Go faster!
Thomas couldn’t ignore the terrible anxiousness any longer. He ran. Something wasn’t right. He needed to get back to them. The package he carried under his arm scolded him. If only he’d waited to buy the fabric, he could have been there by now.
The impression came yet again and he quickened his pace, jumping over logs and ducking under branches as he flew across the path.
Soon the sound of someone running reached him. And the sound of crying. His heart leaped into his throat.
Only the slightest sliver of light remained, leaving the forest around him dark. He could barely make out the silhouette of someone coming toward him.
“Mr. Watson!”
“Miss Katherine!”
Her terror-stricken face, evident even in the dim light, sent chills over his body.
“Mr. Watson! Mr. Watson, help us!” She cried and reached for him, her fingers gripping him like ropes of iron.
His back and arms cramped as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” He looked around and his breath caught. “Where’s your sister?”
She trembled under his fingers, so winded she could hardly speak. “They have her! They have her!”
“Who? Soldiers?” He gripped tighter.
“Not soldiers. Two men . . . they took her . . .” Kitty tried to continue, but couldn’t.
“Where did they take her?”
She pointed in the direction of where they’d been waiting.
Thomas gripped her elbow and ran, his heart pumping so fast his ribs shook.
It took less than a minute to reach the place he’d left them earlier that day. There was no sign of Eliza. Or anyone else.
“Liza!” Kitty cried, wrapping her arms round her.
Thomas scanned the area, searching for anything that might give him a clue, but he saw nothing.
A piercing scream split the air sending an icy shiver over his back. When it came again another second later both he and Kitty dashed in the direction of the sound.
In seconds, the horrifying scene came into view.
Eliza lay on the ground, one large man crouching in front of her, while a second knelt behind her, his knees on her outstretched arms, holding her down. The fat savage by her legs fumbled with her skirts as she struggled to get free. He cussed at her to keep quiet and stay still.
Thomas’s body nearly split in two as hot rage shot down his spine. He dropped the package and burst into the small clearing. Lunging at the larger man, he yelled with barbaric volume. His veins pumped fire. He plowed into the fat man’s torso, sending both of them flying and landing in a tangled heap.
The man’s meaty build flexed beneath Thomas’s body. The attacker fought back, but his efforts were vain. The sorry excuse for a man didn’t stand a chance. Not after what he tried to do to Eliza.
As Thomas prepared to strangle the assailant, Eliza screamed again. This time, two octaves higher. Keeping his hands on the fool’s neck, he whipped his head around and saw the other man stretched out on top of her. Eliza tried to wrench away, but her attacker pinned her down.
Thomas pounded his fist into the sailor beneath him with the force of cannon fire. The crack of the man’s jaw met with a terrible wailing and he stopped fighting to hold his face.
The other stranger grabbed a knife from the side of his belt and yelled as Eliza continued to writhe.
Bolting toward the struggle, Thomas skidded on his knees and lunged for the weapon, but the boney man turned toward Thomas at the last second, brandishing his dagger. Thomas stopped the man’s arm with his hand just before the blade sliced his cheek.
Eliza struggled to free herself from underneath the fighting men, but was trapped beneath their weight. Thomas squeezed the man’s wrist and twisted it with all his strength in an effort to make the man drop his knife on the ground.
The sailor’s grip didn’t loosen. But his stance did.
Before Thomas could stop him, the man pitched and fell forward with all his force onto Eliza, his knife slicing into her abdomen.
She screamed. A terrifying, ear-splitting sound.
Thomas froze.
Without thinking, he shoved the man off Eliza, the knife following him onto the ground. He grabbed the weapon, slippery from Eliza’s blood, and plunged it into the man’s chest.
A guttural moan ballooned around them before the soldier quivered and flopped motionless against the ground.
Thomas couldn’t stop shaking. He just killed a man. Forgive me, Lord. I only did it to protect us all.
The fat one, whose jaw Thomas had broken, yelled something heinous as he stumbled about in the dark, away from the scene and out of sight.
