“If you don’t find what you’re looking for, you may feel free to look among the wreckage. But Mrs. Savarov should remain here if you do so. And the dead have all been taken to the funeral homes in town.”
“Again, thank you for your advice, Sheriff.” Eli nodded gravely and we started over to the tent that had formerly housed the wounded. Now it was the salvaged goods depot.
If I had truly been a gently bred lady, there were still some things that would have distressed me… maybe. There was blood on some of the items that had been retrieved, and of course blood had dripped on the ground from the injured. Now it had dried on the trampled grass. No way to get rid of that until the tent came down and there was rain.
I bravely pretended I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to come all over faint. I held a hand to my forehead, palm out, to mask the awful sight.
“Would you stop it,” Eli hissed. “I can see you’re trying not to laugh.”
“Yes, my manly protector,” I said. I didn’t dare look up.
I wasn’t laughing after ten minutes’ hard searching. No chest. I hadn’t believed it would be here. No one would murder Jake and then leave the booty to be carried to the lost-and-found. But we had to look.
Jake would have used his gun if he hadn’t believed the person approaching him was a friend. That idea popped into my head, crystal clear.
“He did the best any crew leader could do,” I said.
“Don’t you think I should go look over the wreckage?” Eli said. I could hear that encouraging note in his voice that said he really wanted to do that. And I could also tell he knew the fact that I couldn’t go with him would be real irritating to me.
“That might be a good thing to do,” I said. “Sweetheart.” I tacked that on since we were newlyweds. Eli squeezed my arm a little too hard.
“Then consider it done,” Eli said gallantly. “Solnyshko.”
And he led me to an intact wooden crate in the shade in the middle of the tent, so I could sit while he hared off and saw what there was to see. I puredee hated that.
A Negro trustee—at least that was what I thought his black-and-white-striped uniform signified—came over to me, eyes lowered, and asked if I would care for a glass of water. The sheriff thought I might be feeling a little overcome. I thanked him nicely, and accepted.
When he came back, eyes still lowered, I said, “You know a family around here, Reva and Hosea Clelland?”
I’d kept my voice low, but he still flinched. “Yes’m.”
“I don’t want to make trouble for them, but I knew their daughter Galilee. If they can come to the Pleasant Stay Hotel, or let me know where to meet ’em, I’d like to talk to them.”
“Yes’m,” he said, and scuttled away as fast as he could. I’d kept our exchange too quiet and quick for anyone to take notice, on purpose. If I behaved wrong, this man would pay. Not only had Galilee told me stories, but I could tell from the way the Negro people acted that they’d rather do anything than draw attention to any conversation they had with white people, especially white women.
Bored and restless, I began to pick through the personal bags and luggage we hadn’t yet checked. I found one I was sure was Maddy’s. Her initials were scratched on the outside. There were so many that were similar I had no way of knowing which were Jake’s and Rogelio’s, but I found Charlie’s. I could send its contents back to his family.
After that, all I could do was drink water, sit on the damn crate, think about how lucky I was to be in the shade, and wonder what “Solnyshko” meant.
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time Eli came to fetch me, I was almost stunned with boredom. It wasn’t really that hot, but the air was a lot wetter than I was used to. I didn’t know how anyone could live here. Or why they’d want to. It was supposed to be fall.
“Ready to go back to the car?” Eli said. He looked grim and sweaty.
“I have been ready since you left me here,” I said.
“Look sweet,” Eli reminded me.
“I don’t have any idea how to do that,” I snarled.
He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.
It tickled, and I smiled.
“There now, not so hard,” Eli said, clearly pleased with himself.
“Let’s go to the hospital now,” I said. “Oh, here are two bags from my crew. Since you’re such a big, strong man, you can carry them.”
“Of course,” Eli said smoothly. “Anything for you, my frail flower.”
I snorted.
The hospital was only two blocks away from the hotel, so Eli parked the car behind the Pleasant Stay and we walked. Turned out that had been a good idea. We couldn’t have found a parking spot anywhere closer to the hospital. I was so tired I was staggering, though. Despite my nap in the green forest, I was exhausted. And I wasn’t looking forward to going inside the hospital.
I’d only been in one once. In Segundo Mexia, most people believed you went to the hospital to die, and the only hospital was quite a distance anyway. We did have a real doctor, who lived a few miles outside of Segundo Mexia. He was a drinker. You had to get there in the morning.
Ballard Memorial Hospital was a long one-story building shaped like a T. Its outside was red brick. It was built up off the ground like most structures here. After we went up the steps and through the big double doors at the front, we were blocked by a large desk. You could walk around it if you went right, but clearly that would be a terrible thing to do.
Behind the desk sat a nurse in a starched uniform with a ledger in front of her. Like she’s waiting to admit people to heaven, I thought. She had a name tag that read MISS MAYHEW.
“How can I hep yawl?” Miss Mayhew said. Her accent was so thick it was like molasses.
Eli and I looked at each other, at a loss.
Miss Mayhew gave us a sharp look. Then she repeated, “How can I hep yawl?” in a louder voice, in case we were hard of hearing.
It was noisy; the floor was wood, and heels made big sounds on it. Since the hospital was full of people, there were lots of voices crossing each other. Somewhere in the building behind a closed door, a man was screaming.
Miss Mayhew wasn’t listening to the screaming at all. It might as well not have been happening.
My brain burped up a translation. Miss Mayhew wanted to know how she could help us.
“We’re here to see Maddy Smith,” I said. I tacked on a “please, ma’am” after Miss Mayhew’s gaze got even sharper.
Miss Mayhew deigned to look down at her ledger. “Maddy Smith,” she said. “One of the injured from the train?”
“Yes’m.” I’d learned my lesson.
Miss Mayhew pointed to a set of doors behind her, in the left wall. “She’s in the open ward with all the other women just brought in. The ward’s completely full. First time I can remember. Please limit your visit to ten minutes. We have an awful lot of people coming in and out today. Sign in here, please.”
She reversed the ledger and Eli bent to sign it for us. I’m not sure what I would have written.
“Thank you, Nurse Mayhew,” said Eli, with his best smile.
But Miss Mayhew was immune. Blank stare. I loved it.