***
Hi! I'm back! I'm sorry for the long absence. I had a lot of fun, but it's good to be sleeping in a bed again and showering regularly and pooping in a toilet and all that 21st century stuff.
For the time being, I'm going to stick with Sunday edits (mixing it up a little bit!) and we're also back to one a week until I regain a solid buffer.
In other news, the world is trash and American politics is a dumpster fire. If you are 18 and an American citizen, you'd better fucking vote. If you're not registered, REGISTER. It's not just a right, it's a responsibility. If you're on this site, odds are that you're a girl. And listen, chickadee, our foremothers did not fight for our right to a voice just for you to shrug and wave it of because one vote doesn't count. One vote abso-fucking-lutely DOES count and you'd better cast it. Go to vote.gov like NOW. NOW. The future of the free world depends on it...
***
Katherine
"Coffee?" Melissa asked, stepping out onto the porch. Katherine looked back from where she stood with her elbows resting on the rail, trying to keep her weight off her back. Two months later and her ribs still ached when she stood upright for too long.
"Please!" She accepted the steaming mug her friend handed her, turning her attention back to the sweet scene playing out in the paddock across the yard.
Isobel sat atop a massive but painfully slow chestnut mare. The animal was so large, her daughter's tiny legs practically stuck out straight from the saddle, and she clung to the pommel for dear life. Even so, she was squealing with delight. On the other side of the enclosure, Rebecca sat atop a smaller, livelier horse as if she belonged there. Amelia hovered at her daughter's side, but the child looked as comfortable on horseback as her father.
For a long while, they didn't speak. Katherine sipped her coffee, watching her daughter and trying not to break beneath the weight of Isobel's stunning transformation. It was one thing to know that she raised her baby girl in a broken home. It was an entirely different thing to see the way that same child transformed in the presence of normality.
Both Isobel and Katherine had warmed quickly enough to Josh, but they both remained wary of the senior Tucker. Katherine didn't know how to express her gratitude that the older man had vacated his own home to give her and her child a safe place to stay. She also didn't know how to reconcile the kindly, grandfatherly man with the angry figure who used to nod vigorously along with her husband's sermons. Someday, she hoped, she would have both the words and the courage to face him.
Fortunately, Owen Tucker seemed to understand her misgivings because he left his home to his daughter's keeping. His son had been as understanding of their fear, if somewhat more present in their lives. After the first few days, with Katherine's grudging permission, he'd begun showing up around the small homestead. In carefully constructed little scenes, he'd first appeared at a distance-- exercising the horses, splitting wood, leading Rebecca's horse around while she rode in the saddle. After that, he'd gradually moved closer. He'd worked in the garden while she and Isobel sat on the porch. He'd sat in the kitchen and had coffee with his wife and sister while she and the girls had played in the living room. His presence made Katherine cringe. She knew in her mind he wouldn't hurt her, but knowing it was entirely different from believing it.
Nonetheless, eventually he'd edged his way into Isobel's life as well as Katherine's. Her clever, wary daughter had never quite given her heart to his keeping the way she'd given it to Gabe, but she at least no longer cowered in his presence. Perhaps she didn't trust him, but she at least trusted Rebecca and Amelia, and even to a child it was clear that Josh held his wife and daughter's utmost faith and love.
What would that be like? Katherine wondered, watching Josh and Amelia stop their respective horses mid lap and exchange a joke. He laughed at whatever she had said, tipping his head back toward the sky and pressing his hand to his chest as his body shook with the force of his amusement. She scowled and slugged him in the belly.
Katherine's stomach coiled. She would never dare raise a hand against her husband, even in jest. It was not God's will.
But God's will didn't seem to matter to the Tuckers. Josh just laughed harder, tugging his wife in and planting a firm, possessive kiss on her lips. Amelia turned to liquid in his grasp, her arms snaking around his neck, the reins of Rebecca's horse a loose weave through her fingers. Behind her mother, Rebecca began laughing and yelling at her parents to "stop being icky," a chant which Isobel quickly picked up.
A disgusted snort broke her loose from her daydream, and she looked sideways at Melissa. The other woman had a shoulder hitched against the post beside the stairs, and rolled her eyes when they met Katherine's.
