Great and Terrible Things

Abigail laughed and we spend the next few minutes dickering back and forth. It took a surprisingly long time to come to a price we could agree upon, but mostly because I think we were both enjoying the process so much. Besides, focusing on Domino let us ignore both of the elephants in the room, our attraction for each other and the concern that Alby would follow-up on his threat.

I'd feel better when we were done with Twisted River. It was a nice little town and I liked most of the people I'd met, but I felt too exposed here. It was frustrating that we couldn't move Miles. Frankly, if we could I think I would have pushed to bringing him home instead of staying. I doubt William or Abigail would have argued.

"I was married at sixteen." I was surprised by Abigail's change in topic until I saw that my glass was empty. "The war had just started and Jonathan, who'd been courting me for months was scheduled to leave to join the confederate army soon when he asked my father for my hand. It seemed so romantic at the time." There was a wistfulness in her expression as she remembered her lost innocence.

"We were married and had exactly one night together before he had to leave." She took a moment to make sure there was nothing left in the glass. "The next five years were a horror. I can still remember the sounds of the cannons off in the distance. We were forced from our homes more than once and food became scarce. The inside of my parents' house was left in ruins after one such occasion."

Abigail shifted her gaze to me. Her pain filled eyes were clear and focused. It slowly dawned on me that the alcohol wasn't the reason she started talking about her past. No, she was sharing her story with me now because of the decision about us she made earlier. The alcohol was just something to help her get through it.

"I saw the bodies of friends and neighbors being brought back home after they'd died in battle. I was certain one day they would delivery Jonathan to me in the same way, but instead it was my brother George. I'd thought him safe, posted far from the front, but he was killed in a raid."

There was nothing I could say to that, but I did offer a silent prayer that it wasn't one of the ones I was involved in. My earlier days as a scout during the Great Rebellion had me raiding plenty of southern towns.

"My mother was the next to die, not long afterward. She took ill and nothing we could do cured her. My father's death quickly followed. They said it was sickness that took him too, but I think it was a broken heart." I thought to get her another drink, but couldn't leave while Abigail was in the middle of sharing her story. Besides, tonight wasn't a night to get drunk.

That didn't stop me from reaching out and taking her hand, despite the impropriety of doing so. Abigail smiled sadly and squeezed with a surprising amount of strength before she returned to her story. This was clearly not something she shared often. I felt honored despite the difficulty of watching her in such obvious pain from the memories.

"Jonathan's family took me in. I was their daughter-in-law after all." She shook her head ruefully. "Of course, the fact that my mother was originally from the north was a bone of contention with Jonathan's mother despite the fact that we lived in Virginia my whole life and my brother had fought and died for the confederacy."

"I was so relieved when the war finally ended. It was pretty obvious for months before that the south was going to lose. Jonathan's family, particularly his mother, didn't take it well. It bothered her that I was just happy it was over, but I didn't care. Jonathan would be returning home soon and we could get on with our lives as husband and wife. That's all I cared about." She paused, looking away. I was sure it was to regain control of her emotions. Eventually, she turned back to me.

"It took him a year to finally show up, and the man who returned was not much like the one I'd married." The sadness in her expression was heartbreaking. "To be fair, I wasn't the girl he'd left behind either, but it was more than that. Jonathan was a shell of the man he used to be. Plain and simple, he was broken and nothing I did seemed to help."

"It wouldn't," I said confidently. I'd seen the same in others who served during the war. Hell, I had my own demons that kept me up some nights. "Each man has to work through it on their own way. The important thing to remember is that it wasn't your fault. His either."

"Maybe not," she said slowly, briefly smiling in appreciation of my words. "But that's not how it seemed at the time. We stayed in his parents' house because Jonathan was in no shape to take care of himself, much less a home of his own. I did what I could to help, but his mother all but shut me out. It was obvious that she somehow blamed me for what he'd become."

"Maybe it was because my mother was originally from the north or maybe it was because I could do nothing to help her son. I don't know. I guess in the end it doesn't matter. The bottom line was that the next four years were the hardest of my life, even worse than the war with the exception of the few months around when I lost my parents and brother."

