Chapter 26 - Gathered
Jeff slept, barely. The sheriff's office wasn't intended for sleeping, although he had been unlucky enough to sleep there more than once. Tomorrow his back will ache - his ribs already did.
But he was angry, and indignant, and righteous, and he couldn't back down from what he said.
He's doing the right thing: a duel was the only option.
His dreams were few and far between, and smoke poured out of them.
A noise in the middle of the night woke him up, and he tensed and ran to the porch, only to find Abed, carrying a huge sack on his back.
"Abed!" Jeff rasped. "You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing here?"
"I go where you go, because wherever you are, are the things that I would like to report."
Jeff rolled his eyes. "How did you know I'm here?"
"I saw you walking down the street. I brought blankets for both of us." He opened the sack and showed it to Jeff. "Were you sleeping in the sheriff's chair? There's a bed in the jail, you can sleep there." He turned to the room and spread the blankets on the bed frame and on the floor, on the other side. Jeff followed him and stood in the doorway, massaging the muscles in his shoulders that began to harden from the position he slept in the sheriff's chair, and hoped that Abed was right about it being more comfortable.
Abed lay on the bed and covered himself with another blanket. "You sleep on the floor, Sheriff. From experience, this bed is too small for you."
Jeff shuffled to the blankets on the floor, spreading them slowly. It wasn't a bed, but it was better than the chair. He stretched himself over it and closed his eyes.
"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Abed asked from his bed. "Brief me. You and Troy walked too fast, and then the bandits left and I didn't catch up to you in time. What happened?"
"I challenged them to a duel," Jeff said with his eyes closed. "I'll fight Stephen tomorrow morning. If I win, they must go without taking anything."
"Hmm," Abed said in his objective-journalist voice. "Why would they agree to that deal?"
Jeff sighed. He just wanted to sleep, but the quickest way to silence Abed was to satisfy his curiosity. "It's an old bandits law, since the founding of the nation. If the townspeople challenge the bandits to a duel, the law requires them to accept, to give the townspeople a fighting chance."
"How do you know that?"
Oh, right. Abed didn't hear his confession. "Abed..." Jeff sighed. "It's too long a story, can I tell you tomorrow?"
"Just answer that, I promise I won't ask any more questions today, even though I can think of at least seven more."
The storm outside began to calm down, and Jeff listened to the whistling winds and the pounding rain. "Okay. But no additional questions..."
"On my honor."
Jeff recounted in five sentences what he had told Troy and Annie earlier that evening. He concluded, "When Stephen and I worked with Dirty Bob, we emptied at least six towns this way. And out of them were two men who dared to try this method. Needless to say they both lost, but each time Dirty Bob accepted the challenge without question. Bandits have a unique code of honor."
"I see," Abed's voice echoed in the dark room. "And for the record, I now have about twenty new questions. But I'll save them for later. Good night."
"Good night."
After a few minutes Abed whispered, "Twenty-eight questions."
:::
The sky began to clear when the sheriff's office door opened, and Jeff awoke to the realization that he successfully slept on Abed's blankets.
He got up and began to stretch his limbs. He was tired and his body was creaking, but he didn't have time for that - he had a duel to prepare for. He started his morning exercises, and first of all: push-ups.
Abed murmured, his arm covering his eyes, "Someone came in. Who is it? Who's here?"
Jeff didn't stop as the soft steps approached the jail cell, raising his eyes only as the amber skirt filled his field of vision.
"I brought porridge," Annie said above him.
Abed whispered, "You're an angel."
She chuckled, and went to the sheriff's room. Jeff didn't know why, but it shouldn't have mattered to him. He was still holding his bitter emotions that evolved too fast and too hot, but food was food. He did a few more exercises - not as much as he wanted, but there wasn't too much time. He got up and went to the sheriff's room.
Abed was already sitting and eating the porridge with a spoon, and another bowl, full of the white stuff, waited in front of the sheriff's chair. Annie faced the window behind the chair, her back to him. Jeff wore his holster belt and his pistol, and only then sat down to eat - all without a word.
