"What are you reading?"
Kid glanced up and saw Ginnie peering out of the back door of Julia's house to where he sat on the porch. Lou's letters, which he had already read several times, were bundled in his lap. Since she had given them to him the day before, he had pored over them, learning about her life without him and all about Ginnie.
"I'm reading about you," he said, smiling at the girl.
She grinned in response, pleased. Ginnie slipped from behind the half opened door and sidled up to him. She stared at the paper in his hands as if reading the words intently.
"What does it say?"
"Well, this one's about when you first started to walk," he replied, before picking up another envelope from the small pile. "And this one's about when you went to stay with Jack and Lily."
Ginnie nodded. "They had a dog called Samson."
Kid smiled again but it was a sad smile. He hated to think of Lou and their daughter fleeing from Virginia when the war came too close to Williamsburg. He hated to think of them in any kind of danger. Reading Lou's letters and getting a glimpse into the past four years left him with a heavy heart. It reminded him of just how much he had missed, and the torment he had put Lou through. He had never intended for any of it to happen – never thought it possible all those years ago when he swore to Lou that he would return to fight for his home state if war came. It was never supposed to be like this.
"Read me a story," Ginnie instructed, shaking him from his thoughts with a persistent tug on his sleeve. "One of the ones about me."
Kid's smile was cheerier this time. "A story about you?"
"From momma's letter." Ginnie climbed into his lap and nestled against Kid's chest, waiting.
A lump formed in his throat as he curled an instinctive arm around his daughter. He was not yet used to the way she made him feel – he was her father, she was part of him, and the feeling was indescribable. He hoped he would never get used to it – every moment was a gift and allowed him to momentarily forget everything he had been through to be back with his wife and child.
"Which one do you want to hear?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion.
"This one," Ginnie said, pointing to the one he had been reading. "Then the one with Samson."
Kid cleared his throat and started reading the letter that recounted Ginnie's first attempts to walk without holding onto the furniture, and the stubbornness with which she approached it after falling repeatedly. Ginnie held onto Kid's hand that held the letter, utterly contented.
Lou couldn't sleep. The wind was howling outside and the air felt heavy as a storm approached. It was late. Ginnie was sound asleep, curled up beside her and oblivious to the restlessness outside. Lou glanced at her, envious. She had been sharing her daughter's bed since Kid's return, giving him time and space to recover. In the week since his return he had not mentioned her absence.
Lou again wondered at the irrational fear she had that somehow she'd lost him. Memories of their early married life were so vivid and yet she struggled to regain any level of intimacy with him. Worse, they were awkward around each other ever since she had cleaned him up after his return.
She heard the first rolls of thunder in the distance, and was instantly reminded of the wild weather they had experienced in Sweetwater in the early days of the Pony Express. Several times she had been caught out on the prairie during a run when a fierce storm hit, lightning licking the sky and thunder crashing around her ears. The memories were so vivid Lou could swear she smelled the rain hitting the dusty ground, although the storm had not yet hit outside.
Then came another noise. At first she thought she imagined it – Julia's house often creaked and groaned when the wind picked up as it had now. She strained her ears but heard nothing for several minutes. She was about to give up and try to sleep when she heard the muffled sound again.
Lou slipped out of the cot, careful not to disturb Ginnie, and lit a small lantern. She shivered in her nightgown and bare feet but did not pause to find a wrap for her shoulders. The lamp cast a dim, yellow light before her as she made her way to the door of her bedroom where Kid was supposed to be sleeping. She paused before the closed door, not wanting to disturb him, but convinced she had heard something from within. When he let out a yell at that moment she jumped in fright, nearly dropping the lamp in the process. Without a moment's hesitation she burst through the door and found him still asleep, but obviously in the grips of a nightmare.
Kid's body writhed under the bedsheet, having kicked off his blanket. His hands were knotted in the cotton fabric, fingers clenched until his knuckles were white. His face was full of anguish, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. Lou stopped in her tracks, her heart breaking at the sight of his pain and distress. She placed the lamp on the bedside table and sat next to him, stroking his hair and murmuring his name.
"Shh, Kid, it's all right. I'm here," she said quietly. She gently unclenched his hands from the bedsheet.
Kid's eyes snapped open, although he appeared not to focus on her immediately.
"I'm here, it's all right," Lou said again. "You're safe, Kid."
Kid was breathing in ragged gasps and his feverish gaze did not leave hers as he sat up quickly and threw his arms around her, gripping her like he had when he'd first seen her again in Julia's yard. Lou clung to him with all her strength. The tightness in her chest was nothing compared to the pain in her throat as she tried to stop herself from crying. She hadn't the tears to weep for Kid's suffering, or her own, not after all that had been shed. Her resolve began to crumble though, as Kid's body was racked with sobs. He held onto her and cried.
After several minutes Lou reluctantly pulled herself from his grip in order to look him in the eyes.
"Shh, Kid, you're here now. You're safe."
She stroked and kissed his cheeks, pressing her forehead against his and swallowing with difficulty. Running her hands down his face, her fingers slipped to Kid's neck. She barely registered the feel of the puckered scar underneath her touch when, with a start, he took a sharp intake of breath and pulled away from her.
"I'm sorry!" Lou yelped, seeing the pain from his old wound cross his face.
Kid shook his head, silencing her apology, ashamed he had obviously frightened her with his behavior since he awoke from his familiar nightmare. The last thing he wanted was for her to be affected by what he had experienced during the war – it was the very reason he wanted to keep it from her. He didn't want her to be reminded of what had happened while he was apart from her, any more than he wanted to remember it.
He wished more than anything that he could go back to the way things had been before – when there were no ugly scars to stop her from simply touching him. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and then, without meeting her gaze, he slowly picked up her hand in his and drew it back to his neck. Kid held her hand against the scar, barely feeling its warmth through the thick skin. He looked warily at her then, waiting for her to be repulsed, but Lou's eyes were only filled with love and compassion. A long silenced followed which Lou could not break. It had to be Kid.
"It was a saber," he finally murmured so quietly that Lou almost didn't hear him.
She held her breath, saying nothing.
"At least, that's what I thought at first. I didn't see the swordsman but my neck was on fire so I thought it was a cut from a saber."
He paused, his eyes dropping to his lap, but his hand still over hers on his neck.
"Tell me, please," Lou pleaded in a whisper.
Kid eventually nodded, defeated.