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Elizabeth ran from the woods like the hounds of hell were after her. Her breath came in sharp painful gasps, and she doubled over from a side cramp. Luckily, the soldiers around her were too engrossed in their work to pay any mind to the petite blonde who burst into the clearing.

Grasping blindly for something to steady her, she grabbed hold of an old oak and forced herself upright. She leaned her shoulder into the solid comfort of the tree and slowly slid down until she was sitting on the ground. Elizabeth wrapped her slender arms tightly around her knees and held back the bitter tears that threatened to spill out. Just days ago she had been wishing to be able to feel something, anything. Now all she wished for was the blessed numbness once more. She inhaled sharply as she saw William stride into the camp taking the path from which she had just come. Although he passed only feet from where she was sitting, the young man was lost in thought. He walked with a steady stride, his long muscular legs covering the ground quickly with little effort. The upper sleeves of his shirt were taught, where his muscles bunched with frustration. Despite the fisted hands and the slightly stooped shoulders, William held his head up high, the epitome of military training at its finest. His icy gaze swept the camp in front of him, seeing all but registering very little.

Elizabeth watched him, and immediately recognized the struggle he was facing: although emotionally drained from the inner torment, he was relying on stubborn pride to keep him going. She knew that feeling, all too well. Elizabeth mentally chastized herself for the brief moment of empathy that she had felt towards the soldier. She bit her lip angrily, and was surprised when she realized her lips were still swollen from his kisses. She shivered in an automatic response, but her eyes slowly drifted shut as she remembered the feeling of his hands skimming over her skin, thrilling her, teasing her, worshipping her.

"Damn it!" She swore softly, and shook her head to clear the images that even now still plagued her. The heat that flushed her cheeks briefly was now quickly chased away by a startlingly cool breeze. Elizabeth scanned the skyline and felt some apprehension when she saw the thunderheads growing on the horizon. The wind picked up, and swept through the woodsline, turning the leaves upside down.

Hearing the low rumble of thunder in the distance, Elizabeth stood and walked towards her tent, not wishing to get caught out in what threatened to become a serious stormfront.

Wearily, she sat on her rough cot, and began removing the wrinkled and grass-stained cotton shirt.

"Oh no you don't" came Rose's low voice from the doorway. "We've got a storm a'headin this way. Wait until its over to change yo' clothes. Right now, we got to get ourselves to work. The tents ain't rainproof, an' some of those boys have bandages that can't get wet." Rose set to picking up a few clean cloths from a pile in the corner, but stopped short at Elizabeht's soft voice.

"Rose?" She asked, and the older woman turned to look at her, hearing the familiar pain in her voice. "Do you think we'll ever heal from all this?" There was something else there though, something Rose hadn't heard before. Hope. Only a flicker, but it was still there.

The older woman smiled slightly, and paused before responding. "Someday, I s'pose we will."

Elizabeth gazed at the ground thoughtfully for a moment and then rose to her feet, following her companion out of the tent.





"I want everyone in, now!" William called to his troops. His second in command raced to his side.

"Major, a few of our men left with a group this morning. The Brigidier General sent them out on reconnaissance. There were following the river downstream."

"Thank you Bryant. When you see them tonight, ask them to report to me. For now, have everyone tie down the tents and see to the horses. Send anyone that's free towards the hospital tent." Despite the mounting tension in the camp from the growing storm, William gave commands with ease and a quiet control.

"Yes sir!" Bryant moved off in search of the other troops, while William set to work packing up gear and supplies.

As the storm grew more violent around him, he sent most of the younger men inside whil he worked with a select few to keep the tents in place. While the rain had only just begun, the wind was in full fury. Fierce gusts blew through the camp, and William threw his entire body into tightening the lashes that held the medical tents up. When at last the storm grew too intense, William waved the rest of the soldiers towards cover, and followed them.

Elizabeth had been running through the tent, helping to move soldiers away from the places where the water had begun to pour into the tent. She was in the midst of changing out wet blankets for dry ones when the last of the soldiers came racing in out of the storm. She cringed at her uncontrollable sense of relief when William entered the tent.

His soaking wet curls fell forward over his forehead, and his white cotton shirt was plastered to his upper body. When his blue eyes locked on hers, it was he who turned away sharply, but not before Elizabeth saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Before she could assess her reaction to that knowledge though, there was a commotion at the other end of the tent.

"Major! The river's flooded 'er banks, they're stuck!" Bryant cried, across the length of the tent. Elizabeth turned to look at William. The panic that flickered across her face told her all that she needed to know.

"The horses Bryant, now!" William called out. Immediately, William knew that the reconnaissance patrol was trapped, probably caught halfway across the river in a quickly dissovling piece of ground. William swore loudly, and sprinted back out into the storm from his end of the tent. Bryant made a frantic exit out of his end. Elizabeth reached down and unwrapped her apron. Pulling it off, she handed it to Rose, ignoring the older woman's order to stay put.

"You be careful now little one!" Rose cried out, as Elizabeth stepped out into the storm. The chilly rain nearly stole her breath when it first hit her face. Although the wind had quieted some, the lightening still crackled across the sky. Ignoring the leap of her heart at every crash of thunder, Elizabeth squinted through the storm and saw Bryant and William heading towards the copse of trees that sheltered the horses. Sliding in unnoticed, she reached for the bridle of the nearest horse, a big bay gelding, and tossed a saddle on his back.


"Bryant, can you toss me an extra rope from-" William's request, yelled in Bryant's direction across the howl of the storm, was cut off as he was struck with a corded rope across the chest that had come from another. He turned to the side quickly to see Elizabeth standing next to him, holding a horse that was tacked up.

"Oh no, this is just too dangerous!" William snapped, taking Elizabeth's arm in a firm grip. The young woman wrenched free though and glared at him fron underneath wet strands of hair that clung to her face.

"I'm a prisoner of war, you have no obligation to keep me safe. I can outride most of your men, and happen to know a thing or two about flashfloods. You wanna keep arguing and let those men drown?" She snapped, her green eyes flashing in defiance. Spinning on her heel, she swung herself into the saddle. Although the wet leather nearly caused her to slip off of the other side, Elizabeth adjusted her thin skirt so that she rode astride.

"Damn you woman!" William snapped, turning away as she mounted. When Bryant pulled up next to her with the same doubt written in his eyes, Elizabeth swung the reigns into one hand, crouched down over her mount's neck, and dug her heels into his side. Within moments, the three horses were thundering down the path towards the river, leaping over the occasional branch that had been brought down in the earlier wind.





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