Chapter Sixteen: My Heart Will Go On

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CHAPTER SONG: "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion

The sun continued its descent beneath the horizon, the calm French terrain daring to lull Emmy into another fitful state of sleep. She sat upon the hard bench in the back of the ambulance, shielded from any enemies' sight. The rocking motion of the wheels underneath her threatened to throw her forward to the wooden floor of the vehicle.

"Are you alright back there, Ms. Hunterson?" The concerned voice of Lt. Joseph Blake emerged from the cab, the small window on the barrier separating them giving her only a small beam of shine courtesy of the headlights.

"Yes, Joe." She used the shortened version of his name, similar to how she would call Will. "I'm fine."

She attempted to keep her voice with a confident tone, but part of her knew that it was mostly pointless to pretend everything was okay.

She was more or less trapped in an era that was not her own and depending on the protection of strangers. And she had given her heart to the most noble of them!

As far her future past self she had been back to the crucial night in London was concerned, she might as well have been insane, a completely different person than she had been before meeting Lance Corporals Thomas Blake and William Schofield.

A cheerful Irish accented voice broke Emmy away from the pensive thoughts.

"Let us know if you need to stretch your legs. From what I can tell, we've been drivin' for an hour. It's gettin' darker out here." Private Seymour, who was driving the ambulance with Lt. Blake in the passenger seat, informed her in an assuring tone. Then, something changed in his voice when he next spoke in a low whisper, as though he didn't want her to hear what he was saying. "Lieutenant, you think we're a hot target for snipers out here?"

There was a long pause as Emmanuelle stiffened on the bench, her neck arched as her ears focused intently on hearing what Joseph's response would be.

"If we run into any Hun stragglers, we'll deal with them. Just remember why we're here, Private." Lt. Blake's tone of voice was also hushed, but firm, no inflection of falsehood to be heard. "We have a duty to the lady in this vehicle and a promise to keep for Corporal Schofield."

"Ya know, I saw you around her in the camp. Her Prince Charmin' must really trust you if he's lettin' ya carry her outta the med tent and to the ambulance instead o' him. Most soldiers would give ya a good strikin' to the face if he caught ya makin' eyes at his girl." Pvt. Seymour chuckled in a good natured way.

Emmy wrapped her arms around herself, a shiver racking her spine as she carefully stood upon the rumbling floor of the ambulances, grateful for the thick boots on her feet however slightly larger they were for her feet. Normally, she wouldn't appreciate the notion of men talking about her like she wasn't only just nearby, only just earlier that day having reprimanded Colonel MacKenzie for doing the same to her.

"I'm not dignifying that with a response, Private." Lt. Blake grumbled in a stoic manner, signaling the end of that conversation. "And we oughta be wise not to discuss Ms. Hunterson as though she wasn't even here. She gave Col. MacKenzie a tongue lashing earlier today you wouldn't wanna be on the receiving end of."

The tired older soldier, however grief stricken and overwhelmed he was after the shattering events of today, felt a slight smile upon his face at the memory of her standing up to the Colonel and saying what was on her mind.

If his little brother Tom had to spend his last hours alive, he was grateful that it was around Corporal Schofield and Emmanuelle Hunterson, two decent people to keep an eye on him.

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