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27. of the utmost importance

Anne wasted no time in moving Gilbert.

She wrapped her arms around his body, hooking them under his armpits and heaving him slowly across the ground. She had to get him to a bed, or something comfortable. She was still shaking, which made it hard to move the surprisingly heavy boy. Gilbert was lean and slim which made it strange to Anne that he weighed so much. She decided it must be the muscle he'd put on working all year on the steamer.

Anne kept looking down at the boy and his dark violet bruises and her heart ached with guilt and anger. How could Joseph do this? She knew he was cruel and insane but she couldn't even imagine being able to cause harm to another human, unless it was in self-defence. She felt so much responsibility for this attack.

Joseph would never have hurt Gilbert if it wasn't for her.

Anne finally reached the porch steps and dragged him one step at a time up. On the top step she stumbled and fell onto her back, Gilbert's head resting on her lap. He didn't even stir. She sat up and sighed, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached from the extertion and her wound still greatly pained her. Anne pushed her red hair out of her face. Anne forced herself to stand again and lifted Gilbert.

She dragged him across the porch to the front door, which she pushed until it came open. Anne was gasping now, her whole body begging for rest. She had to get Gilbert somewhere to lay, she couldn't think about herself. Anne didn't know where Gilbert's room was but as she entered the house into the dark kitchen she saw a bedroom to her left. That would have to do.

The room had a strangely unlived-in air to it, as though it had been lying dorment for some time. It was clean and well-kept but she could tell that nobody came in here besides to polish and dust. Anne wondered who's room it was. She heaved Gilbert up onto the bed, tripped on a floorboard and fell on top of him.

She looked up at his handsome face, felt his hard chest underneath her and his heartbeat soft against her hammering one. Anne caught her breath. She quickly pushed herself up and off of him, flushing bright red despite nobody being there to see it. She felt embarrassed for making such a fool of herself, even if she was the only witness. She also felt embarrassed for how loudly her heart was beating, and it wasn't from exhaustion it was from being so close to Gilbert.

Anne shook herself. Gilbert was just a friend. She was being silly.

Anne pulled the curtains closed, the fear that Joseph was still here present in her mind. She locked the front door and found a flannel in the kitchen. She doused it in a basin of cold water and took it to Gilbert, wrapping it around the bruised area and compressing it. Hopefully it would help with the bruising, but Anne had never seen anything so bad. He'd have to get proper help when they were both up to moving.

She gazed down at the boy and her heart dropped with remorse. She should have gone straight to Gilbert's farm, then perhaps she'd have been able to stop Joseph. Anne felt a lump in her throat and she let the tears come. She was tired of being strong constantly and never letting herself be vulnerable. She was so afraid all of the time and it was exhausting.

Anne sat in the dark room, sobbing quietly as she nursed Gilbert best she could.

...

It seemed like a long time before Gilbert finally woke up.

Anne had almost cried herself to sleep and was leaning on the bed beside him, her head against his side. Her hand was still on his neck, her fingers loosely holding the wet flannel. She had been listening to his ragged breathing and steady heartbeat and it had comforted her. Her eyes lay closed, her breath slightly uneven from crying.