Page 52 of The Unknown Birds

Rook nodded, grim-faced, as he watched them go.

“This is silly,” Ash whined.

“Mate, you’ve got trench foot,” Tom told her.

“What?”

He looked down at her miserably. “We were supposed to check each other’s feet for signs.”

“They’re just cold,” she protested again, but panic was rising up her throat.

“They’re numb, you said.”

“Yes.”

“Pins and needles?”

Ash didn’t want to answer. He was scaring her. But finally she admitted, “Some.”

“Do they itch or burn or ache?”

“Yes…” she whispered.

Tom was silent for a bit as they wound their way along the zigzagged avenue. “I’m sorry for not checking,” he finally told her. “It felt sort of… wrong? And, I suppose I was afraid if someone came along while I was doing it and saw your feet they might… you know… know.”

“Do you think the doctor will know?” she asked, beginning to feel faint with this additional new worry, but TomTom simply shrugged.

Trench foot. Would they cut off her feet? They’d likely have to—and then what would she do, footless and sent home without even a Thank you for your service?

“I don’t want to be a nun,” she whimpered.

“A nun? Making deals with the Lord already, are you?”

“If they cut off my feet, who else would have me but the church?”

Tom was silent for a long moment, and the fact that he didn’t immediately swear they wouldn’t cut them off made Ashley’s panic ratchet higher.

“I would,” he said, ever so softly.

Ash turned sharply, searching his eyes for signs of teasing, but none were there. She had meant a job, not… that.

“I know you fancy Rook, but I⁠—”

“I don’t!” she protested.

He gave her a look of ardent skepticism. “Anyway, feet or no, you’ll do all right. You’re as good as any man and better’n most. So if they take them—which they won’t—but if they do, and you find yourself bound for the convent, just you send word for me, and I’ll be there to take you anywhere else you want to go.”

Ash stared at him with tears in her eyes, not quite sure what to say.

She loved Tom dearly—as a brother, a pal.

He turned away from her searching gaze, neck flushed and ears burning, and shoved his eyeglasses further up his nose. “Hurry up, now, before they fall off by themselves,” he said.

“Feet?” the triage nurse asked before Ash could even remove her arm from around Tom’s neck. “Twelfth case this week.” She shook her head and pointed to a bed before shooing Tom back to the trenches.

“See, Ash?” he called over his shoulder as he was leaving. “You’re not even special.”

“You too, shoo!” the nurse told Max, who must have followed silently along behind them just like she had the last time Ash was sent for medical attention. Matted and muddy and hangdog though she was, she wagged her tail the moment Ashley looked her way. “Go on,” the nurse said, waving her off.