Chapter 5 #2
The woman had a thick German accent. From what Annamae could understand, the family had been fishing for their supper since the markets were closed from the flooding.
Annamae explained about the sewers leeching into the streets and how important it was to make sure the fish was cleaned and cooked entirely through before consuming.
She figured there would be many cases of bacteria and infection at the hospital over the next few days.
Twenty minutes later, the man stopped in front of the hospital. Annamae pulled coins from her purse and held them out to him. He reached out to accept, but his wife slapped his outstretched hand and glowered. The corners of his lips turned down. “Jah. My pleasure to be good citizen.”
Annamae smiled and returned the coins to her purse. “Thank you, both.”
She waved goodbye to the little girl, stood, and rocked the boat. She sat back down and gripped the sides.
A man wearing a blue and gray postal uniform with a bulging sack over his shoulder chuckled as he waded by.
He offered to assist her, and, with his help, she stood again.
Annamae frowned at the murky water. The hospital steps were too far away, and her shoes would be soaked through by the time she reached them.
Maybe she could find dry stockings and an extra pair of shoes somewhere inside.
She yelped in surprise when the postal worker swept his arms beneath her and carried her to the steps. Annamae secured her hold around his neck. She’d never been carried by a man before. She’d helped carry plenty of men, however. Invalids. Her face heated as he lowered her to the first dry step.
“Special delivery.” The postal worker touched the brim of his cap and laughed as he continued wading along Pennsylvania Avenue.
With a chuckle, Annamae lifted her skirt, which was damp at the hem, and hurried inside the hospital.
She rushed down the hall and past the other nurses coming and going. When Doctor Martin stepped from a patient’s bedside, she caught him before he moved to the next.
“I apologize for my tardiness, Doctor.” She had difficulty catching her breath. “The streets are flooded, and I had trouble getting here without the streetcar.”
Doctor Martin smiled. Then he touched her elbow and led her to a vacant corner in the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it at all. I’m glad you’re safe.”
The handsome widower was always tender with her.
They’d worked together for the past couple of years, and a month ago he’d expressed interest in wanting to become more than her superior.
The prospect had both thrilled her and cloaked her with dread.
She wanted a companion to journey beside in this life, but if they ever married, he would expect her to give up nursing to create a home—and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that yet.
“You’ve got a telegram in my office,” he said. “Have you seen the papers? Johnstown, Pennsylvania has been destroyed. Miss Clara Barton is leaving with a crew right away. She wants you to report to headquarters immediately.”
Her heart raced. This was it. After all those months of apprenticing under Miss Barton and earning her place within the Red Cross, the chance to use her skills and serve others had come.
She went to fetch the telegram, but Doctor Martin caught her apron strings.
She spun back around, her face filling with another round of heat.
He chuckled while she sputtered and retied her bow.
“Don’t worry, no one was looking.”
“It isn’t funny.”
“Lighten up, Annamae.” His whispered scold was gentle. “Life is too short to be so serious all the time.”
His gaze wandered to some faraway place behind her. He was thinking of his wife, no doubt.
Her temper cooled.
“You just startled me is all.” When his attention swiveled back to her, she smiled her apology.
“I’m hoping I have time to escort you to dinner before you leave. If Johnstown is as bad as they say, I may not see you for a very long time.”
Will you miss me? The foolish words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. “You’ll have Martha to keep you in line.”
He rolled his eyes, eliciting a giggle from her. Martha was the oldest nurse at the hospital and the most scatterbrained. The staff spent as much time monitoring her as they did the patients. Even so, Martha’s job was secure since she was the older sister of the hospital’s director.
“Doctor Martin,” Nurse Bennett whisper-shouted from the other side of the room. She gestured to a lump completely covered with a sheet.
A patient gone to Jesus.
He held up a finger.
“The telegram is on my desk. If there’s time, Annamae, any time at all, please allow me to see you before you leave.”
She nodded and watched him walk away.
The delicate way he said her first name when no one else was around to hear was romantic enough to make her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.
But adult relationships had very lasting consequences, and she wanted to be absolutely certain of her feelings for him before she led him any further.
She enjoyed his company and their easy friendship and didn’t want to break his heart. Matthew had already suffered enough.
Walking at a fast clip, she went into his office and retrieved the telegram delivered at six o’clock this morning. She glanced at her timepiece. Ten thirty. She had to hurry to catch Miss Barton before the first responders left.
Annamae scribbled a quick note she left on Doctor Martin’s desk and exited the hospital, only to be reminded of the waterlogged streets.
Well, there was nothing she could do other than remove her shoes, wad up her skirt, and walk.
No matter the risk, she was not missing this opportunity with the Red Cross.
Curious onlookers watched her as she prepared for her venture out.
The water was chilly, and she prayed she didn’t step on anything that would pierce her feet.
Thankfully, at the end of the block, the water receded, and 8th Street was dry.
She lowered her skirt but kept hold of her shoes.
Dirt and grime stuck to the bottom of her stockings.
No matter. Miss Barton would have a Red Cross uniform for her to change into anyway.
The streetcar was still running north on 9th Street.
She waited, and when the next car arrived, she hopped on and paid the fare, ignoring the scandalized looks of the other passengers at her traveling without shoes.
Three quarters of an hour later, she stepped off at the corner of 9th and I Street and hurried to the Red Cross Headquarters.
The building was abuzz with telegraph machines clicking and workers gathering and stacking supplies. Annamae found Miss Barton on the second floor, issuing orders to the porter regarding the delivery of her trunks to the train station.
The petite woman frowned at the shoes in Annamae’s grip and at her stockinged toes peeking out from the bottom of her skirt. Creases of disapproval appeared around her eyes and mouth. “Miss Worthington, there you are. I was about to send Jeffries to the hospital to fetch you.”
Annamae apologized and started into the story of why she was late and not wearing shoes, but Miss Barton held up her palm.
“We haven’t time for excuses. However, there’s always time for propriety.
Haven’t we discussed not allowing your passion to overshadow your good sense before?
The Red Cross must maintain professionalism. ”
“Yes, ma’am.” Annamae studied the floor.
Miss Barton relayed the details of Johnstown to Annamae.
The devastation was as bad as the paper had described.
“I need you packed and your trunk at the station by four. Bring only one. We’re meeting Doctor Hubbard and traveling as close to Johnstown as we can get.
I’ve already alerted the Pittsburgh Red Cross to meet us there with supplies.
The rest of the team will follow us in a few days.
We must hurry, Miss Worthington. The survivors of Johnstown desperately need our help. ”