Dec 29, 1863
Sweetfern Farm
Kirkwood, MS
Harm didn't wake during the night; instead he slept peacefully well into the afternoon. When he finally woke, he wasn't sure if he was dead or dreaming. From where he lay, he saw young woman standing in front of a window across the room. The light from the window cast a beautiful shadow around her and illuminated the wispy curls of hair that had escaped her braid, causing her to look like an angel. And then he knew her.
"Diane, am I dead?" he whispered, and at the sound of his voice the angle jumped and spun to face him. She crossed the room in three strides.
"How are you feeling?" she asked reaching out and feeling his forehead.
"Please, Diane, tell me, am I dead?" he pleaded.
"You're not dead. You're alive, and lucky to be so," Mac said, but her voice sounded worried. She looked into his eyes; they were glossy with fever. She walked toward the door.
Harm was suddenly afraid that she as leaving, "Wait, don't leave me."
She looked back at him and smiled. "I'm not going to leave you," she assured him, and then, she called out, "Bobbi, please bring me the poultice, and some hot water and bandages."
Mac tried not to listen to his fevered ramblings while she waited for Bobbi, but she was intrigued. Who was this woman he was mumbling about- mother, sister, wife, lover?
"If I'm alive, then what are you doing here?" he asked softly, "You must be here to help me."
"You could say that," Mac answered, knowing that Harm wasn't speaking to her but to some other woman in his life.
Soon, Bobbi came into the room carrying the poultice, bandages and a basin and pitcher of hot water. Mac smiled tiredly, yet thankfully. Bobbi helped her pull the sheets away from his shoulder, revealing the bandage there. The bandage was no longer clean white, but instead, a pale yellow stain was spreading from its center.
"What are you going to do?" Bobbi asked, trying to sound confident.
"I'm just going to change the bandage and apply a fresh poultice," Mac said, her fingers deftly removing the soiled bandage. "I need to cleanse the area, though."
"He shouldn't move much, but just in case," Mac said, as she wrung out a clean bandage, "Bobbi would you hold his shoulders down."
"Of course, ma'am," she answered, and she took up a position on the other side of the bed, and placed her hands firmly on Harm's muscular shoulders. Mac applied the wet cloth and began to thoroughly clean the area around the wound. Harm only flinched once, and Bobbi's strong arms held him down well.
"How is he?" she asked Mac.
"He's taken fever," she replied, "I need to make up a draft for him, and I may need to reopen the wound, to allow it to clean itself, but it looks alright."
"Is he going to make it?"
"He's strong and, from the looks of it, healthy," Mac said, trying to sound optimistic, "He may pull through."
Bobbi nodded, and decided to change the subject. "The family is safe. You should have seen them eat last night, ma'am."
Mac smiled at the thought, even as she continued to cleanse the pus from the soldier's wound. "They must have been so hungry, and so cold. Have we gotten them proper clothing?"
"Yes, ma'am," Bobbi replied happily, "They've each been given warm sweaters, jackets, sock, and even shoes."
"Bobbi, where did you find shoes to give them?" Mac asked, looking up from the wound, and reached onto the bedside table for a dry cloth.
Bobbi smiled and answered, "I made a pair out that old wool blanket. Gunny had an old pair from when he was child that he gave to the little girl, and the other hands were able to find some old ones that they could part with for the father and son."
"Bobbi, your resourcefulness never ceases to amaze me," Mac said honestly, and she finished drying the wound. "Where is the family now?"
"They're hiding in the passage," Bobbi said, "But the door into the kitchen is open so that they can talk with Hannah, and have light."
"You left them to talk with Hannah," Mac said grinning, as she and Bobbi lifted Harm's sleeping body and wrapped fresh bandages around his wound and the poultice. "She'll talk them out of their minds."
Bobbi and Mac both smiled at the prospect. When that had secured the bandages, Bobbi straightened the covers, and then she sat down next to the bed, and she pulled her knitting basket out from underneath the bed. As she began to knit, Mac was already downstairs making a draft for Harm that would help him to fight the fever.
