CHAPTER SONG: "Evermore" by Josh Groban, Dan Stevens (from Disney's 2017 remake of Beauty and the Beast"
Emmanuelle felt multiple eyes on her as Lt. Joseph Blake carried her outside, the cooling breeze fanning her face. Being the only woman present in a male dominated camp should have made her feel meek and intimidated, but she had been through so much worse in the last day and a half than being ogled by strange men.
She had to rely on them for protection, after all.
Thankfully, most of the men had retreated to their tents with the sun setting in the horizon, so she was spared the annoyance of the less than chivalrous selection of soldiers whistling at her.
Being in Lt. Blake's arms was definitely different than when Schofield had been holding her, but she knew it was unfair to compare the two men. He was undoubtedly gentle while gripping onto her, not too tightly to be mindful of her bruising. Emmy gathered the sensation in her gut that she was a mission taken upon by the Lieutenant to repent for his younger brother dying.
Lt. Blake's strides to the truck were steady and she could hear the shaking of his breathing as he inhaled, his eyes staring straight ahead and avoiding looking at her. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, the anxiety battling within him for the task that lay ahead.
She glanced behind Lt. Blake's shoulder to see Schofield following close behind, a brown cloth pack filled with her supplies over his shoulder.
Emmy turned to head back in front of her to see Colonel MacKenzie and Major Hepburn standing on both sides of the ambulance. Both men's eyes slightly widened at the sight of her in Lt. Blake's arms, yet their faces remained stoic, Col. MacKenzie's sharp eyes meeting hers.
Feeling self-conscious, the next words out of her mouth sounded more demanding than she intended. "Joseph, please put me down. Now!"
"What's the matter? Did I hurt you, Miss Hunterson?" Lt. Blake asked her in a hurried yet concerned manner, setting her back down onto her feet.
"Emmy, what's wrong?" Schofield asked at the same time as Blake, setting down the pack and going to her side.
Lt. Blake's hands went to her shoulders, insuring she was balanced on the ground before removing them. Schofield held her then by the waist, his hands careful of the discoloration decorating her skin under her thin shirt.
"I...I'm not in pain, Will. I...I just wanted to walk myself to the truck like a normal woman should be able to. I've been carried around enough as it is for the past twenty four hours. None of you should be sparing a medical vehicle for me, let alone risking yourselves for my safety."
She could feel the Colonel and Major's confused gazes in her direction, but she could only focus on Schofield as he pulled her to him. His arms taking one last embrace before parting... Her own arms encircled his waist, her fingers curling into his uniformed back.
Schofield softly kissed the top of her head, blinking away tears from his eyes.
"Had you not pulled me from that river, I would've drowned and not been able to give the message to save all those men. Nor to inform Joe about Tom..." He ceased speaking as his voice cracked with long repressed emotion. Schofield refrained from succumbing to the grief again, especially in front of superior officers. And he hadn't dared alarm Emmanuelle by displaying such weakness in her presence.
"Miss Hunterson, no more of this." Colonel Mackenzie approached the woman standing in the Lance Corporal's arms. "The sun's nearly set. You need to get moving."
The wearied colonel took hold of Emmy by the elbow, attempting to pull her away from Schofield. Her feet were planted on the ground in spite of her injured leg. Her soldier's arms unwound from around her.
"Colonel MacKenzie, at least let us say goodbye, please." She grabbed the officer's wrist so he would release her arm. She noticed that even he was careful not to grip onto her too tightly. Schofield tensed up at the sight of the colonel himself laying a hand upon her, but waited to see what would happen. He couldn't take any action against a commanding officer without it being insubordination, but he would use his words.
"Sir, please bear in mind her injuries. They're still healing." He attempted to appeal to the Colonel, aiming to remind him that she needn't be pulled away like a stubborn child. He stood to the side, his eyes flitting between both of them, preparing to defend Emmy should she need the interference. Lt. Blake flanked their other side, his own eyes watching the Colonel's body language should he imply any intention to threaten the young woman.
Surely, the colonel would not dare harm a lady barely able to walk being so hurt?
"If you drag me to that car kicking and screaming, you don't deserve the loyalty of all those men who died this morning under your order." She heard both Schofield and Lt. Blake gasp startled breaths at her words. "And what you said about me being left for the Germans to find... You don't know me or anything about what I've been through to get here. I have blood my hands the same as all the men in this camp. I've been shot at, strangled, and killed a German with a bayonet to protect the man I love."
All the men around her stayed silent at her words. Schofield placed his hand upon her shoulder as MacKenzie released her arm, both of them never looking away from Emmy.
