She doesn’t even act like she hears me. Gently, I place a hand under her chin, lifting her head, only to see blood running down her chin. As my eyes roam all over her, I find multiple cuts and scrapes that need tending to. The dress she’s wearing is no more than a rag, and when she moves her foot, I see her toes peeking out of her boots. Anger courses through me, and before I can stop the words, I roar out, “STRIP!”
And then, I watch her crumble. Catching her in my arms, I carry her into my bedroom. Leaning her against the wall, I reach up and with a small tug, her entire dress rips down the middle, and I see red again at the sight of all the dark purple bruises all along her ribs. Within moments, I have her completely naked and she’s trembling so hard, her teeth are chattering. I know she won’t believe a single word I say, so instead of trying to explain anything to her, I hope my actions will speak louder.
Picking her up, she goes stiff in my arms as I lay her on the bed. When she reaches for a blanket, I move it out of her grasp as I look over the many wounds on her body. Snarling, I storm out of the room only to hear her sobs a moment later. Grabbing all of the medical supplies I have, I head back into the room only to be greeted with terror-filled eyes.
“I am not going to hurt you.” But she’s locked in her own hell, and my words are either not getting through or she doesn’t believe them as tears flow silently down her cheeks.
Pulling out the bottle of salve I’d made for my own bruises, I hesitate to touch her. Grabbing a crate off the floor, I maneuver it next to the bed before sitting down on the side of it, my weight rolling her closer to me. Wetting a rag, I start with her face, gently cleaning away the dried blood. I find a few random freckles on her cheeks under all that dirt.
When I’m done, I lay the cool cloth over her swollen eye and cheek, then gently massage the herb salve onto the bruise covering the other side of her face. The entire time she says nothing, just looks up at me like she isn’t really seeing anything, and I wonder if the events of this day have broken her.
Even though she’s naked as the day she was born, I see nothing but new and old, faded injuries. It’s apparent Oren has been abusing her for quite some time, and her body is showing every strike. Not only is she dangerously thin, but she’s slight in build, making her even more vulnerable. For a moment, I remember another woman in my arms, and I wonder what she would think of the mess I’ve gotten myself into now. Those memories make me halt for a moment as I fight back the anger consuming me as Eliza’s loss consumes my thoughts.
She must have sensed the change in my mood because a whimper brings me back. Shaking my head, I refocus on what needs to be done. She doesn’t cry or whine, barely twitches when I touch something tender under her skin. At first, I was only rubbing the cream on the bruises I could see, but that quickly became most of her body. When I get to her ribs, I watch her grit her teeth together when my hand brushes the bottom and sides of her breasts as I try to determine if they are broken or simply bruised. It takes all my willpower to look away once done, as she has the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen on a female.
When I reach her feet, I’m not shocked to find blisters and broken toenails as her boots practically fell apart in my hands when I removed them. Treating the blisters with a thicker ointment my grandmother taught me to make, I glance up when I feel her instinctively try to pull her foot away when I probe one of the deeper cuts. I suddenly notice blood on her inner thighs, where she has her legs grasped so tightly together, along with more bruises. However, because she is already such a trembling mess, I’m not going to force her to let me treat those.
Making myself look away, it dawns on me that this poor girl was once someone’s daughter, or even a sister and that’s when I know what Eliza would have wanted me to do, but I am torn. I’ve not set foot in her room since I buried her out back.
Before I change my mind, I abruptly get up and head out of the room. Grabbing two of the largest pots I have and filling them quickly with water from the rain barrels on the porch, I come back in and remove the stew from the cradle. Then I set the pots in the fire to heat before going back to finish treating the rest of her wounds.
She’s staring at the ceiling when I walk in, her entire body covered in chill bumps. “Turn over.”
She doesn’t fight me, only wraps an arm around her ribs before moving, and without thinking, I let out a groan when I see her luscious, pale-skinned, perfectly pear-shaped bottom laying there. What the hell is wrong with men like Oren Lieber? To have a woman like this in your bed only to abuse and degrade her makes no sense to me. That’s when I see more marks in the middle of her back.
Before I realize what I am doing, my fingers trace the pale scars; these are not new. The fact that she’s been hurt her entire lifehas me snarling and she tenses up again. Gathering her tangled, long, golden hair up, I lay it out of the way before grabbing what’s left of the salve. I rub it on her back, then down her legs, which are shockingly long for someone this tiny.