"Please speak," Abed said. "It makes my hairs stand on end when you two are silent like that. Like my parents are fighting again."
"We're not your parents, Abed," Jeff murmured with a mouth full of porridge. He was hungry, and the mixture slid easily down his throat.
"No, but I understand what you mean, Abed." Annie said from the window.
He heard her turn to him, but continued to eat.
She sighed. "I will speak, since it turns out I have to speak first."
Jeff hummed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to change your life so much. I know you were happy with the way it was before I complicated it with my stuff, and I-"
"That's not true," Jeff said. "I'm not sorry you changed my life."
"Yes but- fine, that's not the point. The point is I changed your life without asking you. And yes, I tend to decide for both of us while thinking I know what's best, and I'm sorry I made you feel like your opinion doesn't matter, because it does. It's important for me to know what you think. I was also made aware that I am not always right. Even, one might say, that I'm often wrong."
He grumbled under his breath that she wasn't wrong that much.
"I think you're a smart man. And I appreciate your thoughts and your advice. And I understand why you chose a duel. It only endangers one person, and the possible outcome is the best of all options."
That was exactly right.
"So I understand why you want to do this, but I come, with subservience and humility, with a reconciliation gift, to ask you not to do it. That you go out there and cancel the duel. Because I can not endure the thought that this man will shoot you. I Ask for me, and for me alone. Because I don't want to live without you, no matter what life that will be. And how to deal with the bandits... we will figure it out later."
He pushed the sheriff's chair and turned to her, pulling her into his arms. Annie snuggled to him, burying her face in his chest. "Please," she murmured. "Think about it."
"The time to think is almost up," Jeff sighed, putting his cheek on her head. "I have to get out there and face him."
Abed stood up and said, "I'm going to check if he's here," and left the room, leaving them alone.
Jeff didn't want to move anywhere, to do anything, just keep standing and hugging Annie in his arms, absorbing the heat of her small body and huge belly. His woman. His wife. The mother of his expected child. He loved her so much. He will do everything for her...
He loved her.
Wow, that was a bad time to realize this.
Crap.
Crap, crap, crap.
He needs to go out now and shoot Stephen, but the more he thought about it, the less confident he was in his ability to be faster and more accurate than Stephen. He wasn't as young and agile as he used to be, and even if he was - well, he was agile, but he was still recovering from an injury and he slept badly last night. He was far from at his best.
And Annie softly asked him not to do it, because she didn't want to live without him.
He didn't want to live without her, so he understood.
Dammit to hell, what was he going to do?
He pulled away from her, grabbed her face with both hands and leaned over to kiss her sweetly. Annie melted beneath him, giving herself to his kiss, and he wondered again how he had missed that he loved her, when every fiber and trace in his body stood up and cheered that this was the best place to be - with Annie.
Maybe because he was too busy vehemently denying that love exists.
But it was hard to deny in these moments how he felt about her.
"Jeff," Abed has returned. "The sun has risen, it's eight o'clock in the morning, and Stephen James is standing in the town square calling for you. It's time to go."
Jeff groaned, laying his forehead on Annie's. Her eyes were closed. She didn't ask him again, but he knew what she was thinking: Don't do it. Please, don't put yourself in harm's way.
"To hell with it," Jeff said quietly. Annie opened her eyes in surprise and pulled away from him.
"Jeff?"
"I have to go." He stepped back from her. There was no time, he had to go face Stephen.
Abed stopped him just before he left. "Whatever you do, promise you will tell him 'this town isn't big enough for both of us.'"
"Abed," Jeff put his hand on the boy's shoulder, looked into his eyes and said, "No."
He wore the brown sheriff's hat as he left the office, and walked briskly to the town square.
As soon as he saw the man standing on the other side of the square, he slowed down to a measured walk.