She shrugged off his hand and she gingerly pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing her marked throat. Schofield winced at the sight even though he'd seen it multiple times throughout the previous hours. Mackenzie's eyes locked on the fingerprints patterned on the delicate skin of her neck, yellow and purple in various stages of fading.
"This is what happened the last time a man treated me with no humanity whatsoever. If you really deserve the title of 'Colonel', then you will allow for William to say goodbye to me."
MacKenzie met her unwavering eyes again, a foreign sensation flowing through his veins, a melting of the iciness that had hardened him through the last three years of bloodshed and the unshakable burden of signing condolence letters to families.
Something in her eyes told MacKenzie that she fit the mould flawlessly amongst the ladies who had lost their men-folk to this accused war. Not to mention her American accent gave him an uneasy feeling of suspicion.
Odds being that they were, he deduced that they were likely to never cross paths again, so there was no point in his thinking about her again after today. He had other pressing matters to concern himself with.
He saw Schofield flinch an inch or two toward him, as though he were tempted to step in front of Emmanuelle and break their contact. Major Hepburn walked up behind the Colonel as Lt. Blake slowly walked away from Schofield's side to gather up her supply pack.
"I don't wish any harm on you, Miss Hunterson." He placed two of his long fingers underneath her chin, his eyes softening as he looked down at this outspoken, courageous adventuress. "But if we're to make that a guarantee, I strongly suggest you get into the ambulance. And then, Corporal Schofield may bid you farewell."
Emmy looked away from the Colonel, seeing the Lieutenant place her pack into the back of the ambulance.
He removed his fingers from under her chin, and then took ahold of her hand. His grip was firm, but still contained a hint of that care she was becoming accustomed to while in the presence of these men.
MacKenzie led her to the back of the ambulance; she used her uninjured foot to pull herself onto the metal steps to climb inside, the Colonel's grip supporting her balance. She managed to seat herself on one of the benches to the side.
"Sir, certainly the lady would be more comfortable in the front seat?" Major Hepburn spoke up, concerned for her as well.
"No, this would be fine. It'll be best that I stay out of sight in case we run into trouble." Emmy answered him.
"She's right, Colonel." Lt. Blake vouched for her. "There's the possibility of running into German stragglers out in the open fields. But don't worry, Emmanuelle. They won't get near you."
"Colonel Mackenzie, may I please have a moment alone with her?" Schofield approached the other three soldiers, his voice strong as his eyes met that of Emmy's.
"Yes, Corporal. But make it fast. We need to fetch Private Seymour, he'll be assisting Lt. Blake in escorting her." MacKenzie informed the younger soldier, his voice carrying a slight pitch of sympathy amongst the authority in his tone.
"Thank you, Colonel." Emmy thanked him for both herself and Schofield before the three other officers walked away. Lt. Blake went to the tent to make sure nothing was left behind while the Major and Colonel went to bring this Private whom she had no memory of. "William, who's Private Seymour?"
Schofield reached up into the ambulance to hold her hands in his, the tenderness in his grip making her want to sob. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to each set of his fingers.
"When you were sick...and I carried you through the woods after the river... there were soldiers sitting around the trees, and listening to a song...while they were waiting to be sent to die. I fell to the ground with you in my arms...and a few of them came to me and saw you." He paused, his face paling at the still vivid memory of being helpless to save her...
She removed one of her hands from his and stroked his cheek to comfort him, silently prompting her soldier to continue talking.
"I begged for someone to get you to a surgeon, and one of the Privates volunteered to take you to the triage area, where Lt. Blake found you later this morning." His hand reached to where hers was still resting upon his cheekbone. Schofield pulled her hand away gently by the wrist and kissed the beating pulse underneath her skin. "Private Vincent Seymour gathered you up from my arms, even though I didn't want to let you out of my sight. He's the one who carried you to the triage tent where we met Lt. Blake this morning."
"If...if anything happens to them tonight... I don't know if I can live with myself, Will." The tears welled up in her eyes, the guilt of the situation eating away at her. "There's nothing in it for these men to take me there. They don't know me or where I've come from."
"It doesn't matter, my love. Where you've been or what you've done." He continued holding her hand with his while using the other to reach for the St. Christopher dangling from her neck. His thumb ran over the cold bronze face of the medallion, his fingers lightly brushing against the flesh of her bosom exposed from her loose cotton shirt.
Emmy took both of her hands and clasped them onto Schofield's to keep his hand against her chest near where her heart was beating. She blinked away her tears, not wanting to be a blubbering mess in their final moments together until he was free on leave.
