Chapter Ten

Washington City
April 1862

Julia dipped her sponge in the basin of water and wrung it out, then bathed Private Ellis Miller’s face and neck. His body shook with chills.

“That water is c-cold, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, Ellis, but we need to bring your fever down. This is the only way.” She unbuttoned his nightshirt and sponged his chest the way Mrs. Nichols had instructed her. She had been embarrassed to do it at first, realizing at last why everyone was so opposed to hiring young, unmarried women as nurses. But she’d grown used to such duties in the weeks since the measles epidemic had begun.

“You sure this will make me better?” Ellis asked.

“It’s what the doctor ordered.” Julia couldn’t meet his gaze. Ellis’ skin was so hot she wondered why it didn’t turn the water into steam. His chest heaved beneath her hand as he labored to breathe. A sponge bath was not going to make him better.

Ellis Miller was nineteen years old, a farm boy from Ohio who had never been away from home before—nor had he been exposed to measles until the army had crammed him into a camp with masses of men from all over the country. He was a polite, gentle boy, and Julia longed to help him get well. Instead, he grew steadily worse. His fever soared and his lungs filled with fluid, until now he drifted in and out of delirium, coughing and fighting for every breath he took.

“S-seems like a waste to die this way, doesn’t it?” he said through chattering teeth. “I never fought a single Rebel. It’ll all be for n-nothing.”

Julia had wrestled with the same question as other innocent young men had died from measles and chicken pox over the last few weeks. But her job was to encourage and cheer her patients, not regale them with her own doubts and fears.

“You mustn’t think about dying, Ellis. Think about pleasant things. I’ll bet a nice young fellow like you has a girl waiting back home, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t have one.” He covered Julia’s hand with his own as she bathed his chest, and held it against his heart. “Will you be my girl, Julia? You’re the prettiest lady I ever saw.”

“You’re sweet, Ellis. If only I’d met you sooner …but I’m afraid you’re too late. I’m already married.” She squeezed his hand and then let go.

“Say, Julia,” the soldier in the next bed called out, “you promised to leave your husband and marry me, remember?”

“I did no such thing,” she said, smiling.

“She’s right,” someone else called. “Because she’s leaving her husband for me, not you. I was here first.”

“Tell me about this husband of yours,” a third man said. “I’ll bet I’m ten times the man he is.”

“I don’t know,” she said, laughing. “You’re only a private and he’s a lieutenant.” Julia was glad to see that they’d made young Ellis Miller smile, too. She was enjoying the good-natured banter when she suddenly heard Dr. McGrath’s stern voice.

“Mrs. Hoffman, may I see you for a moment?”

Julia buttoned Ellis’ shirt and pulled the covers up to his chin. Then she stood and followed the doctor out into the upstairs hallway, closing the wardroom door behind her.

The doctor absently combed his fingers through his auburn hair as he waited for her. His face wore its habitual, pain-pinched expression. Julia couldn’t understand why anyone would continue to drink alcohol when it made him feel so perpetually miserable. She thought Dr. McGrath would make a fine exhibit for the temperance movement. “

Private Miller has pneumonia,” he said abruptly. He glared at Julia as if it were her fault.

“I feared as much. What I can do?”

“Nothing. He’s going to die. Quite soon, I would expect.” He continued to stare at Julia. She waited. “Will you be able to handle it professionally when he does, Mrs. Hoffman?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you flirting with him in there just now. In fact, you flirt with all the men. They’re all falling in love with you, and you’re encouraging them.”

“I do not flirt! I have no interest in any of my patients other than seeing them get well. Besides, they’re only joking. They don’t mean anything by it. I thought a little good-natured fun would boost morale.”

He didn’t reply right away but studied her as if she were a scientific specimen. She resented his scrutiny.

“You’re very nai ve for a married woman,” he finally said. “How long did you enjoy marital bliss before your officer-groom left you?I would guess that it wasn’t very long. You have no understanding of how a man reacts to a woman.”

Julia was momentarily speechless—and quite certain that her face had turned crimson. “Are we going to start sharing all the details of our marriages with each other?” she managed to say.“Because you once told me that your wife and daughter were none of my business.” Her words seemed to roll right off him.

“Perhaps I will have to tell you bluntly how men react—they simply look at someone like you and begin having impure thoughts.”

“That’s outrageous! I am dressed exactly as Miss Dix specified. Very plainly and modestly!”

“If we put you in a nun’s habit it wouldn’t stop their thoughts.”

He made a rude gesture to indicate her bosom, and Julia raised her hand to slap him. He caught her by the wrist, stopping her. “I think you will have to leave, Mrs. Hoffman.”

“Why? Because of how I look?” She jerked her wrist free from his grip, and the abrupt motion made several of her hairpins slip loose. Her hair began to fall free around her face. “You can’t send me away for that! Ask the matrons about my work. Ask the other nurses if they think I’m doing a good job.”

