Author's Note:

I know it's been a dreadfully long time since I posted an Author's Note, perhaps 20 chapters, and I apologize. I want my readers to know how much I thank and appreciate them. It's been a pleasure sharing this story with you.

I want to specially thank my wonderful friend, pumpkinpuss, for sticking with me and encouraging me. Without you, I know this story wouldn't be up here. Thank you for helping me with my confidence.

Another issue of thanks goes to MrsLoDepp and Erica from DI. You guys are fantastic and I love your kind words.

My good friend, Emilie, thank you! You spend two hours reading this yesterday and I was just tickled and amazed and thankful. You're awesome (oh and I did correct the mistakes you found regarding Van Garret and Van Dan…my editing skills just shine through, don't they?).

Also thanks to anyone I forgot. I don't mean to forget you, but you have helped so much. You guys are just amazing.

On with the story! There's still quite a lot left. I hope you enjoy it!

CHAPTER 23

KATRINA'S RETURN

The day I hoped would never come came as quickly as I feared. When I heard the crisp clip-clop of horse hooves and the creaking of wooden wheels out front, I shut the cover of the hardback I had been reading with a nervous hand. After I returned the volume to its rightful place on the shelf, I slowly walked over to the window. I thought that by if moving slowly, I might be able to slow the passing of time as well. Peering out of the cold glass, I saw Ichabod helping Katrina out of a coach that appeared to have seen better days. Katrina wore a black and white striped winter dress with a mink muff as white and downy as the snow. The black stripes of her dress were the only part of her the silhouetted against the powdered earth. She had hardly placed a foot on the ground before she threw herself into Ichabod's arms and kissed him pleasantly on the cheek. Whispering something in his ear, Ichabod sincerely smiled and grabbed her bags from the cab. He escorted her up the walk and my heart twisted with jealousy. "He's so happy to see her," I mumbled aloud. That's it, I thought. We're over. My heart sank and tears burned my eyes, as I reluctantly had to force myself to face the realism of the situation.

"Yes, I'd imagine he'd be happy to see her," a voice bellowed from behind me causing my bones to leap from my skin.

"John!" I gasped turning around. "Wh-what are you doing here?" I questioned nervously.

"It was my duty to inform you that Mrs. Crane has returned," John grinned smugly and walked over to where I was standing. "You'd think they're in love," John said looking out at Ichabod and Katrina from behind the drapes.

"Why are you being to ignorant?" I questioned shortly. "A fool could see they're in love." That last statement parted my lips in a whisper. I had intended for it to be a lie because my heart was convinced Ichabod loved only me, but as I gazed at the two of them, I wasn't so sure.

"Thank you John," I finally said irritated. "You may leave now." John obliged willingly; pleased he had struck a nerve that would take a long time to heal.

Katrina's jovial laugh rang out in the foyer when they entered. Odd, I thought, for a woman whose aunt has just been laid to rest. But I entered the foyer with a grin on my face, and tried my best to appear optimistic. On the inside, though, I was trembling with fear. "Melanie!" Katrina greeted me with an embrace that made me want to recoil. Did she always have to be so, so cheerful? Her aunt just died for God sakes, and here she was hugging me like she hadn't seen me for decades.

"Melanie," Ichabod gestured to the luggage he had set by the door. "Could you?" he asked.

"Yes, of course." I said relieved Ichabod had given me an excuse to leave Katrina's unwanted presence. I took the bags and started to ascend the staircase.

"Just a moment," Katrina said. "You really don't have to tend to those yourself. I'm quite sure I can manage. Please forgive my husband's demanding temperament," she chuckled lightly and looked at Ichabod. "You must have worked like a slave while I was away."

"I could hardly consider your husband's requests demanding," I tried not to sound as offended as I felt, but still my cheeks flushed with a slight jolt of resentment. "Your husband was quite kind to me, you need not to worry," I forced my lips to form a reassuring smile.

"Very well," Katrina said. "Then I shall help you with my things." She followed me up the stairs, her black and white stripes gliding swiftly behind her. "We'll be not but a moment," she shouted down to Ichabod before she disappeared into the hallway.