The sun illuminated Stephen who stood in the middle of the dusty road, wearing the same white cowboy hat he wore the previous night. His belt had two holsters, one on each thigh, and each had a pistol in it. "Jeff Winger," he called out. "I started to think you chickened out and decided not to show up!"
Out of the corner of his eye Jeff saw Abed rushing after him with a notebook and pen, and people standing in the windows and porches: they had an audience.
Stephen lowered his hands to the sides of his body, his fingers twisting in the air, preparing to seize the weapon, and Jeff knew he had to act fast if he didn't want Stephen to shoot him where he stood. The man seemed to be ready to skip the traditional countdown and just shoot.
Jeff narrowed his eyes at his opponent, who was smiling like an oil-slick snake, and Jeff could feel the whole town holding its breath in anticipation.
He pondered one last time whether he was confident of his choice.
He was sure.
"I come in peace," Jeff called, raising his open hands in the air.
Stephen froze for a moment, then straightened, laughing. "You know it's too late to join us, don't you?"
"I didn't come to join you," Jeff called back. "But I'm not going to duel with you. I hereby cancel my participation. Look, I'm not gonna touch my gun," he pointed to the holster.
"Ha! You can't just- wait, let me think about it," Stephen rubbed his smooth chin.
"I'm cancelling the duel." Jeff thought about it, and the truth was he didn't have a single plan in mind, but he remembered Annie's words - the option that the bandits gave them at least allowed them time to think. "We will collect all the money until tonight, and put in one place, for your convenience."
"Are you sure you don't want to fight me?" Stephen said with a smile. "You know, I thought it was pretty symbolic - you and I, the old versus the new... and all that."
"You are not my enemy," Jeff said. "I have nothing against you." On second thought he added, "Except for bringing bandits into my town, of course. But I have nothing against you personally. We were friends. I don't want to kill you, Stephen."
"Too bad," Stephen shrugged. "I was actually looking forward to adding this to my resume - The Man Who Defeated Jeff Winger." He sighed. "But I'll settle for all your money, honestly."
"Good," Jeff grumbled, before raising his voice: "Tell Rogue Bill that by midnight his money will be ready! Come meet me in my office."
Stephen hopped on his horse, nodded at Jeff, and galloped out of town.
Jeff breathed a sigh of relief, but this was just a postponement of the end.
What are they going to do now?
:::
As soon as Jeff returned to the sheriff's office with Abed and told Annie what he had done, Abed pointed at each of them and said, "at Shirley's in two hours? At Shirley's in two hours?" And after they both nodded, he left the office and ran to tell the news to... people. Jeff wasn't sure who.
At ten in the morning the odd group in the inn's parlor turned out to be comprised of the mayor and his sister Mrs Dart, Miss Rachel Duncan, Troy and Brita, Andre and Shirley, and Pierce.
"What's he doing here?" Jeff hissed.
Annie put her hand on his arm, in a gesture that usually calmed him. "He owns most of the capital in town. He deserves to be here."
"Mr. Winger," said Miss Dart, "I hope you will soon explain to us what has happened and what we are doing here."
"Yes!" the mayor repeated with gusto, slapping the back of the couch with the gloves he was holding. "What the hell is going on in my town?"
Jeff stood by the fireplace and looked at all the people in the room, that he wasn't sure why they were there. At least he liked most of them.
He decided on the abbreviated version of events. "Yesterday I invited the bandits to a duel this morning. This morning I canceled the duel. Currently the bandits expect us to collect all the money from the townspeople and find one place - preferably outside the town - to put the money in. I told Stephen James-"
"That nice man?" The mayor exclaimed.
"-To meet me at the sheriff's office at midnight tonight. We have until tonight to come up with an alternative plan to defeat the bandits, or start gathering the money."
Miss Dart told her brother, "If I understood correctly, Stephen James is working with the bandits."
"Yes," Jeff nodded. "I gathered you all here because I have no blasted idea what to do about the bandits. And I don't want to give them even one lousy penny."
