As the unseasonable snowfall grew heavier, so too did Katrina's anxiety.
"If he took the short cut through the woods he must be home by now..." She told herself changing into woolen stockings, a sturdy riding habit, boots and her good cloak. "I'll take him some good wine and a little sponge cake. I can't help but worry about him. He looked so pale as he left."
Katrina knew such a visit strained propriety but she did not care. She and Ichabod were practically engaged anyway so what harm could it do? She would not sleep tonight at all if she did not do as she planned.
Katrina rode through the dark trees with a sense of foreboding. She did not believe in the headless horseman and knew the woods around her home well. Ichabod did not however and suddenly Brom's gesture appeared less kind. Her worst suspicions were nearly confirmed as she came across a pumpkin charred and smashed against a tree.
"Brom what have you done?" She dismounted her horse and tied her to a tree to have a more careful look around. She gasped as the terrible sight of Icahbod's prostrate form lying on the frosted ground. She knelt down beside him and felt his limp, damp and chilled wrist for a pulse whispering a prayer of thanks as she found one though it was quite faint. She ran back to her horse, grabbed the small cask of wine out of the saddlebag and held it to Ichabod's slightly blue lips and nearly wept with relief to see them open and take a little. His eyes flickered.
"Katrina..."
"Yes, Ichabod. It's all right." She said taking off her cloak and throwing it around him. "Now try to stand up and we'll ride my horse back to my home."