Author's Notes

Hi everyone! Sorry about the wait! I'm in the middle of exams so things have been busy (Naturally, I would much rather spend my time writing this story)

I am truly so warmed by all your reviews... And to the Guests and Kathy— thank you so much.

It makes me very happy that you are liking the story so far. So, here is the next chapter, the day after the dinner party. I hope this one works and that you all enjoy it.


Chapter 8

July 31, 1865

Ringing church bells could be heard all across Virginia City and beyond, calling people to morning prayer. The streets were fairly empty, as they usually were on Sundays, and many shops were closed for the duration of the service which was about to begin. The Cartwright family rode side by side, filling out the street and when the church came into their sights, they went straight to the hitching post by a couple of trees, just outside the building. They dismounted hurriedly, all of them looking over at the open church doors.

Joe pushed his hat up, throwing a hand out in the air. "Hey, looks like we're gonna make it. The doors haven't closed yet."

"We ain't gonna make it if you don't stop dawdlin' so get to tying that horse, shortshanks!"

"Don't you start yapping at me," Joe said, pointing a finger at Hoss, "it was your horse that made us all late in the first place!"

"Aw Joe, old Chub can't help it that he threw a shoe, it sure ain't his fault . . ."

Seeing that their father was about to lose his temper, Adam stepped in between his bickering brothers.

"We're here now so let's just forget about how we got here, okay?" He grabbed the reins from Joe's hand and tied Cochise to the hitching post. "Now, let's go."

Adam gently pushed his brothers' backs to get them moving, and Joe walked up next to Hoss, giving the big man a playful shove on the shoulder. Hoss was about to return the favor and with quite a bit more force, but when he saw the conciliatory smile on his younger sibling's face, he just grinned. Following behind them, Adam looked back at his father whose shoulders rose and fell, and Ben couldn't help but smile either.

The church was packed full of people and the Cartwrights made it inside just as the sermon was about to begin. They found a place to stand at the back, close by the big doors. Although they didn't attend church every Sunday, they'd all felt that it was the right time to go as a whole family again.

Joe stood in between his brothers and within a few seconds, he had spotted Maisy McCoy. She was sitting a few rows up and as if she'd sensed him watching her, she turned and gave a discreet wave when she saw him. Joe bowed his head charmingly, and as the Reverend began his address, the young man kept his eyes on Maisy's fiery hair and the glimpses of pale skin peeking out from underneath it.

Adam noted Joe's line of sight, but who was he to disapprove? He was scanning the rows himself, searching for Madeline's brown locks. Halfway through the Reverend's sermon, which turned out to be lost on two out of the four Cartwrights, Adam saw Paul on the second row and realized that Madeline must be next to him, probably in front of the irritatingly tall gentleman on the third row.

Even though he'd spent the whole previous evening with her, Adam could hardly wait to be with her again. Knowing that she was so close, yet still being unable to see her, was beyond frustrating.

After the final hymn had been sung and Rev. Brown had said some parting words, the Cartwright family went outside as soon as the doors opened to avoid getting caught up in the mass of people. Hoss headed for the blacksmith shop with Chub and Joe went off to have a little private time with Maisy who'd rushed out of the church to meet him.

Adam had gone back to the horses with his father and he was now staring intently at the people flooding out the doors. He was so concentrated on looking for Madeline, that he didn't even realize it when someone came straight up to him.

"Hello Adam, my pal. I thought this might be the best time to approach you. You know, after church and all, you're probably feeling pretty peaceful and calm right about now."

Adam managed a brief, unseeing glance at his friend.

"Oh . . . hi Dave . . . how are you?"

Pausing for a second, David Howell eyed the dark Cartwright, then turned a baffled look onto Ben.

"Well, you should take this one to church more often Ben. I was expecting a tongue-lashing at the very least after that article I wrote, and he's as mellow as a lamb."

"Yea . . . uh, you too, Dave," Adam mumbled, his legs suddenly moving, "excuse me . . ."

Ben chuckled at the journalist's obvious confusion when Adam left them and walked over to Doctor Martin and Madeline who had just emerged from the crowd and were moving away from all the commotion.

"Isn't that the doc's niece? What's her name . . . Miss Delaney, is it?"

"Yes. It sure is," Ben said to the curious writer.

"Hmmm. Pretty little thing."

"Yes, that she is."

