ashes in the wind kathleen woodiwiss free download

ashes in the wind kathleen woodiwiss free download

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Switch to English sign up. Phone or email. Posted on Monday, 16 December at AM. Blog provlater's blog provlater. Send a message Give a gift Follow Block Choose this background. Time 19th century , , , , 20th century , Civil War, , Colonial period, ca. Add to List. March 31, Edited by Clean Up Bot. September 4, Indeed, no bird of paradise ever lent more attention to her preening than did Roberta.

Once under way, the ornery nag settled into a bone-rattling trot, punctuated by grunts and wheezes, until he was convinced that no amount of fakery would regain him the comfort of the carriage house. Though it was still early in the morning when Alaina arrived at the hospital there was already a train of ambulances before its doors and attendants were unloading wounded by the score. Alaina could guess the reason. Although the Mississippi River had been open to Federal shipping since mid-July and Baton Rouge was considered secure, General Taylor was recruiting for the Confederacy in up-country Louisiana and was making himself felt by waging a continuous guerrilla battle against the outlying fringes of the Yankee Army.

The blood and gore soon forced Alaina to retire from the crowded hallways, and the last she saw of Captain Latimer that morning, he was sorting out the wounded and determining which could afford to wait a few hours, or even a few days.

The latter cases were rare, for only the more seriously injured were sent back to the hospital for treatment. The rest were treated in field hospitals nearer the action. How the captain could manage to be the sparkling guest Roberta expected that evening, Alaina could not begin to guess, and since she had determined not to be present at dinner, she would have to wait and hear the results at some later date.

In the late afternoon, it became difficult to carry out her chores, for she could no longer avoid the wards where the newly arrived wounded were being treated unless she totally disregarded her duties.

As she worked, she often had to glance away as a running or gaping wound was uncovered, and her stomach heaved at the stench of putrid, rotting flesh. But when an oozing stub of a limb was brought into view, the sight proved too much, and she fled outside through the nearest door with a hand clutched over her mouth, helplessly retching. Her exit was badly timed, for Cole had taken a moment of rest outside and was there to witness her humiliation as she discarded her lunch behind a convenient bush.

Too mortified to meet his amused gaze, she accepted the handkerchief he dunked in the watering trough. Cole shook his head.

But then, it was probably the easiest money she would ever make, for Captain Cole Latimer was as neat as his appearance suggested. As it was, she took pleasure in avoiding the captain for the remainder of that afternoon. Small revenge to be sure, but revenge she could afford.

It was a relief that her labors were shortened this much, and she made a mental note to thank the man. She scooped a handful of oats into the grain box for the already dozing Tar, knowing that if Uncle Angus learned of it, he would sorely protest this squandering of the precious grain. He had two gaits. A loose-jointed shuffle appeared to be his normal one. It was perhaps faster than a walk. But when an unusually winsome mare happened by, the blood stirred in his veins, he arched his scrawny neck, flagged his tattered tail, and with great effort actually lifted his hooves from the ground, all of which resulted, if a rider was present, in a spine-snapping trot.

In her dirty, ragged garb, Alaina felt much akin to the unhandsome steed. His Scottish frugality displayed itself as he murmured a few embarrassed words on the hardships of war before tucking the coins away in his purse.

Alaina was fully aware that available goods for the store were sharply curtailed since the occupation and that his account books were heavy with entries of unsatisfied credit. It gave her a sense of freedom knowing that she did not further burden his resources. The lantern was doused, and through the darkness Alaina groped her way along the flagstone walk from the stable to the house.

Hopefully she would not be expected to work the later hours very often, but with the overload of wounded this day there had been no chance to escape the rapidly mounting chores and no sympathetic ear to listen to her complaint. Doctors apparently had little compassion for the healthy and able.

In the converted pantry, the boyish garb fell into an indiscreet pile on the floor, given no more notice by the one who gradually lowered her aching body into the water. Alaina moaned a soft mewl of delight. After the long, tiring day, when she had to drag herself through the last hours of work by keeping the thought of a bath uppermost in her mind, she intended to enjoy it now at her leisure.

Slowly she lay back and closed her eyes, letting the heat seep into her tired limbs. Only a moment of this revelry had passed when the rattle of the doorknob made Alaina sit up and snatch for a towel. Without so much as a knock, Roberta came boldly in, beautifully clothed in a red crepe de chine dressing gown. As she paused and shaded her eyes against the lamp, the wide sleeve fell back, displaying exquisite white, ruffled lace at her wrist. Her cousin began to pace fretfully, a difficult task considering the narrow space left by the tub.

It had all the appearance of being a long session, and though Alaina objected to this intrusion, her voice was casual and chatty. I thought you were having a guest this evening? I wish these damned Yankees would get their war over with! Roberta rarely, if ever, concerned herself with the casualties of war. Just look at this! He sent this instead. An emergency! All the Yankees ever do is march about Jackson Square or ride their horses up and down the streets to look threatening.

How can anybody get hurt that way? Why, New Orleans never had such a cleaning! And here we all were hoping the Yankees would come down sick and die.

It went against her grain to defend a Yankee and his reasons for not coming, yet Alaina realized her own comfort was at stake. Despite her great reluctance, she relented. The wounded were brought back, and the doctors were kept busy trying to tend them all. I had to haul away bloody bandages and muddy clothes all afternoon just to keep an open passageway through the wards.

And I wish you would stop calling me Lainie. You know I hate that name. Surely other doctors are there to bandage up those men. Alaina glared. Alaina looked at her suspiciously. He might not let you work there after he finds out.

If you want Captain Latimer so much, take him. Roberta sulked for a long moment, but realizing even a fine pout would not impress her cousin, changed her tactics. Roberta was the epitome of angelic goodness now that her tirade was spent. Daddy said it would be. Alaina wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something sour. She propped her elbow on the rim of the tub and leaned her chin in her palm.

