This chapter is brought to you by hotel complimentary wifi. I decided it was best to run and hide for this chapter... Kidding! I'm apartment hunting for college. Running and hiding is just a bonus.

Chapter 18: Sorrow

The doctor said it was her heart. An irregular pulse, and one that couldn't manage stress or an elevated heart rate. He said a lot of other medical nonsense, too, but Hosea got the gist. Her heart wasn't beating correctly, and now it had caused her to faint. She needed plenty of rest, but there was a high risk that her heart had become damaged, and a similar event could happen again. And if it happened again…

The doctor didn't need to continue. Hosea squeezed Bessie's hand, finally letting the tears fall as the doctor gave Hosea an apologetic pat on the shoulder and left the room.

"Oh, Bessie," he started, with no idea where to even take the sentence.

She gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand back. "I think it might be best to go back to Indiana," she said.

"Yeah," Hosea said, nodding. "Yeah, we can go. We'll go as soon as you feel up to it."

"I think I can lay in the back of a wagon while you drive," she joked. Hosea couldn't believe she was joking right now. "I want to see Amy. The ranch will be quieter, calmer. And if… when…"

"Don't say it. Please, just don't," Hosea said.

"Hosea, darling, I don't want to be buried alone in the woods, somewhere no one knows about."

"I know," Hosea said. "We'll move to the ranch. We can have our boys visit for a bit, too. It will be good for them." And good for Bessie.

"I'd like that very much," Bessie said.

Hosea leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "You rest. I'll let Arthur know what's going on."

Arthur was second to Bessie's side after she collapsed, helping carry her to the wagon that the others had hastily prepared. He drove, too, without anyone needing to ask. Seeing as Hosea wasn't capable of that at the time, or even now, he was grateful.

Arthur sat up as soon as Hosea walked out the building and asked, "She okay?"

"She's resting right now," Hosea said. "But she's far from okay, Arthur. She- she's-"

He collapsed into Arthur, weeping as the reality began to sink in. She was dying, his wife, his love for over a decade, the woman he believed he would spend the rest of his days with.

How many days did they have left? How many days could he go on alone?

Arthur didn't say a word. Surely, he was shocked, too, but holding it in for Hosea's sake. Finally, Arthur said, "Come on, let's get her home."

Arthur helped carry Bessie again, but this time she was simply exhausted, not terrified and in pain. Hosea tucked the blankets around her and under her as a pillow. "You warm enough, my dear?" he asked.

"Just fine."

"Comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be, I'm sure," she said.

"The doctor gave me something to help you relax, well, it's a sedative. Do you need it?" Hosea asked.

"Not yet, I don't think. Perhaps we should save it for the trip," Bessie sighed sleepily.

"Bessie, I don't want you to be in pain. We can always get more."

"I'm tired enough without it, darling." Bessie squeezed his hand, the grip weak, and let her eyes fall shut.

After a moment, Arthur asked, "What trip?"

"Indiana. She wants to go to Indiana. I'm going, too."

"Of course."

"And I was hoping that you and Isaac could join us for a bit. John, too, and Tilly."

"I'll be there, for as long as you need," Arthur said.

All heads turned to the wagon as soon as they returned to camp. Bessie was fast asleep, so they let her rest in the wagon a little longer. Arthur took Isaac by the hand, signaling for John and Tilly to follow, giving Hosea privacy to talk to Dutch while Susan sat with Bessie.

"You do what you have to do, Hosea," Dutch said after Hosea explained his plan to take Bessie back to the ranch.

"I want to bring our kids, too. For Bessie," said Hosea.

To that, Dutch frowned. "Why doesn't she stay here, if she wants to be with the boys? We can make sure she gets plenty of rest."

"First of all, this camp is loud and chaotic on a good day," Hosea said. "And second, she wants to be with her sister."

"We can always look into jobs near Indiana, so that we're close," Dutch began, but Hosea shook his head.

"I don't think it would be a good idea. I think it would cause more worries than we need," Hosea said.

"Arthur and Isaac can certainly accompany you to the ranch, but I need John here."

"Why?" Hosea asked.

"We need guns at camp, Hosea."

Hosea was dumbstruck. When he did manage to stammer a response, he said, "This is for my wife!"

"I get that. I do."

"Then why-"

"It just ain't possible right now."

"And what job does John need to be here for anyway? What could be so important? Because last I heard, we didn't have anything lined up."

"Why does John need to be in Indiana doing nothing while Bessie rests?"

"And this ain't just about rest, Dutch!"

It was a vigil.

Death had always been a tough subject for Dutch. If they planned enough or ran fast enough, they could pretend that death was avoidable for them. Dutch ignored the inevitability. Hosea was able to as well, at least for a while. But not anymore.

"Listen to me," Hosea said, breathing deep. "I don't know what's going on with you, and I know things are tense between you and Annabelle right now. But I have to be there for my wife, and I'm hoping you could understand and let me do what's best for her!"

