A/N: Hey everyone. Very sorry for the delay in posting but both myself and my co-conspirator have been insanely busy. And this chapter is like….well…HUGE and it was very challenging.
I did consider breaking the chapter into two but I felt everything that comes out had to come out all in one. This is probably the longest chapter I have ever posted but I don't think it actually feels that way. Well, I hope not.
This chapter was written by both me and my amazing friend and beta, SweetSouthernComfort. Thank you so much hun, for all you have done for this story and for me. You truly are fabulous! And your writing is just…perfect.
Oh yes, we have been plotting and boy did we plot. I still have a lump in my throat reading this back. Poor evil hat is very worn out, hehehehe. Not much else to say really – Just prepare for some motherly whooopa and oh….maybe think…Dead Doll…mwahahahaha.
Please leave us your comments for we write for you. There wouldn't be a story if no one read it. Enjoy and grab a tissue :D
Chapter 85
Laura's belly churned with a fire like no other she had ever felt…ever. She stormed from Sara's room with such ferocity, she didn't even see Nicolas as he emerged from his own room and she collided into him.
Both lost their balance but the young man was fast on his feet and managed to grab his aunt before she toppled to the floor.
"Aunt Laura, are you alright?" Nicolas asked with concern and he helped pull her upright.
Her fire filled eyes clashed with his and he actually took a step back when he noticed the look of pure fury upon her face.
"Um…I…" he stuttered, "…didn't mean to bang into you. I'm sorry."
"I'm not angry with you," she responded but didn't dally. She picked up her dress and was away down the corridor before her nephew could even ask what was wrong. He knew something was wrong though and quickly followed her.
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The captain groaned as his eyes slowly drifted open. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry. With a great amount of effort he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Cursing under his breath, he noticed he was still donned in his previous day's clothing and shook his head in attempt to alleviate some of the tension surging through his neck.
Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet as the bedroom door opened and his wife burst through.
"What the hell did you do?" she shouted at him and he blinked hard giving her a rather blank expression.
"Do?" he asked with both a frown and a grimace. His head pounded in what was probably the worst headache he'd ever had in his life.
Laura's nostrils flared and she held up Sara's letter.
Unseen to the two of them, Nicolas hovered in the doorway.
The ranch owner tried to focus and stared at the piece of paper his wife was holding before him. "What…did you do, Thomas?" she screamed now, throwing the letter at him.
But he couldn't think, his brain wouldn't allow it and all he could do was watch as the letter floated to the wooden flooring.
"God damn you." Laura's voice was soft and icy but her voice and demeanor changed as she leapt forward and began pounding into his chest. "She's gone! She's gone because of you!" she sobbed over and over again.
The bewildered Captain stumbled backwards but Laura only advanced, the strikes from her fists were firm but lacked the finesse and strength of a man's. However, they were fast and furious in their attack and the captain could only attempt to hold up his hands in his own defense.
"Laura," he pleaded. "What on earth is wrong with you?" His hands, fumbling and slow from the alcohol last night, attempted to hold back her fury. Thomas Sidle had never struck his wife and he was not the kind of man to do so…regardless of reason and so, he struggled to both defend his person and subdue Laura.
Nicolas shot into the room and was quick to grab his family member. "Aunt Laura, please…" He took her as gently as possible by the arms and tried to pull her away. He had never, ever seen something like this. Fine his Aunt and Uncle had their arguments like any normal couple but her…hitting him? It was unheard of.
"Nicolas, let me go…" she began, fighting him but he held fast.
The captain tripped and ended up sitting back on the bed. He had no idea what was going on.
"Not until you calm down," Nicolas replied, wrapping his arms around her.
"I said let me go, damn it!" she yelled at him.
"Let her go, Nicholas," the Captain finally said. Nicholas gave both a dazed look and his grip on his aunt weakened but didn't release.
Laura's chin trembled as she sucked in ragged uneven breaths. Her eyes were still fixed firmly on her husband and he looked at her, shocked. Nicolas kept his arms wrapped around her until she stopped struggling and her anger seemed to fade.
Eventually she spoke. "Let me go, Nicolas," she requested firmly, tilting her head to look at him behind her. "Let me go…"
Swallowing hard the young man looked to his uncle but the captain didn't offer him any other form of advice than he already had. It seemed as though the ranch owner was still trying to comprehend what was going on. He returned his eyes to his aunt.