Once done, I collect what’s left of my medical supplies, making a mental note to get more the next time I’m in town, and head back into the main room to check on the water. Finding it ready, I walk outside and turn on the overhead cistern so it can start filling the tub in the back room. Heading back in, I gather the pails of hot water, but my footsteps hesitate when I approach the only interior door in the cabin.
Making myself open it, I fight the tears that flood my eyes when the faint scent of Eliza’s perfume surrounds me. The entire space is covered in a thick layer of dust, frozen in time since I have not set foot in this room since she died. Wrangling my own inner demons, my consciousness tells me that Eliza would have wanted me to help this woman, and that’s enough to make my feet move forward. Grabbing my handkerchief out of my pocket, I wet it down and begin wiping the dirt off and out of the inside of the tub.
Once done, I look around, only to be forced to relive my last moments with her and how the world has seemed much emptier without her in it. All this time, I’ve left this room alone because in my mind, if it remained untouched, … Eliza would still be here. So why didn’t I hesitate when I realized how much better a good soaking would make Lauren feel?What does that mean?
Shaking off all the dark thoughts and memories that are trying to sink their claws into me, I dump the hot water into the large copper tub, then reach up and let the colder water run in. I smile thinking about the crazy amount of money Eliza wouldhave spent to have that roof cistern installed, simply because she loved being clean.
Testing the water with my fingers, I return to my own room only to find that Lauren has not moved. At first I think she might have drifted off to sleep, but then I notice she’s still trembling. Touching her shoulder gently, “Can you roll back over?”
Still not a single word spoken, but I wait until she wraps an arm around her ribs and is halfway over before I slide my arms under her knees and back, lifting her slight form. I cradle her against my chest. Even though I can feel the softness of her skin under my fingertips, I don’t let my eyes linger, and within a few steps, I walk into the adjoining bedroom. She gasps when she sees the tub, and I smirk, knowing she’s probably never viewed anything like it before.
When I start to lower her into the water, she grasps my arm tightly, practically crawling up my chest, her eyes wild and scared. Lifting her back up, I am confused by her actions.
“Look at me.”
Instantly, her hazel eyes focus on mine, and it takes everything I have not to swear when I see the cut on her lip is bleeding once again. “Do you know what that is?”
She shakes her head no and I curse my own ignorance. If she was born and raised out here, the odds of her ever seeing a bathtub this large is more than likely nonexistent. A hip bath possibly, but more than likely she probably went to the creek or simply sponged off.
“This is a bathtub and the warm water will soothe your muscles and your bruises. We probably should have done this before I put the salve on, but that’s neither here nor there. The wateris not deep, and the tub bottom is smooth and comfortable to recline upon. All you have to do is sit there and relax. However, before the water completely cools, I would like you to wash your hair. I may smell like animals and wood smoke, but there is no reason for you to.”
When I start lowering her, this time she looks at me, then back to the water. I can tell she’s still not sure, but she doesn’t fight me this time. She hisses under her breath when the hot water surrounds her tender skin. I don’t let her go completely until I know she is steady and sitting there on her own. The moment I straighten up, she tries to cover her breasts with her arms.
“Slide down until you get comfortable. I will bring you some soap and a dry towel.”
Glancing around, I wonder where Eliza would have put her sweet-smelling soaps, as I know my lye one will be too harsh on her tender skin. Opening a few drawers in her chest, I have to wave away the dust before finding a few towels and a bar of soap. In the same drawer, there is a pair of pantaloons and rags for her menses. Gathering these things, I start going through a few of the others, looking for a dress or even a gown, only to be shocked to find them all empty, and I wonder what happened to all of Eliza’s beautiful clothes. Turning with what I found, I find her staring at me, wariness and exhaustion covering her delicate face.
“I will put these here so that you can reach them. Take your time, but yell when the water starts to cool. Please don’t try to get out on your own; the bottom can get slick from the soap sometimes. The last thing we need is for you to fall or get sick from getting too cold.”
I close the door behind me, giving both of us some privacy. Walking back into my room my thoughts are heavy, making me almost trip over her clothes on the floor. Snarling, I grab them up in my hands then turn, throwing them into the fire, only to hesitate about doing the same to her boots. I will need at least one for sizing so I can get her a new pair.
