Sorry this has taken so long, but you all know how life is, and now I get to deal with looking up prices for children's Bibles for my Sunday school class as Easter presents. It's going to be fun. Name change, if anyone didn't notice. Puma no longer writes so I decided to take over, but I left her stories still posted. Any way, on to the story.
Deeper Secrets chapter eleven: Things to Rest
Remy couldn't sleep that night. He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling from the cot. Thoughts of Ro ran wild in his mind. From the first day they met, her standing on the steps, the little pistol strapped to her ankle. He knew from that moment he had wanted to get close to her. Wanted to know her. Memories of walking in on her in the tub that night haunted him. How she had told him to leave or wash her back. The warmth of her creamy skin; he had never felt skin so soft. Her eyes, dull when he had first arrived, now bright and sad. 'God, Remy, why couldn't you keep from getting close?' he asked himself, scolding himself for not being strong; for letting his guard down.
The guard snored again, louder this time. Remy knew if he wanted to he could pick the lock and get out of town. 'Too much to lose, ol boy,' he thought, and of course, they had removed the hidden set of lock picks from him. The whole squadron had known he was a "good" lock pick. They never knew he had been a "master" at an early age. He hadn't thought to bring his back up picks, but he hadn't planned on running into Normington, who was sleeping on a nice bed at the hotel under a warm blanket.
Thinking of that reminded him of his bed at the plantation. 'It's not your bed, son,' he scolded, but it didn't work. His thoughts ran to the night of the flood. She had drug him into the house and up the stairs. Had rested beside him on the floor, trying to warm his frozen body. Then they had fallen on the floor, and eventually he had set her on the bed. When she had called out his name, and he had turned around to her outstretched hand. He knew if her took that petite hand he would never want to leave, and he didn't.
'Even if you had your backups ya'd give them up jus' t'stay wit her.' His consciences was right. He had to try and make everyone understand. He wasn't the killer, the traitor. The man he shot had been. He had to find that bag. The sun light broke through the barred window, striking his ruggedly handsome face. They had to understand.
Ro awoke, still in Remy's room, still in his shirt, and still missing. She could feel the warmth from his shirt, though it was nothing compared to his arms wrapped around her. So strong and soft. Safe. That's how she felt. Safe in his arms, next to him. So he had a dangerous past, she still felt safe.
She turned to lay on her stomach, her hands running under the pillows. She felt something hard under the pillow to her left. Pulling it out, she studied the little black leather pouch. She unzipped it, revealing several small metal tools.
"Picks? What would he need those for?" She thought about it for a minute. 'Of course,' she thought, then aloud said, "He said he got what he needed from the stores. He never said he paid for them. That's how he has so much money. That an' army paychecks. He's a thief." She laughed. "What gave you the first clue, girl? The wade of cash or the fact that he stole your heart?" She laughed again, not at the answer, but at the fact that she was talking to herself.
The sun was up, work needed to be done. She climbed out of bed and went back to her room upstairs. There, she laid the tin-type on her night stand, the leather pouch next to it, and grabbed the shirt, donning it before she left.
Outside Jeffery and the others were hard at work. She didn't stop for breakfast, just headed straight to the stable. Inside, she noticed the horses hadn't been fed, neither had Delta and the calf. She measured out what each horse ate, threw some grain in to Delta and Delta Dawn, then carried buckets of water in to each stall. When finished she stopped and stroked each horses' muzzle, staying longer on the Roan's. Then she stopped at Ace, all the way at the front next to the hay.
She stared the horse in the face, remembering how she had felt when Joseph had given him to her. Her first horse. Deciding on what she should do, she led Ace from his stall and tied him to the hitching post. She quickly, but skillfully tacked him up.
"Sorry, boy. Breakfast will have to wait." She led him out then stopped. "Ah'm sorry...for all these years. It wasn't your fault. Ah shouldn't've blamed ya." The horse nuzzled under her arm, forgiving her. "Alright then. Let's put things to rest." And she rode off, first to find Jeffery, then on to face her past.