Abigail stopped speaking. I wasn't sure if she'd shared everything she could or was trying to build the courage to continue. I waited patiently.

"I'm not sure how much longer I could have survived like that, but it doesn't matter in the end because everything changed when one of Jonathan's friends from his army days showed up. I took an instant dislike for the man, but there was nothing I could do about it when my husband insisted the man was going to stay with us for a week."

"A few days later the two stayed up half the night drinking before Jonathan came to my room and woke me, which honestly, was odd by that point. He slept most days in his old childhood room. It didn't take long for me to realize it wasn't my husband. It was his so-called friend." She looked at me more intently at that point. I made sure to make eye contact so she knew I was there for her. "You know, I can't remember his name. I've tried, but my mind refuses to recall it."

"I fought against what he wanted, but he was strong. I did knee him once, but it was only a glancing blow. That's when he pulled the knife and pressed it against my face. I felt the blade part the skin. It didn't even hurt at first." I squeezed her hand and she shook her head, smiling bravely.

"He finished and rolled off of me, panting from his release. I guess he thought since he was done that it was over. Either that or he was too drunk to focus after he got what he wanted. In either case, it didn't take much to rip the knife from his hand and thrust it deep into his stomach."

"I stumbled out of the room afterward to find my husband passed out on the couch. I shook Jonathan awake just before I passed out from the pain, shock and blood loss."

"My next memory was waking up alone and in a hospital. I'm not sure how long I stayed that way before my mother-in-law visited. She looked terrible, like she'd aged a hundred years since the last time I saw her, and I knew it wasn't on my account. By this point, it was obvious that the woman hated me." She fell silent again, only this time it lasted a while.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling Abigail was having difficult finishing her story and knowing she needed to get it out if she had any chance of ever really getting over what happened. She took a deep breath before nodding in thanks and then continuing.

"Poor, broken Jonathan wasn't able to live with what he'd brought into the house. He roused the house, got me the hospital, made sure I was going to be okay and then returned home. Sometime in the middle of the night he shot himself in the head."

Abigail took a moment to gather herself. She was obviously close to tears, but she refused to let them fall. I'm sure it was partly due to the fact that we were sitting in the hotel lobby. Still, I knew holding off crying wasn't healthy. She'd need the release eventually and I hoped I was there to help her through it when it finally happened.

Abigail eventually recovered enough to speak again. She shook her head and smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes as she added in a more normal voice, "Needless to say, Jonathan's mother blamed me, called me some unkind things and then told me never to return to her house."

"I'm sorry." It was a foolish this to say, but then again, what else could you to say to a story like that?

"I'd been hiding money since my parents' death. At first, because I was certain Jonathan would die during the war and his mother would put me out. Later, I kept to it for any number of reasons, but the bottom line was that had enough money to hold me over until Uncle William agreed to take me in. By that time, I'd known I was pregnant and warned him."

"I used the last of my money to travel here. It was a difficult journey, but I made it and thankfully, Billy came along and gave me a reason to live." She looked drained, and became lost in her thoughts once more.

"You named Billy after your uncle, right?" I knew the answer, but I figured she needed something else to focus on for a few minutes. She nodded once in appreciation, understanding what I was doing.

"Yes," she replied with a slow smile. "Up until recently, he was the only man I trusted since I got this scar."

"What about the knife? How did you end up with it?" It was an odd question, but it's what popped into my head, and I just knew that talking about anything was better for her than keeping silent at this point.

"The hospital had it. They thought it was weird when I asked for it, but they gave it to me before I left."

"The Henry's yours too, isn't it?" It was something else we could talk about to give her a chance to recover.

"Yes," she admitted. "I'm pretty good with it too."

"I expect so," I said easily. I thought maybe it was time to change the subject. "So, about Domino's price..." She laughed so hard that it didn't seem strange when she wiped the corners of her eyes, but I knew that it had more to do with just her laughter. Abigail eventually regained control of herself and when she did, she didn't want to talk about the horse.

