Beast and Beatrice

Chapter Twenty- Gilbert

  Gilbert stepped out of the ruined church with every intention of finding Beatrice and the children. He was filthy and exhausted but there was a warm sense of accomplishment bubbling inside his chest. He had faced down his fear and saved a life. The fact that it was the unpleasant Narwhal he rescued, well that was even better. The pompous old windbag would be feasting on crow for a long time to come.

  After that scream, he hadn't even paused to consider what he was doing. There was no time for fear, no time to think. A life hung in the balance. Before he realized it, he had simply raced right into that smoldering rubble. It had taken several long moments of searching but, with Sumter's help, he located the victim. A man trapped underneath a pile of smoldering debris. They hadn't even realized who at first. Just another human being in a desperate situation.

They had set right to work, shifting endless charred beams and blackened boards until they finally found him. Both of them were surprised to discover it was Narwhal. The portly merchant was unconscious but alive. He had several burns, cuts and scrapes but, other than the egg-sized lump on his forehead, the man seemed unharmed.   What exactly he was doing in that burned-out building when the rest of the villagers had evacuated the town, Gilbert didn't know and couldn't care less. He had no interest in the shopkeepers' motives.

  Working together, they managed to dig him out from under the wreckage of that collapsed building. It was decided that Gilbert would carry the wretch. He was far to bloated for two men to safely ferry through all the scattered debris, and Gilbert was the only man capable of supporting the portly merchant's mass. After carting his fat carcass through the mass of smoke and debris and depositing Narwhal into the care of the priest, he put the blustery merchant out of his mind.

  Gilbert was more than ready to return to Beatrice and the children. He was looking forward to embracing them all, hearing their happy voices and seeing their smiling faces. A huge yawn caught him unawares. He really needed to lay down somewhere and rest, but he was determined to find them all first, just to reassure himself of their well-being. No sooner had he emerged from the shadows, than he caught sight of Beatrice surrounded by all three children. He almost sighed in relief. They were safe and unharmed.

  Beatrice looked as exhausted as he was. He didn't see any new injuries although she was coated in soot and grime. Her pretty bonnet was missing and so was her skirt. She wasn't even wearing any petticoats. She stood there in just her blue-gray blouse top and linen bloomers.  He thought of the soaked cloth that had been passed through the line of men. More than one fellow had been grateful to have such an effective weapon to beat back the flames. He hadn't even thought to ask where the cloth came from. He glanced around and noticed a few other women without skirts. So that was how the women had managed it. How brave and resourceful they were to think of such an ingenious solution.

  As he hurried toward the little group, he met Beatrice's gaze with a smile which she seemed to return. But then her eyes rolled back in her head and she sagged into unconsciousness. Gilbert raced forward, the smile on his lips dying as he attempted to catch Beatrice before she landed on her face. But he needn't have worried.

  Teddy, who still had his arms around his aunt, managed to support her slight weight as she slumped against his chest. The boy was surprisingly strong for his size but it was obvious he was straining under the unexpected burden. Gilbert arrived in time to relieve the lad of her weight and hastily scooped Beatrice up into his arms.

"What's wrong with Aunt Bea?" Felicia asked, frowning in concern.

"Is she sick?" Martine piped.

  Gilbert shook his head negatively hoping he was being truthful. He prayed Beatrice wasn't having a relapse. She wasn't that long out of the sick bed herself. If he was tired, she must be doubly so. He laid a hand against her forehead and felt some relief. At least she didn't feel excessively warm, although her clothes were soaked.