Dutch dropped his head into his hands. "Of course," he said. "Of course. We can manage. Take the boys. Take Miss Tilly, if she wants to go."

Hosea ignored how Dutch turned his simple request into an act of charity. "Thank you. We'll be off soon, probably tomorrow if Bessie feels she can handle it."

Hosea left Dutch in his tent and made the rounds, informing their family about what happened and that Bessie would be leaving the camp. He couldn't bring himself to outright say it, but everyone understood the implication. She wasn't coming back. Even if resting did help and she didn't have another episode, camp life was too strenuous and stressful.

Arthur and John immediately agreed to come. Tilly was taken aback by the invite, perhaps because she was still new to the family, but she quickly agreed as well. Annabelle volunteered to go, too, and they all began to pack.

Susan spent the evening sitting with Bessie, helping regulate the visitors wanting to say their goodbyes through tears of her own. They left early in the morning, with Arthur and Annabelle alternating driving the wagon. They moved at a crawl. There were times, when Bessie's breathing seemed to slow under the heavy blanket of medication, that Hosea feared he had made a mistake. That moving her to Indiana was making things worse, that she might have had a chance of surviving otherwise. And his thoughts worsened each day as it took more and more effort to rouse Bessie for some food and water, her eyes more and more delirious and weary as they met his teary gaze. But they made it, Amy meeting them at the ranch entrance, having received their rushed telegrams.

And then there were more doctors, and more of the same news. That her heart had weakened. That she needed bed rest. The news was delivered the same way, too, with a pat on the shoulder and pity.

Amy wanted her reverend to come and pray with the family. Hosea sat silent while they did, holding Bessie's hand and letting the words bounce around his head. The words mocked him. They were of mercy, of health, of guidance in the face of hardship. Of forgiveness for any sins committed, so that Bessie could meet God in heaven. As if Bessie had ever done anything that would require mercy or forgiveness.

Hosea didn't say, "Amen," with the others. After all, what god would be so cruel as to take sweet, kind Bessie instead of a sinner like him?

Then, Bessie woke up.

She whispered his name, curled her fingers around his hand, and he cried. The others were overjoyed to see her, to talk to her, to offer their comfort and support. But her recovery from their travel didn't mean her health was improving, as the doctor kept reminding him. As if he couldn't see it himself.

The doctor imposed strict rules. No activity other than a short walk, with support and only if she felt up to it. No coffee, no cigarettes. Those increased the heart rate, the doctor claimed, and anything faster than her heart's resting rate was dangerous. Bessie accepted it, as if instinctively knowing that she'd crossed a limit there was no coming back from. Hosea wasn't sure he'd fair the same, if the positions were reversed.

And while he had no idea if it was helping, it certainly wasn't hurting. Hell, maybe it would help, and Bessie would get better. She seemed stronger on a few days. Could talk a little longer, smile a little wider. Not that she would ever be back to where she was, of course. Hosea was realistic, but there were days when he felt a small spark of hope that she would get better enough to where he didn't feel like she could slip away at any moment.

Other days, he wondered if he should call the reverend again.

On good days, Hosea was able to take notice of the others. Annabelle often sat and talked with Bessie, the two of them reading books and catching up on the local gossip. He overheard Bessie asking Annabelle about Dutch one day. "Let me guess, you think we should work it out," Annabelle said.

"Only if Dutch can get his act together," Bessie laughed tiredly. "I know you love him dearly."

"I do," Annabelle sighed. "Even though he's being an ass right now, I still do."

"But you need to tell him what's best for you, and either he can work with that, or he won't."

"You make it sound so easy," Annabelle said. "Not everyone gets someone like Hosea."

"You're right. I'm the luckiest woman in the world," Bessie said, if a little smug. "Now, then, let's figure out what you are going to say to that moron when you see him next."

Arthur took on most of the responsibilities around the house, though Annabelle made certain he wasn't sacrificing his own time with Bessie for the sake of the others. Isaac always visited with him, and Hosea's heart ached for the child, so close to losing the woman who had become a second mother only a few years after his first.

"Why can't she get better? It's not fair!" Isaac cried into Arthur's shoulder one morning. A private moment, one that Arthur and Annabelle had worked hard to keep Hosea and Bessie from seeing, one that he wouldn't have seen if Annabelle hadn't kicked him out to get a second of fresh air.

"I know," Arthur whispered into Isaac's hair, rocking him back and forth. "I know, I know. We don't get know how long our family will be with us, and it ain't ever fair."

"It should be fair," Isaac sobbed.

"I agree," Arthur said. "But we know it's coming now. So, we can make sure we're spending time with Bessie and taking care of her, okay? We can remember all the fun times we had, too. Remember when we went to that beach in California?"

Isaac sniffled and said, "Yeah."

"Bessie taught us how to make those sand castles. Said she learned how to do it as a kid at Lake Michigan, and always wanted to try it at the ocean, remember? We spent hours making it just right. And Copper destroyed it in two seconds!"

