The Nurse

By Judy White

1864 Boston, Massachusetts
The ink smeared, leaving Cynthia’s name a blurred mess at the end of her letter. Hoping to dry the remainder of the ink, she pinched her lips together and blew across the page. Looking around her bedroom, she would miss the cozy warmth her lace and floral surroundings provided her. This didn’t stop her from wanting to embark on this adventure. Tucking away her most treasured items, her newly purchased journal, little blue bottle of ink, a few quill pens and several cedar pencils, she took one last long look at her large oak armoire and lace curtains.
Skirts rustling as she hurried down the red carpet of her family home’s stairwell, she quickly dropped the letter on the dining room table and ran out the door to the little black carriage and her future. Pulling out her new journal from her lightly packed satchel, she found the wrinkled paper with her destination and handed it over to the carriage driver. He eyed the document and peaked at her from the corner of his eye; one eyebrow raised, shrugged and encouraged the horses to move.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ilovetoreadandwritebooks
• Release date: Jul 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463440193

Book preview

1864 Boston, Massachusetts

The ink smeared, leaving Cynthia’s name a blurred mess at the end of her letter. Hoping to dry the remainder of the ink, she pinched her lips together and blew across the page. Looking around her bedroom, she would miss the cozy warmth her lace and floral surroundings provided her. This didn’t stop her from wanting to embark on this adventure. Tucking away her most treasured items, her newly purchased journal, little blue bottle of ink, a few quill pens and several cedar pencils, she took one last long look at her large oak armoire and lace curtains.

Skirts rustling as she hurried down the red carpet of her family home’s stairwell, she quickly dropped the letter on the dining room table and ran out the door to the little black carriage and her future. Pulling out her new journal from her lightly packed satchel, she found the wrinkled paper with her destination and handed it over to the carriage driver. He eyed the document and peaked at her from the corner of his eye; one eyebrow raised, shrugged and encouraged the horses to move.

As they moved across the cobbled streets, carriage bouncing, Cynthia started a new entry in her leather bound journal.

1864

June 5th- Nervous, but elated I embark on my journey. The war has already seen three summers of blood and gore. My family will surely suffer a significant amount of shock from my secret endeavors. When father mentioned a possible marriage to Henry Cobb, my reluctance blossomed into full blown defiance. I could not possibly marry Henry, I felt repulsed at the very idea. They have been calling for extra volunteer nurses to aid the war efforts for quite some time. With the passing of my eighteenth birthday, I willing signed to join these valiant efforts. I must close as this dreadful carriage ride is jostling my very soul.

Webb, Cynthia.

*

August 30th 1864

William Byrd looked out at the sea of grey Confederate uniforms moving through the tree line. A jumble of bodies, uniforms, smoke and flags waving through the chaos flooded his senses. He could smell the gun powder mixed with blood and the bitter scent of rot and death. They were fighting a bloody battle, losing several good men.

Sergeant, the General has ordered us to move the rest of our men forward. The young private hustled on down the line of men, looking for others of higher rank to pass the word. William placed his right hand over his sword and his left over the handle of his .32 revolver. He was tired of the war, and had lost track of time spent on the battlefield. His stomach longed for a good warm meal and some strong whiskey. After rallying the other men, they moved on foot towards the chaos, hoping to lend aid to their men and end the bloodshed.

They charged the Confederates, and one by one, soldiers from both armies fell as muskets, revolvers, and unsheathed swords wrung out. The ground shook from the weight of bodies running and falling. A sharp burning pain, like a hot iron piercing his flesh and striking bone, shot through Williams right thigh and spread up through his scalp. He stumbled to the cold, wet ground and before the black enveloped him, a boot was falling fast for his head.

In his delirium, he dreamed he was being dragged by a pack of wolfs. They ripped at his flesh and carried off parts of his blue uniform. He could even hear their clawed paws ripping away at the fabric...those paws, were hands. Hands were tearing away his uniform. Where was he? It was dark, save for the little bit of candlelight. The pungent smell of antiseptic and the sharp all too familiar smell of blood evaded his nostrils. Filthy instruments and hands worked hastily to disrobe him.

The sound of screams filled his ears, and the clink of metal as medical instruments were dipped in antiseptic and sent to work clanged out across the medical tent. A sudden burst of pain roared through his body, as the field doctor explored the gunshot wound on his leg. Spots formed in his vision and once again the ceaseless void of blackness overtook him.

*

Cynthia was shocked at the sight of blood on her first day of training. Without warning, the women that had volunteered to aid the war effort were thrown into basic nursing care. Her first day she learned to