When Time Stands Still
Chapter 3
June 1862,
My sweet Kid,
My nights have been sleepless since you've been gone. I lay awake this very moment looking out of an open window at the summer moon, and I often wonder if you are doing the same. The vastness of the night sky and the gentle breeze remind me of that night in Davenport before the shootin' started, remember?
I don't think I ever told you how special that night was to me.
Oh, I know it didn't have the perfect ending that you had planned, but eatin' and walkin' under the stars, well, for once, I felt like we were a proper courtin' couple. I was the envy of every girl in town that night having you alongside my arm, and it felt nice. It felt right.
A part of me has always been a little sad that we didn't have more opportunities like that.
I know we both would have liked to have forgotten those days that followed that night in Davenport. Still, I've come to the realization that those days were just as meaningful as any other time leading up to then. It took Dawkins of all people to make me understand that.
And that preacher we befriended, well, he was right too, ... what he said 'bout sacrifices. Life has a way of movin' so fast that we need to take the time and slow down once in a while — reflect on those aspects of our lives that we often take for granted.
Bein' out here on my own these past few weeks, I've had a lot of time to do just that. Reflectin'.
Now, I know what you're gonna say, Kid, and it ain't all that bad. It's just, well, I've been thinkin' a lot 'bout my life before the Express...'bout my ma and her own sacrifices she made tryin' to protect me, Jeremiah, and Theresa from our father.
Sacrifices. It's interestin' how one's life can hang in the balance solely because of the choices they make.
All my ma ever wanted was for us to live a better life than what she had. I suppose that is what any parent would want for their children—a chance at a better life filled with happiness. I know that's what I'd want for our children, when the time comes...
My ma. I was only ten years old when she died. I had never felt so alone as I did back then.
I know I've hardly ever mentioned her before, I suppose it's because she's always been too painful for me to talk about.
It's been ten years now. Still, when I close my eyes, I feel as though she were standing right here in the room with me. I can even smell her favorite fragrance lingering in the air. It smells of something sweet, like wild honeysuckle.
The words she said to me on her death bed, I've always kept close to my heart — but sadly, I've never really put much thought to those words until now.
She said, "I'm sorry, baby. It looks like you're gonna have to be their mama now. They think your daddy was a good man...and that he died. Please, don't tell them otherwise. Keep strong, my baby girl, and remember, the right people will come into your life at the exact moment you need them the most. They always do."
She was right, ya know. I guess I just never understood what she meant by that last part until now.
Growin' up, I always felt like life was punching me in the gut. I'd pick myself right up from the dirt only to fall back down again. It seemed like every person I ever crossed paths with always wanted to hurt me in some way. My pa. The sisters at the orphanage. Wicks.
Wicks.
I've never run harder or faster tryin' to escape anyone or anything in my life as I did from that man.
I guess when you're goin' through hell, you don't stop and realize that where you're headed is far more important than what you've left behind.
I can see that clear as day now. Every bad person...every bad experience that ever happened to me, I realize now, all happened for a reason. There was no way to know it then, but my decision to sacrifice Louise for the comfort and safety of Lou was the best thing I ever did.
Now, I look back at my own sacrifices, and well, they all seemed to point me in the direction of the Express —in the direction of you. It's like it was meant to be all along.
I can now look back and realize that maybe those terrible things you and I have gone through in our lives were supposed to happen just as they did in order for bigger and better things to come about.
When I joined the Express, I was broken.
Lost.
I guess it's fair to say I was on my last leg. I think we all were.
On the outside, it may have looked like I was full of spitfire and fight, but on the inside...well, I'd be lyin' to you if I told you there weren't times I thought it would be easier dyin' by my own hand.
Then something happened.
As sure as the sun rises in the east, a group of strangers, misfits really, came into my life when I needed them the most — just as my ma had said.
Over time, this group of young riders became my family, and those holes that were once in my heart finally started to heal.
The first few days were rough. I remember layin' low just watchin' ya'll.
I guess I was mostly tryin' to figure out what I had gotten myself into and wonderin' how in the world I was going to live in the bunkhouse with five boys without givin' myself away.
Jimmy's cockiness scared me a bit. Not for me, but for him. He's lucky he didn't get his fool head shot off in those first few weeks. Cody's antics and foolishness were amusing, but with his ego, I'd never tell him that. Then there was Ike and Buck, whose brotherly love I found endearing.
We sure were an interesting bunch, weren't we? You couldn't have picked a more mismatched group of orphans if you tried.
Then there was this quiet boy from Virginia, a mighty handsome gent, if I may say so.
He was sure a hard fella to figure out — someone who didn't go lookin' for any trouble, always fightin' for what was right. Fightin' for what he believed in.
He was different than any other man I had ever met. A decent man. Loyal. Kind. Gentle. Sweet.
You.
From the beginning, it was always you.
We sure had our fair share of rough patches along the way, didn't we?
I can look back now and realize how foolish I had been — how foolish we both were. But honestly, Kid, we didn't know any better, bein' so young and all.
I know. I know. My dressin' like a boy didn't help matters none. You've reminded me of that since the day you found out I was a girl. But your urge to protect me, I know now, was just out of love.
I guess the closer I let people get to me, the stronger the urge was to push them away. It was easier. Safer.
When I found my freedom as Lou, I found that ridin' for the Pony Express, well, it made me feel like I was doin' somethin' important. Like I was finally doin' somethin' right in my life. It was somethin' I could be proud of. Somethin' my ma would have been proud of.
I couldn't figure out that balance between ridin' alongside someone, bein' someone's girl, when I didn't know who I was myself.