"I wish I could say they're putting on a show," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "But it's always like this. It's been years and they're just getting worse."
Katherine thought of what her husband would say. What her husband had said whenever they saw the Tuckers, always from a distance, in town.
"Like Sodom and Gomorrah," he had hissed between his teeth. "Unrepentant and proud of their ill doings. It's grotesque and unnatural, Katherine, the way they parade their sin through the town. You mark my words, fire and brimstone will claim that entire line before the end."
Once upon a time, Katherine would have asked him what was so sinful about a husband and wife holding hands in the street or exchanging a kiss outside the general store. She'd have challenged him, asking if he truly believed it was God's will that he take the Tuckers' punishment as his responsibility rather than the Almighty's. That he include an innocent child in that punishment. But that 'once upon a time' had fallen into history long before Jacob had declared war on Amelia and Josh.
Instead, Katherine had bowed her head and folded her hands and made herself complicit in his cruelty by her silence.
"Kat?"
Melissa's voice broke through the darkness of her thoughts, and she forced a smile.
"Sorry," she said, raising her cup for a sip of coffee. The brew, heavily sugared and thick with cream, suddenly tasted like tar. It stuck in her throat and she had to swallow several times to force it down into her roiling belly. Despair began to squeeze her chest. Would even one day pass where Jacob didn't haunt her?
"Are you alright?" Melissa asked, pushing off the rail and coming to stand beside her. Behind her, the white-washed porch swing swayed gently in the breeze, the chain squeaking. "You look a little pale."
"I'm fine." The words fought her, and she knew if she so much as looked at her friend, she would cry. It was a strange phenomenon, all this crying she'd been up to lately. When she was with Jacob, she had never cried. She had been a frigid creature, her heart split in two, one half in the chest of her child and the other buried deep inside her, encased in ice.
Since her escape, that ice had begun to melt. Every time someone looked at her kindly, or asked if she was alright, another sheet sloughed away and her heart pulsed hard and painful. It hurt, this return to life.
"You're stubborn is what you are," Melissa said, joining her at the rail and mimicking her posture. She kept a few inches between them, and Katherine was grateful. Contact with anyone other than Isobel still made the little hairs rise on the back of her neck. This closeness, though, was allowable. It was safe. Escapable.
Together, they watched the little show in the paddock. The kissing had stopped, but the two disgruntled little girls still sat atop unmoving horses while Josh and Amelia laughed with each other. They were arguing about something. Katherine could tell by the way Amelia kept throwing back her head in exasperation and the way Josh kept hanging his own and shaking it. Even so, they laughed. Laughed and laughed, the sound carrying over the lawn, making every color seem brighter. The deep, clear blue of the sky and the shifting green of the grass. The distant purple-gray of the mountains and the stark white clouds that drifted, puffy and languid, overhead.
The girls joined in the argument, both cheering loudly. Rebecca bounced up and down in her saddle, and Isobel tried to do the same. Katherine's heart leapt into her throat when her daughter lost her balance and began to slip sideways. She needn't have worried. Just as quickly as Isobel had begun to slip, Josh's hand darted up and snagged her by the waist, repositioning her on the broad saddle. Isobel didn't cry or cower beneath his touch. Her daughter, Katherine noted, was more resilient than her. The thought of any man touching her sent prickly chills of dread racing up her spine.
At last the argument ended, both girls squealing with delight, though this time Isobel wisely refrained from bouncing around in her too-large saddle. Leading the horses, Josh and Amelia left the paddock and crossed the lawn, drawing to a halt beside the porch.
"Ma, can we go for a ride?" Isobel asked, giddy excitement on her face, before Josh or Amelia could open their mouths to speak.
"You're going for a ride right now, sweetheart," Katherine pointed out, confused.
"No, ma, a ride," her daughter said, pointing vaguely.
Amelia spoke up, her voice as gentle and calm as ever. "We usually ride down to the river on Thursdays," she said, gesturing toward the distant trees. "We haven't been in a while, so we thought perhaps we'd pack a picnic and go down there at lunchtime. Rebecca likes to swim when it gets hot. If you'd rather, though, we can have the picnic out back, here. I know you may not be up for a ride, quite yet."
