Chapter Eleven:

When Jimmy finally returned to the waystation, it was well on its way to being the dead of night. He had considered sleeping out on the prairie, but that felt too much like running away. And Jimmy had never been a man to run from a problem, even when it would have been safer and wiser to do so. He guessed some things never changed.

As he returned Sundance to her stall, he eyed the open tack room door. He hadn't slept there since the night Katy had given birth. It would probably have been merciful to both of them if he just bunked down there tonight and saved their conversation until tomorrow, but again, it wasn't in him to put off what needed to be done.

When he had finished with Sundance, he checked on the other horses and noticed that they had all been fed and watered. Good, dependable Lou, he thought to himself, shaking his head slightly. Even in the midst of everything, she could still be counted on to take care of the necessities. He patted each horse affectionately on the nose as he left, by way of saying goodnight, and made his way across the station yard to the bunkhouse. He could see that a lamp was still burning inside.

As he approached the porch, he had the sudden fear that the door might be locked. That it might be barred against him as it had been for all of those weeks in the beginning. He wasn't sure what he would do if it was, if he was back to the start, trying to tear down walls and rebuild trust. He wasn't sure he had it in him to do it all over again.

But he needn't have worried. When he lifted the latch, the door swung open easily on its hinges. She stood with her back to him now. She didn't turn when he opened the door, though he knew she had heard him enter. He always made sure to announce his presence before he came in so as not to ever catch her off guard or in any way embarrass her.

She was in her usual white nightgown and bare feet and was brushing her hair with a silver-plated brush. Jimmy had seen this particular brush only once before, but he would know it anywhere. He had been with Kid when Kid had purchased it, as a wedding present for Lou. Her chestnut tresses were already free from their usual braid and laying smoothly down her back, so he guessed that she continued brushing now more for the ritual of it than actual need.

"Lou." He finally spoke her name tentatively, not really sure how to proceed.

She didn't turn but her hand stilled on the brush, signaling that she had heard him and was listening.

He continued speaking to her back. "You've never told me what happened to him, and I ain't never asked. Your grief never seemed like any of my business before. But now it is, Lou. You gotta tell me. It's time."

He quietly took a seat on the bench with his back against the table and waited. He heard her exhale raggedly and watched her set down the brush she had still been holding. Her shoulders rose with a sudden intake of air, and she seemed to be steeling herself for what was coming.

When she turned to face him, her eyes were so full of anguish that he almost stopped her. Almost took her in his arms and told her that none of it mattered now. But he knew that it did matter and that there was no saving her from this moment. It had to happen if there was ever to be a way forward for either of them.

She walked absently to a bunk and sat down on the edge. Jimmy wondered if she realized that it was Kid's bunk she'd chosen or if it was just old habit. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The way she sat there now, toes poking out from under the hem of her nightgown, Jimmy saw her as she must have looked as a child. Long before any of them had known her. Before the dangers of the world had forced her to hide herself away.

When she finally began to speak, she had a far-away look, as if she had gone to someplace entirely different. And her voice sounded as if it came from another time. Once she started, her words came tumbling out in a torrent…

When they had first arrived in Virginia, they had settled on a little farm near Manassas and began to make it a home. But it wasn't long before Kid was called up to the Confederate cavalry and had to report for duty. His skills as a rider had proven too valuable to waste, and he had quickly distinguished himself as a soldier of honor and discipline.

Suddenly, Lou had found herself alone in a strange world. She poured herself into making their little plot of land into something Kid would be proud of when he returned. She often went weeks without seeing or speaking to another living soul. Mail was unreliable and letters were seldom, but when they did come, Kid's love for her was plain in every line. They sustained her and made the loneliness easier to bear.

On the rare occasions when Kid was given leave and came home to her, he would always appear without warning at the head of the drive. Lou would run down the road, flinging herself into his arms. Whenever Kid was home, they did their best to make happy memories. She tried her hand at Rachel's best recipes. They laughed playfully together at her failures and relished in her successes. They sat by the fire, Kid reading aloud from some book or other while Lou knitted or darned socks. It was the type of domestic life that Lou had once dreaded and chafed against. Now, she cherished every moment. But those moments never lasted long. Always a few short days, and he was gone again.

Every time he would come back to her, there was less and less of Kid for her to hold onto. He was always thinner and more pale. She had heard rumors about the terrible conditions in the Confederate soldiers' camps, and she knew that there was never enough food or shelter to go around. But Kid never let on or uttered a single word of complaint. Lou was sure that he was as determined as ever to protect her from anything that might bring her pain.

Each time he walked back down their drive and away from her, she wept. She was watching him slowly slip away from her, and there was nothing that she could do. Everyone talked about the dramatic deaths of war, the heroic moments of battlefield glory. But no one ever spoke of the slow leaving, the gradual goodbye.

The last time he came, she almost didn't recognize him. He was so weak and thin that he could barely stand, and he had a cough that would wrack his entire body in spasms of pain. Lou's heart broke as she helped him into the house and settled him into their bed.

For the next three days, Kid burned with fever, and he could barely hold down the simple broth that Lou carefully ladled into his mouth. They both knew this was the end, that Kid would not recover. Somehow, this realization gave them both a sense of peace and allowed them time to say their goodbyes. Lou was almost thankful for that small gift in the midst of such great pain. They spoke of their love for one another, of the mistakes they had made, and of how they had found their way back to one another in the end. When they had said everything there was left to say, Kid had closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.

Lou was sure that was the last time she would ever hear his voice. She sat by his bedside, held his hand, and waited, not entirely sure that he hadn't left her already.

Then, sometime in the night, she had felt him firmly grip her hand and his eyes had opened. His gaze was piercing and clear.

"Lou, I need you to listen to me now. I have somethin' that needs sayin'." His voice was strong, and he spoke with an urgency that belied his weakened state.

She nodded her head, but her words caught in her throat.

"You have to go to Jimmy, Lou. When this is all over. Promise me you'll go to him. I know he'll take care of you. He loves you as much as I do. And when the time comes, promise me that you'll let him love you. Promise me, Lou. I need to hear you say it."

She almost choked on the words as she struggled to speak. "I promise."