The two men watched as Adam called to the doctor and Madeline and she spun around to him, her features lit up with delight. He said something funny, apparently, because she laughed, and one side of Paul's mouth curled up. The three talked for a minute or so until Paul pulled out his pocket-watch and spoke to Madeline. Almost immediately, Adam broke in and pointed to himself, holding out his other hand in a questioning gesture and Madeline's smile grew as she looked at her uncle expectantly. When Paul eventually nodded, the resignation on his face was palpable, even from a distance, and the young woman quickly took Adam's arm when he offered it to her.

Paul said something else to Adam, which he seemed to agree with, and then the doctor turned and walked briskly down the street. Adam led Madeline in the opposite direction, towards Ben and David.

As Ben observed them, it truly hit him what a striking couple they made—Adam in his Sunday suit and Madeline in a white dress with matching gloves, a black purse in her hand.

When they came over, Adam regarded David as if the writer had only just appeared.

"Dave, this is Miss Madeline Delaney, Doctor Martin's niece. Or have you two already met?"

"No, not formally." David took the gloved hand she held out to him. "Very pleased to meet you Miss Delaney."

"I am pleased to meet you too, Mr. Howell. I enjoy reading your articles very much," Madeline said, her eyes bright with sincerity.

She then turned to Ben with a wide smile. "Thank you again for such a wonderful evening yesterday, Ben. I am happy that I finally got to see the beauty of the Ponderosa in person."

"Your presence made the evening more pleasurable for everyone, Madeline." Ben patted her hand. "You are very welcome to visit us at the ranch, anytime."

After making a hum of agreement, Adam addressed his father.

"Pa, I'm going to help Madeline pick up some things from the general store. I'll follow you afterwards."

"All right, Hoss will probably be a while at the blacksmith too. I'll see you back home later then."

Madeline dipped her head in farewell at the two men, and she and Adam strolled down the street, walking closely next to each other.

Following them with his eyes, David folded his hands behind his back.

"Well . . . that explains a lot. Or rather, she does."

Ben made no comment but the joy he felt was clearly displayed on his face for everyone to see. There were many changes happening with his firstborn, and this one was definitely for the better.

xXXx

"It is very nice of you to accompany me," Madeline said as they walked along the boardwalk, "I need quite a few items and I think Uncle Paul was a little pressed for time."

"Really, it's no problem. I know how busy his work keeps him, even on a Sunday. I'm more than happy to help out with anything you might need, Madeline. Just let me know."

"Thank you, Adam . . ."

There was a note of mild surprise in her voice and when Adam faced her, he saw that she was studying him. He was actually surprised himself, but not at the fact that he'd offered her his help. He was taken aback though, over how much he wanted to help her—with any little thing—and how he wanted to be the one she would ask if she needed something. She kept gazing at him like she was trying to work something out, then the faint beginnings of a smile started to form on her lips and she turned back to the street ahead.

They continued down the boardwalk and their conversation flowed easily as it had done the evening before. Neither of them said it out loud, but they were both aware of the strange connection that seemed to be between them; like an invisible force growing stronger with each time they met, pulling them towards each other.

Talking with Madeline was unpretentious and natural and Adam had realized the previous evening that she was knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics. For instance, when talk had turned to the country's political situation, the McCoy sisters had quite unsuccessfully tried to hide their boredom while Madeline had joined in the discussion with the men, adding her own insight and opinions—all of which Adam happened to agree with. It had been accepted by everyone at the table, although it was by no means common for a woman to engage in political talk the way she had done.

Adam had been pleased to learn that Madeline was a woman with clear ideas about what she felt was wrong and right and she wasn't afraid to share her views. How she balanced that trait with her very delicate and lady-like character was one of the things that he just couldn't fathom about her, and also one of the very things that intrigued him so.

Additionally, he'd discovered that despite their very different backgrounds, he and Madeline had a few mutual interests and she even owned some of the same books as he did.

As they walked to the general store, he noticed that people were watching them and he started to worry about the gossip that would soon be spreading across town like wildfire. Not that he cared about it himself, but he didn't know how Madeline would take it and the last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable. Still, the worry didn't outweigh the pleasure and pride he felt at having this amazing woman on his arm and he shut out the nosy citizens, turning his full attention onto her thoughts on Rev. Brown's sermon.

When they got to the store, he held the door open for her and followed her inside. There were a few other customers in the shop. Three ladies in their late thirties stood chatting together near the counter, fanning themselves with white handkerchiefs, and a group of men were conversing by the doorway leading to the second room of the shop.