They were not, Katherine noted, giving her a choice but to join them on the picnic. They had been doing that, lately-- gently pressing her back out into the world. Now that her body was stronger, she no longer had any excuse but her own crippling terror. And what was she so afraid of, with a little trip to the river?
Bears. Wildcats. Drowning. A tumble off a horse. A renegade bull. A freak lightning storm.
Jacob.
There were so many dangers in the world. How could she keep Izzy safe from them all? By keeping her close to the house, that was how. In truth, Katherine's body was more than ready to handle a short ride, but her soul was not ready to venture out into nature. Perhaps it never would be.
"I think there might be a storm coming," she said, refusing to follow the group's collective gaze to the peaceful blue sky. "Maybe it would be better to stay by the house."
She couldn't help the way her shoulders rolled inward as she waited for mockery. She was being absurd, and they all knew it. Jacob would tell her she was being stupid. Then again, Jacob would never offer to take her to the river for a picnic.
"You know, I think you're right," Josh said, shielding his eyes against the sun as he gazed out at the cloudless horizon.
"Perfect!" Amelia said, as if Katherine hadn't just ruined her plans with her family. "We'll set something up out back."
The girls accepted the change without complaint, but Katherine still felt like a monster. Guilt gnawed at her insides all morning, while she helped around the house. Josh and Amelia were outside with Rebecca, looking after the goats. She and Melissa tidied up inside, Isobel trailing along and helping with the odd easy task they assigned her. Katherine could tell her daughter was itching to go back outside, but neither of them were ready to be separated.
Or maybe that was just what she told herself. Maybe she was the only one still broken.
By the time the sun was high overhead, she had worked herself into a rolling boil of guilt and fear. Leaving Isobel in the kitchen with Melissa, safe and within earshot, she stepped out onto the porch and descended the solid wood steps. The grass was cool and soft against her bare feet, the sun warm on her face as she tipped her head back. The sky was still that crystalline blue, devoid of even the puffiest white clouds. It was an unusually warm day for this late in the season. There wouldn't be many more like it before autumn descended. Her stomach clenched.
Fear and guilt.
Fear and guilt and a pristine summer day.
Fear and guilt and a pristine summer day and so many ways it could all go wrong.
What was her plan, then? To hide here forever? To hide Isobel here forever? Inside, her mind battled with itself, arguing with a fervor she'd never level against anyone other than herself. It still lived inside her, though-- that wild urge to fight and win. She wouldn't dare raise her voice to a real person, but she had never stopped fighting with that little voice inside her head-- the dry, gritty, familiar rumble of her conscience.
Just one more week. We'll stay here one more week and then we'll start venturing out.
You said that last week.
Well this time I mean it! My ribs still hurt, that's all.
Don't lie, Katie. Your ribs are fine. Just admit you're afraid.
Of course I'm afraid! Jacob is still out there!
You know as well as I do that Jacob won't come near this ranch. And if he does, he'll be shot dead for trespassing. It's a best case scenario. Besides, what are you planning to do? Hide in this house until Jacob dies of old age?
Maybe I am! It's nice here!
And what about Isobel? What kind of life is that for a girl? She deserves to live.
She will! Just not this week!
Then when, Katherine?
"Izzy!" Her daughter's name cracked a little, her throat tight. She cleared it and tried again, turning to yell over her shoulder before she could stop herself. "Iz, come here a second, sweetpea!"
A second later, the gentle patter of running footsteps heralded her daughter's arrival. She turned and sank to a knee as Isobel clumsily descended the porch steps.
"Are you okay, ma?" Izzy asked, her voice muffled as Katherine wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close.
"I'm fine, Iz," she breathed, pressing a kiss to the girl's hair before pushing her back. She felt as if she might vomit, but she swallowed the urge and conjured up the words that didn't want to come. "Sweetheart, did you want to go to the river today?"
Isobel's face twisted and her gaze dropped to her toes. "It's okay, ma," she said, looking back up with such wisdom in those pretty hazel eyes, sparkling like gold in the sunlight. "I don't want to go if it's gonna rain."