"Wait," the mayor said, "you know Mr. James? But he seemed so pleasant! I thought we're going to have a great collaboration with him..."
"He tricked you," Jeff said dryly. "He wanted to get more money out of you after the raid, but because I know him and know his method, he had to give up that plan."
Miss Dart asked, "And how, Mr Winger, do you know his method?"
Nobody said a thing, but everyone looked at him.
Jeff's tongue went dry. He told Annie and Troy most of the story last night, and Abed in short, but... now he stood in front of everyone and didn't want to say it again. It was too embarrassing, standing in front of them and telling to their faces that he lied to them.
Annie saved him when she said, "Jeff is a repentant criminal."
Shirley said, "he brought the bandits to our town in the great raid, ten years ago."
"But at the last minute he changed his mind," Brita pointed at Shirley, "because of Mrs Bennett."
Troy explained, "Shirley showed Jeff what it means to be selfless, and he decided to save her!"
Abed said, "and he used to hang out with Stephen and the bandits, so he knew about the duel law and also about the way that bandits think."
And finally, it was Rachel Duncan who said: "But he didn't tell anyone the real story until yesterday, because they would hate him and he would lose the town he loves and his true friends."
Jeff looked at them in astonishment, and he wasn't the only one. Pierce, the mayor, and Miss Dart also stared wide-eyed.
Miss Dart said, "I gather y'all have already had a small meeting?"
Abed answered. "No, but there were a lot of conversations between yesterday and today. Everyone got posted up to date."
Jeff wet his lips and looked at the people around him, trying to understand their expressions. "Aren't you... mad at me?"
Annie was sitting on the couch, but she reached out to grab his hand. "It seems they aren't, Jeff. But maybe it's time to apologize."
"Oh," he nodded. Yes, she's probably right. He glanced at the room full of his friends - not including Pierce - and said, "I'm sorry. For the lies. And for the bandits. Ten years ago, and now."
"You don't have to apologize for the bandits of now," Troy said, "but in any case, I reckon everyone forgives you, don't they?"
Everyone (including Pierce) answered that yes, they forgave him. Jeff's throat was somewhat tight, and after many years of living in fear of his past ever coming to light, a huge, spiky weight fell off his shoulders.
"Okay," Miss Dart said. "This was rather... touching. I think. But we might want to address the more urgent issue now."
Everyone present agreed with her, and Miss Dart continued, "What are we going to do with the bandits?"
"Well..." Jeff opened.
:::
"...I don't have a plan," Jeff said. "Ten years ago I was able to gather the men of the town to fight, but then there were many more men, and most of them had some kind of weapon. Now we have... how much was it, Troy?"
"Five men who can fight," Troy said. "Jeff, me, Abed, Andre, and Kyle James."
Annie recalled the scene she witnessed about a month ago. She said quietly, "Kyle ran away from the army. I don't think he would want to fight."
"Oh, alright," Troy nodded. "But I forgot that we also have the mayor, don't we?"
The mayor raised his head from his occupation at that moment - a careful folding of his gloves and arranging them in his jacket pocket - and said quickly: "Ummm..."
Miss Dart said, "My brother prefers not to fight."
"Alright," Troy counted on his fingers and raised four fingers. "Four who can fight." He glanced at Andre, and the man nodded. "Yes, four."
"That's what I'm saying," Jeff shook his head. "We're not going to fight because we are not enough. Four or even five aren't equivalent to fifty armed bandits, even if we had the element of surprise. The only thing that can help us is if we had some trick, some ace we could hide up our sleeve, to use against them. So this is what we need: a ploy they can't expect. And we need to think about it quickly and promptly go out to do it, because we have until midnight - the time they expect to meet with me in the sheriff's office. Which means…" he looked at the old clock above the fireplace, "That we have thirteen and a half hours."
Abed pulled out a notebook. "Start discussing."