Adam was acquainted with most of them and they all offered courteous greetings when he came in. He nodded back at them all, but caught onto the subtle change in Madeline's mood and she suddenly seemed uneasy. The three women made a couple of remarks directed at him in a clear attempt to draw him into a conversation, and he didn't miss how their sharp gazes rolled up and down Madeline standing next to him.

While his face remained polite, his demeanor became quietly unapproachable and he faced away from them, half-smiling down at Madeline instead. Briefly, her eyes flickered warily from him to the women, but then she anchored her attention to the black purse in her hands and got out the list with the items that she needed to buy.

The storekeeper came out from the backroom and stood at the counter and Madeline stayed back to see if anyone was waiting to be served. When nobody else moved, she stepped forward, the list ready in her hand. It was as if the most outspoken of the three women had waited and timed her own approach, so she and Madeline both ended up standing in front of the counter at the exact same time. What followed was a very awkward moment where the older woman directed a chilly stare down at Madeline, her pointy nose tipped up in the air, her two friends smirking behind her. The storekeeper's head flew from side to side as he stood in between the two women, a slow crimson climbing up his neck.

After a couple of stunned seconds, Madeline shifted her focus to the flustered man and smiled kindly at him, putting the list back in her purse.

"Perhaps you should serve this lady first, Mr. Baxter. I can wait, I am in no hurry."

"Uh . . . yes, yes all right, Ma'am."

Without sparing so much as a glance at the provocative woman, Madeline calmly turned and strode right past the other two ladies and the now silent men, her posture straight and dignified.

Adam waited until she had disappeared into the other room and then let his polite mask slip. His expression was one of cool indifference but his eyes revealed a glint of fierce intensity as he gave the whispering women a long, hard look. Their murmuring stopped at once and the three white handkerchiefs hung limply from their hands. Having witnessed everything, the group of men had no sympathy whatsoever for the ladies who'd just encountered the renowned glare of the most intimidating Cartwright family member.

Turning his back on the speechless women, Adam went into the other room to look for Madeline.

She was standing by some shelves with pots and pans, her side turned to him. As he approached her, he saw that she drew in a breath before facing him and she spoke before he had a chance to say anything.

"I just remembered, Uncle Paul mentioned that he would like a proper tray for making biscuits. He . . ." She hesitated, averting her eyes. "He wants to attempt a turkey recipe like Hop Sing's."

Adam didn't reply. He just stood there, drinking in the sight of her looking graceful as a dove in her white dress, and he knew that her beauty was as rare as her inner strength. At that instant, he was almost overwhelmed by all the things he wanted to say to her. She was the most amazing woman he'd ever met, and he wanted her to know it, so badly.

"Would you help me look for one? A biscuit tray?" she asked, still not meeting his gaze.

She had definitely gotten to him, there was no running from it. But it wasn't the right time to tell her.

"Of course, I will," he said instead, reaching up to touch one of the shelves. "Obviously, Paul should own a biscuit tray."

The corners of his mouth quirked up as he waited and she finally looked at him.

"Yes," she said, her features softening. "He certainly should."

They began searching for a tray and Madeline gradually relaxed again, but Adam sensed that she was still a little distracted.

A few minutes later, they heard shoes clattering along the floorboards in the other room and muffled voices becoming fainter, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Shortly after, a very apologetic-looking Mr. Baxter appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on his apron.

"I'm ready now Miss Delaney, whenever you are."

"All right, I will be right there, Mr. Baxter."

Adam glanced up from the book he was leafing through and saw Madeline pick up the biscuit tray they'd found.

"You can stay here and look through the books, Adam," she said, "I'll just give Mr. Baxter the list, it will probably take a while for him to get everything together."

"Okay, I'll wait here then."

He watched her walk to the doorway but just before she disappeared through it, he noticed her look over at some green fabric displayed on a table.

xXXx

Madeline came into the main room which was now empty except for Mr. Baxter and herself and she placed the biscuit tray on the counter.

"I'd like to purchase this tray and I also need these items," she said, pulling the list from her purse and handing it to the storekeeper.

Mr. Baxter skimmed the paper.

"Yes Ma'am. I'll have these supplies ready for you in a few minutes. The doc isn't with you today, Miss?"

"No, he had some patients he needed to see and Mr. Cartwright was kind enough to accompany me." Madeline's tone suddenly became concerned. "Is your wife not feeling better, Mr. Baxter? Did you need the doctor to see her again?"

"Oh no no, not at all," he said, waving his hand, "she's doing really well now. That medicine the doc gave her helped a lot with her cough. She'll be up and about in no time."

"I am very happy to hear that." Madeline smiled at him "Please give her my regards when you see her."