Katherine sucked in as deep a breath as her ribs would allow her and smoothed an errant, inky lock of hair behind her daughter's ear.
"Well, it looks like my prediction was wrong," she said, looking pointedly at the placid sky. "Maybe we should ask Reb's ma and pa if it's not too late for a ride."
Isobel's eyes shot wide with excitement. "Really?"
"Really," she said, pushing to her feet and extending her hand. "Let's go find them and ask."
* * *
She had hoped that her fear would ease once the decision was made. Instead, it only grew worse. She sat atop a docile Palomino, aptly named Sunshine. Summer heat enveloped her, warming her skin, and bird calls filled the air as they rode through the sparse, open forest that sheltered the winding white river. Ahead of her, Melissa trotted out front of the group, pointing things out and calling back to Isobel, who was perched in front of Amelia. Behind her, she could hear the sweet exchange of low rumble and girlish chatter as Josh and Rebecca trailed behind, arguing about whether the girl was ready for her own horse.
It was a lovely scene, pristine and calm, as picturesque and peaceful as a rain-swollen brook, dancing over pebbles in sunshine.
So why, gosh drat it, was her skin prickling with unease? Why was heart beating so hard she could feel it rattling the walls of her chest and pulsing in her throat? Why couldn't she draw a full breath?
Every rustle in the leaves made her jump, and the scant yards between her horse and Amelia's felt too far. She should have kept Isobel with herself. If danger came, Amelia's priority would be her own daughter, not Katherine's.
She was soaked in sticky, cold sweat by the time they arrived at the river, her nerves drawn so tight she had to fight the urge to unhinge her jaw and just scream. Scream until all the birds took flight and the squirrels tucked themselves away in their hidey holes. Scream until the bears went into early hibernation. Scream until the sun sank down and hid beneath the hills and left her in the safety of the darkness. Scream until all these kind and wonderful people went away and he came back.
He would come if she screamed, she knew it.
Choking down the scream, she swung clumsily from the saddle. She was warm, but her hands and feet felt cold and dead, her fingers clumsy as she fumbled with the reins.
"I got it, Kat." Josh approached her from the side, careful not to sneak up on her. Like she was some kind of skittish animal. Stopping feet from her, he held out his hand and she placed the reins across his palm. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, brow furrowing. "You look a little pale."
"I'm okay," she managed, willing her numb lips not to tremble as she peeled them back in a smile that, from Josh's worried frown, came off as more of a grimace.
"We can go back," he said, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "I can make something up about work to explain it to the girls."
"No," she ground out, annoyed with his kindness and annoyed with herself for being such an ungrateful, disastrous wretch. "No. Thank you, but no. I'm fine."
"Alright. If you change your mind, all you have to do is tell me."
He left before she could say thank you again, or apologize for being snappish with him. She stood for a long moment and watched the others mill about the little spot they'd chosen. Melissa had busied herself spreading a blanket on the grass, anchored at two corners by the picnic baskets they'd brought along. Amelia was with the girls at the water's edge, all three of them crouched down, hands submerged beneath the surface. Josh was leading the horses a distance away, hobbling them and setting them up with feed bags.
Her head swam and she cast around, spotting a low rock nearby. On legs that felt like wooden stumps, she staggered to the rock and sank down, praying nobody would approach her. If anyone else asked if she was alright, all the walls would come crashing down. She needed a moment to fortify her defenses.
Her breath still wouldn't come. It felt as if her ribs were broken again, and bound so tight her chest wouldn't expand. Her hands tingled as if they were being poked by a thousand needles, and she watched as the little hairs on her arms rose up, skin prickling despite the sun beating down from above.
I can't breathe.
You can. I promise... She closed her eyes and pressed her palms to the gritty surface of the rock. There was moss beneath her right hand, a spongy softness that registered even through the unnatural chill. Breathe with me, Kat. In and out. In... and out.
Fighting against panic, she struggled to obey the imagined command, hands curling into fists. If she moved even an inch, she felt as if she would topple end over end into the sky and be swallowed whole by the vast blue emptiness.
"Katherine?"
No. Go away.