Thomas flew to Eliza’s side. Kitty did the same with uncontrollable sobs.
“Liza! Liza! Wake up!” she said, kneeling by her sister’s bleeding body.
“Eliza!” Thomas crouched over her. Dear God, please help her!
She groaned and tried to push him away.
“Eliza, it’s me, Thomas. I won’t hurt you.” His voice cracked. His limbs shook.
Eliza’s body went limp. Her head rolled to the side and her arms flopped to the ground.
Thomas reached for the lifeline in her neck. A soft beating nudged his fingers. Thank you, Lord! He pulled away to check the rest of her.
Her hair had come undone and lay tangled across her neck and face. Her cloak was missing and the skirts and petticoats she wore were ripped.
He touched her body, talking to her in gentle tones as he worked to find where she had been injured. A warm liquid pumped from her torso through her stays.
“Is she dying?” Kitty wept.
“I don’t know.” He ripped the bodice of her dress and using the same knife, cut off her stays.
Kitty knelt beside him. “What are you doing?”
“I need to stop the bleeding.” He rent a large section of Eliza’s already tattered petticoat and wrapped it around her tiny waist, then carefully placed his own jacket around her shoulders for warmth. He prayed the bandage would hold back the surging flood long enough for him to get her the proper care she needed.
Please, Lord Almighty. Don’t let her die!
Thomas picked up Eliza as carefully as he could manage. “We must get to town as quickly as possible. I have a friend who is a doctor. He’ll . . . he’ll know how to help her.” I hope.
He continued to speak to Eliza as they dove through the dark, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. Her slender, limp body rested in his arms and an animal-like urge to keep her alive raged through him. Eliza’s limbs and head flopped and swayed with his movements. Was she already dead? No. She couldn’t be. God wouldn’t let her die. Not now.
“Miss Katherine, tell me what happened. Who were those men?”
She started crying again at the question and took several seconds to answer. “I don’t know. They came from nowhere.” She wept louder. “Eliza knew right away what they wanted. She . . . she offered herself, to keep them away from me.”
Thomas prayed like he’d never prayed before. Lord, please spare this remarkable woman.
They reached the clearing that led to his house just as his legs were ready to burst. Once on the stoop, he kicked open the door. Racing up the stairs, he plowed into the largest room.
He placed Eliza on the bed as if she were made of glass.
“Whose house is this?” Kitty asked, shaking.
“It’s mine.”
“Yours?”
“There’s a candle on that table over there in the corner,” he said. “Light it and bring it here.”
Kitty obeyed and soon the glow of the lantern crawled over the bed and across the floor, revealing Eliza’s gruesome state. Her dress was covered in dark red fluid from her legs to her neck.
He took the lantern from Kitty’s trembling hands and set it on the stool next to the bed. The poor girl stood motionless, her hands assuming prayer position.
Thomas took her by the shoulders, speaking
firm but calm. “Kitty, I need you to keep constant pressure on Eliza’s wound until I get back. Do you understand?”
Her eyes bulged. “Where are you going? You can’t leave us here. She could die!”
“If I don’t leave, your sister will die! I need to get the doctor.”
Kitty looked ready to faint, but nodded and did as instructed.
Thomas reached Nathaniel’s in mere minutes and explained the horror as they ran back to the house.
When they returned, Thomas found Kitty just where he’d left her. She sat on the bed next to her sister, pressing a wad of cloth on Eliza’s wound. Kitty’s hands and arms were covered in blood.
“How is she? Has she moved? Has she said anything?” Thomas questioned, taking quick strides to the bed.
Kitty only shook her head, tears still pouring over her face.
Thomas looked at Eliza’s pale features and feared for the hundredth time that she wouldn’t make it through the night.
Nathaniel flew to the other side of the bed and began his examination, taking over Kitty’s job of covering the wound. His face scrunched and he mumbled something under his breath as he touched Eliza’s neck.
“What? What is it?” Thomas snapped.
