Pamela Ackerson’s
A Rosa for
Russell
Several
days later, Rosa was treating a prisoner placed next to Russell’s cot the night
before. The boy didn’t say a word. He watched Rosa attend to his injuries.
Russell
asked, “How’s he doing?”
Rosa
jumped. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I
was but I don’t ─I haven’t slept well lately.”
“Understandable.”
Russell
whispered, “He said they tortured him.”
She
clenched her jaw. The boy’s injuries weren’t consistent with normal wounds. The
medical supplies were practically nonexistent. Torturing the soldiers was
absolutely unnecessary.
It
just made her madder than a mule chewing on bumblebees.
“You
bring in your own medicinal herbs, don’t you?”
She
nodded. If she hadn’t known how to use medicinal herbs, it would’ve been much
worse. The prisoners were living in despicable conditions.
“It’s
disheartening,” Rosa’s voice broke.
“What’s
disheartening, my sweet Rosa?”
Rosa
shuddered. “Why torture them? Can you imagine how desolate and alone these
prisoners feel? I couldn’t handle the depression, and I’m not even a captive. I
can’t fathom how some of them have survived.”
Sarcasm
with a drip of amusement rang in his voice. “Actually, yes, I can imagine how
they feel.”
She
sucked in a quick breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t
you worry your generous heart. We’ll be fine.” Russell looked over to the
patient next to him. “Won’t we, Rogers?”
The
boy nodded.
“Okay,
Russell. Now you’re awake, let me look at your wound.”
He
rolled to his side so she could get a better look.
“He
was with my company.”
“Who
was?”
“Rogers.”
She
bit her lip.
Russell
grimaced. “He helped me when I needed it most.”
Rosa
nodded as she checked him.
“My
brother…” His voice croaked.
She
grabbed supplies and waited for him to continue.
“My
brother was right next to me when we both were gut-shot. They got him in the
face, too.”
She
watched Russell’s chest rapidly quiver up and down. She put her hand on his
racing heart.
“Wasn’t
much left of his head. I put him out of his misery.”
Rosa
tears crawled slowly down her cheek. A gut wound was the most excruciatingly
painful way to die. But on top of a head wound…
Russell
rasped. “My hand shook so bad, I would’ve missed if I used my pistol. The boy
handed me his knife so I could send my Kev to the Lord.”
Rosa
sucked in a breath.
“It’s
how Rogers got the bullet. He put himself in harm’s way so my brother wouldn’t
suffer.”
“Oh,
Russell.”
He
whispered, “I had to kill my own brother. I’m a murderer.”
She
looked toward the boy who was vehemently shaking his head. “He did what he
needed to do. I don’t know if I could’ve done it.”
Russell’s
voice was broken. “My brother. He was a handsome man and well-liked. He loved
to joke and be friends with everyone.”
Rosa
massaged his forehead. “Hush. You’re getting yourself upset.”
“He
saw the Rebs and jumped in front of me to take the bullets.”
“Shh…you’re
here now. It’s over.”
“Oh,
lass, it’s just beginning. I have a bigger fight here.”
“I’m
sorry. I truly am.”
“Not
your fault. You’re doing what you can. You’re saving a lot of Union soldiers.”
She
grunted. “Yes, to send them back to the pens.”
“But
they’re alive.”
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Short
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