It sure took us a while, but once we both learned that with love comes give and take, well, the world was ours for the takin'.
I owe an awful lot to you, Kid. You taught me how to trust again — how to love and be loved, and somewhere along the way, we grew stronger. Together.
Kid, there ain't nothin' more I want in my life than to spend the rest of my days with you, and bein' apart from you these last few weeks has reinforced in my mind just how much I love you — how much I've always loved you.
I've been missin' you something fierce these past few weeks. I miss having the warmth of your arms around me as you hold me tightly next to you. The way you calm me by laying soft kisses on my neck.
Every night as I lay in bed, I close my eyes, and I can feel your touch. I can see your sweet face as I stare into those soft, blue eyes of yours.
My fingers mindlessly turn the ring on my left hand, a constant reminder of those vows we made to one another.
There ain't much I am afraid of in life, but if I'm being completely honest, Kid, fear overcomes me when I think of the words 'til death do you part'.
With you off fightin', I can't seem to shake the feeling that these words leave me, almost like it's some untold revelation.
I know the worst of this war is yet to come, and I keep telling myself that coming with you to Virginia was the right thing to do, but these days, Kid, I ain't so sure.
Even though you never mentioned it, and may have bitten your tongue a time or two trying to hide it, I know you wanted me to stay out of harm's way back in Rock Creek.
Truth be told, I wanted to stay as far away from this war as possible, but I knew I couldn't live with myself if something were to happen to you. I needed to be near you. I guess the urge to protect those you love is a mighty powerful thing.
We've had our disagreements about the matter, but I believe this arrangement was a fair compromise. But there are days that I want to break this arrangement and go fight alongside you just so I can be near you.
You were right about one thing, Kid. This land is truly beautiful.
I know you have only been gone a short while, but you should see this place!
The trees that line the long drive have bloomed since you left, and I've even tried my hand at gardenin'.
I've got enough chores to keep me busy for the next five years, but I don't mind. It occupies my mind, so I don't fret so much worryin' about you. I guess it's my turn to chop the wood now! So far, I think I have enough to last me through winter!
I've written Rachel, Teaspoon, and Buck, letting them know we've arrived safe and sound in Virginia. I know we left on a bitter note with Jimmy and Cody, but I've asked for Rachel to forward letters to them both, letting them know that we love them dearly. No matter how this war ends, my only hope is deep down, we'll always remain a family.
I have so much more I want to tell you, but my eyes are drawin' heavy, and tomorrow promises to be another busy day. I eagerly await to hear word from you concerning your health and whereabouts. Not knowing where you are or how you are fairing is taking a heavy toll on my heart.
I love you, Kid.
Ride safe,
Lou
P.S. The precious gift you left behind will be treasured always.
"June 30th."
The fact that the date on the letter was today's date in 1862, had not gone unnoticed by Thomas.
The letter itself was in excellent condition—as if it had sat untouched, unread this whole time. No evidence of wear could be seen other than the yellowing around the edges of the envelope.
The pages were crisp as though preserved in time and couldn't help but feel like he was holding a small piece of history within his hands.
Thomas sat in quiet contemplation as a gentle breeze billowed through the curtains. He looked toward the open window, almost as if he were expecting to see a woman standing there.
Grace Donovan?
Louise McCloud?
He wasn't sure.
It was late, and his eyes were tired from reading in the dim light. Standing from the desk chair, he walked over to the window to observe the vastness of the starry summer sky, just as he imagined Louise had done over a hundred years ago.
The full moon shone its light on the long, tree-lined pebbled drive. He could see the trees' darkened silhouettes swaying in unison.
When he was younger, he remembered pretending those trees were the same as animals or people, whispering to each other in the night breeze just as they appear to be doing now.
Thomas stood quietly, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, but there was too much noise in his own head for him to hear anything else.
Moving to the ranch after his parents died, those trees became his only friends, aside from Grace. He spent countless hours sitting underneath their canopy, propped up against their trunks just reading books.
Now with Grace gone, he could sense that familiar feeling of loneliness starting to creep back into his soul. The unrelenting emptiness that lingered around much like a large gaping hole needing to be filled. It was just like...well, as Grace and Louise had both so eloquently put it, like 'life kept punching him in the gut'.
Repeated blows, one right after another.
Thomas turned his head looking over at the lamp atop the old desk, where the soft flickers of the flame cast eerie shadows on the walls. The light revealed cracks — fissures he imagined that were created by the foundation's stress over time.
His eyes followed the linear crevasses along the wall. It was as if they were there to serve as a timeline, tracing back to a time when things were, perhaps, a little more simple.
Thomas could only imagine what these walls have bore witness to over the years.
Young lovers professing their love.
Miracles of birth.
Children's laughter echoing through the hallway.
A dying husband's last breath.
Tears of loneliness, worry...regret.
He sat down at the desk and looked at Louise's letter, this time pondering with great consideration for what life must have been like for her back then.
Reaching in his pocket, Thomas pulled out Grace's letter, the one Mr. Cartwright had given him and laid it down on the desk next to Louise's.
Two letters.
Two women.
Two generations.
One family.
Countless missed opportunities.
Thomas closed his eyes.
There were so many questions left to ask, stories to be told. If only he would have been more patient, more present to listen, maybe this feeling of regret wouldn't hurt so much.
Maybe.
Thomas's eyes opened, resting upon an old fountain pen and stationery paper that lay atop the desk.
After long hesitation, he grasped the pen, dipping it into the nearby inkwell, and placed the nib down onto the paper. Without much thought, the words begin to flow.
June 30, 2001,
Dear Mrs. McCloud,...