Early Morning
Dec 31, 1863
Sweetfern Farm
Kirkwood, MS
When Sturgis returned as he had promised, Mac had finally gone to bed. It seemed to her that she'd only slept a few minutes, when she woke again. She dressed quickly, in another simple brown skirt and a cream shirt, before she went down to the kitchen for a breakfast of tea and porridge.
She'd just finished eating when the Roberts joined her. "What are you doing up so early?" Mac asked.
"It's after seven," Harriet said brightly, placing little AJ on her lap as she sat down beside Mac.
Bud got together breakfast for his family, and then took a seat next to Harriet. Mac watched quietly as they at together as a family. He mind drifted back the dreams she had once had of having her own family. Ever since she was a little girl she'd dreamt of having a family, a family different from her own.
"Mac," Harriet said, touching her arm.
"Hmm," Mac answered.
"I just asked what we can do to help prepare for tonight?" Harriet said.
"Um, actually, I think everything's covered," she replied, but just then Hannah came down the stairs interrupting the conversation.
"Miss Sarah, you'd better get up to the West room," she said casting a wary look at her, "That lieutenant is acting up, and Bobbi's having a hard time controlling him."
Mac rose immediately, and taking the stairs two at a time, arrived in the West room on the third floor in almost no time. She pushed open the door, and saw Bobbi struggling to hold the lieutenant down.
"No, you've got to stay put, Lieutenant. You'll hurt yourself even more," Bobbi was trying to explain.
"You can't keep me here," he said loudly, still struggling, but Mac seeing that he was about the jump out of bed, rushed across the room, flung herself on top of him. She pinned his shoulders down, careful not to apply pressure to his wound, and knelt beside him, causing the hoops of her skirt to collapse and flatten.
"Look, I'm not about to let you ruin all the hard work I put into that shoulder, Lieutenant," she said crossly, "It's too soon for you to be moving about."
He fell back against the pillows; all the color drained from face. His breathing quickened. "Diane?" he asked breathless, just before he passed out from the exertion.
Mac took her hands from his shoulders, and slid off the bed. Bobbi stood shakily beside her. "Mac, I didn't know what to do," she explain, "He just woke up and kept saying that he had to leave."
Mac nodded. "I think the fever may have broken overnight," she said examining the wound and the wet sheets around his shoulders, "Yesterday's rest was good for him."
"Then, why did he just faint?" Bobbi asked.
"I don't know," Mac said, "The exertion was probably too much, too soon. He'll wake again soon. Would you go down and have Hannah bring up some breakfast for him?"
Bobbi nodded and turned to leave, but Mac stopped her and said, "Then, you should get some decent sleep."
Bobbi smiled, and disappeared through the door. Mac went about the room and lit the lamps, for it was too dangerous to open the curtains and reveal that there was a sick man lying in the room. As soon as she could see properly, she turned back to tending the lieutenant. For the first time since he'd arrived, she allowed herself to really look at him.
Despite his faint, his skin had recovered enough of its color for her to see that he was tanned, like most of the other soldiers. His hair was unkempt and his cheeks and chin unshaven, but he was still unmistakably handsome. He looked to be a few years older than she was, maybe twenty- five years old.
His eyelids began to shudder as Mac removed the old bandage from his shoulder. She bent her head and looked closely at the wound. It was no longer yellow from infection, but healthy red. Thankfully, they stitches hadn't been ripped out by his activity, and hopefully, in another couple of days he'd be up and moving again.
While Mac had been examining the wound, Harm's eyes had fluttered open. He remembered seeing her face just before he passed out, but this time, he looked at her more closely. He observed the wild way her long hair hung over her shoulder in a single loose braid. How she moved with a strength and grace as she bandaged his shouldered. She looked so much like.
"Diane," he whispered, "Am I dead?"
Mac's head shot up, and she looked into his deep eyes. "No, you're alive," she finally told him, "You're in friendly hands."
He blinked. "Friendly hands," he repeated, a silly grin on his face, "Come on, Diane. We were more than friends."
Mac put her hand to his forehead, and she felt the heat radiating from it. His fever hadn't broken as she had hoped. She turned away from him and when she turned back she pressed a cold cloth to his forehead.
"Mm," he groaned, "That feels much better."
Mac continued to dab at his face and throat, all the while he talked to her as if she was Diane.
"Remember the day we went met in Maryland?" he said dreamily, "You were with your brother. He was so protective when he discovered I intended to." His eyes suddenly opened and he looked at in a way that broke her heart. "What happened that day? I've never been able to find out how you. how you."
Mac's eyes widened in sad comprehension, as what he must be thinking dawned on her. He thought that she was his dead lover come back to guide him into heaven or to keep him company until he was better.
He became pensive, wondering why this apparition wasn't answering his questions. "Diane, won't you speak to me?"
"Lieutenant," she began, but she stopped when Hannah came into the room carrying the tray of breakfast. She got up to help her with it.
"Diane, wait," he called urgently.
"I'm not leaving, lieutenant," Mac told him softly, "I'm just preparing your breakfast."
"Who's Diane?" Hannah asked, giving Mac a shrewd look.
Mac shrugged. "I think she's an old love of his. He thinks he sees her, in me."
Hannah nodded sympathetically. "Must be the fever talking." And as Mac nodded, she left.
Mac picked up the bowl and spoon and returned to the bedside. She placed the bowl on the bedside table, and reached over to him.
"I've got to raise you up so that you can eat. This may hurt," she warned him softly. "Put your good arm around my neck." He raised put his arm about her neck, and she slipped her arm beneath his neck. She raised him, and he groaned in pain. Mac tried to settle the pillows behind him as quickly as she could.
When she guided him back down onto them, he collapsed against the pillows. He was breathing hard, and new sweat had burst onto his forehead. "Diane, what happened to me?"
