Wedded to War by Jocelyn Green Page B

because he loved her too much to let their relationship simply happen by default. It would have been cheating.
    When he wrote to her several months later, just to wish her a happy birthday, she replied that she was glad he had “abandoned” her, that her feelings for him had turned cold. He tried to forget her, to replace her with other women, but none of them captured his heart as she had.
    So he studied more than anyone else at Yale, graduated at the top of his class, and worked harder than any other doctor in town. Somehad suggested he was burying himself in it, but they didn’t understand. With Charlotte out of the picture, it was the only thing that made him feel alive.
    Caleb trusted that God had a perfect plan for his life, and assumed years ago that Charlotte Waverly was simply not part of it. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
    Logs crumbled and hissed in front of him now, and Caleb snapped out of his reverie. On the other side of camp, he could hear strains of men singing “Victory’s Band” to the tune of the Southern anthem, “Dixie’s Land.”
    We’re marching under the Flag of Union,

Keeping step in brave communion!

March away! March away! Away! Victory’s band!

Right down upon the ranks of rebels,

Tramp them underfoot like pebbles,

March away! March away! …
     
     
    Caleb sighed. He loved the Union, but singing about treading upon the enemy like they were pebbles smacked of a false confidence the size of New England. These soldiers were as of yet untested, unproven in battle. As a regimental surgeon, so was he, and he knew it.
    “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” he muttered into his tin cup, and swallowed the last of his now lukewarm coffee.

New York City
Monday, June 10, 1861
     
    M y husband is Matthew O’Flannery. He left with New York’s Sixty-Ninth Regiment five weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from him since,” Ruby told the officer behind the desk at the recruiting office on Broadway that had enlisted him.
    He looked her up and down. “You’re sure he enlisted? Could it be that he just—found an opportunity to strike out on his own?”
    “Aye, I’m telling you, he is fighting for your country.”
    “Not yours, though, eh?” He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, smirking.
    “’Tis more your country than it is mine, sir, as I assume you have been here longer and have an easier time of living here.”
    “And yet, this is still better than what you left behind in Ireland, isn’t it?”
    Her face burned, but she bit her tongue. She expected there couldbe an argument this morning, but this was not the fight she wanted. She hated confrontation as a general rule, but she was so hungry, so desperate for money, she knew she had to stand her ground.
    “Look it up, you’ll see his name in black and white. Matthew O’Flannery. The Sixty-Ninth. I need to know what happened to his paycheck.”
    “I don’t need to look it up,
lassie.
” He leaned forward. “Even if he’s with them, I wouldn’t expect any money any time soon. The army is regrettably behind in paying its soldiers, but will pay arrears in full as soon as it can.”
    Ruby didn’t know what arrears meant, but she did know about being behind in payments.
    “As for why you haven’t heard from him about it personally, I could only make a guess.” He sneered as he looked over her faded, threadbare dress again. She knew exactly how he saw her, for it was how she saw herself: poor, uneducated, dirty. Unworthy. Well, if she looked the part of a beggar, then beg she would.
    “Saints alive, can’t your office spare a few dollars? We’ll pay it back as soon as the government pays its soldiers.”
    “Have you considered working yourself, or do you insist upon waiting for money to just magically appear for you?”
    Ruby snorted. “Do I look like the sort of person who isn’t accustomed to hard work? I work, Officer Jennings, every hour of daylight and then some, and still I am