An Unlikely Union

“No, Eddie. You mustn’t blame yourself. We are at war. Terrible things happen. There was nothing you could do—”

“How dare you!”

Emily felt the blood drain from her face. She need not wonder who had spoken the fierce words. She already knew. How long Dr. Mackay had been standing behind her and how much of the conversation he had heard, she was not certain, but it had been long enough to rouse his fury. Swallowing hard, she turned. He stood towering above her, fists clenched at his sides.

“What do you think you are doing?”

When she didn’t answer immediately, he pointed to the door.

“Get outside!”

Emily chanced a glance at Edward. Just as she had feared, the blank stare had returned. I have made things worse.

Torn between comforting her friend and following the doctor’s orders, she hesitated. She shouldn’t have.

“Now, Nurse!”

Emily’s legs were as wobbly as a freshly cooked batch of mint jelly and walking the distance to the doorway seemed to take an eternity. All around her, the wounded stared, surely wondering what was about to happen. Even the Federal guard at the entryway showed sympathy on his face. Emily wasn’t afraid of Dr. Mackay physically, but she feared that he in his position of authority would hinder her from ministering to the Confederate men.

She stepped outside. He was immediately on her heels, catching the hem of her skirt with his long stride. Emily turned to free herself before his clumsiness ripped the fabric. Losing her footing, she was captured by his massive hands.

“You little rebel!”

“Unhand me, sir!” she commanded.

He did but only to stick a long, sharp finger in her face. “I will not have that kind of talk in my ward! Do you understand? How dare you tell that dirty Johnny it isn’t his fault! They started this war! The blood of thousands is on their heads!”

Emily sucked in her breath, fire building inside her. Her parents had raised her to be respectful, to be gentle. She had never been one to argue before, but this man, this Yankee, brought out a fierceness she didn’t know existed.

“They started this war? I beg to differ with you, sir. It was your soldiers who opened fire upon our civilians, and that is why a good many of these men took up arms in the first place! They wished to defend our state from tyrants like you!”

He looked shocked. Surely no woman had ever talked this way to him before. His eyes then narrowed. “I assume you are referring to the riot on Pratt Street.”

“I am.”

“Then you had better get your facts straight.”

Emily held her ground. “Oh, I am completely aware of the facts, Doctor. Major Stanton and his sister, her husband as well, were caught in that riot.”

“Aye. That explains quite a bit. All of you are as guilty as sin.”

Her blood was boiling. How dare he speak that way about her friends! “They are guilty of nothing more than meeting the Philadelphia train. Julia was nearly trampled to death when your Massachusetts soldiers emptied their muskets in an act of barbarous cruelty!”

The veins in his neck were bulging. His side whiskers rose like the barbs of a porcupine. His chest swelled so that Emily expected his brass buttons would fire off at any moment.

“Did your rebel friends tell you that the shooting took place only after the Pennsylvania volunteers were cut off from the rest of the Federal forces? After they had been pelted by missiles and cut by shattering glass?”

Emily held her tongue, though she was silently questioning his words. She had never heard of these supposed Pennsylvania men. She doubted Julia had, either. Was it true?

Dr. Mackay stepped closer, his anger seething. “Did they tell you that my brother, an unarmed man, had his head bashed by a paving stone? That he died twelve hours later?”

The disgust she felt instantly evaporated. Whether his facts concerning the riot were entirely accurate or not was not the issue. He had suffered the loss of a loved one. He was suffering still.

His anger must be his attempt to manage the pain. Her heart squeezed. “Dr. Mackay, I—”

“Do not lecture me, miss, about your good citizens of Baltimore! I know perfectly well what you all are capable of.”

He stared at her, his gray eyes as sharp as any bayonet. She held his gaze.

“I apologize for my hasty words, Dr. Mackay. I am truly sorry for your loss. How many years had your brother?”

The old proverb about a soft answer turning away wrath proved true. He looked surprised that she would even ask. His stance softened just a little.

“He was nineteen.”

She grieved any loss of life, Confederate or Federal. The cost of war was much too high. “Too young,” she whispered.

“Aye. ’Twas much too young indeed.”

The color was slowly fading from his face. Dr. Mackay raked back his dark brown hair, looking as if he didn’t know what to say next.

Emily waited, wondering. Will he regain his temper, or will he dismiss me without further word?

He did not have time for either. A steward from Sally and Elizabeth’s section appeared at the door. “Doctor, come quick! Your assistance is needed.”

The call of duty snapped him back to his determined, unyielding state. His shoulders straightened and the commanding physician immediately turned. Emily stared after his broad back until the door closed behind him. Breathing a sigh of relief, she then returned to her own ward.

Chapter Three

By the time Emily stepped back into the ward, Edward’s parents had arrived. Mrs. Stanton was seated in a chair next to her son’s bed, talking to him in soothing tones. Dr. Stanton was standing beside her. Emily did not see Julia anywhere in the room. She wondered if she had gone to break the horrible news to Sally concerning Stephen’s death.

Emily moved to where Edward lay. Ignoring everyone, he had once again turned his eyes to the wall. His parents, however, greeted her warmly.

“Look,” Mrs. Stanton said to her son. “Emily has returned.”

Yes, she thought as heat crept into her cheeks. I have returned. She felt terrible about what had just happened in the corridor. She wondered when exactly the Stantons had arrived, how much of her altercation with Dr. Mackay they had overheard. She knew her voice had carried. She could tell by the grins on the Confederate men’s faces. They all seemed pleased she had put the Federal doctor in his place.

Emily was not pleased. She knew she had set a terrible example, and her timing with Edward had caused him more pain. She knelt beside him.

“Eddie, I am so very sorry for the disturbance earlier. So very sorry about it all.”

He continued to stare at the cracked plaster wall. She dared not say any more. She looked to his parents. Mrs. Stanton had tears in her eyes. Her husband’s face also showed concern.

“Can I fetch you anything?” Emily asked them.

“Some fresh water,” Dr. Stanton said. He picked up the nearby pitcher. “This one is empty.”

She reached for it.