"Kat, I'm going to sit here next to you, alright?" Melissa's voice carried the practiced calm Katherine now associated with her friend's professional side. Even knowing it was a facade, the even, gentle timbre was a balm on the worn, frayed edges of her mind. She managed a slight nod, and felt the brush of fabric against her arm as Melissa sat on the rock beside her.
Instead of rushing to soothe her, or urging her to breathe, Melissa nudged her gently with a shoulder and began to speak.
"Amelia and Josh are with the girls," she said. "They're wading. Don't worry about Izzy, she's no more than ankle deep and Amelia is right there beside her. She's having fun, though, so don't worry. Nobody's paying us any mind."
Katherine doubted that was true, but she believed that Isobel, at least, was distracted. That was all that really mattered.
"I'm really happy we came out here," Melissa went on, her voice thoughtful and calm. "I think it's good for Isobel, getting out from around the house. Plus Rebecca's been talking her ear off about swimming and I think this is probably the last good day for it before the cold hits..." she trailed off on a laugh, and Katherine made out the distant sound of splashing and a happy, girlish squeal. "Well, Reb's gone for it," she said, before Katherine's mind could concoct a horrible worst-case scenario. "She's always giving Josh the slip and jumping in with all her clothes on. Although to be honest, I think he lets her. Yeah..." she laughed again. "That's not an angry man. Amelia is mad enough for the both of them, though. That was Izzy's new summer dress."
Distracted by the narrative, Katherine began to make out the distant sounds of shouting over the roar in her ears.
"Sorry, Ames, it was an accident!" Josh's voice, tight with suppressed mirth.
"It was an accident, mama!" Rebecca repeated.
"It was an accident, Miss Amelia!" Isobel's happy echo.
"Throw me, papa!" Rebecca demanded.
"Don't you dare throw her," Amelia scolded. "Reb, get out right now and get out of that dress so it can dry."
"But mama--"
"Don't even think about talking back to me, young lady. Out! Now! You too, Joshua. I swear, the two of you ruin clothes faster than we buy them!"
Grumbling and splashing, and then Isobel's small voice.
"Miss Amelia, are you really mad?"
The pause was long enough, Katherine's need to go comfort her daughter almost overcame the dizziness and the tight band around her chest. Then she heard Amelia's low, kind voice.
"No, honey, I'm not. But that'll be our secret alright? Do you want to change out of your dress too, so you can swim?"
"Is ma gonna swim?"
"I don't know, honey. I think she's going to help Aunt Mel finish up the picnic once she's rested up."
"I want to help with the picnic, too."
"Alright, then. Let's go get started."
The tightness in Katherine's chest had loosened slightly as she listened to the easy exchange, and she managed to pull in a substantial breath and open her eyes.
"Feeling better?" Melissa asked, and she nodded slightly, her head still swimming. Something nudged her hand and she looked down to see a water flask.
"Thank you," she breathed, accepting the offering. The lid was already off-- a blessing since her hands were shaking and stiff-- and she tipped it back and let a trickle of cool water wet her tongue and soothe her tight throat. "I'm sorry this keeps happening."
"Don't apologize," Melissa said, nudging her again with a shoulder. "You've been through so much, Katherine. It's normal to be a little..." she trailed off, clearly searching for a word that wouldn't cause offense.
"Unhinged? Crazed? A little bit of a flat out lunatic?" The fight in her own voice took Katherine aback, and she shut her mouth so fast her teeth clacked together, but Melissa only laughed.
"Well, that's a little dramatic. I was just going to say that it's okay to be a little bit broken. You didn't expect your body to heal immediately, why should you think your mind would be any different? You just need time."
"How much, though?"
"I don't know," Melissa sighed. "Everyone is a little bit different. You're doing well, though, Kat. You'll see it someday, how far you've come."
Someday, Katherine thought, couldn't come soon enough. She was so, so very tired of being a burden. Of being broken. Of being afraid. Yes, she had been patient with her body, but her body had only been broken for weeks. Her mind and her soul had been bent and ruined for years. She was exhausted by her own twisted weakness and the raging fear that tormented her night and day.
When she was a child she had wanted so many things-- love and adventure, happiness and wisdom. Now, she only wanted to be whole, and that pitiful yearning only made her feel worse.
Someday.