Page 62 of Under the Tulip Tree

“Is that your man in there?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer. My feelings for Sam were too big and too confusing to explain to this stranger. “He’s a friend.”

She nodded. “I hope he makes it.”

“Thank ya.”

“I ain’t seen my man since the fightin’ commenced. I keep hopin’ he’ll turn up....” She shrugged and returned her gaze to the sky.

I knew the dead were still being buried, black men among them. But our people didn’t have the benefit of a marked grave like the white soldiers. I silently prayed her man wasn’t among them.

After making use of the indoor privy, the likes of which I’d never seen before, I returned to Sam’s room. A lone lantern sat on a table near the entry, casting shadows over the beds. Some of the men slept; some stared at the ceiling. I settled next to Sam’s bed, grateful no one had carried off the chair while I was gone.

I dipped a cloth in the basin of water and gently washed Sam’s face.

“You gotta wake up now, Sam.” I kept my voice low, not wishing the others to hear me but hoping Sam could. “The Yanks is chasing the Rebs south. I heard they’s down inColumbia. Makes me wonder if they’ll keep going till they get to the shore in Alabama.”

Did his eyelids flutter?

I leaned in close. “Miz Illa made it back from Franklin. Said things was fierce for a time, but now she’s back, working hard as ever. She’s over to the hospital on Front Street, but she comes by here to check on you.”

I waited.

My shoulders sagged when no response came. A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “Sam, you gotta wake up. You gotta get better. You made me a promise, and I’m gonna hold you to it.”

I rested my head near his heart, comforted by the steady beat beneath the blanket. As long as there was breath in his body, I wouldn’t give up.

It was some hours later when I woke with a start. Had someone spoken to me? Called my name?

I sat up. The room was dark save the lone lantern. The other men continued to sleep. No one stirred. I must have been dreaming.

When I turned back to Sam, I found his clear gaze fixed on me. “Sam,” I breathed.

A slight movement to his lips confirmed I wasn’t imagining. “I always keep my promises.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I planted my hands on either side of his face and kissed him. When I moved away, his smile deepened. “That there is what I been waiting for.”

Weakness kept his words from going beyond me, but it didn’t matter. He was awake and talking.

I fought tears that threatened to spill over. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you went out on that battlefield just so’s you could end up here, worrying me to death.”

He chuckled, then grimaced. A reminder to both of us his wounds were far from healed.

“Did we win?”

“Yes. The Confederates are on the run.”

He nodded and closed his eyes for a long moment before meeting my gaze again. “Did the boy live?”

The man amazed me. Despite nearly dying, his thoughts were on someone else.

“I don’t know.”

He was quiet for a time before he noticed his Bible in my lap. A knowing look came to his eyes. “You been reading God’s Word.”

It wasn’t a question. I looked down at the book. “The others like hearing the stories.”

Sam’s gaze went beyond me to the darkened room, where beds were mere shadows. “How many?”