CHAPTER ELEVEN

The stench of raw death hung in a thick cloud over the air. Cries and wails of pain formed a sick chorus everywhere around him for there was no escaping it. Ben Davidson woke with an excruciating headache, everything was blurry and he had no idea where he was. All he knew was that his head throbbed, and the stench made his stomach churn. Between the churning of his stomach, and his raw biting hunger, Ben's stomach was nearly as bad as the headache. There was also a sharp, searing, pain that pulsated deep into his thigh. He held a man near him yelp in horror and pain. His vision returned, and Ben spotted flies everywhere, for it was dreadfully hot. Between the flies, the cries, the pain, the smell of sweat, blood, and death, and the heat Ben used up all of his strength to roll over in his cot and vomited onto the ground. The vomit only made his throat, and inside of his mouth burn, as well as the smells around him worse.

"Water," he choked. It was helpless with all the other men crying and screaming. The man in the bed next to him was trembling and hallucinating. Ben Davidson would have to wait, for there were many soldiers in far worse condition than he. He closed his eyes and put forth an effort not to pass out. The pain in his thigh throbbed all the way down to his knee.

I must think of something far away from here, away from this place, this horrible place. I must think of something that makes me happy, very happy. Happier than anything in the world. And there she was, Felicity running into Mr. Merriman;s shop, out of breath, her nose red from the sun. The stubborn freckles that he loved that she always complained about, made visible because she was always forgetting her hat. Once, Felicity had forgotten her hat and went to Miss Manderly's, and Mrs. Merriman had him deliver it to her.

Ben lay in a makeshift hospital for the wounded somewhere in Pennsylvania. The hospital was made up of open tents, with flimsy cots, some of the wounded lay on the ground on rough blankets. The tents were overflowing with people all where in pain, all were wanting help. Finally Ben did get some help. A woman was going around with a tin cup and a pail of water, giving drinks. The water was warm, but to Ben just having water in the blistering heat was a miracle. Then the woman took a damp cloth, and began to dab at his face and forehead.

"Is that you Felicity?"He asked half consciously. Felicity would keep him going. She could save him, just like she did when he had run away to join the army, and hurt his leg. She had made it better.

"Your name lad?" A man asked.

"Benjamin Davidson," Ben choked. "Where am I? Why am I here?"

"You were shot," the man replied. "There was a bullet in your left thigh. You are here to recover. We need your name, so we can put you on a list of wounded."

"How long will it take?" Ben asked. "I don't want to be down and useless, I want to go back."

"I don't believe you will be going back to war. What good would a limping soldier with a crutch be? When you are well enough, we will send you home."

Home didn't sound that bad. Home was far away from sickness, blood, death, and filth. It meant seeing Lissie, who wrote those love letters so sweet. With the postal service being in disarray, and the army constantly on the move, receiving letters was a rare treat. He hadn't received one of those cherished letters in over a year, He was going to come home to his dear sweet Lissie.

Back in Williamsburg, Felicity felt as if she had dodged a bullet with Nan. As far as she knew, nothing about Doctor Matthews had been mentioned to Father. Just when she thought she was just off the hook, Father called her into his office one evening after supper.

"I need to have a talk with you Felicity," Father said in a serious and stern voice. "Make haste, tis urgent."

"What is the matter Father?" Felicity asked sweetly. The gruff look on his face also indicated that this was not good.

"I have been very disappointed with the way you have running my store, when I am away. I can no longer trust you with it anymore," he said.

"Father, what have I been doing wrong?" Felicity asked.

Father sighed

"Shelves do not get restocked, orders are not filled when I return, when I give you a job to do, I suspect it finished when I return."

"The store gets busy," Felicity stammered. "Customers."

"Felicity I have been running a store for seventeen years, I know how busy a store is on a Wednesday afternoon. There is no excuse for you not to have what I ask finished when I return from my meeting," Father was yelling. Father was not a man to yell. Felicity hung her head in shame.

"I am so sorry," she said. "I promise to do better next week."

"Well there is no next week," snapped Mr. Merriman. "I am pulling you from working in the store for a while. Nan will cover for you."

"Nan!" Felicity shrieked, her voice raising an octave. "Nan loathes the store, she hates working there!"

"Lower you voice young lady!" Mr. Merriman commanded. "Nan told me that she stopped into the store to find you doing nothing but talking to a young gentlemen, and there were no other customers. You should have been packing orders for delivery. Now I know that you and Nan have an ongoing war between you two, that by the way is really distressing your mother. To make sure that Nan wasn't exaggerating things I had a chat with Mrs. Fitchett, Mrs. Stone, and Mrs. Field, and they all mentioned this Doctor Matthews fellow."

For once, Felicity Merriman was speechless. Father began to pace back and forth, as she sat quietly on the settee with her hands folded in her lap.

"I had to have the same talk with Ben a few years ago about chatting too much with the ladies. I run a business, and a business is not a place to receive your callers. If this Doctor Matthews who nobody seems to know anything about, wishes to see you he can come ask my permission, like a proper gentlemen."

"He is a Patriot Father," Felicity said.

"I don't care if he is George Washington himself," retorted Mr. Merriman. "My daughter is a lady, and she will be courted such as one. Until he asks my permission, you are not to see him again. Is that clear?"

"Yes Father," Felicity nodded solemnly. She felt that she had done everything except get down on her hands and knees and beg Andy to see her father. She had lost him. She had lost her sister, her job in the store, and most of all her father's trust. Felicity had never felt so rotten and empty.

"When will I be able to return to the store?" Felicity asked.

"Mr. Merriman shrugged.

"When you can again be trusted to conduct yourself professionally in my store," he replied.

With a heavy heart Felicity trudged upstairs to her bedchamber. Nan was reading the Book of Common Prayer in bed. At the sight of her sister, a spark went off inside of Felicity.

"You conniving, despicable, witch!" Felicity cried, raging into the room and knocking Nan's book out of her hands. "I am repulsed that your blood runs through my veins!"

"Whatever are you talking about?" Nan asked calmly.

"You know very well you useless piece of rubbish. You have made my life miserable, so are you happy now? Will you finally leave me alone?"

"Felicity I have done nothing wrong," Nan said with an innocent and stupid look on her face. Andy was right. She did have one of those faces that you just wanted to smack, so Felicity did. She smacked Nan right across the face, harder than she had intended to. Felicity gasped at her hand in disbelief. Nan was shocked and held her hand to the red mark on her cheek.

"You are a monster," Nan whispered and then broke out into tears and shrieks. She fled the room, running to Mother and Father. As far as Felicity was concerned Father could do more to punish her. She couldn't work in the store, or see Andy again. Let Nan run and whine like a baby!

"Stay out of my bedchamber!" Felicity screamed and pulled the door shut and locked it. She was not letting Nan back in the room tonight, "I am not sharing a bedchamber with her anymore," Felicity promised herself. "I will sleep in the stable loft if I have to!"