Page 30 of The Secrets We Left Behind
“You asked to see me?” she called out, ducking her head in the open doorway.
“Yes, my dear, come in.”
My dear? Matron never softened her words with kind phrases. Cate swallowed and walked to her desk.
“I’m sorry if I’ve—”
“Cate, you haven’t done a thing. Please. Sit.” Matron gestured at the spare seat and Cate sat, hands folded in her lap.
It was then she saw the piece of paper, folded in half, and Matron gently nudged it across the desk toward her.
“Cate, I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ve just received a telegram. It’s terrible news about your fiancé.”
A small cry escaped her lips as she reached for it, hands trembling. Her fingers fumbled as she opened it, eyes scanning the page frantically, and then reading it over and over again. It was from Charlie’s mother.
Charlie was missing in action, presumed dead.
Tears filled her eyes as Matron rose and came to comfort her, arms cocooning her, shushing her as she might a child as Cate cried.
“He went missing in the line of duty, a hero until the very end,” Matron murmured. “We will all pray for you tonight, my dear girl. I’ll send one of your friends to spend the rest of the evening with you, and of course Lilly has been notified too.”
Cate composed herself, the words from the telegram running on repeat over and over in her mind. He’d been missing for more than a week, presumed dead only weeks after being deployed. The day they’d arrived in Dunkirk, full of smiles, eating lunch in the sun, he’d probably already been killed. The one person who’d understood her, who’d seen what her life had been like after her father’s death, had known how damaged she could be sometimes.
All this time she’d been thinking about him, wondering where he was, whether he was looking up at the same star-filled night as her, and he’d most likely been gone.
She pulled herself from her memories and glanced over at Jack, his eyes shut, his full lips slightly parted as he shielded beneath the blanket alongside her. Jack had made her smile from the day he’d regained consciousness on her watch, and despite everything he’d been through, there had been a lightness within him, something that had given her hope all over again. After weeks and months of doing her job because it was her duty, routinely going through the motions with a numbness deep inside her, Jack had brought her back to life without even knowing it, his presence making her feel again. Which was why she’d never have fled the hospital that day without him. If he hadn’t agreed to come with her, she’d have been taken along with everyone else; she knew that as clearly as she knew her own name.
But now the man she’d have done anything to save was chattering and shaking from the cold, and as the sky continued to lighten,she realized that his shirt was covered in blood. A deep dark red stain that was spreading across the fabric right before her eyes.
Panic rose within her, its tentacles spreading through her body as she stared at his abdomen, knowing how serious his bleeding could be. If she didn’t help Jack soon ... A cold chill settled over her as she steeled her jaw and fought the tears that threatened to spill. He could be dead by nightfall, and then she’d be alone, in a country she barely knew.
Gunfire echoed close by, followed by the roar of what she supposed could be a tank. It was one hell of a time to be surrounded by the enemy in the middle of a bloody battle.
“I have a feeling I walked us straight into the worst of it,” Jack said. He must have seen her horrified stare because he looked down, one of his hands slowly reaching up to touch his stomach. His palm fluttered first, as if he wasn’t sure whether to touch himself or not, and she reached for him, pressing it there for him.
“Jack ...” she started.
When he looked up, he gave her the smallest smile, their eyes meeting. “You should have left me behind. I’m only going to slow you down.”
“If I didn’t have you, I would still be hiding under that ambulance, if I’d even left the chateau at all,” she told him, as the rain began to fall even harder, starting to soak through their blanket. Her uniform was drenched and she suddenly had the most terrible feeling that she’d be recognized wherever she went because of it. There was no possible way she was going to be able to pretend she was a French woman if they were found.Was there?
Jack’s face had lost its smile, his eyes full of sorrow now, and she wished there was something she could do to bring his spark back. It was why she’d been so drawn to him in the first place, because there was something about him that always pulled her from thedarkness of her thoughts. Without it, the doubts would seep in and paralyze her with fear.
“Come on, let’s figure out how to stop this bleeding,” she said, trying to sound bright and wishing she had hot water, bandages and food on hand, and knowing it could be days before they might have any of those things. “Hold the blanket high for both of us for a moment.”
Rain soaked through her back as she tended to him, but she ignored it, even as it trickled right through to her undergarments. She should have been checking his wound regularly through the night, but instead they’d kept pushing on and Jack’s condition had deteriorated rapidly.
Despite how cold she was, Cate broke out in a sweat as she examined him, her face suddenly burning hot as the seriousness of his wounds became apparent all over again.
“It’s not good, is it?” he whispered, lowering the blanket, his arms shaking from exertion.
Cate glanced up at him, not saying a word because she couldn’t lie to him.
“We either need to sacrifice a piece of clothing or rip off some of the blanket,” she said, trying to wear her nurse’s hat and forget about any emotional attachment she had to him.Focus on the wound, just focus on the wound. “I need to do something quickly before you lose any more blood.” She was also deeply worried about hypothermia, given how fragile he was.
“Take my shirt,” he said.
Cate cringed as she looked at his abdomen. She touched her fingers to the edge of his incision line, worried that so many of the stitches had come loose. She knew how quickly infection could set in, and the worst-case scenario was that he’d need surgery again. That would mean certain death for him.
