Wedded to War by Jocelyn Green Read Free Book Online

“promenade” on Broadway had the sound of a leisurely stroll about it, but it was impossible to maintain anything lessthan a brisk pace to keep from getting run over. The booming city’s major thoroughfare was a profusion of color and a stimulus of excitement. It was hustle, bustle, and squeeze, like a dance of faltering steps to the offbeat tune of thundering omnibuses and the din of a crowd in a hurry. Charlotte would have preferred a stroll in Central Park, if not for the quieter atmosphere, for the fresher air. The musky scent of Phineas’s cologne was soon overpowered, and she was sure her mother and sister would smell on her clothing the horse manure of Broadway when she arrived home.
    Phineas, Charlotte could tell, relished being caught in the whirl. His countenance always brightened around luxury and opulence, and here on Broadway, both were displayed en masse in the storefronts lining the avenue. Places like Lord & Taylor and Brooks Brothers usually caught his eye, but today he paused in front of Tiffany & Company, gazing at the dazzling ladies’ jewelry displayed on black velvet, with a firm hold on Charlotte’s small, gloved hand.
    “Phineas.” Charlotte tugged gently on his arm. “Did you hear me? I said I’m going to apply to be a nurse.”
    He swiveled around to face her. “Pardon me?”
    “Yes, a nurse. The W.C.A.R. means to train one hundred New York women to serve as nurses for the army—the army doesn’t have enough, you know—and I mean to be one of them.”
    His brow furrowed. “But how would that look?”
    “Patriotic,” she said, a little too quickly. “Dutiful. Benevolent. Respectable, too.”
    “Just how would it be respectable to have women mixing with large masses of half-naked men?”
    “Phineas, listen to me. The most respectable women—and men—of our class are behind this. Reverend Henry Bellows, Dr. Elisah Harris, Mrs. David Dudley Field, Mrs. Henry Baylis, Mrs. Cyrus Field, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell … all of them.” When he still looked unconvinced, she continued. “The army is simply unprepared to handle the magnitude of what is about to unfold on the battlefields. Why not use womenwho are willing, able, and most eager to serve? Think of it this way. When a doctor or surgeon makes a house call, who takes care of the sick or wounded when the doctor leaves?” She paused. “The women do. The mothers, wives, sisters, sometimes even daughters receive instructions from the doctor or surgeon, clean and dress the wounds, administer the medicines. We are already nurses. This is just moving it to a different setting. Not every soldier’s mother or wife will be able to tend their own. Only a select few will fill that role—but we must have training. Do you see?”
    “I don’t like it. I’m afraid most people won’t think about it in the same way. But if you insist on being stubborn about it …”
    “It is what I want.” She pinned him with a determined look. She didn’t really need his permission.
    Suddenly, a woman in a bright green gown, too low in the neckline for daytime wear, and with a bonnet pushed too far back on her head, sauntered past, leaving behind her a trail of lilac scent so thick Charlotte could taste it.
    Charlotte followed Phineas’s gaze in time to see the woman look back over her shoulder and throw him a brazen wink and a smile as bold—and sickening—as the heavy fragrance in which she was drenched. Her cheeks were painted. In a flash, Phineas’s face flamed just as red, but playing around the corners of his mouth was just the hint of a smile.

Tuesday, April 30, 1861
     
    N one of it seemed real to Ruby O’Flannery. The noise was deafening, the glaring sun unfriendly to her weak green eyes. Far more used to shadows, she felt as though she had just stepped into a scene in an overexposed photograph. Thousands of people lined the sidewalks, pushed against windows, or streamed out of doors all along the road. New York City’s Sixty-Ninth