Harm didn't wake during the night; instead he slept peacefully well into the afternoon. When he finally woke, he wasn't sure if he was dead or dreaming. From where he lay, he saw young woman standing in front of a window across the room. The light from the window cast a beautiful shadow around her and illuminated the wispy curls of hair that had escaped her braid, causing her to look like an angel. And then he knew her.
"Diane, am I dead?" he whispered, and at the sound of his voice the angle jumped and spun to face him. She crossed the room in three strides.
"How are you feeling?" she asked reaching out and feeling his forehead.
"Please, Diane, tell me, am I dead?" he pleaded.
"You're not dead. You're alive, and lucky to be so," Mac said, but her voice sounded worried. She looked into his eyes; they were glossy with fever. She walked toward the door.
Harm was suddenly afraid that she as leaving, "Wait, don't leave me."
She looked back at him and smiled. "I'm not going to leave you," she assured him, and then, she called out, "Bobbi, please bring me the poultice, and some hot water and bandages."
Mac tried not to listen to his fevered ramblings while she waited for Bobbi, but she was intrigued. Who was this woman he was mumbling about- mother, sister, wife, lover?
"If I'm alive, then what are you doing here?" he asked softly, "You must be here to help me."
"You could say that," Mac answered, knowing that Harm wasn't speaking to her but to some other woman in his life.
Soon, Bobbi came into the room carrying the poultice, bandages and a basin and pitcher of hot water. Mac smiled tiredly, yet thankfully. Bobbi helped her pull the sheets away from his shoulder, revealing the bandage there. The bandage was no longer clean white, but instead, a pale yellow stain was spreading from its center.
"What are you going to do?" Bobbi asked, trying to sound confident.
"I'm just going to change the bandage and apply a fresh poultice," Mac said, her fingers deftly removing the soiled bandage. "I need to cleanse the area, though."
"He shouldn't move much, but just in case," Mac said, as she wrung out a clean bandage, "Bobbi would you hold his shoulders down."
"Of course, ma'am," she answered, and she took up a position on the other side of the bed, and placed her hands firmly on Harm's muscular shoulders. Mac applied the wet cloth and began to thoroughly clean the area around the wound. Harm only flinched once, and Bobbi's strong arms held him down well.
"How is he?" she asked Mac.
"He's taken fever," she replied, "I need to make up a draft for him, and I may need to reopen the wound, to allow it to clean itself, but it looks alright."
"Is he going to make it?"
"He's strong and, from the looks of it, healthy," Mac said, trying to sound optimistic, "He may pull through."
Bobbi nodded, and decided to change the subject. "The family is safe. You should have seen them eat last night, ma'am."
Mac smiled at the thought, even as she continued to cleanse the pus from the soldier's wound. "They must have been so hungry, and so cold. Have we gotten them proper clothing?"
"Yes, ma'am," Bobbi replied happily, "They've each been given warm sweaters, jackets, sock, and even shoes."
"Bobbi, where did you find shoes to give them?" Mac asked, looking up from the wound, and reached onto the bedside table for a dry cloth.
Bobbi smiled and answered, "I made a pair out that old wool blanket. Gunny had an old pair from when he was child that he gave to the little girl, and the other hands were able to find some old ones that they could part with for the father and son."
"Bobbi, your resourcefulness never ceases to amaze me," Mac said honestly, and she finished drying the wound. "Where is the family now?"
"They're hiding in the passage," Bobbi said, "But the door into the kitchen is open so that they can talk with Hannah, and have light."
"You left them to talk with Hannah," Mac said grinning, as she and Bobbi lifted Harm's sleeping body and wrapped fresh bandages around his wound and the poultice. "She'll talk them out of their minds."
Bobbi and Mac both smiled at the prospect. When that had secured the bandages, Bobbi straightened the covers, and then she sat down next to the bed, and she pulled her knitting basket out from underneath the bed. As she began to knit, Mac was already downstairs making a draft for Harm that would help him to fight the fever.