"Morning, captain. Sleep well?" Normington asked as he relieved the guard for the time being.
"Not that you really care, General. I would have rather liked to be back at the plantation on my nice, soft feather bed," Remy snapped back, still laying on his back, hands behind his head.
"You're right. I don't care. We'll be leaving shortly. Here are your things, except for the picks."
"Why thank you, John." Normington gave him a look. "Since I'm probably going to die anyway, what does it matter?" he mocked, donning his vest and duster. He felt inside the pockets for his gloves and found something. The scarf. He had stashed it in his pocket? He must have. Looking at the scarf, holding it, reminded him of holding her. Carrying her into the wash room, undressing her in the tub full of ice. He had tried to be a gentleman then. It was his hardest fight yet. Holding her head up the whole night. His arm went numb at the memory.
"Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, LeBeau, but we do have a trial to get to."
"We do, don't we, mon ami," he said placing the scarf around his neck. The pick frilly thing looked out of place. Had it been another color than soft pink and yellow, it might have matched.
"Lovely," Normington teased.
"Thanks," Remy retorted back.
"Hands." Normington opened the cell door, and clapped the irons on Remy. "No funny business."
"I'm not the Joker, mon ami," he said with a smile. The two left the jail, Normington leading Remy.
"On the horse, Captain." Remy obeyed and mounted. "I thought you didn't like horses, LeBeau?"
"I rode in the race, did I not?" he said from atop the horse. "What about the money?"
"We're heading over to the livery first. You can make your plea, then we leave. No matter the turnout."
"At least I get one fair trial," he stated as they headed over to the livery. Remy gracefully dismounted as though he didn't have on irons.
"Mornin', Mr. LeBeau. Congratulations on the race. What can I do for you sirs?" the blacksmith said addressing first Remy then both men.
"I'm here to talk about the race."
"What about it?" Mr. Carpenter asked as he worked on a horse's hoof, cleaning it.
"You put it on?" He shook his head. "That money, you know I've been arrested."
"That doesn't matter, Mr. LeBeau. I knows you a good man. Don't care 'bout your past neither. You've been good to Miss Ro."
"That money, I raced to win it for Ro. She need dat money." He was sounding like his old self now. "Can you give her dat?"
"We've never had a winner get arrested. Seeing as how you won the money," he dropped the hoof and stared at Remy, "it's yours to do with."
"Can you make sure Ro gets it. With this," he said handing him a small note. He had written it the night before.
"Sure thing, Mr. LeBeau," Carpenter agreed taking the slip of paper.
"Please,...Remy."
"Sure thing, Remy. She'll get it," he said clapping him on the shoulder.
"Thank you, mon ami. Thank you," and he walked out and back to Normington.
"Satisfied?" Remy just shook his head and remounted the horse. "Men, saddle up. We're heading out." Normington and his men mounted up. They headed south out of town, passing by everything and everyone. The mayor stepped out and Normington stopped.
"Thank you, Mayor Webster, for your cooperation."
"Always glad to help put a criminal in his place, General Normington. Safe journey to ya." Normington nodded and they continued on their way.
Ro found Jeffery in the north field. "Hey, Jeffery."
"Hi, Miss Ro. Feeling better?" He set down the rack.
"Ah don't know. Ah really don't. Now anymore."
"See you're riding Ace again," he said eyeing the mount.
"Yeah." She looked down at the horse. "Figured it was time."
"Time for a change?" Jeffery questioned.
"Time to move on. Ah'll be back. Somethin' Ah got t'do."
"You go on now. Don't worry 'bout nothing here," he said petting the horse's neck. She started to ride away when he said, "I be prayin' for you Ro. You an' Remy." She gave him a smile back and rode on. Empowered for her task.