“It would be for your own good. To avoid a bad reputation. Some of these men are going to return to their camps raving about the pretty young nurse they fell in love with. Suppose word gets back to your beloved lieutenant, locked away in his dungeon prison? Will he be gracious and understanding about your behavior?”

Julia was so angry she could barely speak. “If I’m not doing a good job, if I’m a terrible nurse, then go ahead and fire me. But don’t give me all this pious nonsense about my reputation. That’s none of your business and neither is my ‘beloved lieutenant.”’

“If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d admit that this work isn’t what you thought it would be. I can see right through you, Mrs. Hoffman, and what I see is a spoiled little rich girl out to prove some ridiculous point. You weaseled out of your work in the linen room by hiring servants to do it, and I’m wondering how much longer you’ll keep changing sheets and giving sponge baths before you give up on that, too. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but it’s time for you to quit. Go home. You don’t belong here.”

“I will not quit!” Julia’s entire body trembled with rage. “You have absolutely no grounds to fire me, so you’re taking the coward’s way out by intimidating me and bullying me so that I’ll fall apart and leave. Well, it won’t work. I don’t care how miserably you treat me—the only way I’ll leave is if you order me to go.”

“And if Julia goes, we go, too.”

Julia turned at the sound of Mrs. Fowle’s voice. The matron stood in the hallway behind Julia with Mrs. Morris and Mrs. Nichols. They couldn’t have made a more formidable trio if they’d been armed with a cannon.

“We’re tired of losing good nurses to your bad temper, Dr. McGrath,” Mrs. Fowle said. “We need Julia’s help. She is an excellent nurse.”

Dr. McGrath folded his arms across his chest. “I see. Is this how it’s going to be? Mutiny at Fairfield Hospital?”

Julia was stunned to see a fleeting look of pain cloud his eyes, as if it had hurt him to find himself standing alone, despised by everyone. Then it vanished, and he was his usual cocky self again. “How much is she paying all of you to stand up for her?”

The accusation was so absurd that the women could only stare at him in disbelief. In the stunned silence, Julia heard the telltale groan of the front door opening. Then, a moment later, a man called, “Hello…? Is anyone here?”

Julia knew that voice. It was Congressman Rhodes. Fear tingled through her. Before any of the others could react, she hurried down the stairs to greet him, knowing that if he talked to anyone, if he asked for “Miss” Hoffman and gave away her lie, Dr. McGrath would fire her on the spot.

“Why, Congressman Rhodes, it is you,” she said, forcing a smile.“I thought I recognized your voice.”

“Julia, my dear. You look …quite …well.” His lie was obvious. He had reacted too slowly to disguise his shock at seeing her. And Julia knew she looked shocking. Her dress was water-spotted, her hair was falling down, and she was certain that her face still bore the unmistakable stain of anger.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said, rolling down her sleeves and smoothing her hair. “What brings you here?” Although Julia suspected she knew all too well what had brought him—her father.

“Why, I’ve come to see you, of course. Here you are, all alone in Washington, and you haven’t even visited us once. You promised you would, but you haven’t. So I came to see you.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket as if to blow his nose, but Julia caught a whiff of the cologne that permeated the cloth and knew he was using it to cover the stench of sickness. She watched him glance around the foyer and saw it as he must see it. He would report every shabby detail to her father in Philadelphia. Julia longed to take the congressman someplace else to talk, worrying that Dr. McGrath would come thundering down the stairs any minute. But there was no place to go. The doctor’s office was in its usual messy state. Today, even his chairs were stacked with papers.

“This is quite a place,” Rhodes said. “I’ve never been to a military hospital before. I must say, it looks most unpromising from the outside. Perhaps, if you could spare the time, you might give me a tour of the inside?”

Julia glanced at the stairs again. There was still no sign of Dr. McGrath. “I would love to, Congressman, but first I need to know if you’ve ever had the measles.”

“You mean the childhood disease? I really couldn’t say.”

“Well, we’re coping with an epidemic of it at the moment. The army moved all the stricken soldiers out of their camps and sent them to the hospitals in order to stop the spread. I would hate to have you contract it, too. Perhaps you could come back next month and take a tour?”

“Next month? Julia, just how long do you plan on working here?”

“For as long as I’m needed.”

He looked dismayed but quickly hid it behind a broad smile. “Listen, my dear. The thing is, I’m going home in two weeks. I promised your father I would see how you were faring and maybe bring you home for a little visit, too. What do you say?”

The mention of home brought a wave of homesickness. The doctor’s earlier accusation had struck its mark. Julia was discouraged and disappointed with the menial drudgery of nursing work. Giving sponge baths and fanning patients to cool their fevers had not been very rewarding. She’d found little satisfaction in doing tasks her servants had always done at home, such as changing bed linens. The little joy she had found came from talking with her patients—and that had just earned her a reprimand from Dr. McGrath.