"You promise you won't…"
"I don't promise anything." Laura's eyes filled with tears. "But I'm insisting you let me go, right now."
The blaze in his aunt's eyes made Nicolas swallow hard. He nodded and slowly released her.
Laura nodded towards the door. "Please wait outside, Nicolas; we need a little time alone."
Without argument but a little uncertainty in his step, Nicolas nodded and left the room but he waited right outside the door.
Laura's eyes passed over her daughter's letter and she bent to retrieve it before approaching her husband. Holding out the letter her eyes bore through his. "Read it," she demanded, her teeth gritting so hard it hurt.
With a shaky hand, the captain reached out and took the letter. His eyes fell upon Sara's delicate handwriting and he tried to focus. She was great writer, she always had been and her penmanship was perfect.
Laura took a step back and waited.
It took the captain some time to read the letter. His face contorted in numerous expressions from ones to confusion to surprise and then…to guilt. Once he had finished, he lowered his hand and his eyes once again met his wife's. The look on his face was one of sheer dread as he slowly began to recall what he had said to Sara the previous evening.
"Tell me what you did, Thomas? What did you say to our daughter?"
He swallowed hard and slowly pushed himself to his feet. "I…" His mouth worked in circles as he tried to think of what to say, he wasn't entirely sure of what to, "…I didn't mean to say…I…I'd had too much to drink and…I didn't mean it…"
Breathing heavily, Laura took a step forward, her eyes clouding with tears. "What…did you say to her?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose the captain shook his head. "It's still a little hazy, but Laura, I was angry, upset…I was hurt too in all this…"
"Tell me damn it!" she screamed now.
"I may have…I told her I was disappointed and I…called her a…a…I wasn't proud that at this point in time she was my daughter…"
Tears flowed now down Laura's cheek. Lightening illuminated the bedroom window, briefly but effectively as if God was trying to put emphasis on his wife's words.
"Did you tell her you hated her?" she asked, recalling Sara's choice of words in the letter. "Did you disown her? Tell her you didn't wish to look upon her anymore?" She dropped her head in her hands. "I'm just trying to understand, Thomas…..what you could have said to make her leave her home….to go outside in this!" Her hands made an expansive gesture towards the window.
Thomas Sidle thought hard about the previous evening. He had been angry, entirely hurt and disappointed. He then remembered Sara's confession….that awful confession that had made him so terribly angry.
He forced himself to look at his tearful wife. "Sara had confessed to me that the entire trip to Virginia was a lie. She told me that she had lied to us, lied so she could be with him." The captain still couldn't make himself say Grissom's name. It was so much easier to blame him for Sara's predicament. Why couldn't she have left it at that?
The answer floated to him… Because that wasn't true and wasn't right. His daughter had owned up to her own grievous horrible mistakes. He had raised her to be accountable for her actions and now she was doing just what she had been taught.
Laura's fingers flexed in and out in and she jumped as a bang of thunder shook the house. "So what did you call her, Thomas?" she asked, not letting her husband's comment go.
He hesitated before replying but eventually he did. "I may have called her a whore."
The lady of the house's eyes flickered and then widened, her stomach filling with bile and bitterness. She stepped forward, stopping barely a foot away and just stared at him. Then, without warning her right had shot out and she slapped him so hard across the face that he stumbled backwards and hit the bedpost.
Shock registered on the captain's face as his hand rubbed his now stinging cheek. "Laura, I know you're angry and understandably so, but we didn't raise Sara to act that way. That's not proper conduct for a woman such as herself. I know that you like…..Grissom…" He almost choked on the name, "…but he…"
Laura had never struck her husband before and in all honesty she was surprised she just had, it wasn't something any woman would ever dare do to their man. Just a simple argument could cause the gravest of consequences. But she was angrier than she had ever been in her entire life. The one man she loved…had only ever loved…could he really be responsible for the loss of her only child?
"Yes, Sara was wrong to do what she did," Laura was practically screaming now. "Okay, fine….yes she was wrong. And I think that she's paid dearly for her mistake. We all make mistakes, Thomas….what matters…what really matters, is that we stand up and admit our mistakes and try to do what we can to remedy them."
"That's not an easy thing to remedy," the captain replied softly.
