River

Rosy

I could never have imagined Gregor like this. When he comes running up the street after the beast lets go of me, he looks more terrified than I have ever seen anyone. I can tell when he reaches me that he thinks I am hurt. A fair assumption, considering that I am completely covered with blood.

It takes some doing to convince him that I am fine, and he is calmer now, but still seems very shaky.

I want to have Nadine help me get out of these filthy clothes, but Gregor will not leave me alone for a second. He insists on doing it himself. So he helps peel the dress off of me in our bedroom, and he uses the washbasin and towels to clean me off. He obviously doesn’t believe that I am actually not hurt until he finishes wiping off my entire body, inspecting me to make sure that I really don’t have any injury.

I don’t think I will ever forget the sound of him sobbing, and his relief when he realized that I am fine. If ever I doubted that he could truly love me, those doubts are gone. His agony when he thought I was injured proved it to me beyond any question.

There’s something else I will never forget.

I bested the beast. I shot him. I wrestled with him. I escaped from him. He ran away.

He once had me in his power, and I felt helpless against him.

But now, I feel more powerful than I ever imagined was possible. I feel strong. Strong enough to be the one comforting my husband, who clearly is the one who needs it right now.

Gregor

It takes me a long time to get control of myself. I don’t feel ashamed at having become so hysterical, just amazed. It has been an age since I was so emotional.

I know that Rosalind is not judging me for this. Nor is Wolk, of course.

“I only wish I could have found a way to help you, beloved,” he says sadly. “I wish that you did not have to suffer through that fear.”

“It was my fault,” I think to him. “I should have just listened to you, it would have helped me think more clearly.”

“Truthfully, though, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”

“No,” I think, clasping Rosalind tighter to me. She is submitting to my neediness, allowing me to cling to her. We are in our bedroom still, fully clothed on our bed, and I am wrapped around her, feeling the security of having her in my arms. “In the end, nothing I did made any difference. It was all her.”

I set the trap, thinking that I had everything in place, then none of it went as planned. Poor little Jake decided to be a hero and fight Mason, an effort that was doomed to fail. It was a very impressive feat of bravery, though, and did in fact end with the defeat of our enemy.

He is downstairs right now, Samuel tending him in the parlor. I am ashamed that I forgot all about him when I arrived at the street and saw Rosalind covered with blood. Knowing I am thinking of him, Wolk says, “Jake’s concussion is not severe, he should recover. He will have a crashing headache for a few days, but he is young and resilient. Sadly, the concussion is causing nausea as well, which is making him regret eating so much candy for the past two days.”

Good grief, that is my fault too.

I have failed on so many levels.

“Darling, you may have set the pieces on the board, but those pieces had minds of their own. It was not your failure. It was only that the situation unfolded differently than you expected.”

No kidding. The pieces surely did all have minds of their own, more than I could have dreamed. It wasn’t only Jake deciding to confront a wanted criminal.

It was Rosalind, too. Wasn’t I just thinking the other day that I should not underestimate her? Here I left her out of all of the planning, never told her one thing about what was happening, treated her as a helpless child, all to try to protect her from the machinations of men. When in fact, in the end, she protected herself.

I had no idea she even knew how to shoot the pistol. It had never occurred to me to ask her. I have underestimated her in so many ways. Then the way that Wolk has described it, she fought Mason off, kneeing him right in the bullet wound she had given him, which is what forced him to give up on his plan and flee.

“He has not returned. He and Stu managed to loop northwards around the outskirts of town, and were journeying more or less parallel to the Trace but not on it when they moved beyond my ability to sense them. Mason was growing increasingly weaker with blood loss. It is unlikely that he will trouble you again any time soon.”

We are quiet for a time. I rest with my face buried in her hair, while she simply waits patiently for me, her hand stroking the arm that I have wrapped around her from behind.

Her serenity is in sharp contrast to my disquiet. My plans fell apart explosively. Her reaction to this saved the day. We are both adjusting to this new reality.

I know that I am going to have to get up from this bed and take care of business, but I am so grateful to both Wolk and Rosalind for their patience with me. For letting me just exist in this moment.

Thomas

At least I caught one of the gang. I guess. I certainly would not have expected this. I know Ben. I’ve seen him Under-the-hill, I have even played poker with him. I hardly know anything about him, except that he is very quiet, and plays poker with an understated and deadly efficiency.

But a bandit? I was ready to disregard Henry’s allegation as being ridiculous, but Ben has not said one word to deny it. Surely if he was innocent he would at least say so. But no, he has quietly accompanied me back into town, and allowed me to lock him up in our militia’s little jail cell. He has not said anything at all. But the waves of despair are rolling off of him so thickly I can practically feel it. As soon as the door closes behind him, he slumps down on the cot in the cell and buries his face in his hands.

I guess I have to go and talk to the other militia captain, bring him up to speed on the situation. Tonight’s plan is off, obviously, Mason moved too early, well before we had gotten into position.

Now I just have to figure out what to do about Ben.

There’s nobody here to watch over the prisoner. We don’t staff the jail, we hardly ever have cause to use it. He should be secure here. I check to make sure the waste bucket is in the cell, and bring him a cup of water, pushing it through the bars.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him before going. He doesn’t even look up from his hands.

Ben

Just because I saw it coming doesn’t make it less painful. My heart literally feels like it has fractured in two, a crushing pain in my chest. Samuel’s hopeful look as he glanced up at me, waiting for me to deny the accusation, will stay with me forever. Along with the growing dismay in his eyes when I said nothing as Thomas pulled me away.

My despair is only compounded by the knowledge that David is alone, and sick, and there is nobody to help him.

I cannot.

Gregor is in his house with his wife, overwhelmed with everything that has happened, and will be too occupied with his family to do anything else.

Samuel will probably put it all together now that he knows that I was there that day. And he will realize that David was there with me on the Trace. Gregor said both of our names that day, David and Ben, and I am sure that Samuel will remember now. Will he send Thomas to arrest David as well? Or will he simply leave him alone, possibly to die without further care?

I long for the comfort that only one person could bring to me, the one person who will never want to see me again.

I don’t care what happens to me now. Life without Samuel is a bleak prospect, not even worth living.