"You're the first person I've told the full story to. Not even Uncle William knows all of the details." I felt honored, but I didn't think she'd want to hear that so I remained silent. "No one around here knows how Billy came into existence except you, Uncle William and me. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course," I said easily. She nodded in thanks.

"There's plenty of rumors flying about, but the only thing I've ever admitted to was that my husband died and I came to live with my uncle and aunt afterward." She paused, deep in thought for a moment before adding, "I'm sure they'll be another set of rumors after my confrontation with Luther this afternoon, but so be it. Frankly, they'd just about have to be better than what really happened."

I did my best to offer what comfort I could, but there was little I could do. We sat in silence for a few moments before she finally asked, "What's your story?"

I knew why she was asking the question. In part, I'm sure she was curious, but mainly it was because sharing her story made her feel vulnerably and she needed me to open up to her to make it okay. I couldn't deny her that.

"Well, you know the first part of it, about my family and the war," I began, but then hesitated. Oddly, it wasn't a matter of deciding what to tell her, just how to do it. "Well, after I stayed in the army..."

We were interrupted by the arrival and a disheveled man probably in his late twenties or early thirties. It's not that he was dirty or even drunk, just not well put together. The star on his chest didn't help any.

I hadn't even realized we were still holding hands until Abigail let mine go. It made sense since many would consider it indecent, but I got the feeling that wasn't why she did it. Abigail clearly didn't like the man.

"Mrs. Collier." The greeting was perfunctory. Abigail simply nodded in response. That's when he turned toward me.

"Marshal, what can we do for you?" I figured being pleasant was the best approach. It was probably a waste of time because when a man wearing a badge and rumored to be bought and paid for like he was shows up not long after what happened with the Murphys, the odds are pretty good the conversation wasn't going to go well.

"We don't take kindly to strangers here who threaten the locals," the man began gruffly, proving me right. I noticed that he had problems meeting my eyes as he spoke. He was clearly nervous. The smell of fear was too obvious to miss.

"And I don't take kindly to locals who draw on my friends and keep everyone at bay while a boy gets beat," I retorted. "Or marshals who don't bother to get all the facts before coming to a decision."

"I want you out of town by sunset." He'd tried to sound authoritative, but he was less convincing than the rawest second lieutenant I'd ever met. I was certain he was a large part of why Twisted River was having problems with roughnecks and cowboys. A man like this would have problem keeping the peace even if he wasn't Murphy's lackey.

"That's not going to happen." I said it calmly, but with no bend. "I have no desire to stay here longer than I have to, but I won't leave my friends here and they can't leave because Miles is too hurt to move according to Doc Jenson."

"I expect that Mr. Phillips and some of his hands will be here later tonight or tomorrow morning to care for his son. We'll be leaving town after that. We need to get back to the ranch," Abigail added. She then paused and smiled, not nearly as coldly as she did earlier facing Luther, but enough to make a man like the marshal uncomfortable. "You might want to come up with an explanation of how his son was hurt so badly. Mr. Phillips doesn't strike me as a forgiving man, or a fool so I wouldn't waste my breath trying to blame Josiah."

"Fine, then you have until morning." The level of fear in his eyes had gone up a bit. I guess Abigail's warning struck a nerve. "And you need to hand in your gun." I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, making him swallow hard and add, "Everyone does after what happened tonight. Townsend's got the town council buzzing and they're insisting."

"Seems reasonable," I said, but remained motionless. He was obviously waiting for me to give him my Peacemaker. The man was a damned fool. "And I'll hand mine over as soon as you're done collecting both of Alby Murphy's Scofields." Just the mention of the Alby made the marshal blanch.

"You'll hand in your guns or else!" he snapped with far more backbone than he'd shown so far, but then he ruined it by adding, "My deputies will be here shortly to collect it. They're on their way." Apparently, he was only brave when it was his deputies taking the risk and not him.