Julia longed to go home to Philadelphia with Congressman Rhodes. But knowing that the doctor would celebrate her departure made her all the more determined to stay. Besides, she couldn’t quit now after the other nurses had just risked their own positions to stand up for her.

“Shall I talk to the Acting Surgeon on your behalf?” Rhodes persisted. “See if I can get you some time off?”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “Getting time off won’t be a problem.” Coming back would be. If she left now, the doctor would never let her through the door again. “Give me time to think about it. I’ll let you know.”

Rhodes opened his mouth as though he might argue with her, then seemed to change his mind. “As you wish, my dear. In the meantime, Mrs. Rhodes insists that you come for dinner on Saturday, and I’m afraid she won’t take no for an answer. She is so eager to see you again.”

“I’d be very happy to come.”

“Splendid. I’ll send a carriage to fetch you at six. Your father told me where you’re staying.”

Her father. Julia’s suspicions had been correct. He was the source of this new campaign to pressure her.

“Tell Mrs. Rhodes I look forward to seeing her.”

On the evening of the dinner at the congressman’s house, Julia dug down to the bottom of her trunk and pulled out the only party gown she’d brought to Washington—and discovered that it was wrinkled beyond wearing. At home she would have given it to the servants to freshen up, but Julia didn’t have any servants. She recalled, yet again, Nathaniel Greene’s accusation that she couldn’t do a thing for herself and hurried downstairs to borrow an iron from the landlady.

The cook was preparing dinner on a blazing hot stove, so Julia worked gingerly, remembering how she had burned a hole in one of the bed sheets with an iron that was too hot. Loretta and Belle had taught her how to test the irons by spitting on her finger and touching it to the metal, and she took care to do this. But the process was long and tedious. The skirt of her gown had yards and yards of fabric in it, and the space she’d been given to work in the hot kitchen was cramped.

When the dress finally looked presentable, Julia raced upstairs again and begged the girl who lived in the room next door for help with her corset laces and hoops. Ironing had taken so long that Julia had to hurry with her hair—and the steamy kitchen had made it so curly it was nearly impossible to tame. Every time she brushed it back to pin into a bun, more loose curls would spring free and fall around her face. There wasn’t time to fix it. She heard the congressman’s carriage arrive.

Julia glanced in the mirror and saw that she didn’t need rouge. Her cheeks were still rosy from working in the hot kitchen. She stuffed her feet into her dainty evening slippers and found they barely fit after spending so much time on her feet at work. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to calm herself, then gathered her cloak and purse.

The landlady and all the boardinghouse girls were preparing to sit down for dinner when Julia descended the stairs. They stared at her, openmouthed.

“You look beautiful,” one of them said in awe. “Like a princess in a fairy tale.”

“Thank you.” As the coachman helped Julia with her coat, she saw in the hall mirror that it was the truth. In her gown of pale green silk, which draped flatteringly around her shoulders and bosom, she was a different woman from the prim nurse in the highcollared mud-brown dress.

When she arrived at the congressman’s house it was like entering another universe, worlds away from the dismal hospital and boardinghouse. His home was awash in glimmering candlelight and the sweet aroma of fine food and wine. Soft piano music blended with the distant sounds of laughter and tinkling china and the ring of fine crystal and silver.

“You look lovely, my dear. Simply lovely,” the congressman said in greeting.

Mrs. Rhodes embraced her and kissed her cheek. “Julia, it’s so good to see you again.” A liveried butler took her cloak.

Julia wondered if this was how explorers felt when they returned to civilization after spending months in the wilderness. She was immediately drawn back to her familiar world, to the warmth and music and laughter, like a bird to her beloved nest. She didn’t care what Mrs. Rhodes’ motive was for inviting her, she was simply grateful to be back. Indeed, why had she ever left?

The congressman tucked Julia’s hand beneath his arm as he led her toward the party. “Come, my dear. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

She walked with him into the drawing room, exulting in the feel of her billowing hoops and whispering petticoats. There were several other guests in the elegant room, most of them mature couples her parents’ age. But Mr. Rhodes led her to a young man in his mid-twenties, lounging against the fireplace. He gaped at Julia as she approached, wearing a look of surprise on his face that surely matched her own. It had never occurred to her that the congressman would conspire to play matchmaker. She was so astonished she nearly laughed out loud.

“Julia Hoffman, I’d like you to meet Hiram Stone.”

“I’m delighted,” Hiram said, beaming.

“The pleasure is mine.”

He was a very attractive man with light brown hair and a neatly groomed mustache. She watched him bend to set his glass on an end table and saw grace and strength in his tall body. Broad shoulders filled his expensive, hand-tailored suit. But what drew Julia to him irresistibly was his easy smile. Laugh lines curved naturally from the corners of his blue eyes as if his cheerful good nature was habitual. After spending the last few months with a scowling, disheveled doctor and desperately ill patients, it was a refreshing change to be with a man who was healthy and happy.