"That's what part of being a soldier is, Emmanuelle." He gently pulled her down to be better within his reach while she still remained in the truck, where she was on her knees on the ambulance's hard floor. "It's risking our lives to keep innocent people safe. And these men still alive in this camp owe you their lives, though most of them know it not."
"Move out in five minutes!" Lt. Blake's voice shouted from behind them. He emerged from Emmy's tent, a rifle strung over his shoulder. Schofield recognized the look of determination on his face, so similar to that of Tom's, and the way his eyes softened as he met those of the woman being left under his watch. "Miss Emmanuelle, we'll be on our way in a few moments. If it suits you, I'll accompany you in the back so you won't be isolated for the whole journey."
Lt. Blake then met eyes with Schofield as Colonel Mackenzie, Major Hepburn and Private Seymour approached them.
The young Lance Corporal turned away from Emmy as Lt. Blake stood by him to greet the three other officers.
"Private Seymour, sir!" The eager eyed ginger soldier saluted the Lieutenant. A jolt of recollection raked Emmy's spine as she heard the private's voice, the foggy memories floating through her mind in a whispered echo. He additionally had a bayoneted rifle strapped over his shoulder.
"He's not one of ours. The girl's white as a ghost..."
Those moments she had been sinking and floating in and out of consciousness, smothered by illness and exhaustion, Emmy remembered the feeling of being lifted up away from her Schofield and carried off into the woods by stranger... she had blacked out again before she could have a look at the soldier's face who had taken her out of the woods, not awakening again until Lt. Blake had found her in the medical tent.
"I'll pick her up and take her to the casualty station."
The sound of Private Seymour's voice broke Emmy out of her recalling of earlier that morning, which felt like days or even weeks ago.
"Sleeping beauty is awakened, no doubt by her Prince Charming here." His soft brown eyes met hers, pleasant realization flowing through Emmy's veins. Immediately she felt that familiar sibling-like connection she had experienced with Thomas Blake, though not quite as powerful. Emmy also detected a hint of an Irish lilt to his voice, although he gave a completely English originated vibe.
Private Seymour stood before Schofield as Col. Mackenize and Major Hepburn looked on from some feet. The colonel's steel-eyed gaze went to her before he nodded his head in respectful acknowledgement to her, not needing words to convey that no hard feelings lay between them.
Major Hepburn smiled a polite grin in spite of the worry evident in his eyes. No doubt he was wishing for her safety out in the open fields of this country headed to damnation with each passing day.
She waved a silent farewell to the two superior officers, not able to think of a verbal response towards them. Emmy knew in a way that she had over-stepped some boundaries when confronting Mackenzie, but she had to show herself not as weak as she appeared when being the only woman in this encampment.
She was grateful that Schofield hadn't shown embarrassment with her behavior when it was quite the opposite. With each fleeting hour, she gained more confidence in his love for her in spite of the impossible circumstances that led to their meeting.
Private Seymour stood before Lt. Blake and Schofield, the Lance Corporal reaching out his hand to him. Their hands met in a handshake of polite gratitude. "I can't thank you enough, Private; for getting Miss Hunterson to safety this morning and volunteering to take her to the hospital."
"It's no trouble at all, Corp. I'm glad to see you're up and about as well." Pvt. Seymour smiled with a slightly tired grin to Schofield before focusing on Lt. Blake, standing to attention. "Which one of us will be driving, sir? We might need two of us in the cab to keep watch."
Emmy spoke up then, recalling that Lt. Blake had said he'd stay in the back with her.
"Joseph, he may be right. You both should stay up front so someone keeps an eye out for danger. We'll be driving at night anyway." Her voice made all three men turn to look at her in silent wonder. Schofield glanced to the side as the other two soldiers only stared in momentary bewilderment at how she talked in such a matter of fact manner.
It was going to be agony for him to be apart from her...but he knew he had to stay true to his battalion.
"She's pretty and smart." Seymour went to Emmy, lifting up his dirtied trench helmet off his head in a way similar to a gentleman greeting a higher bred lady. "Can't say I'd blame Corp. Schofield for wanting to keep you safe, Ms. Hunterson."
"Thank you, Private." She held out her own hand to shake his. The private took it into his own calloused palm. He bowed his head slightly to her. "You can call me Emmy, short for Emmanuelle."
"Don't you worry about a thing, Miss Emmy. We'll get you outta this hell-hole." He gave her hand a comforting squeeze that reminded her painfully of how Thomas Blake had first comforted her upon awakening at the farmhouse.
He smiled at her with a glint of slight worry in his eyes before turning away and going to the front of the truck to climb into the driver's seat.
She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that desired to escape her eyes. There would be time to cry when the truck started moving and the encampment was out of her vision.
