After Mr. Ward read the telegraph from his cousin, Cordia’s father tried to get her to go home, but she insisted on staying. She watched as Mr. Ward locked up the courthouse at 8:15. She watched as the crowd dispersed. She even watched as Julia rode away around 9:00. Finally, her father talked enough reason into her to get her to walk back home. She knew she wouldn’t sleep that night and that she would probably be one of the first people at the courthouse the next morning. If it had been up to her, she would have spent the night sleeping underneath that oak tree.
As soon as there was enough light to see the brick sidewalk, Cordia was out the door, flying to the town square. As she approached the courthouse, she saw just a few other people standing outside. There was nothing new posted on the door. Her shoulders slumped as she went back to the same spot where she had spent the better portion of the day before, underneath the oak tree. She hadn’t figured on th
A few minutes after Cordia’s dad left the town square, Mr. Ward came out of the courthouse, though they could all see he had no papers in his hands. “All right,” he announced, “this is what I have done. I have telegraphed my cousin and asked him to go down to these hospitals he was speaking of yesterday and see if he can compile a list of the Barton County boys who are dead and wounded.” There were now close to one-hundred people standing around, and most of them were very happy to hear this news. “Now, I can’t promise he’ll get the message or be able to do it today, but I reckon that’s about all I can do at this time.”“There’s no other news?” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.“No, I’m afraid there ain’t been no news, nothing I didn’t already tell you about.” Mr. Ward confirmed. Then, he promptly turned around and went back into the courthouse.
The sky was like a painting, portraying the end of the world. Dark red at the horizon, lightening to pink and orange, before it finally spread into a thick yellow that covered the rest of the sky. Smoke billowed through the air, sometimes pervasive enough that simply breathing would make a person gag and choke. It seemed that not a single blade of grass could still be standing. The ground was thick with mud, small rivers flowing through it, the same color as that horizon. The stench of death and dying hung in curtains, wafting around on the breeze, churning stomachs, causing nostrils to flare. Standing here, one no longer needed to imagine what hell must be like.Cordia was picking her way through an endless sea of dead men’s bodies, piled to her knees and higher. She looked into the eyes of every single one of them. Sometimes, she had to turn them over to get a good look at their faces. Occasionally, parts of their corpses would stain her hands with blood, body tissue,
Cordia’s parents and Frieda were dumbfounded hearing her declare she was intending to drive into a war zone.“Cordia,” her mother was saying, “you can’t possibly be serious.” To look at her, however, they could tell that Cordia was definitely steadfast. She had already gotten two traveling gowns out of the closet and a bag for her essentials.“Cordia, calm down,” her father said, lightly grabbing her arm, in her mind causing a loss of precious time. “You can’t just go galloping off to Springfield in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe.”“I don’t care,” she insisted, shaking her arm free. “I’ll be fine. I know how to shoot a gun. I’ll take one with me. I am not going to sit here for one more minute waiting for someone to tell me that the man I love—or his cousin—is dead!” She turned around and flung open a drawer and began t
Cordia had considered stopping by the Adams Farm to see if Julia wanted to go with them. But she remembered how pale and fragile her friend had looked yesterday, and she didn’t think this trip would be good for her tuberculosis. And, though Cordia had never been on a battlefield before, if it was anything like the one she had walked in her dream, she knew the air would quickly get to delicate Julia. So, here she was, driving the horses before her with a purpose, Frieda beside her, rambling on about stubbornness and the likelihood of them both getting killed. Cordia ignored her, deep in her own thoughts.Frieda mentioned that she was glad they had taken the whole cart. She said she was only doing this one time, so if there was something (and by that, Cordia knew all too well that she meant someone) to haul back, she was doing it now. She also mentioned she was glad that this way they would have to stick to the roads, which Cordia would be much more likely to do
Cordia drove on toward Springfield. Part of her was very glad that she had run into Cal Markson. Now they had a better idea of exactly where they needed to go. But, then, the only news he had given her was bad news. So, on she drove, knowing the quicker she got there, the quicker the agony of the unknown would be over.By nine o’clock, it was pitch black. The horses were exhausted, and Frieda was insisting that they stop for the evening. The house Cordia’s father had recommended was left behind in the miles they had crossed that day. They had stopped to rest the horses only twice, and Cordia had spent the whole time pacing, urging Frieda to let them continue. Now, she, too, was feeling weary from their long journey. And she did not like the idea of driving into war-torn country in the darkness. She finally consented to pulling over into a hollow in the trees for the night and trying to get some sleep in the wagon. They decided it would be safer if they slept in sh