“Hiram is a graduate of Yale, my alma mater,” Congressman Rhodes said. “He was a first-rate oarsman on their championship crew team.”

“Congratulations,” she said. That explained his athletic build.

“Julia is the daughter of a dear friend of mine in Philadelphia— Judge Philip Hoffman. Since you’re both new to Washington City, I thought you might have something in common.”

Hiram hadn’t taken his eyes off Julia since she’d entered the room. She remembered Dr. McGrath’s crude words about the effect she had on men and couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to her face. But Hiram was a gentleman, unlike the boorish doctor, and she saw only admiration in his eyes. And surprise. When he’d come alone to the dinner party, he’d likely never imagined that his blind date would be so pretty.

“Now, if you’ll please excuse me,” the congressman said, “there’s someone I must see.” He patted Julia’s hand and hurried away to greet another guest.

“He plays the role of Cupid rather well, wouldn’t you say?” Hiram asked with a grin.

Julia couldn’t help smiling in return. “All he lacks is a bow and a quiver of arrows.”

“They’re serving punch over there. Shall we get some?” Hiram took Julia’s elbow as they crossed to a table with punch and hors d’oeuvres. She couldn’t help brushing against him in the crowded room, and the excitement she felt was new and altogether thrilling— so much so that she struggled to make polite conversation.

“What brings you to Washington, Mr. Stone?”

“It’s Hiram. And may I call you Julia?”

“Please do.”

“I’m here on business. My family owns a manufacturing firm in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and I’ve come to negotiate a military contract with the army.”

Julia knew she should show interest in his work and inquire about the nature of his factory, but curiosity overruled her manners at the mention of Hiram’s home state. Dr. McGrath was from Connecticut, too. If she could learn the truth about his mysterious past, perhaps she could use it as ammunition against him. The doctor would never be able to bully her or intimidate her again.

“I’m working for a physician from Connecticut,” she said. “New Haven, in fact. Isn’t that where Yale University is? I wonder if you’ve heard of him by any chance—Dr. James McGrath?”

“Sorry, I can’t say that I have. But New Haven is a good-sized city,” he said, smiling, “and I’ve managed to stay healthy enough to avoid doctors. Congressman Rhodes told me earlier that you did nursing work in a military hospital. What made you decide on such an unusual pursuit?”

For a long moment, Julia couldn’t recall the reason. Then she thought of Nathaniel Greene and the unflattering words she’d overheard him saying in this very house. “I guess it all started at Bull Run,” she finally replied. “My uncle and I rode out to watch the battle with Congressman Rhodes. The preparations that the army had made for all the wounded soldiers proved horribly inadequate …and I wanted to help.”

“So you’re not only lovely, you’re kindhearted, as well. I like that.”

“Tell me about your work.”

Hiram spent the next few minutes explaining how his family’s business planned to convert to wartime production once he succeeded in winning the army contract he’d come to negotiate. But Julia found nothing arrogant or boastful in his nature. She thoroughly enjoyed his company and his conversation, and when dinner was finally announced, she was pleased to learn that they’d been placed alongside each other at the dining table. He escorted her to the room and helped with her chair.

To Julia, it seemed as if years had passed since she’d enjoyed such a feast, and she had to remind herself not to bolt down her food the way everyone did at the boardinghouse. She’d learned after her first few meals there that if she didn’t reach and grab and gulp the stingy portions the way the other girls did, she would leave the table hungry.

As they dined, Hiram proved adept at lively conversation. He was graciously polite and careful to include the other dinner guests seated near him, but he gave Julia the greatest portion of his attention. Most of the table talk centered on the war—the naval battle last month between the U.S.S. Monitor and the Confederate ironclad Virginia, near Norfolk, and the horrific battle that had taken place on April 6 at Shiloh, Tennessee. Then the conversation shifted to General McClellan and his current campaign to march up the Virginia peninsula and attack the Confederate capital of Richmond. Hiram was such an attentive companion, Julia found herself confiding in him.

“To be honest, I’m quite worried about what might happen when the army reaches Richmond. My mother was born and raised there, and I still have relatives in the city. My cousin Caroline is my age.”

He briefly pressed her hand, his brow furrowed with concern.“How inconsiderate of me to gloat over Richmond’s imminent capture. How easily one forgets that our enemies in this cursed war are our own countrymen. Tell me, do you think your family will be able to evacuate safely?”

“I don’t know. There’s no longer any mail service to the Confederate states. Another cousin of mine is in Richmond, as well. But Robert is a Union lieutenant being held captive in Libby Prison.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We’re praying for McClellan’s success so that Robert will be released soon. But also that the battle will spare the innocent civilians.”

“It’s no wonder you have such a keen interest in this war. Now you must tell me about your work as a nurse.”

