Several of the Continental soldiers froze at my words. Some seem hesitant to trust me, but I stand my ground with my head held high.
Not entirely sure they would listen to me, I was relieved to see John coming back.
"Men, stand down!" John shouts to his men.
"Is she who she says she is?" one soldier asks John.
"Yes, she's Washington's niece." John replies.
I turn back to Ross and kneel on the ground next to him.
"He needs help." I urge them.
"We need to get him back into the house, go grab a cot from one of the tents b the house. We can use it to move him." John orders his soldiers.
A few run off back toward the house while the John and the rest come over to Ross and I.
"He's been shot in the thigh." I show them.
"Why should we help him? He's a British soldier." one man scoffs.
"He could have hurt me, raped or tortured me, but instead he has been kind to me. He has kept me fed and comfortable instead of feeling like a prisoner. If I say you help him, you will help him." I glare at the soldier.
When the other soldiers returned with a cot, I went on ahead to the house and started rounding up supplies and boiling some water. I cleared the kitchen table to make room for where they would lay Ross.
John tried to get me to leave the kitchen when the soldiers brought Ross in. I shut John up with a cold stare.
The soldiers were cutting away the fabric of Ross's pants so they could see the wound. I knew what would happen next, they wound remove the bullet, burn the wound to clean it, and then stitch it up. The most painful part would be the burning, and it would be worse if we could find anything to help with the pain.
Remembering Ross mentioning a bottle of whiskey he kept in his trunk at the foot of his bed, I run upstairs. I knew that Ross kept the trunk locked, but he trusted me enough to tell me where the key is.
Once I grab the bottle out of the trunk, I lock it back up. I consider putting the key back in it's hiding place, but I knew that John would eventually search through all the British soldiers' things.
Instead, I hide the key in a hidden pocket on the inside on the waist of my skirt. I then grab a clean pair of pants for Ross to change into after they treat the gunshot wound.
Just as I get down the stairs, I hear Ross cry out in pain.
I run back in and see four men holding Ross down while another soldier tries to pull the bullet out. I place the bottle on a side table next to a bowl of warm water with a bloody cloth in it.
"Give him this to help with the pain." I tell them as I motion to the bottle.
I pour the dirty water outside before I refill it with hot water. I begin looking through cabinets for clean cloths to use.
"Katrina." Ross moans out through a clenched jaw.
I turn around and walk over to him laying down on the table. A soldier has to move aside so I can stand where Ross can see me. I grab hold of one of his hands.
"I'm right here. It'll be over soon Ross, you'll be okay." I say to him soothingly.
Ross whimpers slightly and a moment later I hear the bullet clank as it is put into an empty bowl.
"This next part you shouldn't be in here for." John says to me quietly.
"I'm not leaving him John."
"Katrina, this isn't going to be pretty. I've seen it done, some men don't handle it well. And not the ones who have it done to, the men watching. A lady shouldn't have to see this." John argues.
"Fine, but as soon as you're done fixing him up, you will come get me. And don't bother him with questions. He's a good man, not like other British soldiers." I say sternly.
"Alright, but we need to talk after all this. I'm serious Katrina, your uncle has a letter he wanted me to give you. You can read it now while we finish bandaging him up. Then you can go talk to him and after a while, we can talk." John says as he reaches into his coat pocket to hand me an envelope.
I take the letter with shaky hands. I go sit in the parlor. I sit by the window so the sunlight will help me read. I open the letter and unfold it.
My dear Katrina,
I apologize it has taken me such an unforgivable amount of time to realize the danger you must
be in. Being under such high stress and dangerously high-risk battles, my neglected attention to
you has been a forgotten thought. In no way do I find my reasonings excusable. I hope that by
the time my letter finds its way to you that my men have gotten to you before you get hurt. I am
aware that there are some British soldiers who have respect and honor to treat a woman kindly
even if she could be a threat.
I have ordered my men to rescue you from whatever prisonment they find you in. My men will
bring you back to York where I will be anxiously waiting you along with your Aunt Martha. For
the time being, your things will remain where you are now. Once we have most of the British
soldiers on boats back to Great Britain, we can send men to retrieve your things. Until I see you
agin, please take heart in the fact that we have won the war.
With much love,
Your Uncle George
YOU ARE READING
Ross Poldark's secret
Historical FictionI thought he died in the war. The man I fell in love with was a soldier of the enemy. Captain Ross Poldark. We met during the war, I was trying to run. I knew that I was in great danger, but Ross kept me safe. I refused to talk to any of his men...
