Catching the Column

On her long journey Maggie had had plenty of time to plan all the things she would say, the apologies and the regrets and the explanations. She was vaguely aware now that she could not remember any of them, but the only coherent thought in her mind was the simple repeated prayer of thanks.

"Gabe," she finally said, "I'm so tired."

George surveyed the scene and decided it was best to retreat: the cloak could wait. He turned to Vickery with a small smile and prepared to take his leave of the Riflemen.

Vickery slid from Brandy's back and held his hand out to the other officer with a smile. "Thank you for your help, Captain," he said. "She'll be fine now."

"I know, sweeting, I know," Cotton said, simply content to hold her. Would she forgive him for not being there when she needed him most? He didn't know. He just knew that, right now, she needed him to hold her. "Oh, Maggie, I've bin so worried about you, sweeting."

George shook the proffered hand with an answering smile. 'I do believe she will. She deserves to be with someone who ... cares for her.'

Vickery looked over at the pair. "She does. I believe it would be hard to find anyone who could care more for her than Cotton. She is in good hands there. And thank you again for your help, Captain Hunter."

'It was my pleasure, Captain Vickery.' Hunter mounted and wishing Vickery a good evening rode off to find the Staff group.

He had been worried. Of course he had. "I'm sorry, Gabe," she said simply. She was exhausted, but it would be all right now. Gabe would take care of everything. How could she have even considered allowing him to give her up? "I need to sit down. I'm so tired. I'm sorry, Captain Vickery," she said, speaking to the officer for the first time, apologizing for the disruption of his company's march. By now the rifles had entirely passed, and Gabe and the captain would have to catch up, and that blessed Captain Hunter was gone now with his horse, and she was too tired to run...

"Don't worry, Maggie," Vickery said. "Cotton, I'm going to leave Brandy with you. You put her on Brandy's back and stay with her. Come up to us when you can, but don't force the pace." He pulled out his notebook and a pencil and scribbled a rough note. "If anyone asks, give them that, and if they still give you trouble, direct them to me."

Cotton took the note gratefully and turned to Maggie. "Can you ride if I'm there with you, sweeting?" he asked, concerned for her. To have come up to the Division in a day... No wonder she was tired.

"No. Oh no, please captain, I don't want to ride a horse," Maggie protested, and then felt guilty for ingratitude. "Thank you all the same, sir. I'll just sit and wait for the baggage train to come past. Jenny and Joe were heading to the baggage train and they'll get me. Joe Newbury. Thank you for letting him stay, sir. We were ever so glad to have him. He's just taking Jenny to the baggage train - he's so good, sir - but I'm sure he'll be up here soon, only he's slowed down a bit on account of his side opening up a little." She found that she was babbling, animated again, but she wanted to make sure that no rifleman would get in trouble on her account.

Cotton smiled, still holding her close. "Don't fret yourself, Maggie," he said. "We'll get things sorted out, you an' me." He couldn't help looking anxiously at the Captain, who smiled.

"All right, you two can wait for the baggage to come up. And tell Joe Newbury, if you see him, that he's to report to a surgeon and not to push himself too hard. I don't want him trying to do his duties before he's fit to do them."

"Thank you, sir," Maggie said, giving him a look of inexpressible gratitude. If Vickery was not the best and kindest captain in the world... him and Captain Hunter, of course.

Vickery smiled, and mounted Brandy again.

"I will see you both later, in that case. And if he doesn't look after you properly, you just let me know, all right?"

Cotton chuckled a little before picking Maggie up. "Seems to me, sweeting, you're just about done in. What d'you think to us meetin' the baggage half-way, lass?"

She leaned her head on his supporting arm. "I don't mind waiting. You must be tired too..."

Cotton smiled and shook his head. "I had a bit of a rest this afternoon, lass, which I don't s'pose you done. And the quicker we meet up with them, the quicker you'll be able to have a proper rest. You ain't that heavy, anyways."

"A proper rest..." she repeated with a sigh. "Why're you marching so late? I thought we'd never catch up."

"Dunno," Cotton replied, glancing at the marching soldiers. "You'd have to ask the Gen'ral about that, he ain't told me." He kissed her head tenderly. "I was so... I couldn't think straight, all yesterday, Maggie, for worr'in' about you."

"Oh," she said quietly, and then after a moment added, "I'm so sorry about that, Gabe."

"It's all right, Maggie. You're here now, with me. An' I'm so very sorry for what happened. And then I thought I'd never see you again." And that had been the worst part of it all.

At some point she must have stopped crying, but now she started again. Not the smasmodic sobs from before, but quietly, ducking her head so he wouldn't see, even though it was probably too dark to see anyway. "Me too. I thought you wouldn't want me."

That brought him up sharp. She had buried her head in his shoulder so he couldn't see her face, but he tightened his hold just a little bit. "Oh, Maggie. I wouldn't - I couldn't throw you over 'cause... 'cause of that. Like... like you didn't throw me over when I was flogged."

Could her tell her about the ring? Probably now wasn't the best time. It would keep till later. And there was going to be a much better time than this to tell her about it and ask if she would marry him.

One sob did escape then, and that heavy heartsickness returned. It made no sense to feel broken-hearted when he said kind things, but perhaps it was a feeling of shame, crushing guilt for not deserving such kindness.

"Oh, Maggie."

There was a rock nearby and he moved over to it, putting Maggie down on it carefully, and holding her close, trying to soothe her a bit.

"You cry yourself out, lass. I ain't goin' anywheres, I promise."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him pressed against her heart as if to convince herself that he really would stay with her. But she had cried herself past the brink and she could do no more. Her teeth were chattering, though, and she suddenly exclaimed, "This is his cloak! Captain Hunter's cloak. He made me take it and I forgot to give it back to him."