Secrets and Sins

2. Easier said than done

~Beatrice~

The quickest way back to town was also the steepest.

Adrenaline was already flooding her veins, and she tried to harness it, using it to help her focus as she picked her way down the much more tree root laden trail. She was moving as swiftly as she could without jostling Ava. It was easier said than done.

Protectively holding the unconscious Ava to her chest, Beatrice struggled down yet another sharp decline only to slip as her sneaker skidded on the loose gravel. She fell to one knee, grazing it badly. With a hiss of pain, Beatrice stood back up, hot blood trickling down her shin, and continued on.

Every second wasted was time Ava didn't have.

She clenched her jaw at the destabilizing thought, reassuring herself at the feeling of weak but steady puffs of breath against her collarbone. Ava was still breathing, she was warm and heavy and, most definitely, alive in Beatrice's arms.

After what seemed like hours, Beatrice stumbled out of the trees at the entrance of the trail. She was a lot worse for wear now. Thin scratches crisscrossed her bare forearms, the rolled-up sleeves giving no protection from branches as she bush-bashed her way through overgrown parts of the trail. Then there were her legs, bruises mottling the skin from numerous stumbles. None of it mattered though, not if it meant Ava was still breathing.

Beatrice's gaze landed on a small cottage nestled right against the edge of the woods. It was like something out of a storybook. Ivy-like vines climbed one side of the stone structure, and a small red brick chimney rose from the shingled roof. Not that Beatrice was really paying attention to the appearance of the cottage, her eyes were immediately drawn to the rusty blue pickup truck parked in the driveway.

"Dear God, please let someone be home." She prayed, voice cracking with desperation.

Racing towards the front of the house as fast as she could manage, Beatrice, with both hands full, pounded the toe of her sneaker against the darkly stained oak door.

"Hello, is someone there? I need help. Please?" She shouted, hoping someone, anyone might hear her.

There was a long moment where nothing happened and Beatrice was starting to panic, she could feel the seconds trickling by, Ava's life trickling away.

The door banged open.

"Whaddayou want?"

A gruff elderly woman stood in the doorway, her face changing from annoyance to surprise to concern as she surveyed the disheveled Beatrice and blood drenched Ava.

"I'll call an ambulance. Get her inside. Quickly." The old woman ordered, spinning on heel and marching into the house.

Beatrice hesitated only for a moment before entering.

"Put her on the table". The old woman said, pointing to her dining room, before disappearing further into the house.

Beatrice laid Ava down as gently as she could before pulling up a chair beside her. Adrenaline was still pounding its way through her body, numbing everything else. She took Ava's hand in her own, stroking gentle patterns across the back of it with her thumbs and looked around the room.

The dining room was small and quaint. Photos of family members lined the top of a short bookshelf that ran the length of the wall opposite her.

After a few minutes, the old woman returned.

"Ambulance is on its way. Hopefully she can hang in there." The concern was evident on her face. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Beatrice answered as truthfully as she could. "I just found her bleeding on the trail."