"Perhaps I could have a little more tea? Your kind caring cannot help but make me feel better soon, ma'am."
Charlie lay there, trying to be gallant. Well, trying to be civil. Just talking was a strain. Maybe the bed would just absorb me. It would feel better than this.
Rebecca helped him with the tea, smiling gently, wishing there was more she could do for him. "The good news is the storm has let up. A little too late for you I am afraid."
Charlie groaned. "Oh Lord. My men. How are my men? Did Jocko come by? Is Polk taking care of them? How much damage?"
She ran her fingers through his hair. "I know you do not feel well, Charlie, but do not you remember Sergeant Jackson coming by earlier? You sent him off with his orders for the day."
Without thinking, Charlie leaned his head into her hand. He felt so miserable and her touch felt so good. He wanted to just lay his head on her breast and be held like a child. A vague memory flitted through his mind, of a lovely, delicate woman with dark hair and laughing blue eyes who had held him in her lap when he was small and sick and made it better.
After she left, there was no one who took care of him when he was sick. Until now. Unbidden, and unwanted, tears came to his eyes.
"Oh, Charlie," She soothed. "It is going to be all right. You just need to rest. I will take good care of you, you need not worry about a thing." She just wanted to hold him and make him believe it the way she did.
He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly, leaning back against the pillow again. "Oh yes. Yes. I remember. The damage is not as bad as I feared." Turning to look into her eyes, needing at least a little more contact, he felt an aching loneliness that, coupled with his illness, made him more miserable.
The look in his eyes was one she had never seen before. It was the look of a child, a lonely, lost, miserable child. Then he dropped his eyes to her hand, lifting it and tenderly kissing the back of her hand. "Thank you. Perhaps I could handle a little bread?"
She broke off small pieces of bread feeding them to him from her own hand. "Is there anything more I can do for you? You will ask me if there is, will you not? Do not make me guess, Colonel, it is hard telling what I will do to you if left to my own devices." She teased a bit as he took another bite of the bread.
In a very small voice, punctuated by his careful chewing and swallowing of the small bit of bread, he responded, "I do not know what to ask. Usually when I am sick, I just stay in my tent and Jocko brings me water every so often."
A coughing fit took him for a moment, but the tickle in his throat was eased by another sip of the tea that Rebecca handed to him. "Eventually, I get better."
He continued to eat the bread, savoring the feather light touch of her fingers against his lips as she fed him.
"Well, you will need more than water to get through this. If you can think of anything, and I mean anything, that will help you. Do not be afraid to speak up."
"Please, just stay with me." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Just being with her made him feel better. It had been so long since anyone cared for him - just for him, that he craved this companionship like a dying man craves water.
"I swear to you, Charlie, I am not going anywhere. I will be right here with you. I promise."
He caught her hand and brought it to his cheek. It felt so cool and so soft. His voice was husky, but she could not tell if it was because of the cold or something else. "You are so kind to me, Miss Rebecca. I am sorry to be so childish and demanding. I just……" He looked into her eyes as he slowly, reluctantly let go of her hand. Weakened by the cold and fever, shaken by the impact of the memory of his mother who had died when he was only four, all of the pain and loneliness and despair of his life showed in that moment.
"Shush, now do not be ridiculous. You are not being the least bit demanding. And I told you I enjoy taking care of you. In a few short weeks, you have given me back something I did not realize was missing. It is nice to have someone who needs me again."
"I did not mean to impose. But it does feel nice to be tended. I... I have not had anyone take care of me like this since I was very small. You could spoil me. Why, if this was how you take care of sick people, I might have to get sick more often." A weak attempt at humor was about all Charlie could manage right now, but he had to do something. He was desperate to get the relationship back to a more even keel, or he was going to break down and beg to be held.
Rebecca sighed, shaking her head. Colonel Redmond was a tough nut to crack, it was becoming clearer with each passing day. "Colonel, let us get one thing very clear. You are not imposing." There was so much she wanted to say but she was not sure how much was appropriate right now. She had only known him for a short time, but she was beginning to feel as if she had known him forever and as much as it amazed her, she really did feel affection for him, even after such a short time.
"I care about you, Charlie, and I want to see you better very soon. You have an inspection coming up and I hope to bribe you into another wonder ride before the weather turns."
"Well then, Ma'am, I will surely get better quickly under your care, and Shannon is always there to be at your service."
He smiled wanly at her, and went on. "But, Miss Rebecca, we have taken over your farm, you life, we have made things uncomfortable for you with your neighbors, and I have taken over your bed and used it as a sick room. If that is not imposing?"
She smoothed the blankets at his chest. "It is not, trust me when I tell you this. If it were you would most certainly find yourself in your tent on a very hard army cot." She looked out the window. It was still very early and Charlie needed to rest. "I think you need to sleep, Colonel. And I could most certainly take a catnap. Would you be terribly uncomfortable if I settled in on my side of the bed for a bit of rest?"
Charlie shifted as she lifted the tray off the edge of the bed and took his empty cup. "Of course, Miss Rebecca. It is your bed," Almost under his breathe, he added, "and I am always comfortable when you are beside me." As she settled into the bed, he reached out and took her hand in his, holding it gently.
Chapter 8
Friday November 18, 1864
Rebecca placed the washcloth on the rim of the basin. She glanced back at Charlie who was finally sleeping restfully. She had gotten very little sleep the previous night. The Colonel had been tremendously fussy, thrashing about in the bed. She had done everything she could, sitting up most of the night continuously wiping his forehead and neck with cool cloths.
She reached for her chemise, slipping into it before reaching for her dress. She had considered taking the time for a proper bath, but did not want to be away from Charlie for that long. So, she simply prepared a basin, stripped out of her clothes and had a quick washing.
As she buttoned her dress, she watched Charlie. He curled up and rolled over, reaching to her side of the bed and pulling her pillow to him. She could not help but smile, for some reason she was still trying to understand, in her heart that action made her very happy.
She finished dressing then went to his side, giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. "Sleep well Charlie, we have another long day ahead of us.
--*--
She left the room, going first to the rooms that would house Dr. Walker. They were as ready as they could be, but by no means what Rebecca wished they could have been. Her home had once been so beautiful and now it had been reduced to a mere shell of its former glory.
Knowing there was nothing more she could do for the room, she closed the door then went downstairs. She was putting the kettle on to boil when there was a rapping on the back door. She opened it to find, four faces staring back at her, each of them holding two small bags. The young man spoke first.