Julia tried to make nursing sound glamorous as she described it to Hiram, but she was aware of her own disillusionment and the fact that Dr. McGrath didn’t want her there. In truth, she was enjoying this evening so much that she didn’t care if she ever went back to the hospital again.

“Nursing helps me feel as though I’m doing something useful for my country and for all our brave soldiers,” she finished. “Although I can’t honestly say that I’ve enjoyed working with our hospital’s surgeon. He drinks overmuch, and he makes everyone’s life quite miserable.”

“You say this physician is from Connecticut?”

“Yes. The reason I asked you about him earlier is because there are all sorts of rumors flying around the hospital about how he’s running away from a sordid past. One version is that he got drunk and caused the death of a wealthy patient. Some say he even spent time in prison for it.”

“Wait a minute …what was his name again?”

“McGrath. Dr. James McGrath.”

“I’m not sure if he’s your man, but there was a big scandal in all the New Haven newspapers about two years ago—the year I graduated from Yale, in fact. It seems to me that it involved a drunken doctor and his very wealthy patient. I wonder if that might be the same incident.”

Julia stopped eating. She thought she might burst with curiosity. “What happened?”

“Well, a wealthy financier was shot to death, I believe. His doctor had been drinking with him that evening and was found at the scene with the dead man, holding the gun. They had been overheard arguing. The authorities arrested the doctor for murder.”

“So he did spend time in prison. One of the nurses heard that he had.”

“A friend of mine was reading law at Yale at the time, and he was very interested in attending the trial. Judging from all the news reports, it promised to be sensational. But I graduated and returned to Bridgeport before the case came to trial. I’m sorry to say, I’ve no idea how it turned out.”

Julia had no trouble imagining the ill-tempered James McGrath committing murder. But since he was here inWashington, she wondered how he’d gotten away with it. “If it is the same doctor,” she said, “it’s no wonder he left town and hasn’t gone back. It’s a pity that we’re stuck with him.”

“Yes, I don’t suppose he could ever practice medicine in the same city after a scandal such as that. Even if he was never convicted, his reputation would be tarnished. People would always point fingers and wonder, ‘Was he really guilty, after all?’ And they might be afraid to consult him because the suspicion would always be there. Yes, it makes sense that he would leave town.”

“You don’t recall his name?”

“No, I’m sorry. It was at least two years ago. I can ask my lawyer friend if you’d like. He might recall the name.”

“Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

After dinner, the men retired to the congressman’s study for their brandy and cigars. Julia joined the women in the parlor for coffee. When the entire dinner party assembled in the drawing room again, Mrs. Rhodes asked Julia to play a piece on the piano for everyone. She could hardly refuse after enjoying the Rhodes’ hospitality, even though Julia hadn’t been near a piano in months. Years of lessons and hours of practice came back to her quickly though, and she played a simple piece from memory.

Hiram was at her side the moment she finished. “You are very talented, Julia. That was lovely.”

“Thank you, but it was really nothing much.”

When another guest played a waltz, Hiram asked Julia to dance with him. “I am completely enamored with you,” he said as he held her in his arms. “To be quite honest, after everything I’d heard about you beforehand, I’d formed an entirely different opinion of you. But I’m pleased to discover that you’re not at all what I had expected.”

The knowledge that she’d been a topic of discussion irritated Julia. But Hiram was such a jovial, charming companion she shrugged her annoyance aside. “What did you expect me to be like?” she asked.

He laughed. “Please don’t be angry, but I thought you must be a radical suffragette or a social reformer …or else a homely old spinster who couldn’t find a man and was trying to prove she didn’t need one.”

“In that case, you were very brave to agree to have dinner with me.”

“I’m so glad I did. You are a beautiful, fascinating woman, Julia. May I ask …are you doing this—working as a nurse—to shock your family? Or perhaps to escape a bad situation at home? A love interest gone awry?”

Again she thought of Nathaniel. “Not at all,” she said. “I’m here to serve my country, just like thousands of other Americans.”

“But surely such menial work should be left to a different class of women, don’t you think? You should be presiding over a home such as this one, serving your country through respectable charity work. That’s the life you were raised for in Philadelphia, wasn’t it?”

“Yes …but…”

“Then why aren’t you there?”

Hiram was holding her closely as they waltzed, his warm, smiling eyes gazing into hers. Julia felt so confused she couldn’t reply. Then the music ended, and he released her. Congressman Rhodes bustled over to speak with them.

“It’s so nice to see you two young people getting on so well. Say, Hiram, would you be willing to see Julia home? And would that be all right with you, my dear?”

They agreed. Julia felt drawn to Hiram, in spite of her growing uncertainty and confusion. They ate dessert and talked some more, and when the dinner party ended, he escorted her outside to his brougham. It had begun to rain, and the sound of it drumming on the carriage roof and splashing beneath the wheels made Julia feel snug and protected as she nestled beside him. He took her hand.

“I would like to court you, Julia, if you would allow me to. I must admit that I’m absolutely smitten by you. Might you be willing to give up your hospital work and your disagreeable doctor and see me again?”

