In this moment, p.7
In This Moment, page 7
“You might be out all day with him.”
“Maybe—but I do need to read an article and write a quick paper about it tonight.”
“A quick paper.” Delilah rose from my bed, shaking her head in mock disgust. “It would take me days to write a ‘quick paper.’”
I smiled and walked over to my closet to decide what to wear. I would need to shove aside our conversation, because I was not ready or willing to write off 1861.
An hour later, I was dressed in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt, buttoned down the front. I had gone for casual since we’d be walking most of the day. On my feet were a simple pair of sandals, and I threw my dark hair up into a ponytail. I didn’t want to dress up or look like I had taken a great deal of time with my appearance. This wasn’t a date. It was a casual outing with a new friend.
A new, handsome friend.
Delilah came out of the kitchen eating a donut and met me by the front door as I tucked a few things into my oversized bag. I made a point to look at her donut with disapproval, but she took a big bite and grinned.
“Well,” she said as she sized me up. “Nothing fancy, but you look nice and relaxed. It’s good to see you taking a little time off for some fun.”
“But it’s not a date,” I reminded her. “We’re just hanging out.”
The front buzzer sounded, and I pressed the speaker. “Hello?”
“It’s Seth. Can I come up?”
Delilah nodded emphatically. If I didn’t let her meet Seth, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.
“Sure. We’re up on the top floor.”
“Great. See you in a minute.”
Delilah ran to the kitchen and set down her donut before coming back, licking the frosting off one finger. She looked more excited than I felt—though I was nervous, despite what I’d told her earlier. Even if this wasn’t a date, I rarely hung out with a man alone in any of my paths. In 1861, it was socially unacceptable. In 1941 and 2001, it was out of the fear of falling in love and complicating my choices.
What if Seth and I had nothing to talk about?
Worse—what if we had everything to talk about and I really liked him?
I glanced into the mirror hanging on the wall and took a deep, steadying breath. I could do this. I’d done a lot harder things.
Even though I knew it was coming, the knock startled me, and Delilah stifled a giggle at my reaction. I sent her a warning glare, and she pressed her lips together, her eyes dancing with mirth.
Opening the door, I wasn’t prepared for the man who stood in front of me. Today, he looked casual and alarmingly attractive. He’d been striking in his tuxedo, but the room had been dim, and there had been a lot of people to distract me.
Now Seth stood before me in a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt with a couple of buttons at his throat, which were undone. He had pushed up his sleeves, revealing muscular arms, and tucked the shirt into his trim waist. His blond hair had a bit of a windblown look, and his smile was brilliant and blinding.
“Hi,” he said, taking me in with a quick, appreciative glance. “You look great.”
“So do you.” I tried to smile, but my insides were all mushy, and I couldn’t seem to conjure a logical thought or reaction. Delilah cleared her throat, and I startled again. “This is my roommate, Delilah LeBlanc.”
“Roommate and best friend,” Delilah amended as she reached for Seth’s hand. “Meg told me you’re one of the newest congressmen in town. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” He tilted his head toward the stairs, glancing in my direction. “I kind of double-parked.”
“Got it.” I grabbed my bag. “I’ll see you later, Delilah.”
“Have fun,” she said in a knowing, teasing voice.
I rolled my eyes at her while Seth’s back was turned, and she laughed.
Thirty minutes later, we were at the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center. A convenient public parking garage would give us good access to the National Museum of American History, the National Museum of Natural History, and the National Mall.
It didn’t take long to park and find our way out into the gorgeous day. The Capitol Building stood at one end of the Mall, the Washington Monument stood in the middle, and the Lincoln Memorial flanked the other end. Scattered in between, along both sides of the Mall, were the Smithsonian buildings, the red-brick Smithsonian Castle being one of the more recognizable.
It was already hot as we stood on the crushed gravel path, looking toward the Washington Monument obelisk.
“Can you see where the stone changes color, about a third of the way up?” I asked.
Seth nodded, shading his eyes from the sun.
“They had only gotten that far by the Civil War and didn’t finish it for over twenty years. It was the tallest structure in the world until the Eiffel Tower was built in France.”
“Wow,” Seth said, clearly impressed with the history. “It would have been amazing to live in Washington during the Civil War.”
I smiled to myself, wondering if he would have really enjoyed it. “The city was nothing then like it is today. The streets were muddy, and the federal buildings were so far apart, it was hard to get from one place to the next. But the worst part was probably the dirty canal. It ran through the city, directly between the White House and Washington’s unfinished monument, carrying disease and filth. Some people believe Willie Lincoln contracted typhoid fever from the canal.” I hated thinking about poor little Willie and what his death would do to his parents. “If that wasn’t bad enough, there were constant threats to the residents. You never knew, from one day to the next, if the Confederates were going to overtake the capital.”
Seth stared at me, his eyes shining with admiration and awe. “How do you know so much about the city at that time?”
If he only knew the truth—but he’d never believe me, and I’d never tell him. “I love history,” I said with a smile. “Now, what would you like to do? The city is yours.”
“I’ll go anywhere and do anything you want today. The city might be mine, but today, I’m all yours.”