Isaac half-hiccupped and half-giggled, just a little. "He was chasing a seagull and it landed on our castle."

"Yep, and he was absolutely covered in sand. I had to throw him in the ocean. And then he went and rolled in the sand again!"

Isaac laughed more openly that time, but then stopped himself, almost guilty.

Arthur noticed, and said, "Hey, listen to me. It's okay to remember the happy times and laugh a little. We're sad enough most of the time. And you know what? I bet Bessie would laugh too if you told her that story."

"Really? Would that help?"

"I bet it would help a lot. Maybe we could make her some eggs, too, just like last time we were here."

"But that's breakfast food!"

"Ah, I think we can break a few rules once in a while. Have some breakfast for lunch." Arthur looked around the yard for something, and ended up spotting Hosea. He turned back to Isaac and said, "How about you run and get John and Tilly? We'll all make eggs together. It'll be more fun that way!"

"Okay," Isaac said, hopping off Arthur's lap and beginning his search for the others.

Arthur turned to Hosea, watching him carefully, but Hosea smiled through his leaking eyes. "When did you grow up so much?"

"I'm not sure," Arthur said. "I guess I had some good teachers."

Hosea wrapped his arms around Arthur, choking back sobs. "You had sand in your tent for weeks. You kept finding more and more of it."

"Every time Copper shook, it just fell out of him."

"Bessie and Susan kept complaining about your laundry," Hosea said. "I wish we had brought him along."

They decided to leave Copper back at camp, worried that the dog would cause problems during their slow travels. It was probably for the best, but they all missed having him, and his antics, around.

"You doing alright?" Arthur asked him.

"No."

"Want to make eggs with us?"

Hosea nodded.

Arthur remembered his cooking lessons, and Hosea was able to check in with the rest of the family. Tilly and John were struggling, too, but the family activity did brighten their spirits a little.

Bessie was awake when they brought in the plates, she was even propped up on a mountain of pillows. "Breakfast for lunch?" Arthur asked as he brought in the tray.

"Oh, what a good idea," she said. Her voice was weak and strained, but it couldn't hide her joy at seeing all of them. They ate and shared stories. Arthur and John got into arguments over whose fault certain incidents were, Isaac talked about the beach. Many of their stories were new to Tilly, and Hosea became worried that she would feel left out. But instead, she soaked them up, enjoying hearing about the adventures of her new family.

Eventually, they left to let Bessie rest. And she did, for a little. When she woke up a few hours later, Hosea was still at her side. She lifted her head at the sounds of their kids playing outside. She turned to Hosea and asked, "Could you help me to the porch, darling? For a bit of sun?"

"Of course!" he said, leaping to his feet. "Let me set up a chair outside, then I'll come get you."

Her arms shook as he held her, trying to keep her steps steady. But her smile made it was worth the effort, and it sparked a new hope in Hosea.

Briefly.

Hosea and Bessie watched as their kids and Annabelle ran around the yard, playing tag, all smiles and laughter after days of sadness and sorrow. "Today is a good day," Bessie said after watching for a while. "And I'm glad I'm able to spend it out here."

"Me, too," Hosea said, squeezing her hand.

"I'm not sure how many good days I have left," she admitted.

"Don't say that."

"Hosea-"

"Please, please don't," he begged her. "I don't want to think about this, not today. Not ever."

"But I do," Bessie said. "I have to. Because I can't ignore it, and I need to know that you'll be okay when I'm gone."

"How? How can I ever be okay?" he cried.

She brushed a tear out of his eye with her thumb, cupping his cheek. "I don't know. But please try. Because I love you. And I love Arthur, and Isaac, and John, and our new daughter, Tilly… our whole family," she said with a smile. "We raised some good ones, didn't we?"

"We did," Hosea said, wrapping an arm around her. "And I… I will try. I don't know how, but I'll try."

"Good," she said, leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder. "Can I ask you for one more favor?"

"Anything."

"When you remember these days, remember this one as the last," Bessie said.

"What?"

"I don't mean you should… forget the coming days," she continued. "Just rearrange it. So that when you look back, you think of this, the good day, not the bad."

Hosea didn't believe he'd ever be able to consider anything to be good from these last days, but for her? He could try.

"Thank you," she said when he told her, and she turned her eyes back to their kids, still leaning against him.

Bessie passed in her sleep four days later, in the early hours of the morning.

Hosea held her and screamed.

The days followed in a blur for Hosea. The arrangements. The attempted words of comfort. The funeral. He went through the motions listlessly.

They buried her under a tree on top of the hill, overlooking the ranch. Flowers were planted. Everyone mentioned what a pretty spot it was and how she would have liked it. As if they knew how she felt.

And then they went back to camp. To more condolences and platitudes. And soon the other gang members became wrapped up in jobs and chores. But Hosea couldn't. Her absence consumed him.

When Hosea couldn't deal with the loss any longer, he turned to drink.

And he was never able deal with it.