As the participants gave different ideas, Annie watched Jeff only intervene occasionally to disqualify a given idea. The more they talked, the more she realized how bad their situation was. They had few weapons, there was no place where they could hide to ambush the bandits, and any attempt to train more people to fight was fundamentally futile, because real training required months, and they had half a day. She couldn't help but feel that she was to blame for the situation they found themselves in. Had she not stopped Jeff this morning, he could have gotten rid of the bandits by now.
Or he could have been dead.
Pierce said to Jeff, "Why didn't you call the governor's forces?"
Jeff's arms were folded over his chest defensively. "I sent letters to whoever I could. I received a reply only from the governor, who said that unfortunately he has no forces. All the men capable of fighting were drafted into the Mexican war. We're alone."
"Harrumph," Pierce said. "If I were to send the letter..."
"Then what?" Jeff asked, and Annie heard in his voice how close he was to strangling Pierce, "they would have produced policemen from thin air just because the loaded Pierce Hawthorne asked nicely?"
"Jeff," Annie murmured. Be kind. She stood up and told Pierce, "Could you maybe have extraneous weapons in the saloon? Maybe..." Her eyes widened and she fell silent.
Pierce had a weapon.
"What is it?" Jeff asked her, glancing between her and Pierce. "What weapons does he have? What..." he inhaled sharply. "Annie, you're a genius!"
The entire room looked at them now, trying to figure out what they were talking about.
"I know!" Annie grasped his shoulder with a grin, realizing what they had all this time. "A ploy they can't expect! A deadly weapon!"
"It's crazy, but it just might work! And all thanks to our Pierce!" Jeff turned to Pierce and patted him on the back. The old man fell forward by the hit, and grabbed Jeff's hand. "Thanks to me? What do you mean? Someone explain to me what the hell they're talking about!"
Annie told him, smiling wide, "We're talking about your black powder."
Pierce immediately denied having anything illegal like that, but Jeff ignored it and said, "Did you take the powder out of the mine like I asked you to do? Or is it still there?"
The white-haired man squirmed for a minute before agreeing to admit he had transferred the black powder to a pit just outside the mine.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jeff announced to the room, "We have piles of gunpowder. And an abandoned mine that Pierce has no intention of opening. I suggest..."
Abed jumped in: "That we seduce the bandits into the mine and then blow it up on them!"
After that it was a matter of how much, who and when, but twenty minutes later, under the guidance of Miss Dart who was good at creative navigation, they had a plan.
Annie sat on the couch in the middle of all the hustle and bustle, with one hand on her stomach, next to the mayor who didn't really find his place in all the planning, and listened.
Shirley went to make food for everyone, and Brita helped her. Rachel Duncan wrote down the plan - she wrote very fast and her handwriting was clearer than Abed's. She also wrote what was the role of everyone.
Andre brought a wide sheet to spread out on the table, and huddled with Troy and Abed around Jeff that explained how to make bombs from the powder and how to blow them up. Pierce went to get a map of his mine, and a carriage that could accommodate them all.
Jeff started talking, but Troy stopped him and looked in Annie's direction. "Mayor, you can also hear Jeff's instructions. We could use another pair of hands."
Mr. Pelton turned in surprise. "Me? Really?" He looked at Miss Dart, who was going through the plan with Rachel, and only when she gave him a nod he jumped off the couch and happily joined the men around the big sheet. Jeff started drawing.
Annie wasn't assigned any role, and the truth was, after her sleepless night she didn't mind sitting quietly for some time and watching other people work. And the baby stretched inside her, pushing knees and hands everywhere. She allowed herself to hope.
This might work.
:::
"Is there another exit to the mine?" Jeff asked when Pierce came back with the maps.
"Yes," Pierce pointed out, "but it's on the other side, and without light it's almost impossible to find. In any case, I have a lock."
"So I suggest we only collapse the entrance," Jeff said. "We can imprison them inside, and hand them over to the authorities, once they arrive."
"You said they wouldn't come!" Pierce accused.