She could almost spell out what was coming next. She rose with a delicious giggle and kicked the ruffled lace at the hem of her nightgown before she danced out of the cubicle. Roberta leaned in with a smile on her face. Waving her fingers coyly, she pulled the door shut, leaving Alaina at last to her bath.

Alaina climbed from the now-cool water and ruefully regarded her own water-wrinkled fingers. Chapter 5. ITwas not difficult for Alaina to avoid the busy doctor, yet far too often for total peace of mind, she found herself forced into his companionship.

Though it gave her some assurance that he had not yet guessed her secret, she wondered if all he saw was the soot on her face, for it was there his criticism thrived. He could not know, of course, of the effort she took to smudge her face every morning or of the treatment her short mane received.

The dirt and grease had proven an excellent replacement for the old battered hat that he had forbidden her to wear in the hospital, but it only aggravated his ambition to see the urchin clean. Look at your hair! The night the captain came to call on Roberta, Alaina took herself far from the house. She had no intention of joining the group for dinner.

The older cousin sought her out as soon as possible, not caring that Alaina was just dozing off to sleep when she burst into her room. That would be rude. I imagine when the old man dies, Cole will inherit all of his fortune. Why, he already owns properties of his very own. Now tell me, what man without money can boast of that? Alaina peered up at the ceiling thoughtfully. But I know how to ask subtle questions to find out things.

Alaina stifled another yawn. I nearly fell asleep by the bayou waiting for that critter to leave. Can we talk about this some other time? I have to get up with the sun. Roberta sighed as if in sympathy with her cousin. By now Al made the rounds of her wards in two days, cleaning and scouring and scrubbing as if only to show one Captain Latimer that she was worth every cent of her wage despite her own untidy appearance. The wounded soidiers began to welcome the break in the otherwise endless monotony.

Al began to exchange quips with them, sometimes biting remarks returned in anger, but as the soldiers became known as individuals instead of faceless enemies, the tones softened. Questions of home and family were asked, of origins and leanings, political and otherwise. Some soldiers struggled to retain some humor in this dismal place.

With these Al exchanged light banter. Others were dismayed at their wounds and disappointed with the pain and effort of life. To these Alaina gave a challenge, a dare to live. To those who were deeply injured, she grudgingly gave pity and sympathy and an odd sort of bittersweet tenderness.

The packet of letters she carried to the post became a daily thing, and the appearance of the youthful lad with his bucket, brooms, and mops was awaited with eagerness by those who were trapped in the wards. It gave the day a brightness, a spark so small yet brightly seen and cherished.

The dull gray silence of the wards had yielded to a youthful and oftentimes rebellious grin. The musty, cloying odor of molding debris became the pungent scent of lye soap and pine oil.

The moans of pain were now more often hidden beneath a muffled chuckle of laughter or the low-voiced murmur of shared experiences. For Alaina, it had begun as a simple chore—a job, a task, a way to earn money.

It soon became for her a time of conflict. Her sympathies were firmly with the struggling Confederacy, yet against her will she found herself liking some of these men, many within a year or two of her own age, and several much younger. Bold and brazenly righteous, they had marched off to do battle, much like her own father and brothers, thence to lie on narrow beds of pain and helplessly wait either healing and its rewards—or death. There had been times at Briar Hill when death seemed what every Yankee deserved.

Now she found it an agonizing experience to watch one of those same struggle through their last moments of life. She knew them! They were human! They ached! They suffered! They died! More than once she was forced to seek privacy where she stood with trembling hands clasped desperately across her mouth in an effort to hold back the sobs, while tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Her attempts to harden her emotions failed. Instead, she seemed to become more vulnerable to the hurt and agony of watching death have its way.

On this morning in early November, Alaina vowed to keep her distance from any who were close to that dark door. She carefully reasoned it through and came to the decision that the only way to avoid such disturbing grief was not to get close to it. It was a mild, pleasant day as she hopped onto the mule-drawn streetcar to continue her journey to the hospital. From there she walked to St. She opened her mouth to throw another retort but quickly snapped it closed when Doctor Mitchell, the surgeon general, stepped abruptly from one of the wards.

He looked at the suddenly red-faced youth, then frowned down the hall toward the tall, ignoring back of the captain. Alaina tried to swallow her discomfort. Captain Latimer is far too busy now to discuss your wages. General Clay Mitchell was the only Yankee yet she had not dared to stand her ground with.

He was a tall, barrel-chested Irishman, and though he demanded the respect of every man in the hospital, there was something kindly about the man. Closer to the surgery rooms, cots had been set up to accommodate the new arrivals, some of which writhed and moaned with pain while others wept softly. One lay apart from the rest; he was so still Alaina could have taken him for the dead. A bandage covered his eyes, and a thin trickle of dried blood trailed from the corner of his mouth.

His belly was covered with a sheet to keep the flies away from the wound that slowly turned the whiteness of the cloth to a dark, forboding red.

Here was one who was so far gone the doctors had chosen to delay treating him until those soldiers with a better hope for life could be. The sight made Alaina back slowly away. No more , she thought. She fled to where she kept the cleaning equipment, determined to keep her resolve, and busied herself with scrubbing the wood floor at the end of a ward where she was sure no soldier teetered near the brink of death.

Her promise to herself, however, was not to be kept. Even in the safe haven she had found, she began to hear the faint call of a desperate plea. She tried for some time to ignore it. A simple task to fetch the soldier water. But not her task! Never again! Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book. Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip.

Video Audio icon An illustration of an audio speaker. Kathleen e. Spiritual Warfare by Kenneth E.

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