1865
After leaving Colorado Springs, Sully wandered aimlessly about for several days. He had no set plan or destination in mind, other than getting as far away from anything that reminded him of Abigail. He soon found out that no matter where he went or what he did, memories of Abigail haunted him.
She haunted his dreams at night. He heard her teasing whispers in his ears, felt her feather soft kisses upon his lips, and her luscious curves pressed against his heated flesh. He woke often in a fevered state, his body pulsing with need, and his heart drowning with grief.
Abigail haunted his every waking moment as well. He heard her laughter on the wind, saw her brilliant smile in the sun's rays. The vibrant hues of the wildflowers, dotting the paths he walked, reminded him of the colorful dresses she always wore.
On the seventh day of his wandering, Sully found himself wading through a field of wild lavender. The fragrant scent was Abigail's favorite, and it assaulted his senses. It trapped his breath in his throat and brought tears to his eyes. He sank to his knees amid the ankle high purple stalks, inhaling the heady scent, as he cried out his anguish to the heavens above.
"Why God? Why did you have to take my Abigail from me? You took my baby girl away, why did you have to take my Abby too?"
He hung his head and wept. He didn't know how he was suppose to live without wanted to die. His hand reached for his rifle, his grieving mind groping for a way to end his suffering once and for all. But his hand fell short of where his weapon lay, and he didn't have the energy to retrieve it.
Sully rocked back and forth, hugging himself as he sobbed, his thoughts dark, and filled with his overwhelming longing to be reunited with his wife and infant daughter. No matter how much he wanted to be with Abigail and Hannah, he didn't have it in him to end his own life. But that didn't mean he couldn't find someone else to end it for him.