"Sara loves us," Laura's voice dropped two octaves as she held her head in her trembling hands again. "She was willing to throw away her happiness….for us….for this God-forsaken land that you love so much. She made an alliance to a monster in order to save the Grove, because you love it….because she worried what losing the Grove would do to you. That child suffered, Thomas. She was so unhappy and so miserable. And then she was kidnapped by him when she simply couldn't go through with it."
"Hank is a monster," the captain agreed. "And I hope he and McKeen burn in Hell for what they have done. But I will give Hank some credit, he….at the very least…did not defile her. I will give him credit for that."
Laura suddenly wept with an intensity that almost frightened the Captain. Only once before, when Sara was only a six week old infant with a serious case of whooping cough, did Thomas ever remember Laura crying that hard. That day, and he remembered it well, the doctor had said that their baby would be dead by morning. Laura had, as well as he, wept as if Sara had already died. It was a sort of crying reserved for grieving and now, just as then, Laura seemed to be already doing so.
However, Thomas didn't completely understand, but he knew well enough to know that something was terribly wrong. "Laura?" he asked gently.
Her face bore the epitome of loathing. "Your daughter is brutalized and raped by the beast that kidnapped her and…you…you give him some credit and …and …call her a whore?"
Still holding a hand to his cheek, the captain managed to focus. The look on his face was of inexplicable horror, of a deep absolute grief, and even a flash of anger.
The words seemed to wake the captain somewhat and he pushed himself straight, although now, his eyes too glazed with tears. "Hank…forced himself on…"
"Yes…" Laura hissed before he finished, "…and Gil saved her from that hell. A hell which you have just re-condemned her too!" She said not one more word but turned and dashed for the door.
Before exiting their bedchamber, however, Laura turned one last time and regarded her husband. "At least…..at the very least, Thomas, Gil showed Sara tenderness. If you could have seen what I saw when I tended to her….the terrible injuries Hank did to her. Injuries and insult she sustained all because she wanted to save this goddamned piece of land for us. And God forgive me, I'm happy that she was pregnant when that happened. At least Sara wouldn't have to worry about conceiving a child with that vile piece of filth."
With that she slammed the door and hurried down the corridor towards the stairs.
The captain was still trying to take all this in but gave chase with haste. Well, as quickly as he could.
Nicolas stood slack-jawed and watched both his aunt and uncle rush past him before he followed them.
Laura ran down the stairs as fast as her legs would allow, almost colliding into the heavy front door. She yanked it open but the force of the wind was so strong it fought against her and snapped it closed. By the time she had managed to pry it open again her husband was already upon her and he grabbed her upper arms.
"Where are you going?" he gasped, struggling with her as she tried to break free.
She fought in vain to get away from him. "I'm going to find my daughter, that's where I'm going…not that you care…"
"No! You can't go out in the storm," the captain shouted now and turned to his nephew. "Help me," he implored as Laura just about broke free.
Nicolas nodded and helped to restrain his Aunt who was still struggling to exit the house.
"Please, Laura, stop fighting," the captain pleaded. "It is too dangerous to go out there and we don't even know where Sara is!"
Laura slid free from them and backed into the wall. Tears were streaming down her face now, her sobs unrelenting and she broke down. Slipping down the wall she sat on the cold floor.
Her eyes focused upon the picture window, the large ornate one that really should have been boarded up if they had had the time, if Thomas hadn't been so drunk and incapable. Laura stared out of the polished glass, watching the raindrops slap against it, hearing the low moan of the wind outside. The storm's power was intensifying, bringing a greater barrage of rain, wind, and eventually hail. The creek waters would overflow their banks, flooding the low lying areas; the wind could possibly uproot trees and knock down houses, bridges and barns.
And her child, her only child, was out there somewhere. Sara was out there, in the rain and wind, undoubtedly cold and soaking wet. But the worst for Laura was knowing that Sara fully believed that her own parents, the two people whose own love had caused her existence, no longer had any love towards her.
After all she had been through, to be out there, all alone, believing that no one loved her.
Laura tore her gaze away from the window but she couldn't close her ears to the storm's fury.
And she wept even harder, so intensely that her body shook like the barn and stables were surely shaking outside.
"I want to hold my baby," she wept into her hands, the tears slipping through the cracks between her fingers.