An hour or more later, Ro arrived at her destination. She approached the iron fence, slowly she dismounted from Ace, tying him up, and entered the sacred area.
"Hi, Joseph. It's been a while since our last visit. Ah shoulda come sooner. Ah guess Ah'm still getting over ya being gone. Ah brought ya flowers. Lilies like you like. Ace is here too." She was crying now, hard. "Joseph, Ah've met someone. He's made me feel alive again. The only thing wrong is...Ah'll never see him again. Ah should've told him how Ah felt before it was too late. Ah need to get on with my life, Joseph. Ah still love you, but Ah need to move on." She placed the flowers on the grave and stood back. "Ah'll never forget you." She kissed two fingers and laid them on top of the headstone. "Goodbye." Quickly, before the emotions could take over, she mounted Ace and rode off. Away from where they had first met. Away from where they had said goodbye.
The sun was high when the company of soldiers stopped for lunch. The cook made a quick meal of beans and already made cornbread. The general sat with his men, eating, talking and laughing at stories. They would need to be moving on soon for they had a long way to go.
Alone, tied to a tree sat another soldier, once a captain and beloved member. His wrists were bound with irons as were his ankles. There was a large rope binding him to the oak behind him. He was immobilized, but even if he had the chance to escape, he wouldn't take it. To comply would be the thing that would set him free. To get him back to her. He knew this was going to be a long trip. All the way down, find the bag, then go back to Ro. She was what was going to get him through this. It may be a month or more before he saw her again, but he would.
Ro made it back to the farm, tears stopped and dried. She joined the others in the field and helped with the work. Hours later, they all returned to the house for lunch. When most were done eating, and several had asked about Remy, she stood on the top step, waved her hands to get their attention and spoke.
"Several have come to me an' asked about Remy, the man who's been stayin' with us. Yesterday in town, Remy ran into some old friends. He had to leave with them."
"Will he b'comin' back, Miss Ro?" someone called out.
"No. Ah'm afraid we'll never see him again. Jeffery will give out the rest of the day's orders. Thanks."
It had been an hour since night had fallen when they stopped for camp. A small fire was built, the sleeping bags were thrown down and the men went to sleep. Remy didn't sit by the fire. He stayed in the shadows still in his irons. It was cold, but he no longer belonged in that circle. He was believed a traitor, a murderer. He had been their captain, comrade, friend, brother for many years, he had trusted them to point he hadn't others, not until Ro. He had led them into battles and out, rescued those that were wounded by himself, risking all. He thought they had trusted him, accepted him. 'Seems da only one dat trusted you was da one dat shouldn't've,' he thought to himself.
"Hate to interrupt your thoughts again, mate. Just thought you should know, you have about two weeks to live."
"I get the trial first, mon ami. Best not forget dat." Normington was quiet for a moment.
"What's with the scarf, LeBeau? I never figured you for the feminine look," he teased half serious, and tossed him a biscuit. He tossed it back.
"It's none of your business, Normington."
"If my guess is correct, that woman gave it to you." He sent Remy and evil look, and Remy sent it right back. "You actually have feelings for her, don't you, Gambit?" Remy glared at him. "The famous killer-for-hire actually has feelings. That must be the discovery of the century. When could a man like you ever develop feelings?"
"When he realizes the life he's living isn't right," Remy spat.
"And what, pray tell, Gambit, caused you to realize this?" Normington was crouched low in front of Remy.
"The last couple of weeks I've lived a completely different life." Normington motioned for him to continue. "A life where I didn't have to fight to live. Or kill. A life I once told you I wanted after making my confession to you."
"A life you see yourself living for the rest of your life." Normington stood, "If you get the chance." He turned his back and started to walk away, not wanting to remember the past.
"I'm innocent, John. Just like your father. I can prove it."
End chapter 11. 12 coming. Lots of unanswered questions in this chapter. Guess you'll just have to keep reading. The next chapter is called "Let Freedom Ring" wonder what that means.