"Marsal, let me know when you want to meet and take my statement of how my son and cousin were held at gunpoint by Alby and his friends while Thomas beat on an unconscious Miles." Abigail was still smiling at the man coldly and it was clearly starting to unnerve him. "I'm sure there are plenty of other witnesses you can get statements from as well, including Mr. Townsend. This way you'll have everything you need for when the sheriff shows up."

The man might be coward, but he wasn't stupid. He turned and left without another word. I knew he'd be back with his deputies soon and that he'd be more difficult to deal with when that happened. I was also pretty sure they were bought and paid for by Murphy as well.

"I think maybe a walk in the fresh air will do me some good. I don't want to be here when he returns with his friends and I think it's past due I take a look around."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I appreciated the offer and frankly, I liked her company more than I should, but I said no.

I didn't want to leave the rest of her family alone tonight, even for a little while. William could handle himself, but he was up in years and could use another cool head. Someone dangerous and not afraid of doing what was necessary. Besides, he hadn't returned from Hatti's yet. One of the things I needed to do while I was out, was check on him.

"No thanks. I'll be back soon." Abigail nodded, somehow understanding what I wasn't saying. She didn't tell me to be careful this time, but I saw it in her eyes. I saw a lot more than that.

Abigail's story was dark and sad, but her sharing it with me only added to our growing closeness. Some men might have been unprepared for a woman like Abigail, but for a man who lived the kind of life I had, she was a perfect fit. If I could go back and save her from what happened, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but by the same token, I couldn't regret how it made her the woman she was today.

I guess I hesitated while looking at her a little too long because she once again got that knowing smile of hers. Suddenly, it was all I could do not to lean over and kiss her. It struck me that I'd never wanted to kiss a woman as much as I did her. It also struck me how dangerous it would be.

"I best be going." My voice sounded rough even to my own ears. Abigail's smile grew, but she didn't stop me from leaving.

It was still light out and would be for hours. We'd eaten dinner early and this time of the year the sun stayed up long, but despite that the town had emptied out considerably. It was almost as everyone knew something was up and decided to head home. It was probably true in a town this size.

I didn't blame them. I'd recognized how dangerous Alby was the moment I'd laid eyes on him. They had months to see the same. They had to know that anyone who stood up to him was just asking for trouble. These were families, not the law, or even soldiers. It wasn't their job to stand up to a man like Alby.

It wasn't mine either any longer, but right now his sights were set on me, Abigail's family and the hotel owner, Mr. Townsend. I was sure the next time I saw Alby he'd be out for blood. I was also sure he wouldn't be alone. He'd bring a bunch of killers with him. The ones his father sent away with him and whatever like-minded individuals he'd found here. Men like Luther.

Truth be told, the part of me that was a soldier told me it was time to retreat and regroup. The smart move was to leave town. The odds were against me and I expect they were only getting worse. I didn't have a death wish and there was only so much one man could do against Alby and his friends.

Only, it wasn't just me who was Alby's target. I couldn't leave Abigail or her family to face him alone and they wouldn't leave Miles who couldn't be moved. So, here I was wishing desperately for a handful of my former troopers, but knowing I was on my own.

There was a chance nothing would happen tonight, but if Alby didn't make a move today then by tomorrow he's have to face Miles' family and their ranch hands as well. He was too smart for that. Besides, he wasn't the patient type. The sickness inside of him would demand retribution and he either couldn't or wouldn't control it. If he could, his father would have had to send him away. No, Alby would come soon. I was certain of it.

I didn't sneak through the town, but then again, I didn't do anything to draw attention to myself either. The feel of the town had changed considerably since we'd first arrived. Something dangerous was in the air. It wasn't long before I was at where the river shifted north.

I had a general sense of where Hattie's place was so I followed the river until I spied William's wagon. The house it was in front of was quiet. I knocked, but no one came to the door. Knowing William, he'd warned Hattie and her family to stay out of town and go visit friends. That sounded like the man, but there was no way he'd leave his family alone as long as he had if he sensed danger, and Alby's threats were definitely that.