Forcing her tear-stained face to her husbands, she sniffled almost painfully. "Do you hear me? I don't care what she may or may not have done. I don't care if she had been whoring herself at Heather's bar…she is still my baby and I love her. I want to just hold her. I want to know that she's okay. If you can just dismiss her like she's a servant, then you are not the man that I always thought you were. But nothing you have told me, nothing that she could ever do, will change the fact that I am her mother and she is my baby." Her head vanished back into her hands.
Daring to approach, the captain knelt beside his wife. "I'm sorry," he whispered reaching to take her hand and pull it away from her face. "Look at me, Laura, please."
After a hard sniff and a wipe of her tears on the back of her hand, the lady of the house raised her head.
"Once the storm passes, I will find her, I promise," he said.
Giving him a mock smile, Laura pushed herself up, both the captain and Nicolas helping her. "And you don't think it will be too late by then?"
The captain's mouth opened but his response was only silence, a clap of thunder preventing his response. The storm had got worse and his gut cramped at the thought of his daughter outside in such conditions.
"May I make a suggestion?" Nicolas cut in.
Both looked to him and the captain nodded. He was all up for suggestions at that point.
"I'm not entirely sure what's happening…" He scratched the back of his head, "…but I gather Sara is gone. If you wish to divulge the reason to me then do so but I guess right now our concern is to calm down and talk about this sensibly and work out where she may be. So then, once we are able, we can go find her."
The captain nodded on a sigh. "I think that's a good idea," he agreed, reaching for his wife's arm but she pulled away.
"I don't need your help," she snapped and walked away, heading towards the lounge.
Huffing a shaky breath the captain closed his eyes. Sara was gone and it was his fault. How was he going to be able to remedy this? He silently prayed to God that she was alright. "Nicolas, would you be kind enough to organize some coffee for us?"
"Yes, Uncle," the younger man replied. "I need to make sure Gregory is alright and then I'll come meet you."
With a sad nod, the captain bowed his head and went in search of his wife.
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Upon entering the lounge the captain saw Laura standing by the window, staring out into the storm. Her right hand covered her mouth and her left arm wrapped around her mid section.
She must have known he was behind her for she began to speak. "Why did you do it, Thomas?" She turned to face him and he bit hard into the right side of his mouth noting how distressed she looked. "Even after what I said to you…I warned you…and you still…I swear…if anything happens to her…I will never forgive you."
"I just wanted to talk to her," he interrupted. "I didn't expect things to go so far. I didn't mean for things to go so far and I didn't mean…what I said. I was drunk…angry…hurt." He clenched his fists as he stepped closer. "All I wanted to do was tell her we should move on, forget what had happened…forget Gil and we would support her through everything we had to. But…she said it was all her fault and it made me…I…I just…We didn't bring our daughter up to act like that, Laura!"
Laura's face was furious again. "So you thought that calling her a whore would help the situation?" she asked angrily. "Do you have any idea what saying that to her must have done? How she must feel now after everything she went through with that monster? She will blame herself, God damn you!"
On a heavy swallow the captain's shoulders slumped. "I didn't know…" he cried.
"No, you didn't." Laura's voice was soft and cold again, "Because she didn't want anyone to know. She begged me and Rana not to tell anyone what happened to her, especially not to you or Gil. And I told her that I would try not to but I knew that it would probably get out. After all, McKeen's servants would have known and I'm sure now with him gone, they are telling Jim Brass everything."
The captain shook his head sadly. "You're right, Laura. Everyone will know. Things like that just don't stay quiet." A sadness, thick and suffocating, filled him. A defiled woman didn't have much chance at a good marriage. Sara's indiscretion with Gil Grissom and the resulting pregnancy had been successfully kept to the knowledge of a handful of people, people that he knew would never tell. But this vile thing that Hank had done, the servants would know and they would tell because they had to.
He had only wanted to see his daughter in a good, financially secure marriage, to know that when he drew his last breathe that he would not have to worry about his children or grandchildren.
She stepped closer to him, her anger returning once again. "But you want to know something… Gil already knew. Hank bragged about it to him. Bragged about raping our daughter to him. And did he walk away from her? No! He was there for her, no matter what and you know why? Because he loves her. How many other men would stand by a woman after he knew that had happened?"
The captain looked stunned. "He knows?"
