Every Rose Has a Thorn (The Patriot Romance story)

Chapter 3

"Get up." Colonel Tavington says, Clara Looks up at the man with a pained expression on her face, he reads her emotions, she was tired, exhausted from the long, hot, journey.

"I can't..." She whimpered, still kneeling on the ground. The man dismounts his horse and stands above her.

"Get. Up. Now." He growled, looking at the torn bandages wrapped around her feet, feeling no remorse for her.

"I can't." She repeated, her voice breaking.

"You can and you will." He snaps, his patience running low with this weak little child.

The eighteen-year-old slowly pulled herself up, not wanting any punishment from the intimidating man. She stood on her two feet, her legs wobbling, she tried not to fall but the shooting pain that she felt was too much. She tried to walk towards the soldier but collapsed, Tavington caught her in his arms, rolling his eyes.

"Good lord, pathetic," He muttered, she looked up at the man, tears running down her cheek, "Alright, fine." He picked her up bridal style and carried her to the medical tent.

"Girl needs help," He lays her down on a cot, "Bring me in when you're done." The doctor nods and walks over to the girl who was now in the fetal position, holding her stomach, hugging her body tight.

"Let's see the damage," He says and looks at her feet, "My God, that must hurt, you're lucky none of that is infected."

Clara nods her head, "I guess."

"Here, drink this. You look parched." The doctor hands her a glass of water, she takes it and drinks it down quickly. The old man chuckles and cleans her wounds, making her bite her lip in pain, he sighs.

"What's your name, love?"

"Clara." She replied in a quiet voice, the doctor smiled and continued to clean her wounds, making sure the new bandages would stay on for a long time.

"Very lovely name," He said as he looked at his work, proud of it, "I'll go get the Colonel, stay right here love."

She looked down at her damaged feet, visions of her father and siblings crying and in pain filling her thoughts and mind. Soon Colonel Tavington and the doctor walk back into the tent, Clara avoids eye contact with the heartless spawn of satan. Tavington walks up to the girl and looks down at her.

"How do you feel?"

"I-"

"Nevermind," He frowns, "I don't bother."

Clara looks down at her lap, the Colonel helps her up and brings her to his rather large tent, she spots an extra cot, pillow, and blanket. Plus, extra clothes were in the corner for her.

"You're staying with me so I can keep an eye on you." Tavington says, laying her down on the small pad, he stands up and heads to the entrance of the tent, "Get changed, I'll be back."

Clara nods her head and grabs a nightgown from the corner and puts it on, her hair wasn't dirty since she took a shower the night before all of this happened. William Tavington comes back and looks down at her before taking off his clothes and getting undressed, she blushes at his muscular back, his long dark hair released from his ponytail. He puts on a loose blouse and lights a candle before getting under the covers of his blankets, Clara stays up a while and looks at her feet which were still hurting but they felt better more or less.

"Sleep." The Colonel says in a gruff, low voice. Clara flinches at his voice before laying down, the man's back facing her. She sighed and hummed herself to sleep, imagining she was at home, safe and sound.