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"He called your name, you know."

"No, I did not know. Thank you for telling me. Thank you for being there to hear it."

"It was the last thing I heard him say." Duncan looked up at her, tears running down his cheeks. "I wish it had been me."

Rebecca moved forward and wrapped her arm around him. "You should not speak like that, Duncan. I do not like it and the General certainly would not like it. You did what you had to do and I am convinced you saved my husband's life. For that I am grateful to you, always. Now stop saying these things and be glad you are both alive." She gave him a hug and pulled back with a smile. "That is an order by proxy. When the General is capable, I will have him reaffirm it."

Duncan smiled a rather watery smile and pulled himself to attention. With a left handed salute, he responded, "Yes, ma’am, Mrs. General, ma’am."

Rebecca patted his cheek. "Good boy, Duncan." She turned and opened the tent flap as she stepped inside she got her first good look at Charlie. Without taking another step she turned to the side of the tent and promptly vomited.

Chapter 34

Saturday, April 15, 1865

Elizabeth looked up and glared at Rebecca. She was working on a particularly nasty and sensitive part of Charlie’s wound, trying to save a vital tendon from being destroyed by the invasive infection. "If you must do that, at least take it outside."

Rebecca gasped and gratefully took a cup of water Jocko thrust into her hand. She rinsed her mouth, spitting into a bucket near the door. "I am sorry." She took a tentative step toward Charlie. "How is he?" She wanted to cry but she knew now was not the time, now was the time to be strong.

Elizabeth continued to focus on the wound she was cleaning. "To be honest, I am not sure why he is still alive, but he is, and as long as he continues to fight, we have a chance to save him. I just have not yet found the source of the continued infection. So I keep looking." She glanced up for a moment, and then barked an order. "Jocko, get someone to clean that mess up, please."

Rebecca took another step forward. Elizabeth's appearance frightened her almost as much as Charlie's. Charlie's wounds and injuries were physical; Elizabeth's were clearly emotional. "Can...can...I hold his hand?"

Elizabeth sighed deeply. "Rebecca, if there is anything you can do to give him strength, please do. I am sorry I snapped at you. It is just that I am so tired and have tried so hard. I swear I do not know what else to do. I just cannot seem to beat this infection."

Rebecca found a crate and sat down on Charlie’s other side . She took his hand. With her other hand she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "I am here, my love." She leaned over and gently kissed his fevered brow. Then she looked at Elizabeth. "If it is not too presumptuous of me, I would like to make a suggestion."

"I will take any suggestion you have. Jocko came up with washing the wounds with boiled brine. It has helped some."

"I know it may not make much sense, but when I was growing up, my mother always used honey to draw out infections. I never knew her to use anything else."

Elizabeth frowned and looked at Charlie’s wound. Somehow she knew there still had to be something from the shell left in the wound that was causing this continued infection. But finding some small shard in that mess of chopped meat was almost impossible. Anything that would tend to draw it out would help. "Would you alternate it with the brine washes?"

"Yes, honey applied to warm soaked cloths, left just long enough to draw the infection to the top, then cleansed with the salt solution or possibly alcohol."

"Or perhaps a hot honey compress? Left on for say half an hour at a time? Then cleaned with a warm brine wash to flush out anything the honey drew? We would need heat to melt the honey, I would think."

"Yes, that is how it is done, for the most part. My mother used this cure on every living thing on our farm at one time or another."

Jocko spoke up. "Yes, damn me, me mother used honey for every scratch and scrape we had as children. Seemed to work too. I am just sorry I di’ not remember it."

Elizabeth looked directly into Rebecca’s eyes. "Do you think you could stand to help with it? Charlie is in a pretty bad way, and these are ugly wounds. The stench of the infection is nauseating. It would be very hard, and I do not want to ask you to do anything you do not feel comfortable with."

"Elizabeth, I will do whatever you or Charlie need. I did not come here to say goodbye. I came here to take him home."

"Good. Come over and sit beside me. I will show you how to clean and dress each of his wounds."

Rebecca nodded, then pushed up the sleeves of her dress as she moved next to Elizabeth. She took a deep breath, clenched her jaw and vowed not to vomit again. She also commanded herself not to cry at the sight of Charlie's wounds. Mrs. Redmond was resolute. She was going to save Charlie's life.

Elizabeth was working on Charlie’s hip and thigh. From halfway between his knee and hip up almost to his waist, his right side was raw. He was missing a chunk about the size of Rebecca’s hand of the heavy muscle in his thigh. At least the lower part of the wound was clean and showing signs of beginning to heal. A large chunk of his buttock was also gone, but this site was angry, inflamed and infected. There were several pocket of pus; the wound was oozing and stank of infection. Elizabeth carefully opened the pockets of puss with the tip of a small scalpel, drained the infection, and rinsed the area with warm brine. "When I finish, you can make a honey compress for it, if you would."

"Of course." She looked to Jocko. "Can you please go find some honey? I believe Charlie may have had some in his personal things. It will be in a black clay jar. Lizbet sent it with him, along with a few other comforts from home."

"Yes, ma’am. I know what you are speaking of. But, I think that we have some in the mess. I can save your special honey for his tea when he can have some. I will be right back with it, and with more boiling water."

"Thank you." Rebecca then set to finding clean cloths that could be used to make the warm honey poultice. She glanced back to watch Elizabeth open yet another pocket of infection which ran red and yellow with pus. She saw Elizabeth clench her jaw as she took a small cloth and dabbed out the mess that was so significant it was running freely onto the sheets.

She found a package of boiled lint in the surgical tray. Sure that she would have what she needed, she turned back to Elizabeth. "Let me finish. You look exhausted."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. You need to learn how to do this if you are to care for him."

"Just tell me what to do." She took the seat Elizabeth vacated and picked up the scalpel. "I am ready."

"Look for the places that look shiny and rounded. The shine is from the flesh being drawn tight from the infection underneath. Make a small incision, perhaps a finger’s width long, and let it drain. If you can, press on either side of the lump to push out any additional puss." Elizabeth looked at Rebecca, who had paled noticeably. "It does not hurt as much as you might think, and it feels much better afterwards. The pressure and heat of the infection is terribly painful."

Rebecca nodded, wondering briefly if she could actually do this. Then she remembered she had helped her father do similar things to injured horses, and if she could do it for an animal, she could certainly do it for someone she loved. She steadied her hand and made the first cut, being very careful to do exactly what Elizabeth had told her. "Like this?"

"Good, but you need to cut a little deeper –– you will actually feel your knife break through to the infection. It is considerably less dense than the muscle tissue."

"All right." She tried again, making the cut a little deeper and a little longer. When she did, the cyst broke open covering her fingers in sticky yellow fluid.

"That is exactly right. You go ahead, I will just watch to make sure you get everything."