"Yes…he knows and you haven't answered my question, how many, Thomas?"
He shook his head, his mind in a whirlwind of thought. "I don't know."
"Well I do," she snapped. "Probably none and not only did your daughter have to contend with the loss of her baby but she had to cope with the abuse she suffered and…your attitude. The one man who was prepared to stand by her side…you wouldn't even let him see her but at least Sara would have known he was waiting for her…was ready to support her."
Suddenly Laura groaned as if a thought just swiftly entered her mind. "Oh, Thomas…Gil….I mean….you don't think that Sara might have even tried to talk to him? She did want to see him and he's gone home to stabilize his home in the weather. If she realized that he had left…maybe she followed him. But I'm not sure if she knows….after what had happened that he still loves her….I don't think that she had time to know."
The captain's eyes flickered and Laura noticed. "What are you not telling me, Thomas?"
He hesitated and she squared right up to him. "Please tell me you didn't say anything else to her."
"Um…I may have mentioned that Gil had left."
Her eyes narrowed. "But he was coming back."
"Well, I didn't know that," he whimpered. "I just thought he'd gone and I…may have used that in a bad way."
Laura's chest suddenly rose and fell in big, fast spurts. "Are you telling me…Sara thought that Gil had left her and wasn't coming back? Is that what you said to her?"
Taking a step back, the captain attempted to put a little distance between himself and his wife, just in case she decided to attack him again. "Laura, I'm sorry…..I didn't know…I didn't know any of this. He left and I….."
"You threw him off the Grove," Laura exclaimed. "What choice did he have?"
The Captain only sighed. "I know."
Laura looked outside at the storm again. "Where is she, Thomas? I mean, where on earth has she gone? I'm going to look in her room, see what she may have taken and maybe try to figure out how she packed. I hoped she had gone to Gil, but you just quashed that notion. She won't go to him if she doesn't believe he loves her. But you and I are going to him, just as soon as the weather permits travel. Because we need him and he may know where she might have gone."
Thomas nodded. "I'll check the stables, see if Pandora's missing. That would give us a clue as to how she's traveling. If she's on foot, she couldn't have gotten too far. And I'll go out and see if I can find her even now."
Another thought, a darker one, entered Laura's brain and she nearly choked on it's grip on her heart. "Thomas," she gripped his jacket. "Thomas, you don't think that she…..just gave up…you know….just went out there not meaning to go anywhere but not intending to ever…ever come back…"
He understood what she was trying so hard not to say.
"Laura, that's not our Sara. She's stronger than that."
"She's been through so much lately though." Laura shook her head as fresh tears began to fall. "Thomas, I can't…I can't bear that thought but I can't get it out of my mind."
He nodded.
"For everyone's sake…I warn you," Laura's eyes turned dark, "…she better…be safe…"
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It was difficult to discern the exact time that Sara finally saw the clearing that denoted she had arrived at Grissom's cabin. She guessed it was late afternoon or even twilight, but the darkened sky above and swirling winds made a true determination impossible.
The ride to his place had been tedious but Pandora had been unwavering in her quest. A good portion of the journey had taken place in the darkness, with Sara half lying on her horse. The one blanket Sara had brought, Pandora's favorite stable one, was draped across the animal's head, in a pitiful effort to protect her from the wind and driving rain.
Oh it had rained! It came down in torrents, each individual drop as cold and sharp as an icicle in the dead of winter. The sheets of rain had obscured the road ahead, making even a determined traveler stop for shelter but Pandora had plodded ahead, sometimes ever so slowly, but plodding ahead nonetheless.
Sara's icy hands gripped the reins as she struggled to see ahead. A cough escaped her lungs and she sniffled. An odd wave of dizziness momentarily put her in darkness, but she leaned forward in order to stay on her horse. Once it passed, her right hand released the reins to give Pandora a pat on the neck. The horse gave a soft whinny in response before making a sharp right turn, following a well worn path to the stable.
The rider was silent; there was no need to speak. From the moment Sara had boarded Pandora, nearly thirty-two hours ago, the horse had known her destination. Sara's thighs still injured from earlier, now were now throbbing in pain from the ride. Sniffling again, she was relieved that Pandora had finally made it…despite nature's fury against her.
It had taken six hours longer than it normally would have.
