Epilogue

Charlie crossed her arms, glaring at her mother, who was ignoring her. Again. It had been this way for days. Charlie talked and Rachel communicated her refusal to accept her daughter's relationship with Monroe by maintaining a steely silence. Miles had "translated," informing Charlie that Rachel would not speak to her until she broke it off with Bass. By this point, Charlie was past the sadness of disappointing and hurting her mother. Now she was just getting downright mad.

"I've told you how I feel and why a million times now. And you're not going to acknowledge me, standing here, trying to get you to understand. I love you, Mom. Can you please just make an effort here?"

Charlie's words only made Rachel smile sarcastically, her own brand of hurt anger flashing in her eyes. She continued to go about clearing away food in the kitchen as if she were alone.

It didn't matter how Charlie went about trying to reason with her mother. Tearful confessions of love for Monroe and how much he meant to her (and frankly, the tears, which she tried her best to swallow back and conceal, embarrassed her). How much better and stronger and braver she and Monroe were together. Things she hadn't told anyone else but Bass because they cut so close to her core.

She'd pointed out that Danny had been a soldier in a war, one who had known what he was getting himself into, the risks. Yes, Monroe was on the wrong side of that war. But he couldn't be held personally responsible for Danny's death. And as for Ben's, that was on Tom Neville. Silence, silence, silence. Rachel placed no faith in Charlie's words and showed them no respect. She persisted in despising Bass, blaming him for everything bad that had happened to their family, and thinking that this latest twist, his involvement with Charlie, was the latest manifestation of that pestilence.

Charlie refused to allow her mother to let her go over this, and she wasn't going to back down from standing by Monroe, either. Rock and a hard place? As Bass would say, for them, this was just another day.

"You know what the worst part is?" Charlie asked, following her mother outside and stalking her with words while Rachel took the dry laundry down from the line. "You're such a hypocrite. You wanna talk about loving someone you're not supposed to love, in terrible circumstances, and being judged for it but not caring because you know it's right? Seriously, Mom? Explain Miles."

This comparison between Charlie's love for Bass and Rachel's love for Miles provoked no response from Rachel, but Miles himself stepped onto the porch and shook his head. "Leave me out of it."

"You think you can just sidestep this whole dilemma like it's not there? What happened to your plan to run Monroe out of town, anyway?" Charlie asked with a smirk, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded her uncle.

"Well, he was right about one thing," Miles explained. "We do need him to beat the Patriots." Charlie's face lit up at the implication that he appreciated Bass a little. It was a start. Noticing the change in her expression, that indication of hope in her previously worn, haunted features, Miles quickly added, "But that's the only reason. You're not getting my seal of approval on this..." he swiveled his hand from side to side crookedly. "...'romance'...thing."

"Air-quotes, Miles?" Charlie quipped. "Really?" She turned to go, satisfied at least in making some minuscule dent in her family's arguments against Monroe. As for Gene, he'd been hiding behind quietly dignified disapproval, speaking minimally to Charlie though not freezing her out altogether. Eventually, she'd get through to all three of them. She had to.

As Charlie slid a foot into her stirrup and began to hoist herself onto her horse, she caught sight of a cloud of dust on the horizon that looked downright suspicious. "Mom. Miles." They came to stand beside her, squinting into the distance, noticing the same thing she did.

A large group of Patriots was headed straight for them.

"Well, this can't be good," Miles gulped, expressing the trio's shared thoughts eloquently.

"Hey, guys," Monroe said, striding up behind them and stopping beside Charlie. He'd rode in from the opposite direction to meet up with them. "Weren't you going to invite me to the party?"

To be continued in the upcoming sequel to this story...