Hi I've been rushed so this longer than the last but shorter than I would like. Enjoy : )

2/ Christian Charity?

"OH!" Sara jumped backward, startled. And then as an afterthought, "You're not dead."

He coughed and his eyes closed sending him back into unconsciousness. Her senses numbed slightly by this sudden realisation, Sara's mind thought only of logic and human necessity. She must help him. She made sure that he was still alive by placing her hand against his neck utilising the scant training she'd received from her father; there was a weak pulse.

"I must get him inside." She thought."He'll certainly die if he stays here much longer." She proceeded to half – drag/ half – carry him over to the hut, making sure that she jostled the shoulder that had been hit as little as possible. As gently as she could, she placed him on a pallet that she prepared by the fire. She laid him on his front so as to best reach the wound. She could see blood had already saturated the shoulder of his shirt. She must act quickly or he would die of blood loss. She ripped apart the sodden cloth and gasped as she saw the wound. The shrapnel from the bullet had torn apart the flesh and buried itself inside. Although they were not deep inside. She put the poker in the fire and caught hold of a long, thin knife that she usually used to cut meat. Though she had not had meat in many months. Quickly, she used the knife to lever out the few pieces of metal lodged in the wound. There were three in total where the bullet had broken apart. More blood began to well out of the wound. The tip of the poker had begun to glow red. Pulling the metal shaft from the fire and placing a knee in the small of his back to prevent him moving, should he wake up and cause more damage to himself, she placed the tip of the poker in the wind and pressed. The metal sizzled and the blood flow stopped instantly. At least he was unconscious. Once she had cauterised the wound, she threw the poker back into the fire and began ripping up an old sheet. She bandaged the wound, wrapping the fabric around to hold fast. Once she had finished, she sat back and took a breath. Her son chose this moment to start bawling. Jumping up she, picked him up and rocked him, worried that he would wake the soldier.

"Shh." She whispered against his cheek and eventually he calmed. She was thankful that her boy hadn't caught a worse cold than before from the events of the morning. She made light bouncing movements and eventually he calmed down.

Sitting down on the bed, she watched the soldier, curiously.

There was still quite a large chance that he would die. Then she would be a murderess. It was an ugly thing to be. She held her boy tighter, rocking him as she felt him grow tired and fall asleep against her shoulder. She placed him back in his coat.

She walked over and placed a thin blanket over the youth and poked at the fire. Satisfied that she had done all that she could do, she stood up. Extinguishing the only candle in the room, she returned to her bed. The light from the coals was now the only source of light in the small hut, flickering across her back as she quickly removed her outer dress and put on her nightgown, casting nervous glances at the soldier. She had seen that it had grown dark outside and there was no moon.

A new fear rose within her. There could be other Yankee patrols, or worse, men from the village who would punish her from taking in a Yankee even more so than a deserter.

She secured the door and windows and laid herself down to sleep though she knew ot would be unlikely tonight.

For now she lay, her eyes open watching the stranger.