Americans -- Cuba -- Fiction; Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Fiction
Ruth always told old Mage the happenings of the day as they were seated
at their evening meal; her old nurse loved to listen to her animated
account of every little thing that she remembered that she'd seen or
heard about; she had an unusual memory of small details and a most
graphic power of description; these she employed to interest and amuse
her old nurse who had been alone with little Tid-i-wats, almost all day;
in recounting recent events she passed as lightly as possible over the
occurrences of the battle-field where she had found and rescued one who
had been left as dead among the lifeless bodies of the slain; she did
not wish to shock old Mage too much and, somehow, she did not wish to
speak of him she'd rescued ... somehow, she feared that her auditor, who
was always eager for romantic episodes would, maybe, choose to enter
into rhapsodies concerning the possibilities of her own future if she
talked too much about the handsome stranger, for remembering how he'd
looked resting, as she'd seen him last, upon the little cot, his
dark-blue eyes regarding her with whimsical tenacity, she freely
acknowledged to herself that he was handsome and distinguished in
appearance; so she changed the subject when old Mage began to question
her too closely about him, and, in the changing of the subject, the rosy
flush that was so much a part of her expression, crept over her fair
face and lighted up her deep gray eyes until her countenance was
glorified, as if her inner consciousness shone through her delicate and
expressive features; old Mage observed this blush and speculated on its
cause and wondered whether Ruth had found another man more worthy of
affection than the one she hoped she had almost forgotten.
When Ruth returned, the next day, to the hospital, she went among the
little cots until she came to that one where he lay ... the man she'd
helped to rescue from a slow and very painful death; she found him lying
wide awake and very thoughtful:
"Tender Heart," he said, "Tender Heart, you've come to me, again; I've
longed for you and now you're here beside me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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