"I will, Ma'am, she'll be mighty glad to hear from you. She usually doesn't handle doctors all that well, but your presence made her much more comfortable."

"Well, I am glad that I could be of some help."

"You really did help, Miss," he said with emphasis. Then he looked at the list again. "Well, you can continue looking around while I see to this. It shouldn't take too long."

"Thank you very much."

The storekeeper started getting the supplies ready and Madeline went back into the other room.

When she crossed the threshold of the doorway, Adam was standing over by the sewing materials, scrutinizing the emerald green fabric on the table. She paused, watching him.

Adam knew she was there and he inspected the cloth, trying to look like he actually had an idea about what he was doing.

"I was just thinking," he said, his eyes lifting to meet hers, "I bet this would make a fine dress . . ."

Madeline contained a smile and walked over to him, touching her chin with a fingertip.

"Oh, really?"

"Yea, take a look."

He gestured to the table and she peered down at the green silk that she had admired the last three times she'd been to the store.

"Hmm yes . . . I believe you are right." She looked up at him. "You surprise me Adam, I didn't know you had an interest in such things. What did you have in mind?"

Her face was the picture of innocent curiosity, but there was a gleam of mirth in her eyes—one she did very little to hide. Unfazed, Adam smiled and cocked his head to the side.

"Why don't you tell me your ideas first and I'll see if they resemble mine."

"Well . . . I think an evening gown," she said thoughtfully, brushing her fingers along the smooth silk. "The decoration should be subtle to enhance the elegance of the material. A gathered skirt with drapery and pleating along the sides . . . perhaps some gold embroidery in floral patterns along the bodice. Short, puffed sleeves with engageantes and an off-the-shoulder neckline."

Adam listened as the picture she was imagining slowly faded away and she faced him questioningly.

"Yea, exactly what I was thinking."

She laughed at the blatant lie and he stepped closer to her.

"Since we both have such a clear vision of what this material should be used for, I'd like to buy it for you."

Madeline quickly pulled her hand away from the fabric and turned to him, startled.

"Oh no Adam, it is far too expensive!"

"No, it isn't. Besides, now I want to see this creation you just described. Consider it a gift from me."

"I cannot possibly accept it . . . and I am not at all qualified to work with such fine silk."

"Madeline, you are very talented, that dress you wore yesterday was . . .incredible."

The memory of her in that lavender dress, standing so close to him by the corral suddenly sent a surge of heat through his body. When he realized that he still hadn't convinced her to take his present, he sighed dramatically.

"Oh, all right then. Repay me with a picnic."

"I . . . excuse me?"

"Next week—you can choose a day. I'll come by to pick you up and you prepare a picnic for us. We'll take a ride out to the Ponderosa."

She stared at him, her lips slightly parted and a tiny furrow marking her brow. Finally, her expression smoothed out and she levelled her sight with the black tie around his collar.

"A picnic is hardly sufficient repayment for such a gift . . ."

"It's more than enough for me."

Seeing that he'd won, Adam gathered up the folded cloth and held it under his arm when her hesitant voice addressed him.

"Adam? Thank you . . ."

The way she looked at him then was all the repayment he could ever need.

"It's my pleasure, Madeline."

When they went back into the main room, Mr. Baxter had all the supplies ready. Madeline paid for the items and Adam bought the green silk which caused the man behind the counter to grin a little. Mr Baxter had packed the supplies in a big basket and told Madeline that she could return it whenever it was convenient. She thanked him and Adam took the basket in one hand and held the biscuit tray under his other arm while she carried the silk, which had been wrapped neatly.

The two enjoyed the walk back to the doctor's house and after Adam had carried things inside for her, Madeline followed him out onto the porch.

"I don't think my Uncle will need me very much on Tuesday. I should be free at noon, if it fits with you?"

"Yes, that's fine. I'll be here at twelve o'clock then."

Madeline nodded and a flash of excitement crossed her face.

"Thank you for all your help today, I appreciate it very much."

"Well, I won't lie, it wasn't exactly a purely selfless act." Adam crossed his arms, inclining his head at her. "Who would pass up the chance to walk down the street in your lovely company?"

She gave him a toothy smile and her lashes swept down for a moment.

"You are quite the charmer, Sir . . ."

"You are quite a lady, Ma'am."

He placed one foot down onto the top step of the porch stairs, needing to leave, yet wanting to stay.

"Until Tuesday then."

"Yes, until Tuesday."

With a last smile and a tip of his hat, he walked down the stairs and strode up the street towards the church.