His words brought heat to my cheeks, though I saw the teasing gleam in his eyes.
“How about we walk to the Lincoln Memorial and then check out the Vietnam Memorial and the Korean War Memorial before we find somewhere to eat lunch? I know this amazing restaurant in Chinatown, if you like Chinese food.”
“I love it. And if you recommend it, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” We started walking west toward the Lincoln Memorial and the Reflecting Pool.
“I guess it takes a bit of charm to be elected to the US House of Representatives at the age of twenty-five.” He grinned at me. “What about you? You’re over here being brilliant, spouting off facts as if you lived through the history personally, and doing it as a fourth-year med student—at the age of twenty. I’m going to be honest, it’s a little intimidating being around you. I feel like I’m going to say something and give away the fact that I’m actually an idiot.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Believe me, I’m not that brilliant. I just work a lot and have no life. Most people could do what I’ve done if they did nothing but study.”
“I hardly believe that, and now I’m adding humility to your growing list of attributes.” He brushed his hand against mine and said, “Not to mention that you’re beautiful. I’ve never met anyone like you, Meg. I really do feel honored to spend the day with you.”
His words sounded genuine, though I didn’t deserve such praise. I knew my faults and limitations, but my heart did a little flip anyway. “Thank you. I feel the same way about you.”
“Mutual admiration is a great way to start a friendship.” He grinned. Then slowly, as if weighing his words carefully, he said, “I was going to wait until the end of the day to ask you this—after I knew whether or not you liked me—but I have tickets for the National Symphony Orchestra’s spring concert at the Kennedy Center next weekend, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”
I focused my attention on the Washington Monument as we passed by. It was easy to like Seth Wallace—too easy. If I didn’t have 1861 and 1941, I could see myself saying yes to his invitation. Being with him felt effortless and a little thrilling. Having him look at me the way he did, with those charming blue eyes, made my stomach fill with butterflies. Yet I had made a promise to myself, and I would stick to that promise. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for anyone, at any time, until I’d made my final decision.
“I’m sorry, Seth.” I swallowed my disappointment. “I do enjoy your company very much, but I have less than nine months left—of med school. I really have to focus all of my attention on my work right now if I want to get a residency position at GUH. If things were different, I would say yes without a doubt.”
“I suppose there has to be some sacrifice, if you’re going to be brilliant.”
I smiled, appreciating his willingness to accept my decision without making me feel uncomfortable. So many others made me feel guilty for putting my work above everything else. “A lot of sacrifice, especially for the next nine months.”
“So,” he said gently, slowly, “you’re saying that I have a chance in January?”
Warmth filled my cheeks again, and I dipped my head. “Maybe.”
“Then that’s all I need to know.” He motioned toward the Reflecting Pool. “Let’s go have some fun and not talk about it anymore.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“But I can’t promise I won’t be secretly looking forward to January.”
For the first time in my life, I could say the same thing . . . almost.
7
APRIL 25, 1861
WASHINGTON, DC
Spring had finally returned to the city, bringing with it warmth and sunshine, drying some of the mud, and coaxing tiny flowers from the earth. Leaves unfurled on the trees, and birds twittered in the branches, unaware of the growing threats on every side of the city.
It had already been a week since nine hundred soldiers arrived from Baltimore, but along with them, word had come that twenty miles of train tracks had been destroyed between Baltimore and Washington, cutting us off from the rest of the nation and preventing more soldiers from arriving. Telegraph wires had also been cut, our mail and newspapers were being withheld, and Virginia farmers refused to cross the Potomac to bring food into the nation’s capital.
Though the president had called for seventy-five thousand soldiers ten days ago, less than two thousand had arrived. Threats of a Confederate invasion pulsated through the city, and everyone believed an attack was imminent. The local militia, which should have amounted to seven thousand men, was drastically reduced as Southern sympathizers refused to swear an oath to the Constitution, and many of them left to join the regiments assembling in Virginia.
The fear was palpable as I walked into the US Capitol Building that morning. My own trepidation at disobeying Papa made my heart pound fast. What if he learned that I had come to nurse the injured soldiers? I had never willfully disobeyed him in the past. To do so now, on top of all his other worries and concerns, would devastate him. Yet I could not sit back and do nothing while others were suffering.
The Capitol was Papa’s usual domain, but now that the Senate was in recess, the risk of being seen by someone who might know him—or me—was not as great. Though there was still a risk. I scanned the rotunda for acquaintances as I made my way down the long hall to the Senate chambers, trying to hide my face as best as I could.
When I entered the Senate chambers, I immediately found Clara Barton serving soup from a big tureen. Massachusetts soldiers made a winding line through the room. Several of the men smiled at me when they recognized me from the train station.
“Good afternoon, Miss Barton,” I said. I had not seen her since the Baltimore soldiers had arrived—or since Papa had forbidden me from helping them. There was only one way I could continue to do so. “May I speak to you?”
“Yes, of course.” She wiped her hands on her apron and handed the soup ladle to a capable-looking soldier. “What can I help you with?”
