Mackay moved just a few paces in front of her. He was back to barking orders.
“Steward, move this man to surgery! Clean up this pallet! Fetch me a fresh bucket of water!”
As she dressed the wounds, Emily watched boys in blue, many younger than she, scramble to do his bidding. She felt sorry for them. It seemed even Unionists were terrified of Dr. Mackay.
Abigail’s verse drifted through her mind. Love your enemies. Bless them that curse you. Knowing that compassion should be shown to surly Yankees as well, Emily set down her basket and went to Eliza Henry.
Going out of my way to show kindness to him might encourage a little on his part. It might ensure better treatment of the wounded men.
“Cup of water for you, dear?” the woman asked when Emily approached her.
“Please.”
She drew out a tin cup from the cloth pouch on her shoulder, then scooped up the water.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Emily marched straight to the blistering Scotsman. The man had just finished ordering a Federal nurse to bring him more thread. She looked as though she was about to cry.
“But there isn’t any more,” she insisted. “We are almost out of iron wire, as well!”
“Then procure some from another section.”
“The other surgeons are almost out.”
“Then go down to one of the shops and purchase some!”
The woman ran off, apparently to do just that. Emily touched his sweat-drenched sleeve. He turned, practically glaring at her.
Kind words for him in short supply, she had to rely on action alone. Emily handed him the cup. Emptying it in one gulp, he rubbed his glistening forehead with the back of his hand and then returned to work.
There was no thank-you.
“I may know of some available thread,” she said.
He pulled a piece of lead as long as her finger from a man’s arm. “Then by all means, fetch it!”
Tucking the cup into her skirt pocket, she hurried for the hospital. She was certain she would find Julia inside at her usual post. Her friend always kept a carpetbag with her full of knitting or sewing projects. If anyone had thread, it would be her.
The West’s Buildings felt like a furnace. Emily scarcely believed inside could be hotter than the outside under the baking sun, but it was. The heat made her a little light-headed, but she climbed the staircase quickly.
As she had hoped, Julia was seated beside Edward’s bed, fanning and reading aloud from the Psalms. He was ignoring her. She turned as Emily approached, then gasped.
“Oh, Em! Your face is as red as a ripe strawberry!”
Emily wasn’t surprised. “I forgot my sunbonnet and we have been treating the new wounded outside all morning.”
“Then by all means, take mine.”
Julia reached for a lovely little green silk bonnet on the table beside her. Emily appreciated her gesture but couldn’t be certain it would survive the day.
“That’s sweet, but what I really need is thread. Have you any?”
“Of course. Right here.” She reached into her bag. “I have two spools...gray and black.”
“May I have them both? We are completely out.”
“Certainly.”
Emily slipped them into her pocket alongside Dr. Mackay’s cup. She leaned closer to take a quick peek at Edward, but could tell there was no change.
As she straightened up, Julia set her bonnet on Emily’s head and quickly tied a pretty bow.
“Thank you,” Emily said, “but I can’t promise I’ll be able to return it in any condition for you to wear again.”
Her friend waved her off. “It is a small price to pay for those caring for our men.”
As they walked toward the door, Emily asked about Sally.
“She took the news as well as could be expected,” Julia said.
“Poor thing.”
“She and her father have gone to the battlefield to look for themselves.”
Oh dear, Emily thought. So the Hastings family has gone to search for Stephen’s body, to bring him home for a proper burial. “If you hear from her, will you let me know?”
“Of course.”
Only then, as Emily gave a quick glance around the room, did she notice another soldier now occupied Billy’s bed. Her heart immediately squeezed, for she knew what must have happened.
“He died during the night,” Julia said, guessing what she was thinking. “Jeremiah said the Scottish doctor took him to surgery, but the poor man didn’t survive the operation.”
Though civility compelled at least a moment of pause, an acknowledgment of a life that had passed, Emily knew there was not time. Dr. Mackay needed his supplies. Outside was a dock full of soldiers who could still be saved.
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