A/N: Hey guys. Thank you so much for all of your reviews, please, please keep them coming. I have to admit several did put a huge smile on my face.

Okay this chapter requires a little explanation:

First – This chap is co-written with my great friend and amazing beta SweetSouthernComfort. So YES BE PRERPARED! The hat definitely was worn out a little by the end of this. SSC thank you so, so much for your contribution and help. I love you babe!

Second – Yes, I admit I am a little nervous about this chapter but please understand we are trying, as much as possible, to remain in the context of the times and how people did react to such situations back then. You may feel we have Sara a little OOC but not really, she is simply devastated. Please try and be kind and if you want to swear, we'll make sure we cover our ears :)

Chapter 84

The captain was very unsteady on his feet as he drew closer to his daughter's bed.

Sara shuffled uncomfortably, she knew he was drunk, his looks and swagger easily gave him away, plus, it wasn't proper for him to be in her room given her condition.

But then to her surprise, the stern look on his face suddenly lightened. "How are you feeling?" he asked taking a hold of one of the bed posts.

Sara wasn't quite sure what to say. "Um…" A tiny, tiny, feeble smile crossed her dry lips, "…I guess I've been better."

"Well…" the captain ran a hand through his hair, "…now we have to try and mend what is broken and move on. You want to move on, don't you, Sara?"

Clearing her throat, Sara shuffled again. Although that question was simple, she didn't like the way her father put it. It sounded…odd.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," she finally said in a small voice.

He continued…

"Your mother and I are here to support you and we will get through it, together, but you have to forget the past and move on. You have a lot to answer for, still, but, I'm your Father and…"

A thought suddenly came to Sara listening to her father's words…

"Father, where's Gil? I'd like to see him," she cut in, not giving her father the opportunity to finish.

"You don't have to worry about him, you just have to worry about yourself," he replied, his calm dissipating a little. "He seduced you…wronged you, Sara. Remove any thought of him from your mind."

She shook her head. "No," she argued. "I can't do that. Father…"

The captain held up a firm fist and stopped her. "He takes responsibility for what happened, Sara. For your sake and mine, leave it at that."

Swallowing hard and bowing her head, Sara felt her body trembling. Her father's words indicated that he was willing to lay the greatest amount of blame on Grissom for their transgression. Sara wasn't sure what had already transpired between her father and Grissom but she did know that her father was angry at him and she couldn't allow Grissom to take the entire blame….because the majority of it wasn't his to take.

Slowly her head rose and she braved to look her father in the face. The shame on her face was more than evident as she spoke her next words. "It wasn't his fault, Father. It…it was mine."

"How can it possibly be your fault?" he disputed.

"I pursued him."

The captain shook his head and turned from the bed, his eyes filling with tears. "No…"

"Yes," she whispered. "My trip to Virginia…it was all a lie. I just wanted to be with him…From the very moment I saw him…I wanted to be with him…"

Scrunching his hands into tight, painful balls, the captain spun around and faced his daughter again. "Is that when it happened? When the two of you…when…" He couldn't quite say it but Sara knew what he meant.

She nodded. "It was my fault…"

Those words…her confession, were a mistake and she knew it instantly as his eyes suddenly narrowed and his nostrils flared. "I cannot accept that, Sara. Your mother and I raised you to be a strong woman with good morals. We even provided you with an education, something that many parents don't provide female children with. Did we not raise you in such a fashion as I describe?

Sara's head nodded sadly. "I have no qualms about my upbringing. You have been nothing but wonderful to me and I couldn't have asked for better."

The Captain leaned forward, his soured whisky breath making her nostrils want to curl. But they didn't. She braved herself to face her father but it made her physically hurt to see the pain in his eyes, pain that she had caused.

"So, you want to explain to me, Sara, why you threw yourself to him like a harlot? Harlots act like that, lying to their fathers….participating in premarital relations, getting pregnant out of wedlock…..Is that what you want to be?"

Sara dropped her head, staring at her bandaged intertwined hands that were now trembling atop the thick cream coverlet. The vision of them suddenly became blurred.

"I love him," she said in the only defense she had. "I do, I think that I always did and I knew that you would probably never give your blessing for me to be with him."

"I damn sure wouldn't now. I would want any man, who married my daughter, to respect her until their wedding night, to treat her with a kindness and gentleness that you apparently do not deserve." The Captain wasn't yelling but Sara could have handled it better if he was. His voice, like his eyes, were dark and ice cold.

