Page 31 of The Secrets We Left Behind
“I could use part of my dress,” she suggested. “I don’t want you being any more exposed than you need to be. I have to keep you warm.”
Jack grunted. “You need your clothes. You can’t go looking for somewhere safer for us without them.”
She pressed her hand over his stomach as blood started to seep out again, the warm moistness against her skin so overwhelming she didn’t know what to do. She needed a hospital and proper medical supplies! Cate’s breath came shuddering out of her just as Jack’s head dropped. He was leaning back against the side of the ditch now, but he bent and touched his wet forehead to hers.
“What are you scared of?”
“Losing you.” She blurted it out, wishing she could take it back the moment the words left her lips.I can’t lose someone else, Jack, I just can’t.
“Dying here with you sounds a lot better than taking a German bullet, so don’t sweat it.” She knew he was trying to sound jovial, but he couldn’t disguise the painful grunt that accompanied his words.
“Don’t sweat it?” Cate laughed, trying not to cry. She punched his arm. “Trust you to crack a joke at the most inappropriate time!”
They sat quietly for a moment longer, as Cate ran through a hundred different scenarios in her head. She had to be strong; she was their only hope now, and Jack was leading her to an area he thought was friendly, so it was up to her.
“Let’s take your trousers off,” she said brusquely, hoping he had underpants on.
“Aren’t you going to at least take me out to dinner first?”
Her hand covered her mouth as she gulped back a laugh. “How are you joking at a time like this!” she scolded. The poor man must have been in a world of pain, but still he managed to make her smile.
“In all seriousness, I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
She blushed but refused to acknowledge it, even as he chuckled. Clearly there were no underpants.
“Your shirt then,” she said. “Let’s take it off and I’ll use it to tie around your stomach to stop the bleeding.”
She took over holding the blanket above them, thankful that the rain had eased to more of a drizzle. She watched as he lifted his arms, saw the pain in his face and wished she had something to give him. Even just the smallest amount of morphine would have done so much to ease his suffering. His shoulders and chest were muscular, and she realized then how different he was from her Charlie. Where Charlie was white as snow and skinny, Jack was more tanned and had a build that told of physical work perhaps, and he had a sprinkling of dark hair arrowed down his chest. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever evenhadsuch an eyeful of Charlie’s body in all the years she’d known him!
Cate shook her thoughts away, not wanting to start dwelling on Charlie as well as worrying about her growing feelings for Jack. Instead she took the shirt from him and used one sleeve to wipe around the wound. It was impossible, though; she couldn’t clear the blood or mud completely, and her fears about infection trebled.
“This is going to hurt a little, but I have to tie it firmly,” she explained, reaching to secure it around his back.
He let out a hiss. “It’s fine. I’ve felt worse.”
Once she was as happy as she could be with it, she leant against him, drawing the blanket around her other shoulder.
“What do we do now?” she asked, as gunfire started to boom even closer to them. She looked at Jack and saw that his eyes were shut, his pain making his face look so strained and tired.
“We wait until nightfall,” he murmured. “Then you go for help.”
Cate reached for his hand, linking their fingers as she closed her eyes.If he even makes it until tonight.
“I’ve never been so hungry in all my life,” she whispered.
“I’ll teach you a little soldier trick,” he said, his eyes opening halfway, lids hooded as he watched her. “Here, pretend this is a can of beans.”
She frowned, but reached out anyway for the imaginary beans. “You actually do this?”
She shouldn’t have asked; it was obvious he wasn’t joking. “Once we found one can of baked beans for our entire unit, and when we shared them out, there were three beans each.”
“You truly had so little food at times?” she asked.
“We used to sit together, delirious with hunger sometimes, and pretend we were eating steak and mashed potato,” he said. “It sounds strange, but it can make a desperate man feel better.”
And so Cate sat, crouched in mud that was making her lose the feeling in her toes, using a pretend knife and fork, eating pretend beans and potatoes. Tears spilled then, dropping in plops down Jack’s cheeks and spilling fast down hers as she chewed her imaginary dinner and wondered if, real or not, it could be her last.
Cate touched her palm to Jack’s cheek. He was cold and clammy, and although she wasn’t surprised by the damp or the cold, given the conditions, she was worried about how long he’d been sleeping.