“Why does seeing you depend on my quitting?”

“Well, it would be very awkward otherwise, don’t you see? I have my family’s good name and social standing to consider. In spite of your own impeccable background, I cannot undertake a serious relationship with a woman who’s engaged in such menial, common work.”

Julia slipped her hand from between his, keenly aware of her chapped skin and torn cuticles.

“And then there’s the very serious matter of your reputation,” Hiram continued. “Surely you realize that it’s unseemly for a beautiful, young, unmarried woman like yourself to be exposed to the company of the coarsest sort of men, day after day.”

“I would hope that a serious suitor would trust me and would defend my reputation. That he’d know that my moral principles are virtuous and my motives are charitable.”

She thought of Nathaniel for a third time and of his admiration for the Nightingales. Were there no other men who felt the same way he did? Was she foolish to pursue nursing in order to impress Nathaniel, while allowing a man like Hiram Stone to slip away from her?

“Dear Julia. I do admire your tender heart and your desire to help others. That’s part of the attraction I feel for you. So is your dogged persistence against all that society prescribes. But put yourself in your suitor’s place for a moment. No gentleman would want his beloved to do such menial work, especially around so many unsavory men. It’s fortunate that your father is so understanding.”

“You wouldn’t be?”

Even in the dark she saw his disarming smile. “If I were ever so fortunate to win a wife as beautiful and as charming as you, I would never let her do another day’s work for the rest of her life. I would pamper her, spoil her, and dress her in finery and jewels. And I would never let her leave my side for a single moment, especially to spend it alone in the company of other men.”

Julia knew that he meant to woo her with his words, but he made her feel like a porcelain doll that he wanted to place behind glass doors for safekeeping, taking her down only to show her off. Most girls Julia’s age would be thrilled by such a loving declaration from an attractive man. What was wrong with her? Why did Hiram’s words make her feel trapped instead?

It was still raining when they reached the boardinghouse. Hiram produced an umbrella and gallantly escorted her inside. “You haven’t answered my question, Julia. Would you consider courting me? Won’t you give me a chance to woo you away from all this?” He gestured to the dreary foyer. It seemed cold and desolate in the dim lamplight, especially after the sparkle and gaiety of the congressman’s home.

But before Julia could reply, her landlady hurried out to the foyer from the sitting room, waving a piece of paper. “This message arrived for you several hours ago, Miss Hoffman. They said it was urgent and that I should give it to you right away.”

Julia quickly unfolded the note and saw that it was from Mrs. Nichols at the hospital. “One of my patients is dying,” she told Hiram. “He’s calling for me and can’t seem to be comforted. The matron has asked me to come.”

He frowned. “Now? So late at night? How does she expect you to get there?”

“I’m quite capable of getting around Washington City,” Julia said. “I’ve been doing it on my own for three months.”

“I cannot allow it. Congressman Rhodes would be furious with me. My driver and I will take you.”

Neither of them spoke as they drove through the muddy, rainsoaked streets to the hospital. Julia’s thoughts were on Ellis Miller, tragically dying at age nineteen. What should she say to him? How could she possibly comfort him in the face of such a meaningless death? She’d never sat at anyone’s bedside as they lay dying, and the prospect frightened her.

And what about her conflicting feelings for Hiram Stone? He was everything most women wanted in a suitor, with none of the arrogance she’d so hated in Arthur Hoyt. Yet the thought of being Hiram’s possession, of letting him make all the decisions in her life— including whether or not she could work as a nurse—frightened her as badly as what she was about to face at the hospital. She was aware that she hadn’t answered his question. Would she give up nursing and allow him to court her?

He opened the umbrella again when they reached the hospital and accompanied her to the door. “Thank you. I—” she began.

“May I come inside? I’d like to watch you work, if I may.”

“Have you had the measles? There’s been an outbreak, and you really shouldn’t come any farther unless you’ve had them.”

“I have, in fact.” He flashed his disarming smile again. “I recall that I rather enjoyed being peppered with spots like a Dalmatian.”

She led him upstairs and into the wardroom and then stopped short. Dr. McGrath sat on Ellis Miller’s bed, with one end of his stethoscope pressed to his ear, the other to Ellis’ chest. The doctor’s clothes were so wrinkled he might have slept in them, his auburn hair was uncombed, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Julia could hear Ellis’ tortured breathing from across the room. The doctor rested his hand on the boy’s forehead, but it seemed more a gesture of tenderness than a medical one. Then he stood.

When Dr. McGrath turned around and saw Julia, he froze. The expression on his face was one she had never seen on him before— vulnerable and utterly defenseless. “Look at you,” he said softly.

Julia realized that she still wore her silk evening gown. “I-I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t have time to change. I got a message saying that Private Miller was asking for me, and I came right away. This is Hiram Stone,” she said, gesturing behind her. “He and I were guests of Congressman Rhodes this evening, and Mr. Stone was kind enough to drive me here.”