No amount of preparation could possibly have equipped Cordia Pike for what she saw as she neared the hospital outside of Wilson’s Creek. Though she had been warned by telegraph, and by Cal Markson, that this was not a pleasant place, until her eyes actually took in the sights, until her nose actually whiffed the stench, she could not have comprehended the horrors that were war and the catastrophic wake it left behind.She had been surprised at the few number of Confederate troops there were patrolling the area. She assumed that was because most of them had fallen back to Springfield, which was still about ten miles ahead of them. One of the young men had come close enough to the wagon that she had asked him for directions to the hospital. He had simply pointed in a general direction. She thought it was possible that some of the wounded had been moved to other locations on the battlefield, so as she pulled up to an area lined with a few tents and a few scattered building
Roberts, the orderly at the makeshift hospital, motioned for the two women to follow him, which they did, after a brief thank you to the first useless orderly. Roberts didn’t say anything as they walked along. He looked exhausted, and Cordia wondered how long he had been here, with no rest, taking care of the wounded. She was not brave enough to ask. He seemed to be leading them in the same direction that the two orderlies carrying the litter had been going. They passed a farmhouse, which Cordia took to be the “main house” Roberts had spoken of, and then a couple of small buildings. They walked through uncountable soldiers spread out all over the ground, propped against trees, talking in little groups of four or five. All of them seemed to grow quiet as the ladies passed by, their eyes following them in wonderment. Finally, they reached a smaller building, and Roberts swung open the door. Though nothing about this hospital smelled particularly appealing, the air co
It really wasn’t that far for Cordia to run from the shed where she’d seen Jaris across the field to the church, but she was running as fast as she could, tears still streaming down her face, pulling the bottom of her gown up she wouldn’t trip. By the time she reached the little white building, she was gasping for air. Under normal conditions it would have been difficult, but it was even more challenging for her to regain her breath when all that she sucked in stunk of death. Her side was throbbing, she now realized. She bent over, trying to get enough air so that she could ask someone for help. Finally, she caught her breath enough to get some words out.A young woman was approaching the church from the general direction that Cordia had come from, though at a much more practical pace. “Excuse me,” Cordia said, still panting. “I’m looking for someone.”The young girl’s eyes widened. She looked at Cordia as if she th
Carey’s horse ran straight past him, seeing the other riders off in the distance, and Carey knew he was trapped. Will was certainly behind him now. He dropped the derringer to the ground, hoping compliance would be beneficial. His only option was to find a way to get close enough to Cordia to take that gun away and use her body as a shield. “Cordia,” he said as sweetly as he could muster, “you’re not going to shoot me,” he smiled at her, nonchalantly. “Go ahead and step out of the way, darlin’ so I can join my men.”“You and your men shot my daddy,” she replied, her voice filled with hate.Carey swallowed hard. It had never been his intention to physically harm her father. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. “Your father and I have always been such good friends. I’m sure he would understand why you would let me go.”It was a stretch, and they both knew it
Carey’s plan was working. The cavalry was not prepared for an assault on the munitions, and when they blew, it shook the entire square. Glass shards flew through the air, people went flying, horses darted off, some with riders still holding on. The explosion had caught the wooden steeple and roof of the courthouse on fire, and the structure was going up in flames. Within a few moments, the entire top of the building was burning.The Union troops realized that their focal point was rapidly disappearing. While this was certainly devastating to their purpose, it did suddenly create a sense of mobility to the commanders. No longer tied to a structure to protect, they began to pour out in formation, engaging the enemy where they were, rather than waiting for Quantrill and his men to come to them.Quantrill recognized this problem almost instantly. He had hoped to acquire some of the weapons and munitions that had been stored there, but at least they would no longer be
The group of men Carey was leading were pyromaniacs, apparently. His understanding was that Quantrill wanted them to converge on the square, take the outpost, and then light the town on fire as they made their escape. These men spent a great deal of time throwing torches through broken windows, and it seemed that they would never make it to the heart of the battle unfolding on the square a few blocks away.At last, Carey gave the order to ride on, and then did so, not caring who followed. He could see that a large contingency of the men had accompanied him, while only a few stayed behind to torch the houses along Tenth Street. He covered the few blocks to the square quickly, hoping to get in on the fight. It had been almost two years since he had tasted battle, and he was eager to feel the rush of assault again. However, once he got to the square, he realized Quantrill and Lewis had not organized their attack as well as he had hoped. The 8thCavalry appeared to be ready
