her way through the woods to the creek, alone. Her fever, which had raged all night, had finally broken. She still felt weak from this latest bout of malaria, but at least she had stopped shaking. Poor Ted couldn’t have gotten much sleep with her moaning and thrashing beside him in their tent all night. He’d finally fetched her a dose of quinine from the regimental surgeon, and that had done the trick. She couldn’t remember if she had thanked him.
Her symptoms had been coming and going ever since she’d marched through White Oak Swamp last July—every few days at first, but now dwindling down to every few weeks. In early September, the regiment had boarded a steamship at Harrison’s Landing and sailed up the Potomac River toWashington City. They’d come right back to where they’d started from seven months ago with nothing to show for it. The Union was still split in two. Richmond was still the Rebel capital. The Negroes were still slaves. All that equipment, all that time, all those dead and wounded soldiers—for nothing. The waste of it made Phoebe sick.
The regiment had barely had time to make a proper camp in Washington before they’d learned that the Rebels were on the move, marching north into Maryland. Fearing an attack on Washington or Baltimore, General McClellan had ordered his army to go after them. Phoebe and Ted had packed their knapsacks again and marched into Maryland with the eighty-five-thousand-man army and a train of three thousand wagons, strung out for miles. There was no mud this time, only billowing clouds of choking dust, kicked up by thousands of horses and tramping feet.
Now, after several days of marching and a long night of fever, Phoebe felt filthy. She had risen early to cool off in Antietam Creek before anyone else was awake. Leaving her uniform on shore, she waded into the chilly water in her union suit, which she never took off. But it had been almost a year since she had wrapped the muslin around her bosom to flatten it, and the filthy cloth had rotted into shreds from dirt and sweat and age. Her fingers poked through it like paper. Phoebe quickly unbuttoned her underwear and stripped off the tattered cloth, letting it float away downstream. Then she took out the bar of soap she had tucked into her sleeve and washed her sweaty skin before buttoning up again.
It felt good to be clean, even if the water was cold enough to make her shiver. She lay back in the creek and wet her hair then scrubbed it clean with the soap, holding her breath and ducking under to rinse it. When she finished, Phoebe rose up out of the water, her wet union suit clinging to her body.
Ted stood on shore.
They stared at each other for a long, horrible moment before Phoebe shrieked and dove behind the bush where her uniform was. But even as she scrambled into her clothes, she knew it was too late. She’d seen Ted’s dazed eyes, wide with disbelief, his slack jaw. He had dropped straight to the ground on his backside, as if someone had pulled a chair out from under him.
Phoebe tried to think what to do as she quickly pulled on her trousers and shoved her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. She didn’t bother with her shirt. She scooped up her shoes and the rest of her clothes and hurried out to where she’d left him. Ted was gone. She heard him stumbling through the bushes. Phoebe tore off after him, buttoning her jacket as she ran.
“Ted! Ted, wait up!”
She easily caught up with him even though she was barefooted. Ted was so bewildered with shock that he had strayed from the path and was groping blindly through the brush. He staggered as though he was about to faint. When she grabbed the back of his jacket to stop him, he collapsed to the ground again.
“Get away from me! Get away!” He held his arms outstretched to keep her at bay.
“Stop it, Ted. It’s me.”
“No …no …it’s your face, but it’s on the wrong body!”
She exhaled and passed her hand over her eyes, struggling not to cry. “Why did you have to go and follow me? You know I like my privacy.”
“You had a fever all night. I wanted to make sure you weren’t sick.” But now Ted was the one who looked sick.
Phoebe turned away, wishing she could erase the look of revulsion on his face and replace it with his familiar, friendly grin. Her best friend—her only friend—had seen her as she really was, and he was horrified.
“Don’t tell nobody. Please, Ted. You can’t tell nobody.”
He scrambled to his feet as if he was about to run. “Don’t
tell
anybody? Are you
crazy
? No, get away from me,” he said when she tried to grab his sleeve to stop him. He took off blindly through the brush again. Phoebe followed, hopping from foot to foot as she put on her shoes.
“What’s wrong with you, Ted? Ain’t we still friends?”