Dr. McGrath crossed the room while Julia spoke. He stopped when he reached the doorway where she stood. “Miller is dying,” he said in an angry whisper. “Don’t give him false hopes.” He pushed past them and descended the creaking stairs.

Hiram waited near the door as Julia went to the boy’s bedside. She gazed at his thin, pale face, battling her tears, then sat on his bed as the doctor had. “Private Miller? Ellis, can you hear me?” she asked softly.

His eyes fluttered open, and she saw him trying to focus them.“Are you …an angel?” he whispered.

“No, Ellis, it’s me …Nurse Hoffman …Julia. I heard that you were asking for me—so I came.” She took his hand in hers. His skin was oven-hot.

“Will you be my girl now?” He clung to her hand as if she had the power to hold him back from the gates of death.

“I …I would love to be your girl.” She tenderly brushed his hair off his forehead, just as the doctor had done.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. “I wanted to die bravely …but…”

“You are brave,” she said. “I’ve watched you struggle these last few days when it was so hard for you to breathe. And you never complained, Ellis. You never lost faith. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

“Will you write to my ma? She would want a lock of my hair. Will you…?”

“Of course.” Julia instinctively reached out to stroke his hair again, knowing even as she promised that someone else would have to do it. She could never find the courage to cut off a lock of Ellis Miller’s silky hair after he was dead.

For the next few hours, Julia stayed by his bedside, murmuring words of comfort as he drifted in and out of consciousness. She begged God to give her the right words, desperately summoning everything she could recall from years of church attendance, reciting the Twenty-third Psalm to him and the Lord’s Prayer.

“Do you know Jesus Christ?” she asked when he awoke briefly.

“Yes…”

“Then trust Him, Ellis. Hold on to His hand, just like you’re holding mine. Jesus said, ‘In my Father’s house are many mansions …I go to prepare a place for you …that where I am, there ye may be also.”’

His labored breathing grew more erratic as his life slipped away. He no longer had enough strength to cough. Julia ached for him, prayed for him, promised him that he would wake up in paradise with Jesus, where there would be no more pain or tears.

Hours passed. Ellis Miller closed his eyes a final time. He exhaled a sigh—and he was gone.

Julia held her own breath as a holy silence filled the room, pouring into the space that had been filled with his painful breathing only seconds ago. She bowed her head, overwhelmed—not only by the perfect peace that had settled over Ellis in his final moments, but also by the peace that engulfed her. For the first time in her life, Julia felt God’s loving presence surrounding her. He was pleased with her.

“…Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren,” He seemed to say, “ye have done it unto me…”

Julia finally released Ellis’ limp hand. She gently pulled the sheet over his face and then fled the room.

Hiram stood waiting in the darkened hallway, a shadowy figure who opened his arms to her, offering comfort. She went to him and buried her face on his chest, weeping. She felt his arms encircling her. He held her tenderly, never saying a word, his hands warm against her back.

When her grief was exhausted, Julia slowly became aware that Hiram’s expensive shirt felt oddly coarse beneath her cheek. His arms felt different, too. His height and his scent were not as she remembered them when they’d danced earlier. She drew back and looked up. Dr. McGrath was holding her.

His arms fell to his sides as he released her. Then he moved past her without a word and went into the wardroom.

Julia found Hiram Stone outside on the front step, smoking a cigarette. The rain had finally stopped. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You needn’t have waited.”

He tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his shoe. “I’ll take you home.”

Tears continued to roll down Julia’s face as they drove, and she wiped them away with her fingers. Hiram pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.

“It’s wrong to put yourself through such a harrowing ordeal, Julia. You’re much too tenderhearted for this sort of work. I wish I could spare you …protect you. Please, promise me you’ll go home to Philadelphia with Congressman Rhodes. I’ll travel by steamer from Bridgeport to visit you.”

It sounded so tempting—to leave all this suffering behind, to go home and resume the life she’d always known. She’d promised her father she would take courting seriously when she returned, and Hiram Stone was a very tempting suitor.

But the afterglow of God’s peace and presence still warmed her, like the coals of a fading fire, and she longed to rekindle those flames, to feel God’s benediction once again, more than she longed for home.

“I can’t go home, Hiram.”

“But what you went through tonight—you should be sheltered from such ugliness.”

“It wasn’t ugly at all.” Yes, it had been difficult and heartrending, yet God’s presence had transformed the moment of death into something holy. He had been with her and with Ellis Miller.

For most of her life, Julia had sought to please people—her parents, her social peers, handsome suitors like Nathaniel Greene and Hiram Stone. But for the first time she understood that nothing was as important as pleasing God, feeling His blessing on her life.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said. “I don’t want to be sheltered, and I don’t want to quit nursing. Don’t you see, Hiram? Tonight, for the first time in my life, I did something that truly mattered.”

