Chapter X:
"Marie, I need to speak with you."
She turned immediately, looking at the woman behind her, and
offering her a slight smile.
"All right." Sensing it was more
important than her task of folding towels, she set the pile on
her lap down on the table and got up. Having a habit of
fidgeting, Marie straightened her dress and fixed her hair and
hat to keep her hands busy, whilst she followed the woman.
"I've just spoken to an army official.
They are growing short handed... they need all the men they can
get. Now, I know no one here is healthy enough to go out just
yet. But he was insistant. I asked him to give me two
weeks."
"That's reasonable." She was only
half paying attention, but the nurses around here were used to
that. After seeing all the wounds and deaths of young men and old
alike, one's eyes tended to glaze a little in remembrance. Of
course, Marie's mind was only partly on Jacob. Mostly, it was
thinking on Logan, and all that he'd had to say the previous
night.
"Is there anyone you know of, Marie, that
could leave here in two weeks?"
"Two weeks?" Yes, she knew someone
who was able to leave in two weeks. She knew of someone who was
able to leave tomorrow, if they needed. But she couldn't possibly
tell them that, could she? It wasn't her place. She didn't know
how Logan felt about going, and she knew, personally, that she
didn't want to see him go. Work always came before anything else
in her life... at least, before she was shipped across the
Channel and brought to France for first aid purposes. Of course,
at first, everything was all right. But then fate had to guide
Logan to this hospital... despite that there were at least ten
others in the area. Good Lord, she should curse fate, shouldn't
she? "The man in bed two... the one with the sling... he'll
be ready by then..." That's it Marie, save him by naming
others. Or are you saving yourself? "And... bed four, with
the eye patch. Betsy's been working on him, and says his vision
will be up to par in no time..."
"What about that man in bed two? The one
involved with the mine? The other two have died from it. Will he
follow the same path?"
"No ma'am... he's a fighter... Ah think
he'll make it."
"Yes... he has shown considerable
progress. Perhaps you should take him around for a walk today.
Get him some crutches, see how well he works on them."
"We don't want to rush things,
ma'am..."
"It is not your job to tell me what you
think. It is your job to humor these men until they are healthy
enough to rejoin the fighting. Is that clear?"
"Yes ma'am, Ah just..."
"Yes?" Her eyes were narrowed on
Marie, and for a second she stopped breathing. She wondered then
if the old woman knew of her feelings for Logan. By denying that
he was well, was she just signing his name onto her list of able
recruits? Or was she just announcing her feelings for all to
hear. If they suspected her feelings, they would send her back
home. Having him around much longer was not safe...
"Ah believe he'll be ready in two
weeks."
"Really? Well! That's good news isn't
it?" Marie watched her bend her head to add his name to the
list, not able to control the feeling of betrayl growing.
"That's all. Back to work!"
"Yes ma'am..." God, she sounded like
a robot... 'Yes ma'am. No ma'am. Perhaps, ma'am.' It made her
crazy. Folding the last of the laundry, she put the towels back
on the shelves where they belonged and went to Logan, taking a
pair of crutches along. This would not be a surprise to him. She
was going to tell him herself... prepare him for it.
"Mornin', Marie." The voice was
definitely enough to send her back the way she'd come. Somehow,
she stood firm and forced a smile, knowing full well it didn't
fool him. "What's with the crutches?"
"We are goin' for a walk. Lord knows those
poor legs of yours haven't had much exercise in the last few
days." She busied herself with work, as she usually did to
avoid things. Pulling back his blankets, she focused on moving
his legs around the bed and helping him to stand. God knows how
amused he must be by all this... her pretending to help him when
in truth he didn't need it.
Once he was steadied on the crutches, and after
she'd made sure they were just right for someone of his height,
she started walking. She hid a smile, knowing that he'd probably
never used the crutches before, seeing as how he wobbled from
side to side and barely got the hang of them. Of course, it was a
good thing too, since it truely looked as though he was having
trouble putting pressure on his legs. "Which one of my legs
is supposed to be bad again, I forget..."
"Whichever you like. Ah figured Ah
wouldn't write a particular down, in case we evah forgot an' had
you walkin' on one tha first day, an' on tha other tha
next."
"Good plan." He nodded his approval,
but didn't look up at her. He was too busy concentrating on the
floor and making sure that his face never came closer to it than
it was right then.
"You're doin' fine..." She led him
outside, where the remains of a garden were, and walked in
silence a while. She didn't know how to tell him about what she
had done. It was an awful thing, something she doubted he could
forgive her for. But it had to be said, so that he was ready for
it before the two weeks was over. "Ah have a confession. An'
it's one you aren't goin' to like much."
"What? I have to stick around here a few
more weeks?" He looked up at her suddenly and offered a
slight grin. In the past four days of being with him, she'd never
once seen an actual smile. They were all half smiles, cocked
grins, and so on. Maybe one day... "Somehow I think I'll
manage." She recognized the look on his face because she'd
seen a similar one the night before. God, he was making this
harder than it had to be.
"Logan..."
"There's no use tryin' to lie 'bout it,
Marie. I know you feel it too."
"Whether Ah feel it or not is not the
present issue." He nodded, and her heart sank at the
knowledge that he wasn't paying any attention to her.
"Someday you'll say it. You'll look at me
an' say it flat out."
"Logan, this mornin' mah superior asked me
who was ready to go back into war in the next two weeks. Ah told
her by the end of that time you would be up and ready to fight.
She's sent your name, with a list of others, back to the army
official who'd proposed the need for more men. After two weeks,
Ah'm never gonna see you again."