Well aware that she couldn't just stand there and watch him go, Madeline went back inside the house. She walked into the kitchen and undid the string around the brown package lying on the table. Stroking the green silk, she smiled, her mind turning to the man who was stealing her heart so quickly.

xXXx

When Adam had collected Sport at the church, he rode down to the blacksmith and saw Hoss and Joe standing outside with their horses. They waved as soon as they saw him and he pulled up next to them.

"Did you get everything sorted out?"

"Hi Adam!" Hoss shaded his eyes with a hand to look up at him. "Yup old Chubby here's as good as new."

"All right, you two ready to go home then?"

"Hey now older brother, we aren't exactly in a hurry, are we?"

Adam cast a skeptical look down onto Joe who winked up at him.

"Little brother, it's barely past noon."

"But Adam, Sam is probably getting real upset that you haven't been in to visit him yet. Besides, we have to celebrate! One little beer . . ."

The mounted sibling released a long-suffering sigh.

"And just what are we supposed to be celebrating?"

"Oh, you know . . . it's a beautiful day . . . Chub's new shoe . . . come on Adam, even Rev. Brown said something about this being a time for celebration!"

"Joe, I doubt that he meant—" Adam cut himself off and rolled his eyes. "Oh, get on your horses, will you? I'm getting thirsty just listening to your babbling."

Joe practically bounced off the ground and into the saddle and Hoss mounted up with a gap-toothed grin. Adam couldn't even pretend to be annoyed with his brothers, he was in too good a mood.

They rode to the Bucket of Blood, which was fairly empty at that time, and Sam was happy but visibly surprised to see them. He poured Adam a free beer just like he'd promised that day at the fair, and Hoss reminded Joe that it was his turn to pay for their drinks.

They had a good time and Sam entertained them with stories about what had been transpiring in town for the last week. Adam was pretty sure that most of the bartender's anecdotes were rather exaggerated, but they made him chuckle anyway and his brothers laughed until they were both dizzy and red-faced. At one point, when Sam was busy serving drinks, Joe and Adam turned towards Hoss when they noticed him grunting and grimacing while he pulled at his black tie to get it loose. Seeing their questioning looks, he just grumbled that whoever invented the "dadblasted silly piece of string", obviously hadn't ever chugged down a beer while wearing one. His annoyed expression combined with the way he glared down at the tie past his jutting chin, left Adam and Joe hanging onto the bar as they shook with laughter.

It was much later than any of them anticipated when the three brothers finally headed back to the Ponderosa. Adam's head was buzzing a bit. He hadn't had a whole lot to drink but he was no longer used to beer or to drinking more than just one glass of something at a time. During the four years at war, he'd practically avoided alcohol completely, feeling that as an officer he needed his wits about him at all times and that he should set a good example for his men.

It was safe to say that he was a little out of practice.

Joe was clearly the most affected out of the three and he was swaying in the saddle, giggling at random things they rode past along the trail. The two older brothers stayed on either side of him, making sure he didn't topple off his horse and come home with a broken leg as well.

When they rode into the yard, it was late afternoon and Adam held onto his giggly sibling's arm, shushing him, while Hoss reached up to help Joe down. Adam dismounted a little unsteadily and went over to stand in front of Joe, wanting to make him look more presentable. He was trying to tame the younger man's chaotic hair—while telling him to pull himself together—when someone spoke from behind them.

"Well, it's about time you three came home."

The displeased tone only had its usual effect on Hoss who gulped and scrunched up his face. Adam just felt warm and woozy while Joe was a lost cause. When they turned around, Ben took in the sight of his three sons and it was suddenly very difficult for the father to maintain his stern demeanor. Adam straightened and elbowed Joe's slouching form.

"Sorry we're late, Pa. We uh . . . stopped by the Bucket of Blood on the way home."

"Aha." Ben dragged his gaze over the three men before settling on Adam. "Tell me, is the saloon still in business or did your brother drink up everything Sam had?"

Joe let out a cackle pitched so high that birds flew from the nearby trees.

The dark eyebrows on Ben's forehead lowered and Hoss glanced nervously at Adam who stood tall and expressionless.

"Well. You better get him inside and straight to bed. I doubt he'll want any supper, might as well let him sleep it off."

"Yes Sir," Hoss said and spun around, grabbing Joe. He hastened to the porch with his little brother hanging on his arm like a rag doll.

Adam stood completely still in true military fashion, feeling that he hadn't yet been dismissed. The tightness in Ben's expression eased and he laid a hand on his eldest's shoulder, gently turning him in the direction of the house as they started walking.