When Julia arrived at the hospital the following afternoon, Ellis Miller’s bed was empty. His knapsack and other meager belongings lay piled on the bare mattress. Mrs. Nichols came to Julia and put her arm around her shoulders.

“That was a lovely thing you did, coming back to stay with him that way until he passed on. Would you be able to write a little note to his mother so we could send it with his things?”

“Of course. Only …I promised Ellis that I would send her a lock of his hair.”

“I took care of it,” she said, pulling an envelope from her pocket. She looked up at Julia’s tears and said, “You’ll never get used to watching one of your boys die, my dear …but it does get easier in time.”

They sat down on the bed together and had just begun sorting through Ellis’ things when Mrs. Fowle came to the door and motioned them out into the hallway. “I have wonderful news, ladies,” she whispered. “We’re getting a new doctor.”

“It’s about time,” Mrs. Nichols said with a sigh. “Are they tossing that old drunkard back in jail?”

“No, someone from the Surgeon General’s office came this morning and told Dr. McGrath he was needed on the Peninsula as a field surgeon. He’s downstairs packing right now.”

“Good riddance to him.”

“The new doctor is supposed to be arriving later today.”

Julia was barely listening. Memories of the Battle of Bull Run flashed through her mind, and with them came an overpowering conviction that she was also needed at the field hospital, not here tending measles. It was no longer a matter of proving herself to Nathaniel Green or escaping the boredom of her high-society life. It was what God commanded in His Word: “…Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these…”

“I need to talk to Dr. McGrath before he leaves,” she said, excusing herself. She hurried downstairs to his office and found him packing all his medical instruments into a beautiful wooden case that was open on his desk, placing each item—knives, forceps, scissors, probes, scalpels—into its specially made compartment.

“Dr. McGrath, may I go to the field hospital with you?” she asked.

“What a perfectly ridiculous question,” he said without looking up. He packed a knife that he had been using for a letter opener, then picked up the odd trumpetlike instrument that Julia had learned was a stethoscope. “The answer is no.”

“Why not?”

“The army has no use for a nurse who will faint when the blood starts to flow.”

“I’m prepared.”

“No, you are not prepared, my nai ve Mrs. Hoffman. Even I am not prepared for what’s about to happen. Treating measles is one thing. The battlefield is hell on earth. You’ve had your fun playing nurse. We’ll be sure to tell the brave Lieutenant Hoffman what a good little nurse his wife was. But now the game is going to get rough. You would not be able to cope.”

“How do you know that? What makes you so sure?” Julia had no sooner said the words than she remembered how she had fallen to pieces in the doctor’s arms last night. She was offering him the perfect opportunity to humiliate her. But to her enormous surprise and relief, the doctor never mentioned the incident.

“In your daily social rounds back home in Philadelphia,” he said, “did you have a lot of experience with blown-off limbs and spilled guts? Did you watch an amputation or two while you sipped your afternoon tea?” He opened a drawer in the wooden case while he spoke and lifted out a stainless steel saw, testing the jagged teeth with his thumb before fitting the instrument back into place.

Julia swallowed. “I witnessed the battle of Bull Run.”

“You did nursing work there?”

She didn’t answer.

“I thought not. Go home. You’ve had your fun. The real doctors and nurses will have work to do, and we won’t have time to pick you up off the ground every time you faint, or wipe the vomit off your face so you can get back to work.”

He fastened the latches and set the case on his chair, then began clearing his desk. As he stacked discharge papers and requisition forms into neat piles, Julia saw the top of his desk for the first time. Then he opened a leather satchel and packed the photograph of his wife and daughter without even glancing at it. He pulled a pile of letters tied with string from a desk drawer and tossed them in, then added another letter, written on identical stationery, which had arrived from New Haven in the morning mail. He hadn’t even opened it.

Julia wished she knew if he was the doctor Hiram Stone had described. If she had been certain, she would have said, “I know what happened in New Haven. I know why you ran away,” and he would have been forced to let her come with him. But Julia couldn’t take that chance. If he wasn’t the same doctor, she’d make a fool of herself.

“If you don’t think I’m ready for field work,” she finally said, “then let me help some other way.”

“Women do not belong anywhere near the battlefield, especially women of your social class. The army won’t allow it, and neither will I.” He stopped working to stare at the top of his desk for a long moment, then turned to Julia. “What I cannot comprehend is why you would even want to go.”

Julia didn’t know why herself, except that she longed for what she had experienced last night—the joy of being used by God, of doing something that truly mattered. Instead, she said the first lie she could think of.

“Robert …my h-husband …is in Richmond. When our troops liberate the city, I want to be there to help him and the other prisoners.”

Dr. McGrath came around from behind his desk. As he moved toward Julia she instinctively backed away until, without realizing it, she stood in the hallway outside his office.

“Nice try,” he told her. “The answer is still no.”

He closed the door in her face.