It was embarrassing to admit the truth, but there was nothing I could do about it. “My father was angry when he learned I assisted at the train station last week.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’m not surprised. He has a reputation to uphold.”
“He doesn’t want me to help any further, but if I can alleviate the suffering of just one person, I must.”
“I know how you feel.”
I thought she might. “I must ask that you call me by a different name when I am in public and that you do not tell anyone else about my involvement. I cannot risk him knowing.”
She didn’t hesitate. “What shall I call you?”
“Maggie Hollingsworth.”
“Agreed, Miss Hollingsworth.” She smiled. “I saw that the Anderson brothers returned to their regiment yesterday.”
“Bartholomew is completely recovered,” I assured her. “I’m here to check on Farnum.”
“He seems to be resting comfortably.” Clara indicated where Farnum was lying on the Senate Chamber floor near a large marble column. “But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. I think you’ve gained an admirer.”
Noise echoed in the room as the men laughed and joked, waiting for instructions from their superiors. Daily drills were taking place on the Capitol lawn, and everyone was on high alert, should they be called up to defend the city.
“I’m happy you’ve come,” Clara said with deep concern in her eyes. “I’ve been doing all I can to gather supplies for these men, but I’ve exhausted many of my resources. I’ve tried to gain an audience with Mr. Lincoln, but he’s been preoccupied, as you can imagine.”
“What can I do to help?”
“I don’t move within the same circles as you, and there is a great untapped potential with those who have the means to procure the supplies we need.”
She meant that my friends could afford more than most.
“Will you campaign for help?” Clara asked. “With more soldiers expected, I believe the need will only increase.”
Her request would be easy to fulfill. Tonight, I would attend a ball at the home of Salmon Chase, the Secretary of the Treasury. His daughter, Kate, was the belle of Washington, and her parties were often attended by elite members of society. Some of her guests were key strategists in the war, and others might be part of the Southern spy ring that was sneaking information out of Washington. But no one could be certain.
I planned to keep my eyes and ears open.
“I will gladly put out the call for supplies,” I assured Clara. “And I will start this very night.”
“You are a godsend.” She placed her gentle hand on my arm. “I don’t know what we would have done without you at the train station.” She had not asked me where I learned my medical skills, and I hoped she never would. I didn’t want to lie, but I could hardly tell her the truth.
A few moments later, I approached Farnum to check his wound. “Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson,” I said as I knelt beside his makeshift pallet. It was a far cry from the guest bed at our home, but Papa had given us no choice but to return the Anderson brothers to their regiment.
Today I wore a simple dress, appropriate for work, though it still ballooned around me with petticoats, and I had to push it back to get close to him. How I missed my scrubs.
He opened his eyes and offered me a surprised smile while trying to sit up.
“Please don’t.” I laid my hand on his arm. “I’m just here to look at your wound and see if it’s healing properly.”
“It still hurts a mite,” he said, “but it don’t feel infected.”
“I’m happy to hear that. May I look?”
He nodded and laid his arm across his stomach while I slowly removed the bandages. To my relief, I found it healing well and the stitches still holding secure. “I’ll remove the stitching in a day or two,” I told him. “Everything looks good.”
“You’re coming back?” he asked, hopeful.
Smiling, I applied fresh bandages and nodded.
As I worked, I looked up and noticed a gentleman speaking to a soldier behind one of the large columns. The gentleman had his back toward me, but he looked like Mr. Cooper. The two spoke in hushed tones, and the soldier glanced over his shoulder from time to time, as if he was afraid he’d be caught.
When the gentleman turned to look out at the room, I saw his side profile and realized it was Mr. Cooper. He, too, looked to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.
I lowered my face quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see me, confused by what I saw. Why would Graydon Cooper be in the Senate Chambers speaking to a soldier? And why did it look so secretive? Did these men know each other?
“Farnum,” I said as I finished bandaging his arm, “do you know that solider near the column?” I motioned to him with my head since my hands were occupied.
Farnum glanced over and squinted, then said with a scowl, “His name’s John Severs, and he’s from Kentucky. Joined up with our troops just before we got to Baltimore, claiming he wanted to support the Union. He keeps to himself, but everyone thinks he’s a Southern sympathizer. No one talks to him for fear he’s working for the enemy. I don’t know the other fellow.”
What in the world was Mr. Cooper talking to a Kentuckian about?
As I watched, the conversation came to an end, and Mr. Cooper turned to leave. My heart pounded in my ears as I faced away from him again, not wanting him to see me.
When I finally chanced a look back, he was gone.
I could hardly think of anything other than Mr. Cooper as I traveled in the carriage to the Chases’ mansion on E Street that evening with Papa. The Chases lived in a beautiful house nine blocks east of the White House. Kate, like myself, played official hostess for her father, a widower. He had tried to get the Republican nomination for president the year before, but it had gone to Abraham Lincoln and, in the process, Kate had snubbed Mary Lincoln. Their public rivalry continued when President Lincoln asked Mr. Chase to be the Secretary of the Treasury and Kate had moved to Washington with her father. She snubbed Mrs. Lincoln every chance she could get, and since most people did not care for Mrs. Lincoln, Kate had become Washington’s sweetheart.