"It's such a pleasure seeing your faces again," Katrina mentioned while I handed her her belongings from the deep crevasses of the suitcases. She bustled about the room, returning this to drawers, or hanging that in her wardrobe. "And I never imagined the day when I'd be so relieved to see color again," she looked admirably at the pale blue dress I was clad in and sighed when I handed her two black gowns, black fur adorning the collars and sleeves. "If I see another black dress, I'm going to scream," she stated bluntly holding one of the dresses against my slim figure. "Here, take them," she said throwing the two items of clothing into my arms. "I'll never wear them again, and they really do suit you."

"I really couldn't…" I tried to object.

"Nonsense," Katrina interrupted before I could finish. "Besides my husband wears enough black for the both of us." I suddenly felt like vomiting at the mention of Ichabod. This is his wife, I thought, staring at Katrina as she returned a few select pieces of jewelry to their box. His wife. My heart caught ablaze and a simple "thank you," was all I could say.

"She was ill for a long time," Katrina looked at me with saddened eyes and for a brief instant I felt a pang of penitence at my harsh feelings toward her. "It was just her time… and it'll be better for her this way." I didn't know what to say or do to comfort her, not that I wanted to, but I felt that I had to.

"It's hard, but everything will be just fine," I finally said realizing Katrina was still in mourning and perhaps struggled expressing her grief. "It's okay to cry," I whispered, but not as the Melanie who felt hatred for this woman, but as the Melanie who wanted to console this woman's weeping heart. I knew she'd do the same for me.

Katrina snuffled and nodded with a compelling grin on her face. "I know," she said. "How did you two fare here?" she asked in desperate attempt to change the subject. For a moment, it was as if I forgot how to speak, and I froze. "Um, fine." I finally replied. "It was fine." Katrina smiled warmly at me. She had been through so much these past couple of weeks, that she failed to notice the obvious nervousness in my voice. The conversation seized for several minutes as Katrina continued to sort through her belongings.

"John seems to really fancy you," she said abruptly, folding a pair of leggings.

"Pardon?"

"John; He seems rather attracted to you, wouldn't you say so?"

"I haven't noticed." I lied.

"Really? It's quite evident."

"What are you suggesting, Katrina?"

Katrina tried to compress a smile from her face. "It would be a smart match."

"You're serious?" I could hardly contain my laughter. But I must remain inconspicuous about things, I reminded myself. If I told Katrina I harbored no feelings toward John, she might suspect something between Ichabod and I. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

"Well, he is attractive," I reasoned.

"Try gorgeous." Katrina said with a grin on her face, but it was only rarely a man was considered "gorgeous." However, this be said, it was an honest statement. John was handsome, brawny, and charming.

My mind wondered back to the midst of October, although the day wasn't warm, I recalled the sweat gleaming bare back of John, his muscles rippling with every movement, as he worked fervently repairing a pasture fence. To any other woman, this sight could have caused a lead ball to sit heavily in the deepest pit of their stomach, but to me, it did nothing more than cause me take notice. My mind was far too love-ailing to think of any man other than Ichabod.

"Katrina!" I gasped, a hand flying to conceal my open mouth. "You're married!"

"I can still look, can I not?" she questioned blushing.

"I suppose it can't do any harm," I tried to sound averse, but you'd have to be blind or insane to not consider John at least attractive.

I closed the door behind me in a state of degradation, as my unfortunate soul hung so listless in my body. There was nothing for me to do except lay wide-awake in a bed I hadn't occupied for so long. Katrina had returned and that altered everything. Every effort I had poured my blood and sweat into was gone. Not that it mattered anyway – now that Ichabod was taken from me, I had nothing. But you never really had him, I told myself. You always knew he was Katrina's.

"She doesn't even know him," I whispered to the emptiness around me. "Not like I do."

In fact, at the afternoon meal, we sat around the table filled with mutton, biscuits with real honey, carrots, and baked potatoes. Right in front of Ichabod, Katrina set a colossal bowl of cauliflower, and even went as far as to fill his plate with the manila, warty vegetable. Ichabod hates cauliflower. Despises it, and throughout the entire meal, I discreetly observed Ichabod's face. His expression was one of disgust, and he stared at it like a woman would when throwing a dead mouse out of her house by its tail.

I glanced at the shadowy walls that towered above me and realized how lonesome I felt, how heavy my heart hung from its strings. I wondered if Ichabod would sleep in tranquility tonight, his mind unbound by demons and malicious nightmares. And then I wondered if I could live through each morning waking up and not see Ichabod's face lying next to me. Judging by how my heart shed its tears, I had my doubts.