Darkness was falling rapidly upon us, but the Kelly’s kept moving, trying to make up lost time. I had the impression Tom knew of a good campsite and was willing to travel another hour or two in darkness to reach it. That they had declined to spend the night at the cabin in favor of covering more ground spoke volumes. I stayed silent, having screamed and wept myself hoarse the first hour of the journey. I was stiff and sore from being tied to the mule and my mind was nearly numb from the shock of what had transpired. I could not even be angry with any of them for they all believed they were doing what was right.

No, I saved my anger for myself, for failing to recognize that as well as I knew Jeremy, he still had no true understanding of me. He felt me unique, but his natural instincts drove him to put my welfare above his own, and now I was far from him in the hands of well-meaning men who knew even less of me and so would be inclined to underestimate both my will and my abilities. We had ridden at least four hours, and not at any moderate pace. As it stood I would need more than a day to walk back should I take my leave of them in the night.

Would he wait that long? He was convinced he was dying, and in the hands of any other caretaker he would have been correct. Would he still fight? Or would he take the liquor for comfort and sleep as the fire guttered out, letting the cold of the night finish what the fever had begun? Did I have even half a day?

“I’d like to sit up,” I finally said.

“We’re near to camp, ma’am,” Will Kelley said, “quicker to get there and set you down than to stop and…”

He broke off because his father had brought us to a halt and a moment later the two of them were helping me down from the back of the mule, then Tom quickly cut the bonds from my wrists and ankles. He could hardly look me in the face and I knew his shame was not for having taken me away against my will, but for lashing me to a pack mule like some criminal.

I stretched in silence, stamping my feet to restore sensation to them. I wondered- were I to simply begin walking back now, what would they do? But the darkness was growing thick and impenetrable, and I knew Tom Kelley was traveling solely by his gut and his knowledge of this trail. To walk without the stars to guide me would be foolish in the extreme, even for me. After several minutes I allowed Tom to take me up behind him in his saddle and we set out again.

We reached the campsite in short order: a clearing to the side of the trail with a stone fire pit and a well built north-facing stone wall sufficient for a serviceable lean-to. Tom Kelly helped me down from the saddle, and then set about making a fire while his son unrolled a large tarpaulin of leather and began setting poles against the wall, taking them from a pile stacked there for just that purpose. Within minutes he had the shelter constructed, driving iron spikes in to the ground with a mallet to secure the cover in place.

I turned and gazed back upon the way we had come. What was he doing now, I wondered? My fear refused to be held in check. Would he endure another night? He was a God fearing man, despite the faults he admitted. Would he eschew deliberate surrender, or would he choose a quick and more comfortable end? The answers were back down that path. I had to believe he would choose to survive another night. The alternative was unbearable.

The Kelly’s were kind men and sought to draw me in to conversation, but I remained mute and avoided their eyes. They offered food, jerky and warmed beans, and I did eat, being unwilling to refuse that simple hospitality. Within slightly more than an hour of arriving we were settling down to sleep, the two of them facing the east end of the shelter so that I might be closer to the fire’s warmth. They knew my pain and respected it. They deserved better than what I contemplated.

I lay awake, listening as their breathing settled and they dropped off to sleep, my mind racing with plans, anger, and fear. Come morning I would take the mule and go, and I would do my best to convince them with words to let me be. If they tried to stop me… I had my pistol in my pack, and the pig knife Jeremy had fashioned for me. I would be prepared- there would be no overpowering me and trundling me off against my will. I would be calm, reasonable and firm.

And if they refused to listen…

That thought, the calm certainty of it, chilled me to the core. I would not be held from my chosen path and I had killed for far, far less. Even as I contemplated it a far colder and more calculating notion worked its way to the fore: that I should not wait, rather I should kill them now, as they slept. It brought deep, sickening pain to my heart, but try as I might I could not drive it away and as the night wore on the fear and anger grew.

What would their deaths bring? What would Jeremy think? He would never buy his life with such coin, nor would he have even a single life, willingly given, sacrificed on his account. Why else had he sent me from him?

Did he need to know? I had kept my greatest secret from him for more than six years, why not this as well? That thought was buried by the certainty I would not be capable of keeping that secret. Murder stains the inner canvas- Mr. Jerome McAllister had oft revealed his ability to see that which I might prefer he not. I would perhaps save his life, but lose that which I craved most.

I found myself in the wrenching position of risking his death that I might avoid his disapproval. I might laugh at my predicament were it not so tragic.

I wrestled with those thoughts, my mind racing back and forth between the extremes of murder and persuasion until a final, acceptable notion settled the issue. I would take my leave in the morning. Should they attempt to force me to remain with them I could not be held responsible for my actions- I would be defending myself. And if I did convince them to yield, and I returned to discover Jeremy already dead…

I would find these men. I would find them and kill them both.

Oddly enough, that resolution so settled my mind that I was suddenly aware of the most simple and effective method to ensure their compliance, short of murder. I smiled and settled back in my blankets, waiting on the dawn.

Posted on January 3rd, 2005 by Zsallia
Filed under: The Past