But Sara was relieved that Pandora's journey was finally over. Her horse could now rest, truly rest, knowing that she had found her new home.
Turning to the left, Sara eyed the cabin, only a blurry darkened form in the distance. She thought she could see a soft light seeping from minute cracks in the boarded windows. Relief washed over her as she realized that Grissom's cabin, as well as his barn and stables were weathering the onslaught of weather. She shouldn't have been surprised, Grissom did everything well. That he and his animal's home would be well protected in even the harshest conditions was something he would insist on.
Somehow, that simple cabin was more beautiful to her than the most extravagant plantation mansion. McKeen's glorious home, a site for many a glamorous party, was a pitiful shack compared to Grissom's home.
She knew, if she had not broken his heart….if Hank had never touched her, that she would have been happy here. They would have made a happy life here, full of love and warmth. Their baby would have been born here….
If things had been different…
Sara was under no delusions at this point.
Only a few months before, she was a happy, if not a little naïve, girl living on her father's plantation. Her largest concern was keeping her father from repeatedly finding her a husband. In the space of mere weeks, she had managed to find love, ruin it, almost ruin her family and finally shame them and herself. Her parents were furious with her; Grissom was obviously through with her. But no amount of scorn and disdain could equal the disappointment that she had for herself.
A newborn guilt washed over her. Not only had she hurt Grissom and her parents, she had not even taken care of the child that he'd given her. The day that she accepted Hank's proposal was the beginning of the end for her unborn baby. The missed meals, the stress, the anguish and sleepless nights….she didn't know that she was just hurting herself. Hank's abuse had just finished what she herself had started.
Poor baby was better off dead than with her.
She slowly swallowed the growing lump in her throat. Even…that…..that was her own fault…in a way….wasn't it? That hateful memory, never far from her thoughts, overwhelmed her again. A tremble started in her fingers, slowly moving up her arms until her entire body shook with it.
She forced it from her thoughts.
Instead, she pictured Grissom inside, sitting in his favorite chair, reading in the candlelight. His face and neck would still bear the evidence of his mistreatment; however, the bruises would soon start to fade. She wondered if the mark left by the hanging would scar or slowly disappear like his earlier feelings for her had almost definitely done.
Sara could feel no anger towards Grissom, though she had tried to muster some in the hours after he had left. After all, her father had been correct; there was no reason now for him to stay. And yet, though Sara mourned the loss of the child she would never know, she felt a small measure of relief….for Grissom. No man should be forced into an alliance that he obviously didn't want, regardless of reason. Grissom marrying her for the sake of their child was really no different than Sara agreeing to marry Hank to save her father and the Grove.
Grissom had loved her once. Sara did not question this, as she well felt it in her heart the precious days they had spent together. She had loved him back, with an intensity that both frightened and thrilled her. She had thought that he must have felt her love…as easily as she herself did. Nevertheless, her actions had done nothing but disprove that love and actions always spoke louder than words.
How she wished she could go back. She would have told Hank Pedigrew to go burn in the fiery pits of Hell the moment he had so cockily made his proposition. The Grove could have been lost, what did it matter now?
Her father had the Grove and he would hold those lands until the day of his death. But their family was now hopelessly fractured and she had nobody to blame but herself.
But when she left some thirty two hours before, Sara had taken little with her. Most of her personal possessions she had left behind, for her parents to dispose of them however they saw fit. She had taken only what cash money she had earned herself, her wooden box that her father had made for her, her worn Bible, Grissom's book, and Pandora.
And only one of those things she would leave here with.
Pandora's soft whine shook Sara from her thoughts. It was then she realized that they were standing in front of Grissom's stables, being pelted by rain and wind, when shelter was only a matter of opening the stable door.
It didn't matter to Sara but she feared for her exhausted horse.
Sliding from Pandora's back, Sara whimpered at the pain from her legs and thighs. Her shoes sank partially into the mud. Picking up the hem of her dress, she wrapped it around her wrist in order to prevent tripping over it. The wind whipped around her, blowing her bonnet off her head, freeing her already soaked tresses to the elements. It took several tugs on the heavy wooden door, even after unlatching it, to open it.
A gust of warm hay scented air welcomed her and Pandora inside. Sara struggled for several long minutes to close the door again, finally managing to accomplish the task. The stables were dark and Sara felt along the rail nearest the door, her fingers finally detecting the shape of the coal oil lantern that hung on a single nail.
