Laura hated the sun. She hated that everything looked like the perfect spring day. There should be nothing but thunderstorms all around. Nature itself should have been mourning her husband's death. That fool knew he was getting older. He would have been hitting retirement age if there was still such a thing in this world. The battlefield was no place for a man with more gray in his hair that not. But you could no more keep Miles Matheson from a battle than you could keep the sun from shining. And Laura hated it.

"Mom," Lucas called. "We need to go."

"I know," Laura said. "I'm coming."

Lucas held her hand as they walked out into the bright sunlight. The breeze from the river kept them from being too hot in their black mourning clothes. Together they made their way to the center of camp where Miles body lay on the large funeral pyre. They couldn't bury him. There was too much risk of the President's supporters desecrating the grave to keep it from being a rallying point. So they would burn it to ash instead.

Rachel and Bass gave her weak smiles as she approached with her son. Charlie was already fighting hard against the tears. Laura couldn't blame her. Losing Miles hurt. And it would never stop hurting. It was a toss-up as to whether Laura or Charlie would start sobbing first.

Laura nodded to the minister but for the first time in her life she didn't listen to what he had to say. She didn't want to hear about God or Heaven or being saved. She wanted Miles back. She wanted to go to her tent and see him waiting there for her, whiskey in hand and cocky grin on his face. Laura wanted to hear him play guitar and sing under the stars. She even wanted to hear him mock her religion because Miles Matheson had never seen a use for a god of any kind.

"Why did you have to die?" Laura whispered. "Why did you leave me alone?"

The minister stopped his preaching and asked if anyone wanted to speak about miles. People did of course. Bass, Rachel, Charlie, Mason and many others took their turn. Lucas was next to last, talking about what a wonderful man his father had been. And then it was Laura's turn.

"My husband…my husband was a lot of things. He was everything you've all said and more. He was…a complicated man. But he was his own man. He made good decisions and bad decisions but they were his decisions. Even in the Marines, even as General Matheson, he answered to no one but himself. He knew himself and he understood himself. That's a rare thing in this world and we are all a little poorer that he is gone now."

She stepped away and they began to light the pyre. Laura held on as best she could but as the first spark touched Miles' shirt, she sank to her knees sobbing. Lucas held her close. Charlie managed to keep it in until Miles was about half burned but even she had to let loose then. Her husband pulled her close to keep her from doing something stupid like running into the flames. Laura had to give everyone credit. The entire camp stayed there until it was nothing but a pile of ash. One by one they drifted off then. Charlie didn't want to leave but Mason pulled her away, apologizing to the family.

Lucas looked at Bass. "Can you hold her?" he asked.

Bass gathered Laura into his arms while Lucas went to the ash heap. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just this," Lucas said. He pulled out a length of cord with a glass vial attached. He slipped it into the ash. The vial came back half full of ash. The rest was taken up by a tooth. Lucas slipped the cord around his neck and went back to his mother. "I think it's time to go home," he told her softly.

"Just one more thing," Bass said as he helped Laura to her feet. "I wrote...to the town where Miles and I grew up. He still had a few friends there. I think. Anyway, they want your permission to put a headstone for him in the cemetery." He bit his lip. "Actually they wanted to do more than that but I said a headstone was enough."

"I'll…I'll let you know tomorrow," Laura replied. "I need to go home right now."

"I have something for you," Rachel called as she approached.

Laura sighed. "Please, Rachel, I am so exhausted. Please, I just…"

"It's from Miles."

"Miles?"

"Yes. He wanted me to hold on to it until your anniversary."

Laura frowned. "What is it?"

Rachel reached into her bag and pulled out a cd player and a pendant. "Listen," she encouraged.

Laura took them with a murmured thanks and allowed Lucas to help her back to their tent. "Do you want anything?" he asked.

"Not right now," she said. "I just want…I don't even know right now."

"Look, I'll be right outside the tent okay? Just come get me if you need anything."

Laura nodded and let him go. She sat on the bed she had once shared with Miles. Running her hand over the sheets she wondered how many washes it would take until his pillow no longer smelled like him. Her attention turned to the CD player and pendant Rachel had given her. She slipped the pendant on then slipped the earbuds in and pressed play. Miles warm, rich voice came rolling through the earbuds. "Hey honey. Look, we are both really aware of how bad I am with words. That's pretty much a staple in our relationship. But I wanted to tell you how special you are to me this year. You gave me something I never thought I would find. Forgiveness. And you have no idea how important that is. So I had Rachel help me set this up. Since I can't tell you how I feel about you…I figure I'll sing it."

Laura listened as the sound of Miles' guitar came through. "I'm a long, gone wailing song on vinyl/ I'm the back row center at a tent revival/ But she believes in me like she believes her bible/ And she loves me like Jesus does/"

Laura lay back on the sheets and listened as Miles played love song after love song for her. And she cried.

Outside the tent, Lucas listened quietly to his mother's wails. He wanted to go in and help her but right now, he was pretty sure she needed to be alone. Lucas didn't' even look up as a hand rested on his shoulder. "Thank you for the condolences but we'd really like some time to grieve privately," he said.

"I wasn't' planning on butting in."

Lucas turned. "Sorry, cousin. But you know how people are."

Charlie nodded. "I just wanted to give you something."

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

She handed him the Matheson family knife. "Your dad was going to give it to you on your birthday. Asked me to put it in my trunk so you wouldn't see it by accident when we moved out." Charlie shrugged. "But then the attack came…"

"Must really have been lucky," Lucas murmured. "Carried him through every battle except the one where he forgot to wear it."

"I think it had more to do with the bullets riddling his chest than a knife," Charlie pointed out. "But anyway, it's yours now." She squeezed his shoulder. "Always come home alive."

"Always come home alive," Lucas agreed, sliding the knife onto his belt.