"Not the army or police forces, but we can ask the prisons to send people. Anyway, because everyone will be imprisoned inside, we will have time to wait as long as we need to."
Abed said, "Jeff, starving them inside until the jailers arrive is as cruel as collapsing the mine on them."
"Do you got any better ideas?"
"No, but I felt it had to be said."
Pierce said, "What do you care what happens to them? We're living in the Wild West! Let them rot!"
Abed gave Pierce a sharp look. "People like you is the reason why they call us the 'Wild West.' We're not barbarians, you know! If you prick a bandit, does he not bleed? If you tickle a bandit, does he not laugh?"
Pierce scratched the cleft in his chin. "Why would I tickle a bandit?"
"If you poison a bandit, does he not-"
Jeff intervened before Abed finished the entirety of The Merchant of Venice. "Abed, you can ask the women to think of a solution." He glanced at Annie, who was nodding off on the couch. He smiled despite himself. She didn't sleep last night, let her sleep.
Abed gave Pierce a menacing look that affected the old man like feathers on a mountain. Abed spinned, flaring his coat wings, and went to talk to the women, who were going over the plan on the other side of the room.
"Boss," Troy said, "do you want me to take a horse to deliver a letter to the closest prison?"
"You're needed here," Jeff shook his head. "It could've worked, if we had more people. If the telegraph wasn't one-sided, then we had something to talk about…"
Pierce mused, "actually I got installed the part that sends the telegrams a few days ago."
Jeff turned to him sharply, trying very hard not to hit his stupid face. He hissed, "Why didn't you say something before? We could use it!"
Pierce shrugged. "I forgot about it."
Troy jumped to hold Jeff's arms before he could pounce on Pierce, saying in a high pitched, stressed voice, "Pierce, go send a telegram to the state jail authorities now! Now!"
"Are you sure, Mr. Barnes? Is it really that urgent-"
"Now, old man!"
Troy only released Jeff when Pierce closed the door behind him, grumbling that he wasn't old and that young people these days were so rude.
Jeff leaned against the table, panting. "That bastard…" he rubbed his face and reminded himself that the saloon owner wasn't worth his temper.
Troy went back to examining the sketch of the bomb Jeff had drawn on the table. "I think I got everything. Just…" he hesitated. "I'm not sure I got how we persuade all the bandits to enter the cave... why would they enter an abandoned mine? That's a pretty clear trap, isn't it?"
"We'll pull them by the nose," Jeff said, scratching his stubble. "If you know what will distract a particular person, you can control what they see."
That was true, but it was very difficult. While he was a professional stinger, he was proud of his ability to guide the conversation with anyone however he liked, but it had been a long time since he had played this game, and he admitted to himself - even if not to Troy - that their chances were slim. He had fanciful explanations that he could tell Bill and Stephen, and he could invent more if the need arose, but in the end it was a matter of stalling for time and giving enough distractions so that the opponent would look the other way at just the right moment.
Everything depended on it.
He looked up from the table, and caught Troy glancing longingly at Brita, as she walked outside with Rachel for their part in the operation. Jeff blurted before he could stop his mouth: "The gods smiled at you after all, when they stopped your wedding."
Troy just rolled his eyes, in a gesture that was so similar to Brita that Jeff had to laugh.
"You know it's strange," Abed said from his other side.
"What's strange?"
"That you say 'gods' in plural. We live in a modern American town. We're all monotheists here."
Jeff shrugged. "That's something I used to say many years ago. I would joke that my gods were silver, gold, and whiskey."
Abed said, "Hm. Very cynical."
"Well, at the time cynicism was my middle name."
"When you were a lawyer?" Troy asked. "Wait, no... you were a bandit."
"I worked as a lawyer, Troy, only I wasn't qualified."
"And you cheated your clients."
Abed tilted his head in interest. "I didn't hear that part."
