Susanna paced the room, her blue eyes darting from the bed in the spar room to the oven as the biscuits rose in the oven. What to do, what to do...<br/><br/>The man had not awoke since his transportation into the house where Susan had stripped his blood soaked attire and replaced it with her husbands looser garments. The two men were luckily the same size. If anything, Timothy had been slightly larger in build from years of heavy farm work. Susan, unable to tolerate the blood, tossed the stained rags into the trash immediately. She dressed his wounds and tied a sling for his arm, but was at a loss for what else to do. If anything, it looked like the man needed to be feed and watered. From Timothy's letters, the soldiers were anything but well cared for.<br/><br/>Susan sighed heavily and took the biscuits from the oven, setting them on the table to cool. Taking a seat, she watched the soldier carefully, unsure how to care for him.