Falling for the Enemy

Broken

                                                                                 Henry

Catherine still hasn’t moved but I can feel the faint rise and fall of her chest so I know she is still alive.  I take my canteen and press it to her lips “Catherine if you can hear me drink”  slowly I tip the canteen so water runs over her cracked lips. She still does not respond.  Again I press the edge of the canteen to her lips and once more pour water into her dry mouth, but this time her lips respond to the water.  Her lips begin moving searching for the source the water came from.  Groaning, Catherine opens her eyes and blinks, and then suddenly she is flailing in my arms.  

Catherine pounds her hands and arms feebly against my chest.  “Catherine, Catherine, it’s me, it’s me,” I say grabbing her arms to hold her still long enough to recognize me.  Instantly her body freezes as her eyes meet mine and soon recognition washes over them and she begins crying.  She is no longer fighting me instead she is clawing at me to hold me in a tight embrace.  I remember holding her like this once before, it was the night we buried the man she killed, and now here we are again.  She curls into me like an injured child seeking shelter from everything cruel in the world.   Carefully I take her into my arms and with all my strength stand up and begin carrying her towards the horses.   I have her cradled in my arms and I intend to keep her there for a long time.  

Arriving at the horses I set her on top of Galway, hoping she can keep her balance until I mount Galway and sit behind her.   Sitting behind her I wrap my arms tightly around her to steady her on the horse and begin guiding the horses back towards Moher.  I am careful to move the horses at a slow pace because I am afraid that if we move too quickly Catherine will fall from the horse.  Her body lays almost entirely limp against me and the only thing keeping her on the horse are my arms that are wrapped around her like barriers to keep her safe.  She lies with her head on my shoulder and her eyes closed. With each step Galway takes, Catherine’s head bobs from side to side.  We move in this manner for hours and we do not come upon the house until the sun is getting ready to set.  

“Catherine we are almost home” I whisper into her ear.  Moving ever so slightly she barely musters enough strength to lift her head from my chest and open her eyes to see Moher.  

“Mary” she whispers.  

“Mary has gone to Georgia.  She left on the 2:30 train yesterday.  She thought you were angry with her.  She doesn’t know what happened.”  I say resting my cheek on hers. 

“Good” is all she says in response.  

I guide the horses to the front porch where we are greeted by frenzied house staff.  

“Oh god, Miss Catherine what did they do to you,” Sarah says rushing toward the horses.  I gently hand Catherine down to Sarah and Samuel and they support her weight until I am able to dismount Galway.  When on the ground I once again place Catherine in my arms.  

“The two men?” I ask.  

“Dead and buried,”  Samuel says in a low tone. 

I nod and begin walking up the porch steps.  

“Father” Catherine whispers.  

“Oh, Catherine he is so weak and resting.  He doesn’t even know you were missing.  We were afraid to tell him. We thought it would upset him too much.” Sarah says placing her hand on Catherine’s cheek to caress it.  

“You poor girl.  I will go fetch a water dish, cloths, and bandages” she says and then rushes off into the house.  

“Samuel, don’t let father or Mary know,” she says weakly reaching out for Samuel’s hand.  

“Miss Catherine,” he says unsure if he should obey her request. 

 “Samuel, please.” 

“Yes, Miss Catherine” 

 I carry Catherine carefully up the stairs and into Mary’s room. Gently I lie her down on the bed.   Sarah rushes in holding all the things she said she was going to fetch.  

“Sarah, go I don’t want you to see me like this.  I can take care of things from here.” 

She says gesturing for Sarah to go out the door.  

“Miss Catherine please let me help you,” Sarah begs.  

Shaking her head softly Catherine protests once more.  

“Please Sarah leave me.” 

Sarah hesitantly walks out of the room and closes the door.  Trying to sit up Catherine looks at me 

“Henry go.  I am well now. I will just clean myself up and everything will be fine.”  

Catherine stands up to her feet and instantly loses her balance and begins falling to the floor.  Reaching out for her I catch her in my arms before she hits the hardwood floor.  

“You may be able to order Sarah and Samuel around but you are not getting rid of me that easily,”  I say while guiding her back to the bed.  

“Henry please” she begs.  

“No, now hush, it’s my turn to help you”  she is too weak to fight with me and she gives in much easier than she usually would. 

“I am going to take your dress and undergarments off, so we can wash your wounds,” I say looking into her eyes for permission and handing her a blanket to cover herself with. 

Looking at me with uncertainty in her eyes she nods slightly and then turns her head to the side.  I gently slide her arms out of the sleeves of her dress and undershirt; I move the fabric slowly and carefully down her skin trying not to cause too much friction between her body and her garments, as I slide the fabric gently down her body, I can see Catherine’s face wincing and cringing in pain.   She never lets out a cry of pain but her face is giving her away.  Before I continue sliding her dress further down her body; I cover her chest with the blanket, and then continue inching the dress down past her rib cage and abdomen.  As I am passing this part of her body I can see the multiple blue and green bruises splattered over her mid-section.  She has obviously been beaten and I am worried that she may have a few broken ribs.    With each inch of fabric I remove, I replace it with parts of the blanket.