"I've only done it once or twice," Jeff grumbled. "Most of my clients got adequate representation, and most won. I lied to them only about my certificate." He remembered why he hadn't told them about it all this time, and now he'd never live it down until he satisfied their curiosity. "Then Stephen introduced me to Dirty Bob, and I started working with him."
Abed said, "about my questions..."
Jeff groaned.
"I have forty-two questions now, but at the moment I actually only have one."
"Fine," Jeff surrendered. One question won't be so bad.
"Why did you change your mind?"
"It was because of Shirley..." Troy answered before him. "Huzza, Shirley!"
"No, not back then - today. When you decided to cancel the duel. I looked forward to it. It's great material for the newspaper..."
Jeff glanced at Annie on the couch, and saw that she was lying down, covered with one of Shirley's blankets. She breathed quietly, and Jeff wondered how he was so blind to the light emanating from her, even as she slept.
"Annie asked me," Jeff said, his voice barely audible, even to his ears. "And I love her."
When he finally turned away his eyes, Abed took a bill out of his pocket and handed it to Troy.
Troy beamed. "Yes! I told you, boss!" To Abed he said, "Why are you giving me money?"
"It's acceptable in moments like this," Abed said, "although I'm not clear on the details."
"I don't need your money!"
"Think of it as an early wedding gift."
"Fine, if you insist…" Troy took the bill and shoved it into his pocket with a shrug.
There was a yawn from the couch, and Jeff saw Annie stretching, turning to look at them from her lying position. He left the guys for their antics, and walked over to her, kneeling in front of the couch.
"What's the time?" Annie murmured.
"It's one. We're going out to sort out the bombs and the other things."
"Now?"
"In a bit." He caressed her cheek. "Sleep any good?"
"I dreamed the mine exploded and turned into gold. I don't know if it's a good or bad dream."
Jeff didn't know what to tell her.
Annie murmured, "Jeff, the duel was dangerous for you, but… this plan is also dangerous. For the whole town. Because if it fails… If we mess any of the steps of the plan, Rogue Bill will be furious and raid the town in revenge for trying to blow him up. What if we mess it up? What if we don't win this one?"
Annie could worry, but he couldn't afford such thoughts. He grabbed her hand in his and told her, "I won't let it happen. We will win, Annie. For us. For the baby. I promise."
He'll do anything to keep Annie from going hungry. Or the baby. He didn't dare to imagine the worse things that could happen if they failed.
Annie smiled, a small, trembling, but consistent smile. "You've been able to keep your promises in the past. Alright, I believe you."
"You just stay here and rest, little one. Take care of our baby."
"Alright." She was still drowsy, and as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, her eyes fluttered and closed again. I love you, Annie. He thought for a moment of waking her up, telling her the words, seeing the look in her eyes. He didn't know how she would react, but she would probably not be mad.
Unless she'll be very mad.
Her hand lax in his palm, he let himself look at her one last time, and stood up.
"Let's go, guys."
When he sat in Pierce's carriage with the others, he tried not to think about it too much, but it was like preventing a thirsty horse on a hot day from drinking from the lake. If we don't win this, we're back to the worst option. If we don't win this... we lose everything.
:::
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AN: We're so close to the end… only two more to go.
Sorry, still no love declaration. But at least now Jeff is aware of his feelings. The man is slow sometimes.
I love it when the whole gang is together! Pierce escaped certain death at least twice XD
Writing notes: I thought about the mine as a solution for the bandits before I imagined anything else after Jeff comes back from war, and so the mine plot was born. And then I needed to have enough chapters between the "mine date" and Stephen so it wouldn't be the obvious solution for the problem ("You have black powder, just blow them up, you fool!") and I think I managed it. I wanted the reader to realize it at the same time our heroes realize it. That's my two cents on story building - sometimes you need to construct it backwards...
*Reviewers* are wonderful human beings and should be regularly applauded, lest they forget how great they are! Much love from my corner of the world. In times like this we need some stability, which is why it's important to me to update in time.
Next up: Greendale vs. the bandits. Who will win?