Chapter Thirteen #2
Maeve’s blood turned to ice at the sound of hooves.
It sounded like too many to belong to anything friendly.
Another shot rang out, and Jed sprang toward Maeve, his arms enveloping her and Lila as he spun her around and started for the bedroom.
She nearly tripped trying to keep up with him, and she let out a startled cry as he swooped her up completely into his embrace.
Jed swiftly kicked open her father’s bedroom door, setting Maeve down in the corner before moving to the bed and throwing the mattress off with ease.
He then heaved the frame up onto its side and shoved it across the room, creating a barricade of sorts for Maeve and Lila to hide beneath.
Through the gaps, she could just make out Jed tearing the wardrobe open and grabbing the rifle before storming back through the doorway.
“J-Jed–!”
“Keep her safe, Maeve!”
Jed slammed the door shut behind him, and Lila began to scream even louder.
It only got worse as glass smashed somewhere in the house, followed by a seemingly endless volley of shots.
Maeve cradled Lila in her arms, covering the poor girl’s ears as she curled tightly in on herself.
Keep her safe. She had to keep her safe.
It was the one thing he' asked, the one thing he was willing to risk his life for. Maeve was going to keep Lila safe.
Time crawled to a standstill, occasionally thrown forward by another volley of gunfire. Maeve wasn’t sure if it would ever come to an end. Slowly, however, the shouts and cries of the raiders outside grew faint. The gunfire slowed, then stopped altogether.
Then came a knock on the door.
Maeve craned her neck, still holding onto Lila for dear life. She wished she’d taught Jed the all-clear knock she and her friends shared.
‘Friends. I…I still think of him as a friend?
Even after their fight, even if she didn’t think she deserved it...
Maeve still thought of Jed as a friend. As someone she desperately wanted to be on good terms with again.
She pushed the thought aside for the time being, carefully disentangling herself from the sobbing mess that was Lila.
The toddler clung desperately to Maeve’s dress, and suddenly Jed’s words made all the more sense to her.
One of the worst things possible had happened to them: bandits had finally come to their doorstep.
And Lila’d had to live through it. Tears sprang into Maeve’s eyes as she pushed the bed frame aside and gathered Lila tightly into her arms before moving to the door.
The door that wasn’t even locked.
Maeve sucked in a breath and tightened her hold on Lila. As she finally opened the door, Jed immediately pulled her and Lila in for a tight hug, just as he had when the bulls had run wild.
‘Were he just as terrified then as he’s gotta be now…?’
Something wet seeped through the back of Maeve’s dress, and as Jed finally managed to pull away, she caught sight of the scrapes and cuts running the length of his arm. It looked as if he’d punched out a window, with bits of glass still imbedded in the skin.
“J-Jed–!” Immediately, Maeve moved to set Lila down, only for Jed to pick her up and set her on his hip, his good arm supporting her back.
Maeve stared for a moment. Then she hurried to the wardrobe, digging through the layers of clothing inside until she managed to pull out a small basket of first aid supplies. “Uh…” she gestured weakly toward the overturned mattress.
Jed started over, bouncing Lila gently against his side as she continued to wail.
Once he’d sat down awkwardly, Maeve did her best to work quickly, starting with cutting Jed’s sleeve apart.
No amount of sewing know-how would save it, and bits of glass were sticking out of the larger cuts on his arm.
Maeve carefully plucked the pieces free.
Jed made no indication of feeling any pain, but Maeve still couldn’t help but grimace as she worked.
Lila continued crying.
She wished she could do something more. Maybe snap her fingers and cure Jed’s injuries so she could take Lila from him and calm her down.
An overwhelming panic soon took hold of Maeve, making it difficult for her to take a full breath.
Was this what Jed was trying to tell her earlier?
If it was, she agreed; they absolutely were not ready to raise a child.
Lila’s best chance at life was at the orphanage, with a family far better off than they were.
Maeve could hardly keep her own marriage together, after all.
She finished picking the glass out, then set about applying poultice to the worst-looking wounds.
She wasn’t sure when she’d started to cry, but Maeve became aware of how wet her cheeks suddenly were.
She blinked furiously, trying to clear her sight so she wouldn’t make a mistake. So she wouldn't make any more mistakes.
Lila kept screaming.
Maeve’s head began to throb.
And Jed…Jed started to sing.
Maeve almost didn’t believe it at first. She thought she was hearing things, going as far as to stop bandaging Jed’s arm so she could focus on the sound.
It started out softly–almost inaudibly, over Lila’s crying–but it soon began to build in volume, shifting from a deep-throated hum to a rumbling ‘oo’.
Jed never added any proper words to the melody, only vowels that he stretched and played with to try and catch Lila’s attention.
And catch Lila’s attention he did.
Her terrified screams softened to panicked whimpers, then settled into wobbling hiccups.
She stared at Jed with red-rimmed eyes, her cheeks puffy and flushed bright pink.
As soon as Maeve tied off the last of the bandages, she moved to wipe the toddler’s face gently with her sleeve.
Lila, in turn, quickly rubbed her face, making a sour expression at Maeve.
She couldn't help but laugh. She couldn’t help but cry some more.
She couldn’t help but stare at Jed as he hummed his made-up tune. And when he thought Lila had thoroughly calmed down, he found Maeve’s gaze with a soft expression. The wilted green of his eyes had refreshed somewhat, and Maeve wondered briefly if he’d teared up himself.
He opened his mouth. Hesitated. Then he committed to saying, “You gotta tell me what that chant was now.”
Maeve couldn’t help but laugh. She couldn’t help but cry even harder. And she sat there on the mattress of her late father’s bed, sobbing hysterically for what felt like an age.