Somehow she managed to light it, in the pitch blackness with her shaking hands and soaked dress.
She stood for a minute in the lantern's soft glow, shivering now in spite of the heat afforded by the well insulated stables. Sara heard a familiar snort from her left. Turning she smiled as her eyes lit upon Dante.
The gesture almost hurt and Sara tried to remember the last time she smiled.
She felt dizzy again.
Pandora walked almost painfully to Dante and Sara's smile evaporated. She hoped that Pandora wasn't sick or injured from her ordeal. Her eyes searched the barn and she found some extra stable blankets. Opening the stall door nearest Dante, Sara led Pandora inside. The fatigued horse sighed loudly as Sara dried her before placing two fresh dry blankets over her back and neck.
The hay chaffed air made Sara cough several times. She took some deep breaths but the air didn't seem to want to enter her chest. Shivering again, she heard a wheeze leave her lungs and she struggled for a few minutes.
Finally, she felt a measure of relief as she managed a few decent breaths. The dizziness that was present only seconds ago seemed to improve and Sara sighed. Propping against some scaffolding, she rested a few minutes before supplying Pandora with some grain and fresh hay. Her favorite horse nudged her hand before dipping her head into the trough.
It made Sara happy to see Pandora eating.
Dante watched Pandora with a rapt fascination that warmed her. At least Pandora and Dante would be happy and Pandora was a solid horse, she would make Grissom some fine colts one day.
Another paroxysm of coughs gripped her; their departure leaving her weak and breathless. She was sweating now and yet she felt oddly chilled at the same time. A series of sneezes soon followed and it took her several minutes to recover.
Dante and Pandora were now nuzzling over the partition that separated their stalls. Sara rested, suddenly exhausted and watched them for a while though Dante would regard her curiously every few minutes. Pushing herself up off the bale of hay she was sitting on, she opened her satchel and removed the wooden box and key. With a click the box opened and Sara removed the folded parchment inside. Examining it's contents, she was relieved that the expertly crafted box kept her letter safe from the rain.
Gil,
There is so much I want to say to you. So much that I wish for you to know but I fear that mere words are woefully inadequate to convey the emotion that fills my heart at this moment. And yet, words are all I have, and I fear that they will not serve my heart, nor you, any justice.
If you should carry any benevolence away from these last several weeks, let that be my undying love for you.
I almost weep at that one word…love…for love is patient, kind, honest and selfless, and I, unlike you, possess no such traits. I recall that one night, our first night together, directly after the Miller's dance when you told me you were not worthy of me. How wrong you were then. It pained my heart that you could even entertain such a laughable notion. No, my love, it was me who was never deserving of you. Having one such as you love me in return is a gift that I only now see the full beauty of.
Please know that I love you, please know that even though I am guilty of so much that my love was, and still is, genuine and wholly given.
From my very earliest of memories, I recall your face and how my parents would laugh that I loved you so much even as an infant. I suppose that I must have loved you from my very first breath…a breath that I now wish I had never ever taken.
Know that my heart will always be yours and when my last breath escapes my lips and my heart beats it's last, they will echo your name.
I am truly sorry for all the terrible things that I have done against you. I have hurt so many people by my conduct that there can be no forgiveness for one such as myself. And as much as I pain for my parent's heartache, it is my sins against you that hurt me the most.
You are, without any doubt, the kindest and most deserving of men. I wish for you all the health, happiness, wealth and love in the world and if the world gave you all it had, it could never equal what you deserve.
I hope my memory fades completely from your consciousness for my memory can only serve to remind you of the numerous insults you have suffered these past weeks.
I know you will find love; I want you to find love. It would be insufferable for someone as wonderful as you not to love and have beautiful children that look and act just like you. And the woman who is lucky enough to have you, I can almost picture her: worthy, pure, kind, considerate and unbelievably beautiful. I wish I might have been her.
I wish for you to have Pandora, though I shudder at the thought of you possessing anything that might remind you of me. Please do not hold that against her. She loves your Dante and is deserving of a happy future. She is a beautiful, magnificent animal and will prove herself worthy tenfold if given the chance.
Again, I'm sorry for every moment of unhappiness I have caused you.