Nathaniel didn’t answer.
“Well?” Thomas stepped closer.
Nathaniel untied the wrap around her middle and ripped open a large slit in her bloody chemise. The sound of the tearing fabric made Thomas shudder, remembering the sound of the dagger piercing her flesh.
He stared for the first time at the hole in Eliza’s belly. The gash looked smaller than he’d imagined, but it bled like it was ten times its actual size. Nathaniel pressed a fresh wad of cloth into it.
Thomas clenched his fists. This should never have happened. He should have been there. He should have kept her safe.
Again Nathaniel mumbled, then turned urgent eyes at Thomas. “Help me get her out of these bloody clothes so I can tie a proper bandage around her.”
Thomas’s face slacked.
“Get over here! This is no time for modesty, Thomas. It will be safer for her if we both lift her,” Nathaniel commanded.
Thomas didn’t move. This might be life and death, but he still couldn’t do such a thing.
Nathaniel shook his head and growled. “You.” He pointed at Kitty. “Get over here and help me.”
Thomas moved out of the way, then turned his face to the wall, running his trembling hands over his hair. “Is she dying?”
No answer. Nathaniel instructed Kitty when to lift Eliza, when to lay her down, and how to help him tie the bandages.
“Nathaniel! Answer me!”
“Thomas, she needs a shirt. Now.” Nathaniel’s voice remained calm but acute.
Thomas flew to the dresser, careful to keep his gaze away from the bed, and yanked out one of his own. Keeping his gaze to the floor, Thomas held the shirt to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel snatched it from his hand. “I wish you wouldn’t worry about propriety at a time like this.”
Thomas ignored him and continued staring at the back of the room, biting the inside of his cheek and praying.
“She’s decent, Thomas. You can turn around now.”
Thomas spun on his heel, holding his breath.
Eliza wore his shirt and a blanket covered her lower half. Her hair remained disheveled and her sweet face looked gray. Blood still covered her chest and neck.
“I’m still waiting for an answer, Nathaniel. Is she dying?”
“I don’t know!” Nathaniel shot back, holding Eliza’s wrist between his fingers. “Only time will tell us that. Though I will tell you it could have been a lot worse. It appears that the knife missed her vital organs, otherwise there would be no hope for her at all.”
Thomas remained at the end of the bed, staring at the painful sight before him. He turned toward Kitty who stood near the table in the corner, her bloodstained hands covering her face as she cried.
“Nathaniel, that wound was deep. Why didn’t you stitch it?”
“I could have, but I chose not to. Stitches can sometimes make such injuries worse. As it is you’ll have to monitor her wound carefully, and often.” Nathaniel wiped his red hands on another cloth. “It’s better to leave it as it is.”
“Tell me what to do.” Thomas’s voice shook when he spoke. All attempts to remain composed failed.
“Try to stop the bleeding. It’s not flowing as forcefully as it was, from the looks of things, but she is by no means out of danger. She cannot afford to lose any more blood.”
Nathaniel rose, his mouth tight.
“What is it? Tell me!” Thomas yanked on his arm.
Nathaniel glanced at him, his eyes holding a critical edge. “She needs our prayers.”
He walked away from the bed and lowered his voice. “I shouldn’t give you false hope. I can’t pretend that her situation isn’t very grave. These types of wounds don’t . . . they don’t . . .”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Thomas knew exactly what he meant. The news came as little surprise, but it still made his knees buckle.
Nathaniel continued, staring at Eliza. “If she develops a fever, or the wound begins to look gangrenous, call for me at once. If she—I mean, when she wakes up, keep her in bed as long as you can. Try to give her broths and other fluids to keep her strength up. Change the dressings as often as necessary.”
Thomas blinked and nodded in response, trying to keep the whirlwind of emotions from stealing the last bit of strength from his limbs.
With a gentle squeeze to Thomas’s shoulder, Nathaniel softened his words. “You did your best, Thomas. It’s not your fault.”
