Catching the Column

"That's all right, Jenny, I ain't surprised. I wasn't thinkin' straight, neither. I'll do my best by her, I will." She needed someone to look after her, especially now, and Cotton couldn't walk away, even if folk thought he could - or, worse, should.

"I know. And I'm glad. But when I found her, it was all - do you want me to tell you? I don't have to. Maybe you'd rather not think about it."

He drew a breath. "I'm a soldier, Jenny. I've seen some pretty bad things on the battlefield. And if I'm goin' to help her, I need to know. I mean, what if I do summat that'll 'mind her of it, an' I don't know? An' she's real strong, inside, to have come back here afterwards, I know that. And, well, I just want to help the best way I can, Jenny. And somehow, thinkin' of what might have happened is allus worse than knowin' what really did happen, if you know what I mean."

She grimaced. "Yes, I know what you mean. I wasn't there when it happened, so I can't tell you all the details, but a lot of it is apparent when you look at her. In daylight, I mean. You'll see in the morning. She has a lot of bruises, including one across her face that's pretty nasty, and around her eyes. I think she might very well be embarrassed to show her face for a while - though she hasn't seen herself, so maybe she doesn't know how it looks. But to anyone who sees her, it will be pretty obvious that someone beat her." She wondered suddenly if people would assume it was Cotton himself who had used her so badly. Perhaps not. "I don't see how to get around it, though. But it's awful, knowing people are looking and thinking." But perhaps that was something Cotton could well understand, having been publically flogged.

Cotton nodded soberly. "It is. Folks can't help thinkin', and they never think they might be wrong." Anyone who saw his back would think that he was a thief and very few people would ever stop to think that maybe they could be wrong about him. At least Maggie's injuries, however bad they were, would fade with time.

"Ain't allus the wounds on the outside that hurt most, or last longest, though," he said quietly. It would take time for Maggie to be able to trust him again. Even though she might say that she did, he knew that it would only take one wrong word or action, however small, to make her hurt all over again. He sighed and gave Jenny a direct look. "She's a soldier, like me, inside. She'll get up, and get together an' get better, though it'll take time. An' she's goin' to need friends like you, an'... an' me."

"I know." She gave him a slight smile. "She is a soldier. I'd hate to come across her on the battlefield. There was one of the nuns at the hospital... Maggie didn't know what she was doing at the time, but oh, she was furious. I guess when I found her in the alley she was in too much shock - the alley a little ways from the stable..." She shook her head at the memory. "She hit Captain Hunter, too. Did he mention it?"

Cotton's mouth fell open. "She hit Cap'n Hunter?" he repeated in a low voice, shocked. "No, he never told me that. Though... I'm surprised she ain't hit me, though... it's early to say that, yet awhile."

He was going to do his very best by Maggie, if he would let him, but this fresh revelation of her strength of character had taken him by surprise.

"Well it was very dark, and Joe had gone up ahead, and there were some Portuguese men about... She didn't actually hurt him... She didn't know what she was doing."

"Even so!" Cotton was having difficulty comprehending the fact that Maggie had swung at an officer. "Reckon' I'd best not get her all riled up. Might find me self wakin' up after gettin' cracked over the head with a rollin' pin!"

"Or worse," Jenny said with a smile. "She had a knife when Captain Hunter came along. I had only taken it away moments before she struck out at him. But he was very understanding. I don't think he'll cause trouble over it."

She had a knife? If she'd managed to stick that into an officer, it would have meant an awful lot of trouble.

"I hope you'm right, Jenny," he said. "I really do. I just... hope I can help her."

"I'm sure you can." She smiled encouragingly. "Just be patient. It will probably take her a while to get back to normal. I mean with things like... touching, and affection, you know. I was the same way. Just give her some time to get used to trusting you again. I mean - to trusting you as a man."

He sighed. "That's the thing, ain't it? I just... I never bin in this position afore, that's all. An' Maggie bein' a woman, I dunno what she'd like me to do to help her." Though he could manage 'patient'. If there was one thing life as a farm worker taught, it was how to be patient, and he'd been a farm labourer most of his life, until he'd joined the Army five years ago.

She looked at him directly. "I think you'll do fine, if you just keep talking to her. She's very lucky to have you, very lucky, and she knows that." She sighed, weary with walking and talking and thinking. "You can talk to me again if you have troubles, and Maggie too of course. I'll always be nearby. But for now, I need to sleep. Wake up Joe there and I'll take him with me."

Cotton smiled and moved over to the cart to do as he was bidden. They looked done in, all three of them, and he knew that he would never be able to repay Jenny and Joe for looking after Maggie for him, and helping her come up with the column tonight.

Joe roused enough for Cotton to explain what was going on and to acquiesce to it, allowing Cotton to scramble back up into the wagon.

"Thank you, Jenny," he said. "Thanks for... for everythin'."

She nodded sleepily, hooking her arm in Newbury's. "Good night, Cotton."

"Good night, Jenny."

Maggie's shawl had slipped a little and he re-adjusted it around her, tucking it in, before wrapping himself in his blanket. He wasn't sure whether she would want him to sit next to her, or not. He decided to risk having her hit him when she was waking up, and sat next to her, carefully pulling her head to rest on his shoulder. He didn't slip his arm around her, though, thinking that might panic her unnecessarily when in the half-awake stage of waking.