Goodbye,
Sara
She couldn't stop the ceaseless tears that came from her eyes. She sniffled and exhaled, hearing a slight whistle escape as she did so. With fingers stiff from the cold, she placed the letter and her money inside the box. A click indicated that the box was locked. The key was placed conspicuously next to it, as well as Grissom's book.
After all, it was his.
Sara turned to the horses. With a sad smile, she coughed again and her watery gaze rested on Dante. "She's yours, boy," she said hoarsely. "Take care of her."
Dante regarded her with a wide eyed look.
She wept again, the tears coming from a ceaseless pool within her. For a moment, she thought of apologizing to Grissom again but decided against it. After all, she had said her apologies, both in person and in her letter. She did not want his pity nor his guilt.
Standing there quaking in the warmth of the barn, she felt utterly alone.
It was truly the bleakest she had ever felt. Sara had always considered herself a strong woman but it seemed as if she'd reached a chasm that even she couldn't bridge, leaving her feeling utterly and completely helpless and lost. Her parents had disowned her. Her baby was gone, taken from her by God himself, just like He had taken the illegitimately conceived child of David and Bathsheba. And now, she was ruined by one man's selfishness and malice.
Even if Grissom could have forgiven her for all she had done, it didn't erase her shame. Hank had defiled her; no man, not even Grissom, would want her now. And it wouldn't be fair to Grissom for Sara to even ask him.
He didn't know anyway. And Sara preferred it that way. She hoped he would never know.
With a half breath, she pushed the door open again after extinguishing the lantern. The rain assaulted her immediately and she shivered from it's onslaught. A deep chill began to take root, seeming to start from her belly and radiate through her organs, muscles and nerves, finally reaching the tiny hairs on her skin.
She couldn't recall ever being so cold. Her breasts felt heavy as she stepped into the pouring rain. Her entire body ached with fatigue and yet she felt lighter than she had in weeks. She had done at one last honorable thing. Pandora would be happy and that gave her a moment of joy in a life that was now consumed with sorrow and remorse.
The overwhelming urge to pray struck her and she did so, standing in the wind. She had prayed several times already but this final time was so insistent and strong that she simply couldn't resist it.
Finished and finally satisfied, she lifted her head to the blackness above, letting the rain bathe her face. Despite her deep-seated chill, the coldness felt good. It numbed her face and for a moment, it also numbed her heart.
But only for a moment.
The pain came back, all the pain….all the heartache. Her thighs throbbed sharply; her heart was a burning weight behind her breasts. Her legs and arms were suddenly and inexplicably like dead weights.
She tried to take a deep breath but her lungs only wheezed in response.
Her foot moved forward, walking in stumbling ungraceful strides until she reached behind the door. She groaned again when she felt her foot sinking into the soppy earth. The particular area that she stepped must have been a weak area of ground for her leg was enveloped to mid calf. Her arms shot forward in an effort to steady herself but a strong gust of wind catapulted her forward, and she fell to her knees.
Her hands sunk into the soft earth as the rain beat upon her back.
"Oh," she gasped, struggling to stand against the wind and mud and rain. She slowly pulled herself to her feet, fighting to regain her balance. Gripping the door, she fought to push it closed but the wind suddenly increased in intensity, whipping around her with a vengeance.
Sara could do nothing but wait until it subsided somewhat; however, the strongest gust yet threw the door open again and the momentum thrust her backwards, forcing her on her back in the deepening mud.
Dazedly, she stared up into the black heavens as one hand caressed her head where the door had inadvertently stuck her. Above her was pure darkness, the rain poured atop and around her. The mud prison gave her some protection from the wind but it's low moaning continued.
She had to get up but her final battle with the stable door had totally exhausted her energies. She made a feeble attempt but was unable to do much more than move her legs slightly.
Coughing again, she sucked in a water soaked breath.
Oh God, she didn't want to die here. Not here. Not where Grissom would certainly find her.
But she couldn't get up.
"Please," she prayed. "Please let me get up…just one more time…"
"There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding none. A clammy and intensely cold mist, it made its slow way through the air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another, as the waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was dense enough to shut out everything from the light..." ***
***Extract taken from: A Tale of two cities by Charles Dickens
A/N: Oh dear...Sniff...not sure what else to say. What would you like to say? What will happen now? :D