A/N: Oh, man, I'm excited! This is officially my first published story; not my first written story by any means, but first here. The song Colder Weather belongs to the awesome Zac Brown band, and, of course, RA to Mr. John Flanagan. Enjoy!
"You know that if I could stay, I would."
Pauline nodded her head, blinked slowly. "I know. …I know."
It's always this way.
She'd trade Colorado if he'd take her with him.
Closes the door before the winter lets the cold in.
And wonders if her love
Is strong enough to make him stay.
Halt caressed his wife, running a rough hand down her cheek. She pulled closer to the touch, closing her eyes and he watched as an unbidden tear fell down Pauline's cheek and under his callused hand.
But she knew that this was part of Halt's job. It was part of him. Pauline loved him with all her heart, and that included that part of him that longed to be on the open road, just being a Ranger.
But he is her Ranger, and that made everything all the harder.
She's answered by the taillights
Shining through the windowpane.
Turning his head away, Halt abruptly turned to his horse. He absently checked the saddlebag one quick last time, and swung into the saddle. He pointed Abelard's head to the northeast and began a steady lope.
He said I want to see you again
But I'm stuck in colder weather.
Maybe tomorrow will be better
Can I call you then?
This was the worst part, he thought to himself. If only he could be with her and do his job, but that was fanciful thinking. That would be asking too much.
She knew how he was. She had voiced it before he left:
She said You're a rambling man
And you ain't ever gonna change.
You got a gypsy soul to blame
And you were born for leaving.
"This inn looks none too shabby," he muttered to no one in particular. Bedding Abelard down in the small stable, he strode into the little tavern. On a whim, he made his way to the bar instead of the usual corner.
At a truck stop diner just outside of Lincoln
The night as black as the coffee he was drinking.
"It's empty," Halt said to the innkeeper's wife; she was on duty. "Would you mind topping me back up?"
The woman strolled to where he sat at the bar, seeing the pot in her hand steam. Halt had quietly refused any wine earlier, wanting only coffee. "Something on your mind, sir?" she inquired, flashing him a gentle, warming smile.
And in the waitress's eyes, he sees
The same old light a-shining
He thinks of Colorado
And the girl he left behind him.
With a pang of anguish, he noticed that she reminded him of Pauline, with her natural grace and determination in her stance. He went to shake his head, then stopped himself. "Do you have a pen and parchment?" Halt asked the sweet woman. She flashed another dazzling, disarming smile his way. Without a word, she fetched him the items, and he began to write a note to a very special woman.
He said I want to see you again
But I'm stuck in colder weather.
Maybe tomorrow will be better
Can I call you then?
His tongue protruded from between his teeth as he wrote, making him look extremely youthful.
She said You're a rambling man
And you ain't ever gonna change.
You got a gypsy soul to blame
And you were born for leaving.
Born for leaving.
With every night that he spent under the stars, Halt became more aware of his conflicting emotions. There was the mournful stab of love and separation from Pauline. There was also the inevitable longing for the open road, the feeling of amounting to something in the world, in his country, and in his own eyes.
Well it's a winding road
When you're in the lost and found.
You're a lover, I'm runner
And we go round and round.
As he rode to the deep southwest, he wondered if all of this was worth it. After a quick pondering, Halt decided that it was.
And I love you but I leave you
I don't want you but I need you.
You know it's you
That calls me back here, baby
And this is why it's worth it, Halt judged as he neared Castle Redmont once again, his eyes trained on a beautiful woman in her customary white dress.
Oh, I want to see you again
But I'm stuck in colder weather.
Maybe tomorrow will be better
Can I call you then?
He strode effortlessly across the deep green grass to meet her. "Miss me much?" he questioned with a feigned smugness, grinning immensely.
"You have no idea," Pauline said as she wove her hands through the Ranger's hair, bringing their faces close.
On an impulse, Halt grabbed her hand. "Come with me."
'Cause I'm a rambling man (I ain't ever gonna change)
I ain't ever gonna change. (got a gypsy soul to blame)
And I was born for leaving.
Born for leaving.
The couple stopped in a vast garden, where Halt suddenly released his hold on her and turned to her. Bowing deeply and holding his hand out with a flourish, he said, "May I have this dance?"
When I close my eyes I see you
No matter where I am.
I can smell your perfume
Through these whispering pines.
They twirled in revolutions again and again, Halt leading. He knew that with all that he does, Pauline deserved much, much more. But also knew that this small gesture, dancing slowly to their own silent music, was worth volumes more to her than anything that Halt could say.
I'm with your ghost again.
It's a shame about the weather
But I know soon we'll be together
And I can't wait 'til then.
I can't wait 'til then.
And he led her in circles through the garden, continuing for the long hours after most decent folk had gone to bed.
But then again, at some times, Rangers and diplomats were hardly decent folk.
Finis