Forsaking All Others Read Online Free PDF Page A

familiar square of white cloth was clapped over my mouth and nose.
    “I’ll be back.” I pictured his eyes, narrowed the way they did when he had that crescent-moon grin—the one that started at the middle of his mouth and curled up to one ear. The one he gave when he wanted you to think you’d won.
    “Come ready to defend yourself.”
    I locked eyes with Captain Buckley, holding my breath until the pain in my head threatened to split my skull and I exhaled against the cloth.
    Then inhaled.
    Then, black.
    * * *
    My stomach roiled; bile filled my mouth. In an instinctive panic I rolled to hang my head over the side of the cot, but that put weight on my left arm, and the crippling pain of the action sent me flat on my back, gagging.
    “Here, now.” Captain Buckley’s voice came through the darkness and I felt myself being raised to sit up. A cool, smooth surface grazed my chin.
    My heaves produced little, as I’d had nothing more than water and broth for days, but my stomach fought valiantly to expel even this meager content.
    “It happens sometimes with chloroform,” Captain Buckley said.
    My throat raw from effort, my body came to a shuddering rest, and I relaxed against him. He slowly lowered me to be propped up by a bedroll and blankets, and I willed myself to die. But I had a final request.
    “I want to see my husband.”
    “I can’t help you there.”
    “He was here. I heard him. Right before—” My stomach cramped again, and my entire body responded.
    “You see? You’re in no shape to see anyone.”
    There was one man to whom we all answered, though, and as I found myself once again at rest, I risked saying only two words.
    “Colonel Brandon?”
    “Hm.” Buckley seemed to be waiting for me to settle; then, without a word, he left. My hope that he would return with the colonel was short-lived because in an instant he returned carrying a tin cup filled past its rim with snow.
    “This is fresh. Clean. Sent down from the heavens just a few hours ago.” He produced a spoon, scooped it full, and held it against my lips. “Don’t need to swallow. Just let it melt against your lips.”
    I took a measure of comfort at the coolness of the snow. It was, after all, the first contact I’d had with the world outside this tent in so many days. I savored it, fresh against my lips, and felt my entire body succumb to its nourishment.
    “Better?”
    I nodded.
    “I know you are probably in a great deal of pain right now. But we need to wait until it’s safe to give you anything more. Do you understand?”
    I nodded again and looked at the cup in a silent request for more snow. He complied.
    “As for Colonel Brandon—” his narrow eyes remained focused on my mouth—“you’ll be happy to know that he is just as anxious to see you. He’s waiting only on my word that you are up to the meeting. You need to be strong. We don’t want him to think you’re not up to travel, now, do we?”
    I shook my head, fighting to keep my breath steady, my stomach still. Captain Buckley wiped away the melted snow that dribbled down my chin.
    “Very well, then.” He set the cup squarely by my side and went to the tent flap, opening it but an inch to say, “Fetch the colonel.” A long, lanky shadow moved to obey. Private Lambert, no doubt.
    “I know you are in pain,” he repeated upon his return. And I was, so much so that the throbbing of it rang in my ears, making his voice seem very far away. “You mustn’t let on to Colonel Brandon just how much. Do you understand? He needs to think you are much stronger than you are, for all our sakes. Otherwise, he won’t move the camp, and we’ll all be stuck here like open targets in the snow. Can you manage?”
    I nodded, saving my strength to speak my mind later.
    “Good girl. You just let me speak for you.”
    At that moment, Colonel Brandon stooped to Captain Buckley’s stature and came through a bright gash of sunlight. He removed his hat and held it to his chest,