Thomas clenched his teeth and exhaled loudly. “They tried to have their way with her.”
Nathaniel growled low. “Did they succeed?”
Running both his hands over his head, Thomas peered at Kitty before answering. The poor girl looked tortured, her entire body shivering.
“I don’t know, though I feel certain they didn’t. But the fact that they tried, that they were so close . . .” He blinked his burning eyes. “If I’d have been there this never would have happened.” He breathed harder at the memory of those men on top of her. Killing that man didn’t seem like a harsh enough punishment.
“Did they get away?” Nathaniel asked.
“One of them did. I killed the other.”
Nathaniel’s hands flopped to his sides and his jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“I had to.” Thomas strained to keep the volume out of his voice. “He tried to kill me and may have even killed Eliza! What choice did I have?”
Nathaniel wagged his head and wiped his palm over his eyes. “I’m not blaming you. Anyone would have done the same, but you know what this means, don’t you? That man’s body will be found, and when it is, people will be looking for who did it.”
“I don’t care. My only concern is to keep Eliza and her sister safe, at any cost.”
“If you’re lucky,” Nathaniel continued, “the other man will simply move on and you can lay low to avoid the soldiers, just as you intended to do. But if he doesn’t, and he tells of this ordeal, you might have to stay in hiding much longer than you thought.”
With a groan, Thomas looked at the ceiling. Nathaniel was right, but at this moment that was the least of his concerns.
“I’ll return in the morning,” Nathaniel said, patting his arm.
Thomas moved his gaze to the dying woman in his bed. “Will she make it ‘til morning?”
Nathaniel whispered his answer. “Pray, Thomas. Just pray.”
Pain remained constant.
Eliza tried to move, tried to escape the agony, but something held her motionless. She wanted to cry out for help, but her mouth refused to move.
Where is Kitty? Is she all right?
The agony surged through her again—pulling, ripping, charging.
Then, she felt nothing. A sweet peaceful rest enveloped her.
Suddenly th
e war for life plunged upon her again. Then nothing.
Am I dying? Lord, I’m not ready to die!
Quiet commotion surrounded her, and she sensed a devoted presence always at her side. But nothing could calm the storm of misery that raged within her.
She burned, then shivered. Her muscles convulsed as if to crush her very bones.
She had to give up. How much longer could she fight a losing battle? Finally, her strength surrendered.
In a slow, easy motion, all her pain and worry evaporated into a beautiful calm. She opened her eyes and realized that every ounce of misery had gone from her body.
Next to her bed stood Father. He looked young and strong. Not like he had when she’d seen him in his last moments, so weak and thin. A radiating light surrounded him, and when he smiled, a peaceful warmth burned in her chest.
The longing for his nearness crashed upon her. She reached for him. He took her hand, the love in his eyes penetrating her from head to toe. Eliza started to get up, to be next to him, to embrace him, but he leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Your mother and I miss you, dearest. And Peter too. However, your time has not yet come.”
Eliza tried to speak, but the words she formed were silent. Peter? Peter missed her? Did that mean he’d forgiven her for what she’d done? She shook her head in confusion.
Father smiled. The tenderness from his gaze once again pierced her heart. “You are not responsible for Peter’s death. Do not deride yourself for decisions of the past. God called him home. It was his time. Now you must give God your pain. He will carry it.” He gripped her hand tighter. “Eliza, be wise. The choices you make for your future are paramount. God’s work for you is not finished, my dear. You have much yet to do.”
Again Eliza opened her mouth, ready to protest, to break loose a flurry of questions. What choices would she have to make? What work did God have for her to do?
Father kissed her fingers then released his hold and stood straighter, and it was then Eliza realized she could see straight through him. He smiled. “We will be with you, waiting for you, my sweet. We love you.”
No! Don’t go, Father, please!
He winked, the way he used to do when he couldn’t give Eliza the answers she wanted. “Follow your path of peace, Eliza. Follow what you believe.”
So Fair a Lady (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 1) Page 10