Her mind flashed to Hank. He had treated her cruelly. Perhaps maybe it was God's punishment for her earlier behaviors. She thought of the night that she and Grissom had been together, after the dance at the Taylor's. She had indeed thrown herself to him, never thinking that he might think less of her for her actions. She may as well have been one of Heather's girls.

What did Grissom think of her really? Her actions belied her reputation. He knew that she lied to her father to be with him, practically seduced him and then threw him away like he was nothing? She had said she was sorry and she was….surely he knew….he had to know how she really felt, didn't he?

"Have you spoken with Gil?" she dared to ask, though she feared his answer.

"He is inconsequential, now!" he shouted. "I did not raise you to act like a whore with one of my workers. Forget about him…he's gone."

Sara's heart suddenly felt like it could leap from her chest at any moment. Her father's words continued to hurt, the name calling especially but…he couldn't be gone, her father was lying.

She shook her head. "No…that's not true. It can't be true."

Rounding the bed with vigor, the captain's previous niceties seemed to have disintegrated. He leaned over the bed and Sara suddenly found she was pushing herself back into the headboard. "He's gone," the captain repeated. "What did you expect? You behaved in such a deplorable fashion and then you pushed him away, lied to him."

"I did that for you," she responded, shocked at her father's line. "To save the land you loved so much. You know I did it for you."

The alcohol seriously kicked in now and an almost evil anger flooded the Captain's mind. A deep hurt filled him at his daughter's confession. "Wrong is wrong, Sara. You just proved to him that you are a lying, conniving whore! Why would he want you? You lost the only reason he would ever want you." He snorted a laugh. "Can't you see he only actually came back for the baby?"

Her father's words confirmed her mind's thoughts.

Sara trembled as the word 'whore' repeated through her mind and then all she could see was Hank, all she could feel was Hank, all she could remember was…the rape.

She was a whore.

She had deserved and rightfully earned all that had happened to her. Her life had been so simple before that fateful trip to Alexandria County. Almost, from the moment that happened, her life had taken a major detour, one that had now culminated in sadness, remorse, and guilt.

Why on earth would anyone ever want her? She believed her father now. Grissom was indeed gone. She had never felt such devastation.

Grissom didn't want her. He shouldn't want her. He deserved so much better. He had done the honorable thing…..agreeing to marry her to give his child a name. That was honorable but now there was no reason for him to stay.

The captain stepped back and headed towards the door as she stared blankly into the sheets covering her battered body. "You need to rest," he said flatly. "We can talk more tomorrow and you can have some time to think about what your future holds if you wish to continue being a Sidle."

Sara's eyes widened. She should have expected as much.

"Do you not consider me your daughter anymore?" she wept.

"My daughter wouldn't have acted in such a manner as you." The Captain gave her a sad look from the doorway. "The woman I am looking at now…..I don't know if she is my daughter or not."

"I can't erase what I have done," Sara protested softly. "I can only beg for forgiveness."

"A simple apology won't fix this," her father shook his head. "And I won't accept it. I do not wish to look upon you anymore."

Sara didn't respond. Her mind wasn't co operating.

"Did you hear me?"

She nodded slowly but not for a single second did she remove her eyes from the sheet. She continued to stare at the bedding until she heard her door open and then close.

Slowly, her head rose after a minute or so of total silence and she saw she was alone. In fact, she had never, ever felt more alone.

A tear fell down her cheek, followed by another and another and another…

"As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly saw his way to the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantial worldly grounds—the only grounds ever worth taking into account—it was a plain case, and had not a weak spot in it." ***

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A brisk breeze blew unfiltered through the Grove, so strong that the fallen autumn leaves were flitting through the night air. Sara sat at her large bedroom window and watched them mindlessly. Normally, she loved this time of year, when the hot sweltering days turned mild and breezy, where the greens and yellows of summer transformed into the vibrant reds, browns and oranges of fall.

There was no moon tonight, no beautiful stars to gaze at. The air was cool….cooler than usual for this time of year and the smell of rain was evident. Sara had heard the talk of the hurricane that was along the coast, from the servants who had been in and out of her room the last several hours. She had seen the workers outside stabilizing the nearly built barn and stables from the predicted onslaught of weather. Sandbags were being piled in the storage areas, at the ready in case they were needed.

Sara closed her eyes, remembering another major storm many years back. She had been a precocious five year old then and could mentally picture her favorite blue calico dress and the matching bows that held her braided hair in place. She watched the workers pile the sandbags with a rapt fascination and fearful dread that only a child could have and she had looked to her father for some sort of explanation.

