Hancock smiled. “I’m not surprised. Well then, why not firm them up and then we’ll talk again. By the way, when the time for the big attack comes, you will not be alone. There will be additional mischief afoot. The navy insists on coming along for the ride and causing at worst a major distraction that will further confuse and demoralize our enemies.”
Hancock turned and saw Ruta Holden standing a short distance away. She looked worried. She was also wearing a brightly colored full length skirt instead of the cut down man’s uniform the nurses had been wearing.
The general nodded and smiled affably at her. “Ryder, did you know that churchmen up in the states are outraged that female nurses would dare to go to war wearing men’s clothing. They say it’s lewd and licentious and that only whores would dress as men. Of course, they don’t give a fig that it’s the best, most efficient and even most decent way for a woman to treat a wounded patient. They cannot imagine that a man who’s been seriously wounded would have priorities other than getting a stiff dick and having it serviced. Lord, what fools some mortals be.”
Ryder laughed. Again leaving the confines of Matanzas had paid dividends. The women were actually able to shop in area villages and get women’s clothing. Sarah had purchased several brightly colored Cuban style dresses and he thought she looked marvelous in them and much more carnal than when she’d been wearing a man’s army uniform.
“Ryder, why don’t you go and see what that poor woman wants. It doubtless has something to do with your betrothed. You and that other nurse are betrothed, aren’t you?”
Damn, Ryder thought again. Does everyone know about our private lives? “General, I sure as hell hope so.”
* * *
At Ruta’s urging, Martin immediately went to Sarah. He found her in the back of one of the hospital tents and sitting among piles of supplies. Her face was red and it was obvious she had been crying.
Martin sat down beside her and held her hand. She immediately grabbed his with both of hers, pressing hard with surprising strength. “I may be losing my brother. He may be dead as we speak.”
“What happened?”
“What almost always happens when one is wounded on a battlefield. Despite everyone’s best efforts, his wound became infected. I got a telegram that said he’s on his way to Washington where my father can pick him up and give him the personal and sanitary care he couldn’t get in an army hospital.”
Ryder couldn’t argue with her assessment of the army’s hospitals. So many doctors were little more than well intended butchers for whom sanitation was still an undefined word. “Are you going to go to be with him?”
Tears began to spill down her cheeks. “What, and leave you to get into trouble? No. Even though I would like to be at his side, the situation is like I said. He may already be dead. Or he may be recovering in which case my trip would have been just as futile. My place is here, with you and with the damned army and all the new wounded I’m going to see.”
Ruta was at her accustomed place blocking the entrance to the store room. Her back was turned to them, not that he cared if she saw them together. She was, however, preventing anyone else from seeing them. He put his arm around Sarah’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He kissed her gently and planned to stop with that, but she suddenly returned his kiss with an almost savage fervor. Wonderful, he thought, and returned the favor, matching kiss for kiss until they were gasping.
She pushed him back and smiled. Her concerns about her brother were clearly fading. “We have to find a better place to meet than army supply facilities.”
“A bedroom would be nice. By the way, General Hancock referred to us as betrothed. Are we betrothed?”
“Yes, Martin, a bedroom would be ideal and, yes, we are betrothed. I was hoping to wait until we got back to the States before either getting married or consummating our relationship, but I wonder if that is the best course of action. Perhaps we should look into finding someone who would marry us. However, and even though I am only a nominal Protestant like you, I don’t think I want us to be married by a Catholic priest. And further, I don’t want our honeymoon to be in a warehouse unless it’s a very nice warehouse.”
“I understand.”
She stood and straightened her dress. Somehow it had ridden up above her lovely knees. “Good. I feel better now knowing that our wedding is in your capable hands.” She smiled and tenderly kissed him one more time. “Now you have two assignments. You must plan both your battle and our wedding. Good luck, dearest.”
Yes, he thought, and he knew which will be the more difficult-The wedding.
* * *
Kendrick stood on the second floor balcony of Dunfield’s home and stared into the distance where clouds of smoke and fire were being swept by the wind. Small groups of Spanish soldiers ran down the streets. They were out of control and had begun looting and beating civilians. Dunfield had hired a number of men to protect his property and they were heavily armed and visible. The mobs prudently looked for easier pickings. It disturbed Kendrick that somewhere out in the city was Juana’s husband and leading a band of men reputed to be religious fanatics and quite violent. They hadn’t yet made a move towards Dunfield’s estate and Kendrick wondered if it was because of Dunfield’s British connections or because the place was a fortress. Kendrick didn’t doubt that Salazar would someday make a move.
Behind him and prudently indoors where the mob couldn’t see him, Custer was crowing that the army had finally arrived and was going to rescue him and restore him to the presidency. It could be, Kendrick admitted. But was putting Custer back in the White House the wisest course of action? But then, what other course of action was there? As long as he lived, Custer was the President of the United States and Chester Arthur was only the acting president. But what if he didn’t live, Kendrick thought and quickly banished it.
He had another thought and decided to ask the question he’d been deferring.
“Mr. President, just who started this bloody war?”
Custer blinked in surprise and laughed when he realized the implications of the question. “Are you accusing me of being so duplicitous as to have caused the massacre on that ship? Not a chance. I may be a merciless bastard and my wife a skilled conniver and Blaine a lying snake, but neither of us betrayed the Eldorado and caused that massacre. I’ll admit that we gave it some thought, but we found out that the Spanish already knew everything about the ship, including its crew, cargo and destination. Hell, they even knew you were going to be on board. What we really thought would happen was that everybody would be taken prisoner, tried, found guilty, and sentenced. Then they would be sent to a jail until ransomed or something diplomatic occurred. Maybe the Eldorado’s captain would have been hanged and maybe one or two rebel leaders as well, but that’s the cruel price of a failed rebellion. I have no idea what would have happened to you, but I did think your exalted status as a journalist would have provided you with a degree of safety.”
“But you did nothing to stop it.”
“We didn’t find out that the Eldorado was actually going to be intercepted until it had sailed. By then it was far too late.”
“Then who did tell?”
“Who knows and who cares and why the hell should we have had any concerns,” Custer responded. “Everyone on that ship was a volunteer, including you. For all I know it was those American daredevils who wanted to conquer Cuba for their own purposes or even the Cuban rebels who caused the massacre in an attempt to drag us into their damn war. If that’s the case, they succeeded beyond their wildest expectations.”
Custer lit up a cigar and drew contentedly. “Personally, I think there were so many leaks in the Eldorado enterprise that it would be impossible to trace and identify the source for that damned book you’re so hell bent on writing.”