"You are a fool, do you know that? All your life you have hoped to find this –– a wife and a family –– and now you have both. Why are you trying to destroy it, Charlie? And you may as well answer me. I am not leaving until you do."
Charlie rolled over onto his back, winching when the bandages rubbed against his tender, just healing flesh, and glared at Elizabeth. "Look at me, Elizabeth and tell me honestly. Will I ever be whole again? Will I ever be able to hold my children in this arm?" He lifted his right arm as far as he could, which was scant inches above the bed. "Will I teach my sons to run and ride with this leg?" He snorted. "And my beloved. What will she see when she looks at my body? Will she see the ‘‘Greek Goddess’ she once called me, or will she see a cripple, riddled with terrible, ugly scars, who can no longer stand to be touched because of the pain? Leave me, Elizabeth. The Charlie you knew died at Appomattox Station."
"You...you..." Elizabeth tried to control her anger but decided against it. "Damn you, Charlie Redmond! Do you have any idea how many people worked to save your life? Do you have any idea that when you were wounded your men mourned more for you than when President Lincoln was killed? Damn it, Charlie, men who were free to leave when the truce was signed, stayed in camp until the day you were sent home. And I worked so hard to save you life! I should have taken your leg. It caused us days of trouble, but we were tireless in your care so you would not lose it. Damn you! Damn you taking your life for granted when so many men and boys lost theirs..." She was shaking so hard now it was all she could do to resist the urge to slap him.
Charlie looked at her coldly. "You should have let me die." He turned back away from her, to resume his vigil through the window. Here was his dream; he wanted it to be the last thing he ever saw, since he could not bear to look into Rebecca’s eyes and know how terribly he had failed her.
"How dare you! I am a doctor and my first oath is to save lives. You may take it for granted Charlie, and you may not care now, but there are people who love you and who want you around. You can believe whatever you like, but do not dare to ever tell me that I should have let you die!"
Jocko, having turned Em over to her mother and given the puppy to Colonel Richard’s care, quietly returned to the room. He heard the last words and knew that Charlie would not respond. Silently, he took Elizabeth’s arm and escorted her from the room, closing the door behind them.
Charlie lay silently looking out the window, unseeing, blinded by the tears that filled his eyes and soaked his pillow.
--*--
Monday, May 8, 1865
Rebecca found that having Richard and Elizabeth around did help ease the stress, if not the pain, of the situation with Charlie. The unexpected return of her cousin, Albert, from the war had eased the stress of trying to run the stables with just Tarent and MacFarlane’s help. She had heard he was dead, though there had never been a confirmation of his demise. He was cut from the same cloth as her father and was more comfortable with horses than people.
That left her own heartache and the children for Rebecca to manage –– more than enough for one woman to deal with at any time. It was a beautiful day, clear with bright sunshine. Rebecca thought that spending some time in the sun, with the babies and the puppy might help ease Em’s melancholy. So Sarah prepared a picnic lunch and the whole family, including Richard and Elizabeth, and Albert, adjourned to the little patio by the pond for lunch.
Em sat on the ground with Albert and played with some stick figures he had fashioned for her. Richard was holding his namesake and making truly silly noises, which almost made Rebecca’s frustration and the pain melt away as she watched him. She held little Charlie close to her and looked up to the windows of Charlie's office. "I am at my wits’ end, Elizabeth. I am so tired."
"I know, dear. So am I. Somehow, something has to get through to him. But I swear, I have no idea as to what." Elizabeth thought for a moment. "So, tell me about your handsome cousin."
Rebecca smiled at Albert, who was trying so hard to make Em laugh. "He is my father's sister's eldest son. Of her three boys, he is the only one to return from the war, and like me he has no family left. So he came here. I loved Albert like a brother when I was a child and I am glad to have him here."
"Well, he certainly has brought some cheer into this house. I am glad you have help."
Rebecca nodded, shifting little Charlie when he started fussing. "I hope someday Charlie will want to meet the entire family."
Albert interrupted their conversation. "Excuse me, Doctor Walker, but about that black stallion you brought in with you? He really needs to be exercised, but no one seems to be able to saddle him. I wonder if you would mind if I gave it a try?"
Elizabeth and Richard both chuckled. Richard responded. "Young man, that horse has never been ridden by anyone but General Redmond and, on very rare occasions, Sergeant Jackson. If you are brave enough to step into the stall or the ring with him, please feel free. Just be warned that Jack has a temperament all his own."
Em heard the name of her Papa’s horse. If Jack was at the house, then so was Papa. Excitement lit her face. "Jack, Jack, Jack," she chanted.
Albert looked surprised. This was the most animated he had seen his little cousin since he had arrived. "Do you want to go with me to see Jack, Em?"
She nodded emphatically and climbed to her feet. "Jack, Papa 'orsey."
Rebecca could not help it. Em was so determined and so cute about it and she was so relieved that Em finally was showing interest in something –– anything –– that she laughed out loud.
Albert hefted the child in his arms. He had shed his coat in the warm weather and stood in just his shirtsleeves, holding the little girl who was holding onto his neck tightly. "Then let us go see a ‘‘orsey."
--*--
Charlie lay in his cot, watching the scene play out before him. His wife, his children, his friends, and this strange, handsome man in the place where he wanted to be with all his heart and knew he could never be again. Charlie’s heart lay shattered in the remains of his mangled flesh, rotting on the field at Appomattox Station. The man was tall, dark haired, well built, with a flashing smile and an easy grace. Em clearly trusted and loved him. He could make Rebecca smile. Maybe this was the man that Rebecca should have been with. Charlie wished with all his heart that Jocko had left him at least his sword.
He watched as the man lifted Em in his arms and walked toward the stables. They entered, and a few minutes later, emerged with Jack on a lunge lead. The three of them entered the small paddock, with Jack following the man like a well-trained nag. Where was Charlie’s fierce warhorse? With Em perched on his shoulders, the man put Jack through his ground paces. One of the grooms brought Jack’s saddle and bridle, taking Em from the man’s arms for a few moments while the man tacked Jack up. Then, with Jack standing quietly for him, the man swung up into the saddle, took Em from the groom and set her in front of him, and trotted Jack out of the paddock.
Charlie could not stand it any more. He struggled to pull himself up from the bed and worked his way around the room, looking for something, anything that he could use to end his life. There was nothing left for him. He cleared the old desk, searching in the drawers for a knife, a rope, anything. Finally, in his weakened state, he fell into the old leather chair by the fireplace. There he sat and sobbed out his rage, his frustration and all the pain in his soul.