"Are the bags for us to hide behind when the storm hits, Father?" she had asked him then, her smooth brow furrowing in anxiety.

Her father seemed so large to her then, so impressive a figure in his work hat and leather gloves as he hoisted a bale of hay upon the scaffolding. It didn't seem to the five year old Sara that anything could be stronger than this man was.

He had stopped his working, wiping his sweaty brow on the sleeve of his shirt. Looking down at his daughter, he had given her a tender smile.

"Are you afraid of the storm, Sara?" he had asked her.

She wasn't sure how to answer him. Her eyes rested upon the faces of the men who had worked for her father since she could possibly remember. Twisting her hands in the folds of her dress, she studied them with a serious interest before looking at her father.

"Well," she said now with confidence. "If we have to hide behind big bags of sand and hay bales, then I guess we should be scared. Will the horses and cows have bigger ones to hide behind?"

A booming laugh had erupted from her father then and before she knew it, Sara was in the air, securely in his arms, as she loved to be. Now on eye level with her amused father, she had tried to keep her expression serious, suppressing the laugh that threatened to escape.

"Sara," her father's face was a mock stern one that matched her own. "You don't have to worry about storms or hurricanes or anything else. It's my job to protect you, to keep you safe from everything out there….and I have from the day of your birth to the day of my death."

Her face twisted again. She didn't like that answer. The very thought of her strong father dying was preposterous to her. And yet, she was smart enough to know of death….that life was inevitably brief and that God could well take anybody He wanted to.

"What's the matter, Sara?" her father was now asking, noticing the distressed look on her face.

She couldn't hide her tears. "But I don't want you to die first, Father. I'll die first."

Her father's shocked expression surprised her. Hugging her tightly, he kissed her soft cheek. "My Sara. I couldn't bear for you to leave me. I tell you what. Nobody is going anywhere for a long time. But don't worry about death or storms or anything else. You are my daughter and I love you. Nothing will change that."

Sara smiled now. Her mind still whirled in thought. "But what if I do something really bad…?"

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It was her own soft sob that broke the silence of the room and the happiness of her memory.

Sara brushed her hand angrily across her cheek as she stood up. Her thighs and center ached with the movement. Resting her hand against her flat stomach, she took a few deep breaths. A gentle rumble of thunder echoed through the blackness of the night.

It's sound catapulted her into action. Slowly, she walked to her desk and retrieved the letter she had written only hours before. Her eyes carefully read her own writing again, making sure that everything was perfect. Satisfied, she placed the letter on her now made bed, atop the pillow where her head would normally lie…

Picking up the single simple bag, she slung it over her shoulder. She had packed lightly; there was no reason to bring much with her on this journey. The bag itself was almost weightless, only containing the barest of essentials; her money, her worn Bible, one last letter, her favorite wooden locked box that her father had made and a few thick cloths reserved for hygienic purposes.

She was still bleeding after all, but the flow had lessened now. Her body would eventually return to normal, the bleeding from her miscarriage would stop. The bruises Hank left upon her body would fade. Outwardly, no one would know what she had been through; however, her mind and heart would never forget.

She almost wished that she would never heal physically. It was what she deserved…

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Grissom and his boys reached Alexandria in record time. When they arrived at the small Grissom estate, the storm was just starting to kick in. The rain pelted them as they sped towards the stable and the wind almost threatened to knock them from their rides as it picked up a whirl of fury. All three men fought valiantly to remain aboard their respective horses.

Looking to the sky, Grissom tried to see through the unrelenting haze of rain that fell upon him and his land. He was exhausted, the ride had just about taken everything out of him but he sucked in his gut, tried as best as he could to push all the pain from his mind and jumped from Dante.

"I'll get the horses inside!" he shouted to Michael and Hodges as they waited for direction. He wiped his eyes as his dripping wet hair caused water to impair his vision. "Then I'll start boarding up the stable!"

The two boys nodded as he continued. "Start nailing down anything you can, Michael, and get any equipment sheltered. David, get to the barn, secure all and everything that is possible and get the place boarded up. You both got that?" His voice strained as a boom of thunder hit and suddenly Dante bucked.

"Easy, boy!" Grissom took a firm grip on his beast and held him close. "I'll get you inside now," he soothed, rubbing his nose.

"We got it!" Hodges shouted his response and both men dismounted and were off to do what they needed to do, running as fast as they could.

Having a quick look around before entering the stable, Grissom sighed. He could barely see anything through the rain and he wondered whether the storm and God himself would destroy everything he had worked for.

