Page 40 of The Secrets We Left Behind
Elise’s smile was warm, and Cate felt the kindness in it. “Of course I can.”
Cate had stripped down to her undergarments and redressed in an upstairs bedroom, and Elise had taken her dirty clothes, so she had no idea where to retrieve her belongings from. With both Elise and Adelaide gone now to do her bidding, she was left alone with the two men, but it didn’t concern her. She’d spent her childhood joined at the hip with her older brothers, her protectors who’d never let anyone hurt her, and then had been surrounded by men as a nurse, so she was fine. But not knowing Harry’s story bothered her, all the same. Where had he come from, and how had he managed to find his way to Elise and Adelaide? Had he just arrived or was hea deserter? The thought was unsettling and she eyed him cautiously as she shuffled closer to Jack.
“What actually happened to him?” Harry asked as she bent low over her patient, gently trying to untie the knot she’d made earlier around his abdomen.
“He’s never told me,” she admitted, thinking of all the stolen moments she’d shared with Jack, sitting by his bed. Only he’d never let himself be drawn on what had happened, always changing the subject, asking about her, making her laugh even when she was so tired she’d wanted to collapse into sleep until her next shift started. But something about Jack had always drawn her back in. “He had two surgeries to repair internal damage. He was in such a bad state when he arrived that I don’t think anyone expected him to make it, there was so much blood pumping out of him.” She sighed, remembering how another soldier had come in with him, hand pressed to Jack’s side in a desperate attempt to stem the blood. “And yet, here he is still. He’s a fighter, that’s for sure.”
Harry nodded, and she saw in his eyes, in the way he held her gaze so calmly, that he understood. Maybe she’d been wrong to think he could be a deserter; she had the feeling that he might be the complete opposite. There was a steadiness about him that she imagined he deployed with his troops.
“Sometimes we get lucky, sometimes we don’t,” he said. “It’s as simple as that. It’s the times you think you’ll make it that sometimes end up the worst.”
She had so many questions, but she didn’t want to press him. If they were going to be stuck in the same house together, hiding, they were going to have plenty of time to talk. And unless he knew something she didn’t, they wouldn’t be leaving in a hurry unless the Allies magically managed to storm back through France and regain all the territory they’d lost.
“We could give him something to drink, to help with the pain,” Harry suggested.
“Might need to save it to use on wounds,” she said. But when she glanced down at Jack, at his pale, damp complexion, she relented. “Well, maybe just a little, to ease it. But we need to be sparing.”
Harry left her then, no doubt to retrieve the alcohol; and Cate took a moment to hold Jack’s hand, whispering to him, “We’re safe here, Jack. You’re going to make it.”
His eyes held hers, but he didn’t say anything, and when Harry returned she held his head, cupping the back of his skull as Harry tipped the bottle to his lips. She watched Jack’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and after two sips she gently lowered his head back down.
Adelaide and Elise returned with everything she’d asked for, and as everyone sat back and gave her space, she started to work.
“What can I do?” Elise asked.
“Hold the fabric steady while I cut it,” she said, having given up on untying the shirt around his waist. She could see from his sharp intake of breath that it hurt too much to tug on it. “There might well be a lot of blood when this comes loose, and I’m going to clean the wound, stitch where I have to, and then get him bandaged up. You might need to help hold the skin together, though, because it’ll be hard going using a blunt needle and regular cotton.”
She set to work, and soon found herself surprised by Elise, at how strong and capable she was. They continued on in silence, Cate holding her hand out and asking for supplies as she needed them, and Elise passing them to her, placing her hand for pressure when she needed it and cutting the end of the thread when Cate had finished the painstaking job of pressing the needle back and forth through Jack’s skin. It had been almost unbearable, the feel of the too-blunt needle, fighting for each thread, as if she werepressing through fabric that was too thick to be stitched. Harry had held him down by the shoulders, trying to keep him still as she’d worked, and now, under the light of a lamp and with the fire still flickering beside them, she was finally done. And thankfully, Jack’s groans of agony had abated, too.
She’d bathed the needle in alcohol, as well as the incision line, in an attempt to stave off infection, and Cate knew that the only thing she could do now was to keep the wound clean and replace the bandages regularly. The rest was out of her hands, and she had no medical supplies to turn to if anything went wrong.
“You’re finished?” Adelaide asked, coming in to the room with a tray.
Cate flopped back, leaning against the closest chair, her legs feeling like jelly and certainly not capable of rising yet. She could see that Adelaide had made a hot drink for them, and there was food, too.
“Yes,” she finally replied. “Now we just have to pray that I’ve done a good-enough job of patching him up.”
She sat, gathering her thoughts and steadying her breath, as she stared over at Jack. He was still stretched out in front of the fire, eyes shut and his chest rising and falling heavily. It was a blessing that he was asleep, that he’d finally succumbed to the pull of slumber as she’d finished her work, because the pain was going to be immense when he woke.
“We don’t have a lot, but I have some bread here,” Adelaide said, setting the tray down on a small table beside the chairs. “There’s some jam too, although it’s a little tart as we didn’t have a lot to sweeten it with.”
Cate’s stomach growled as she wrestled with herself and tried to move slowly instead of behaving like a starved, wild animal. But the idea of jam, however tart, on any kind of bread, sounded like heaven to her. Harry stayed back as she took a piece and spreadit, before sitting down and forcing herself to slowly savor each mouthful.
When she finished, she realized that everyone in the room was looking at her.
“When did you last eat?” Elise asked.
Cate swallowed her mouthful. “I honestly don’t know.” Suddenly she couldn’t remember, the hours, days blurring together, her fatigue so deep, her hunger, her thirst ... It was all hitting her like a steam train. “The morning we left the hospital I suppose, so—” She wished she wasn’t feeling so foggy.
“Have another piece,” Adelaide said, taking a second piece of bread and spreading it for her. “You deserve it.”
Cate took it, pleased when the others settled down and ate too, making her feel less self-conscious, with Adelaide pouring them all coffee. It was the strangest scene, as if they knew one another when in fact they were all strangers sitting in a room, huddled away from the terrors of outside.
“Cate, I’m loath to ask because I can see how exhausted you are,” Elise said, as her sister passed a steaming cup of coffee to her, “but I’d like you to look at Harry before you turn in for the night. I did my best, but—”
“You’re injured? Of course you’re injured, I ...” Cate almost choked on her bread. She set it down and stood, ignoring the fuzzy sensation in her head, so tired she could barely stand. “I’m sorry, I should have ...”
“Because you had more important things to do,” Harry said, throwing Elise a look. “It’s nothing.”