When Sturgis returned as he had promised, Mac had finally gone to bed. It seemed to her that she'd only slept a few minutes, when she woke again. She dressed quickly, in another simple brown skirt and a cream shirt, before she went down to the kitchen for a breakfast of tea and porridge.
She'd just finished eating when the Roberts joined her. "What are you doing up so early?" Mac asked.
"It's after seven," Harriet said brightly, placing little AJ on her lap as she sat down beside Mac.
Bud got together breakfast for his family, and then took a seat next to Harriet. Mac watched quietly as they at together as a family. He mind drifted back the dreams she had once had of having her own family. Ever since she was a little girl she'd dreamt of having a family, a family different from her own.
"Mac," Harriet said, touching her arm.
"Hmm," Mac answered.
"I just asked what we can do to help prepare for tonight?" Harriet said.
"Um, actually, I think everything's covered," she replied, but just then Hannah came down the stairs interrupting the conversation.
"Miss Sarah, you'd better get up to the West room," she said casting a wary look at her, "That lieutenant is acting up, and Bobbi's having a hard time controlling him."
Mac rose immediately, and taking the stairs two at a time, arrived in the West room on the third floor in almost no time. She pushed open the door, and saw Bobbi struggling to hold the lieutenant down.
"No, you've got to stay put, Lieutenant. You'll hurt yourself even more," Bobbi was trying to explain.
"You can't keep me here," he said loudly, still struggling, but Mac seeing that he was about the jump out of bed, rushed across the room, flung herself on top of him. She pinned his shoulders down, careful not to apply pressure to his wound, and knelt beside him, causing the hoops of her skirt to collapse and flatten.
"Look, I'm not about to let you ruin all the hard work I put into that shoulder, Lieutenant," she said crossly, "It's too soon for you to be moving about."
He fell back against the pillows; all the color drained from face. His breathing quickened. "Diane?" he asked breathless, just before he passed out from the exertion.
Mac took her hands from his shoulders, and slid off the bed. Bobbi stood shakily beside her. "Mac, I didn't know what to do," she explain, "He just woke up and kept saying that he had to leave."
Mac nodded. "I think the fever may have broken overnight," she said examining the wound and the wet sheets around his shoulders, "Yesterday's rest was good for him."
"Then, why did he just faint?" Bobbi asked.
"I don't know," Mac said, "The exertion was probably too much, too soon. He'll wake again soon. Would you go down and have Hannah bring up some breakfast for him?"
Bobbi nodded and turned to leave, but Mac stopped her and said, "Then, you should get some decent sleep."
Bobbi smiled, and disappeared through the door. Mac went about the room and lit the lamps, for it was too dangerous to open the curtains and reveal that there was a sick man lying in the room. As soon as she could see properly, she turned back to tending the lieutenant. For the first time since he'd arrived, she allowed herself to really look at him.
Despite his faint, his skin had recovered enough of its color for her to see that he was tanned, like most of the other soldiers. His hair was unkempt and his cheeks and chin unshaven, but he was still unmistakably handsome. He looked to be a few years older than she was, maybe twenty- five years old.
His eyelids began to shudder as Mac removed the old bandage from his shoulder. She bent her head and looked closely at the wound. It was no longer yellow from infection, but healthy red. Thankfully, they stitches hadn't been ripped out by his activity, and hopefully, in another couple of days he'd be up and moving again.
While Mac had been examining the wound, Harm's eyes had fluttered open. He remembered seeing her face just before he passed out, but this time, he looked at her more closely. He observed the wild way her long hair hung over her shoulder in a single loose braid. How she moved with a strength and grace as she bandaged his shouldered. She looked so much like.
"Diane," he whispered, "Am I dead?"
Mac's head shot up, and she looked into his deep eyes. "No, you're alive," she finally told him, "You're in friendly hands."
He blinked. "Friendly hands," he repeated, a silly grin on his face, "Come on, Diane. We were more than friends."
Mac put her hand to his forehead, and she felt the heat radiating from it. His fever hadn't broken as she had hoped. She turned away from him and when she turned back she pressed a cold cloth to his forehead.
"Mm," he groaned, "That feels much better."
Mac continued to dab at his face and throat, all the while he talked to her as if she was Diane.
"Remember the day we went met in Maryland?" he said dreamily, "You were with your brother. He was so protective when he discovered I intended to." His eyes suddenly opened and he looked at in a way that broke her heart. "What happened that day? I've never been able to find out how you. how you."
Mac's eyes widened in sad comprehension, as what he must be thinking dawned on her. He thought that she was his dead lover come back to guide him into heaven or to keep him company until he was better.
He became pensive, wondering why this apparition wasn't answering his questions. "Diane, won't you speak to me?"
"Lieutenant," she began, but she stopped when Hannah came into the room carrying the tray of breakfast. She got up to help her with it.
"Diane, wait," he called urgently.
"I'm not leaving, lieutenant," Mac told him softly, "I'm just preparing your breakfast."
"Who's Diane?" Hannah asked, giving Mac a shrewd look.
Mac shrugged. "I think she's an old love of his. He thinks he sees her, in me."
Hannah nodded sympathetically. "Must be the fever talking." And as Mac nodded, she left.
Mac picked up the bowl and spoon and returned to the bedside. She placed the bowl on the bedside table, and reached over to him.
"I've got to raise you up so that you can eat. This may hurt," she warned him softly. "Put your good arm around my neck." He raised put his arm about her neck, and she slipped her arm beneath his neck. She raised him, and he groaned in pain. Mac tried to settle the pillows behind him as quickly as she could.
When she guided him back down onto them, he collapsed against the pillows. He was breathing hard, and new sweat had burst onto his forehead. "Diane, what happened to me?"