His thoughts turned to Sara and he truly, truly hoped not…

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The morning dawned so dark that Laura almost couldn't discern it from the night that had just abated. Rain was falling in rivulets, creating a steady rhythm that would only get worse as the day wore on. Laura wondered if the hurricane had struck the coast yet and muttered a quick prayer that no one would be injured or killed in the weather's onslaught.

Today would be difficult for more than one reason and Laura could only hope that the storm outside would be a greater intensity than the storm inside the Sidle household.

The Grove usually received a large amount of rain from such storms. Strong winds might threaten the house and buildings; hail would most likely add to the damage. The worst threat was flooding, but fortunately, the house was situated on a hill so even that was unlikely, though their neighbors might not be so lucky.

The dark skies enticed Laura to sleep in but she resisted the temptation. Exhausted, she had fallen into bed at around ten and she was only barely aware when Thomas joined her sometime after midnight. She could smell the alcohol on him but didn't confront him. Her husband was not a strong drinker but she figured that recent events would cause him to take up the bottle for a night.

Thomas wasn't drunk often but he was unpredictable when he was. Laura was relieved that she had convinced Grissom to return home a few days, so that her husband's drunken wrath wouldn't be focused at him. Today, she would talk to Sara…..later she would talk to her hopefully sober and more reasonable husband.

Hopefully, some progress could be made for peace.

After dressing for the day, Laura retrieved a cup of coffee before making her way to Sara's room. The door was closed so she rapped softly on the door.

After a few seconds, Laura was convinced that Sara might still be sleeping; nevertheless, she pushed the heavy oak door open with the heel of her hand. Peeking into Sara's bedroom, she then pushed the door open with gusto.

The bed was made. In fact, the room looked as if it had been vacant for some time. The windows were closed; the thick drapes open, allowing one to see the weather outside. Sara's dressing table was neat and clean, her closet door closed.

"Sara," Laura said needlessly, knowing there would be no answer.

Laura wrinkled her nose. Perhaps Sara was out walking, a habit she sometimes did when her heart was heavy. But the weather did not support a leisurely stroll and Sara was not exactly in good physical condition.

A glance to the bed drew Laura's attention to the single piece of ecru parchment that lay lightly on the pillow. A dread filled her heart as she picked up the paper and sat down on the bed. Sara's perfect penmanship jumped out at her as she focused her attention at the letter…

Dearest Father and Mother,

It is with a heavy heart that I write the lines you see before you. I have caused both of you so much pain and anguish that I do not know where to begin to remedy all the wrongs I have done.

I want you to know that I never meant to shame you and yet I have done so in the most terrible and unforgivable fashion. There are no words or actions that can undo what I have done to you. I can only give my sincerest and most heartfelt apologies and yet that does nothing to eradicate my transgressions, nor your understandable anger and disappointment in my conduct.

I cannot bear to have you disown me, to look upon your pained faces as I'm forced off my home. While I deserve that and so much more; the worst punishment is knowing that you now hate me and don't wish to look upon me anymore. And yet, I do not blame you your feelings, for I earned them wholly and completely.

I do not deserve to be your daughter anymore. I do not deserve to be a Sidle nor to enjoy the wonderful life that you have bestowed upon me since my birth. You both have been the most wonderful parents that God could have given and I was blessed to be yours. Please know that my actions are the result of my own poor character and not a reflection of your values and raising.

I am so sorry for all the things I have done. I am sorry for shaming you and causing you pain. Please know that I love you and would have never caused such strife and that I give no excuses for my actions.

Hopefully, my absence will serve to heal some of the pain.

I hope that you do not remember me with anger or malice. Know that I will think of you with all the love that I do now and that I will only remember the good times between us.

I pray that years from now, you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

Yours,

Sara

Laura felt her heart stop as her eyes absorbed the letter's contents. Her hand was shaking as it struggled to keep a hold of her daughter's obvious goodbye. Her lips twisted, unknown words trying to form upon them. Her thought's immediately turned to her husband…

What…in the name of GOD, had he done…?

"And I am very happy to-night, dear father. I am deeply happy in the love that Heaven has so blessed. But, if my life were not to be still consecrated to you, or if my marriage were so arranged as that it would part us, even by the length of a few of these streets, I should be more unhappy and self-reproachful now than I can tell you. Even as it is-" ***

*** Extracts taken from: A tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

A/N: Ugh, I foresee murder at The Grove, lol. It is not going to be pretty. And where has Sara gone? Will she make it through the storm? Pity I couldn't use a red mustang, hehehehe. Please review and let me know your thoughts :)