Tom's soft voice floated in her head, setting her mind at temporary ease. For a millisecond, she even she felt his arms around her.
It'll be alright, Emmy. This is how it's meant to be. And don't lose faith in Scho or Joe.
"It's time to go, Emmanuelle." Lt. Blake's voice broke away her reverie. "Your bag is right there and there's a sliding slot at the front where you can let us know if you need anything."
She felt choked up, not finding the words to say to the elder Blake brother. She could only nod, a hiccup escaping her throat.
"You'll be safe, I give you my word, as both an Englishman and a soldier." He reached up to place a hand on her shoulder. "I swear on my brother..."
He stopped himself from saying anything further, turning his head away so she wouldn't see him repress the urge to cry. Emmy wanted to embrace him, to make his sadness go away, but they didn't have time anymore to dwell on emotional turmoil.
Lt. Blake walked away out of her sight before she could reach out for an embrace to soothe him.
She heard the passenger side door on the ambulance open and close at the front as Schofield went to stand before her again. His large hands reached up to cradle her face, the gentle touch of them causing Emmy to shut her eyes in momentary bliss.
"Emmanuelle...I..." Schofield started to say, his voice cracking. Emmy placed her fingers to his lips to silence him.
"William, I... if something happens... will you remember me?" She reached out and ran her fingers through the brown hair atop his head.
"None of that, angel." The word exited his mouth, a term he hadn't used in reference to anyone before until now. "When the sun rises tomorrow, you'll be in a warm hospital bed with proper meals to eat and time to heal from your injuries. And I've no intention of forgetting you, ever."
"I'll write to you, let you know where I am...if you still plan to come for me when you're free." She lifted up his bandaged hand, placed a soft kiss to his fingers.
He continued to caress her cheek with his free hand, his thumb lightly tapping the tip of her nose. He leaned up and pressed his lips to hers in a long kiss, one of passion and the dread of parting from one another.
The breath left Emmy's lungs as Schofield's un-bandaged hand lightly brushed away a strand of her mahogany hair away from her face.
Their faces separated as a smile crossed the Lance Corporal's mouth, however brief it was; this consuming sensation of happiness at kissing her. This sample of heaven from her touch before he descended back into this war of Hell...
"I hope that's answer enough for you." Schofield replied as the truck's engine sputtered, the backfire smoke invading his nostrils.
The sputtering continued with the engine before it finally turned over, a loud growling in their ears, but they didn't let it ruin this moment between them.
"Hell yeah, it is." She laughed, a bitter sob breaking through her voice.
"I'll write to you every chance I get. And I'll come and get you from the hospital...take you to my home in Surrey..." Schofield held her hands again in his grip, giving both of them a kiss on her small knuckles.
"My handsome knight comes to take me away to his English castle." She smiled down at him, leaving Schofield these final seconds to memorize such a lovely sight, similar to the picture of her in his tobacco tin.
"I promise, I won't abandon you to this." Schofield ached to pull her out of the ambulance and hold her fully in his arms one last time, but he knew they were out of time. "I love you, my American darling."
Emmy leaned down to kiss him again, her arms around his neck as he reached with his hands to stroke her freshly washed hair.
"And I love you, my Lance Corporal." She murmured, her forehead pressed to his as the ambulance began to rumble underneath her. "The hero of my heart."
Schofield nuzzled her shoulder, relishing the feel of her in his embrace. His lips brushed her neck. His soft voice purred in her ear. "You're so beautiful, Emmanuelle Hunterson."
They pulled away, Schofield stepping up to push up the metal barrier so she would be secure inside.
No more words were exchanged aloud between them. The truck shifted and began to pull away. Schofield stepped back as the stars began to shine in the darkening sky overhead.
The vehicle drove away from him and into the evergreen fields of the Flanders countryside. His eyes never left her form as she sat in the back of the ambulance, growing ever smaller in his line of sight.
He held back his own tears of melancholy of her leaving him, but he could live with it so long as she was away from the dangers he had to face for the last three years.
The ambulance drove further into the field and into the unknown twilight with the woman William Schofield had chosen to cherish with everything he had. He knew for certain as the vehicle faded away that he held no regret in regards to her.
Every second of fear, pain and misery endured while they had been together was worth winning the treasure of her affection, let alone her saving his life when he was ready to give up.
He had no idea what the next day, let alone the next two weeks until he was free, would be in store for him. But he was willing to have a gun held to his head by the Kaiser himself if it meant Emmy was safe.
Schofield tore his reddening eyes away from the ambulance centered in the dark orange horizon as the words from General Erinmore rang in his head.
Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne; he travels the fastest who travels alone.