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.As she followed the snow-covered footpath a revelationspilled over her and in wondrous clarity she realized whatGarrick had been subtly trying to explain to her.She finallyrecognized the difference between the warrior and the war.She could answer the call of the wounded soldier and wish anend to the conflict without diminishing the honor and glory ofthe men who fought in it.For the first time since her arrival in Scutari, Josie felt atpeace with her own conscience.Garrick had given her themeans to survive here.He had shown her that she had theright to apply her logic to matters of importance beyondherself.She glanced around.Too bad only the fading twilightbore witness to her enlightenment.As she walked, the wind sprang to life with reneweddetermination, and the snow began to fall in earnest.Itobliterated her bright new world and transformed it into afuzzy blur.The snow became a fury, and the wuthering in thetrees reverberated in her ears and thrummed in her chest.Much to her alarm, the outline of the Barracks Hospitaldisappeared, and she lost all sense of direction.Layer by layer the snow hid treacherous stumps and rocks,and it quickly accumulated on her tree branch doubling itsweight.She stumbled and fell to her knees.The white powderbillowed up around her like a cloud of dust, and as it settledback to the ground, it coated her eyelashes and clung to hercheeks.Snow melted through her skirt and wool stockings,soaking her knees.Her teeth chattered with the cold, and she200Lady Gallantby Gini Rifkinsent a silent plea aloft asking their heavenly Father to watchover all the creatures trapped in this merciless storm.As the wind stopped to catch its breath, the building shesought wavered back into view.She scrambled to her feetand quickly forged a path through the newly fallen snow.Twilight turned to true darkness as she reached the rear wallof the Barrack Hospital, and the storm howled again inearnest.Knocking the snow from the branch, she stepped towardthe rarely used side passage that led to her domain.As sheforced open the obstinate door, it creaked with mind-gratingenthusiasm.Dismayed at her fanfare of an entrance, sheglanced around the dimly lit ward.No one stirred.Soft moansand gentle snores came from the patients, and Mose wasnowhere in sight.She had not been found out.Dragging the tree over the threshold, she closed the doorand tiptoed across the stone floor.The cedar branch trailedalong behind her with a comforting swish, and the soothingsound reminded her of summer lawn parties and ladies skirtsupon the grass.She slowed her steps as she passed Old Pauly's bed.Hiseven breathing assured her he slept undisturbed.A strongconstitution had sustained him through the initial ordeal ofsurgery.But what would happen when he had time toconsider his future, would he maintain the will to live? Withonly one leg, the going would be difficult for a man.Perhaps she could tell him about Phillip.It might help,because whether a loss was physical or emotional, the painwas just as real and the future just as frightening.And201Lady Gallantby Gini Rifkinalthough you might never get over it, if you were going tosurvive, eventually you had to get on with it.It was a hardlesson to learn, one upon which she was still working.Crossing the room, she studied the other patients.Thenumber of wounded was down, but the number of choleravictims was up.Disease, rather than Russian musket balls,had become their adversary.And a most hideous enemy itwas.It lurked in every corner waiting for the weak and theunsuspecting.She had expected the new sanitation methods,initiated by Miss Nightingale, would drive the demon back tothe corner of hell it had come from.But so far, that had notbeen the case, and they all lived in fear of this unseen foe.Placing the ax beside the wood stove, Josie balanced thetree branch up against the west wall and then hurried over tothe nearby alcove.She lit a small lamp, removed her cape,and positioned the wing-screen to hide her activities frominquisitive eyes.Retrieving her sewing basket from theshadows, she settled into the chair and organized thematerials that would become her decorations.Her lips softened into a smile.The mis-delivered quill tipsand prisms would finally be put to good use.Tonight shewould utilize them to bedeck the tree.And come the dawn,their twinkling splendor would be the first thing her boys sawon Christmas morn.She unraveled more red yarn from her best wool sweaterand her thoughts unraveled in her mind.Where was Garrick?Was he safe from harm? Focusing her tired eyes on the oldmantel clock, a stab of dejection accompanied her worry.Itwas nearly midnight, almost Christmas.202Lady Gallantby Gini RifkinAs she labored, the storm continued unabated, and snowladen wind lashed against the far window [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]