"Did you have a good time, son?"

"Yea, we did. I've missed those two scamps. I hope they know that."

Surprised at his son's honest words, Ben shot a sideways look at him. The slight flush on Adam's face, brought Ben to the conclusion that the alcohol had probably caused his sudden openness.

"They know, Adam," Ben said simply as they stepped onto the porch and went inside the house.

xXXx

The rest of the evening was quiet and subdued without Joe. The young man had been put to bed without even getting changed into his bedclothes.

Adam left half a plate of his supper, much to Hop Sing's dismay, while Hoss ate his usual three helpings with vigor. Afterwards, when they were sat together around the fireplace, Adam's head fell back against the chair as he let out a deep breath—a sigh of pure content. The sound made Ben and Hoss look up from their cribbage game, and no words were needed between them. The smiles adorning their faces said it all.

That night, Adam lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been in to check on Joe on his way up, making sure that a bucket was by the bed in case it was needed during the night. Even after four years of being a fairly strict army captain, his older brother instincts were as strong as ever. Afterwards, he'd gone to his own room and attempted to read, but however much he had stared at the words on the page, they made no sense to him for some reason. In the end, he'd given up when he felt a headache coming on.

Now he'd been lying like this for almost an hour, still fully dressed.

He'd had such a good day. The first whole day he could remember where he'd hardly thought about the war. But now it was as if a blanket of dread had fallen across him and a lump had formed in his throat, restricting his air supply. He almost couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep and encountering the nightmares—the pain and the suffering—he knew was waiting for him. The alcohol's effect had worn off and now the reality of how troubled his mind still was, hit him hard.

Normally, he was prepared for what awaited him in the nights because most of those images and memories were somewhere in his awareness during the day anyway. Only, today had been different. He'd had a proper break from it all and that made everything so much harder now.

He tried thinking about Madeline and the picnic he would be taking her on in just two days. But cruel visions of maimed bodies lying in the grass around the picnic blanket made his throat burn with nausea. To escape them, he abruptly sat up and swung his legs across the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the floor. He pressed both hands against his temples in a useless attempt to stop the thoughts charging around in his head. Everything was so loud. He pressed harder, but the building pain couldn't silence the oppressive noise.

He knew he must be really out of it when he caught himself actually considering waking up his Pa. It was a fleeting idea, but still, it had been there.

How many times had he sat by one of his men during the night when the horrors of their own minds got the better of them? So many he'd lost count. And he'd seen them go to each other when it was needed, he even encouraged it. But he'd never asked for it or accepted it for himself. He was their captain and he was supposed to be the one they could count on—the person who at least had some measure of control in the chaos around them.

The one they could trust never to crumble.

The thought struck him that he wasn't a captain anymore and he couldn't come up with a sound reason as to why he shouldn't wake up his father, especially when he knew that his Pa would absolutely want him to.

It was just something he physically couldn't bring himself to do.

He sprang up from the bed and began pacing aggressively, unable to understand why he was reacting this way. It seemed to go on forever; he kept moving back and forth, his heart hammering in his chest, feeling like a personal hurricane was about to break out inside him. About to rip him apart for good.

And then, his eyes landed on the dresser. His whole body froze and he looked away. At the walls, at the floor—he looked at anything and everything else in the room. But his gaze drifted back to where he didn't want it.

He wasn't really aware of how it happened, but it did and suddenly he was over there, standing in front of the dresser. Cautiously, he opened the top drawer where the little brown bottle lay and he picked it up, trying to focus on the unopened flask of laudanum as he held it.

A wave of self-disgust rose within him when he realized that his hand was shaking. Before he could change his mind, he ripped the cork lid off and took a long, deep swig of the drink, pressing his eyelids together, grimacing at the taste. When he opened his blurring eyes, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and immediately turned away from it.

Staggering towards the bed, he practically dropped down onto it, already feeling his head growing heavy. He didn't know whether he was just tired or if the tincture was already working. He didn't care either.

As he fell back onto the mattress and began to drift off, the panicked state he'd been in disappeared and left only a deep sadness behind.

From the moment he became a soldier, his biggest fear had not been of death or injury. It had been of bringing shame to himself and acting cowardly. Up until now, he'd endured the tormenting nights, believing that it was to be his punishment for the part he'd played in the war—for the lives lost under his command and the ones taken by his own hand.

The last conscious thought he had before he fell into a deep sleep, was that tonight, he'd taken a coward's way out.