Carey was furious. “This is my aunt and uncle’s farm!” he was yelling, bringing his horse between the torch men and the shed they had just lit on fire. “You have direct orders from Quantrill not to touch any of our property or our relations’!”“Sorry! We didn’t know!” an older cross-eyed soldier spat back before riding off. Though it was too late for this particular shed, Carey was hopeful that he could save the rest of the farm from a similar fate. He was leading a small band of marauders into town. Quantrill had split his men into smaller groups so that they could enter the city limits a bit more stealthily. They would meet back up at the courthouse directly. Carey had given very specific directions to everyone as to which houses were to be spared, this being one of them, but apparently these outlaws had not listened as closely as he would have liked, and he began to fear for the safety of his father who was likely sleep
A few hours into Will’s vigil, he realized that Julia’s breathing had changed. The door to her bedroom was ajar, and he could hear his aunt bustling around, keeping herself busy. “Aunt Margaret,” he said as loudly as he could muster. “I think you should probably come in here.”Margaret had been present at quite a few deaths over the years. Thankfully, most of them had been the passing of elderly members of her family, such as her grandparents, though she had watched her mother breath her last at the age of fifty-two. She had always regretted not being there for her brother and his wife, Will’s parents, but they had lived such reclusive lives. She didn’t even know they were sick until after they had passed. Entering the room, she could tell immediately that Julia’s time had come. Her breathing was very shallow and uneven. Several seconds passed between breaths. Catching Will’s eye, Margaret nodded solemnly.He
Cordia’s parents were elated to see her, though hearing of the circumstances that brought her diminished their joy significantly. They invited Zachariah in, but he declined, thinking his mother may need him back at the house. He knew that, once Julia had passed, his mother would be extremely emotional, and he wanted to be there to comfort her.Once Frieda had greeted her, she disappeared into the kitchen, pouring drinks and preparing something for Cordia to eat. Though she protested that she was not hungry, Frieda insisted that she would need her strength. Cordia joined her parents in the parlor, feeling awkwardly like a guest in what was, until very recently, her own home for so long. She sat on the duvet across from her parents, who sat in their usual chairs. The fire was blazing in the fireplace, and Cordia suddenly became very aware of how cold she had been, despite her heavy winter coat.“Well, Cordia, dear,” her mother began. “How have you
The ride from the Tucker house to the Adams Farm was nearly silent and forced. The horses were spurred on in a full gallop for as long as they could bear it. Arthur did not have to say anything more for Will to know that, if Arthur was riding out to retrieve him, Julia must have grown much worse.When they arrived, Zachariah came out and took their horses. Arthur helped Cordia dismount but by the time she was off of her horse, Will was already inside the farmhouse, flying toward the back room. Cordia caught up with him at the door of Julia’s room, where he paused to compose himself before entering. She put her hand gently on his back, giving him the assurance he needed to enter the room and survey his sister’s waning condition.As they entered the room, they could see Dr. Walters sitting on a chair next to her bed, Margaret at the foot of the bed but within reach of her niece. Julia’s breathing was labored, but she was breathing. Her cheeks were flush
Carey was encamped with Quantrill and his band of raiders, which numbered nearly two hundred, in a wooded area north of Lamar, for several days before they finally rode out to meet up with a few stragglers who had been out visiting family. Quantrill had been corresponding with Col. Warren Lewis of the Missouri State Guard, and they both had their eye on the outpost located in Lamar at the courthouse. On November 4, Quantrill gathered up his forces and began the ride north. Carey and the few men who had come along with him were instrumental in giving information about roads and the location of troops, etc. Carey also suggested that they try to take out the prominent businessmen in town and their families, hoping to use the famous rebel as a means to get revenge on those he believed had done him wrong. Quantrill agreed. Any permanent scars they could leave on the face of the town would be well worth it. Carey sketched a rough map of the town, placing an “X” on the homes of
The trip into Nevada took about thirty minutes each way. Besides sending the telegraphs, they had also gotten some much-needed supplies. Will was anxious to hear how Julia was doing, and he didn’t want to stay cut-off from his family for too long, but he also wanted to make sure that Cordia’s father had the opportunity to receive the telegraph and calm down the authorities some before they headed back to Lamar. That was assuming that anyone was even looking for them. They weren’t even sure that Carey had reported anything to the sheriff at all. They decided to wait about a week before venturing back to the Adams Farm to ascertain the situation.They had done their best to avoid as many people as possible, particularly other riders. The fewer people who knew the old Tucker homestead was occupied again, the better, especially since the town was alive with whispers and rumors of guerrillas and marauders. Despite the fact that the house she was staying in had be