After the Skirmish

She nodded, reassured. She was certainly glad that the tent behind them was empty for the moment. "I think I just want to sleep."

"All right then. Only, will you want me sleepin' next to you like we've done till... that night? Or should I sleep some'rs else for a bit?" Wherever he got his head down, it was going to be close enough that Maggie only had to say his name and he'd be there.

"No! Don't go away! I mean..." She moderated her tone. "Sleep by me, and I'll feel safe."

"All right, lass. If that's what you want. Only, promise me you'll tell me if I ever do or say summat that makes you think of... what happened. Or that frits you. I don't want to upset you by doin' summat that'll 'mind you of it, that's all." Her shawl had slipped a bit and he pulled it back up again.

"All right, all right," she answered petulantly, wishing he would stop saying that. She regretted it immediately. The poor man was doing the best that he could. And he was truly a saint, for all the patience and kindness he had shown. "I'm sorry Gabe. Just... don't keep talking about it. I want to forget." She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. You're so good. I'm just tired and sore and all."

"I'm sorry," he said, not quite sure what he'd done now. "You... you go to sleep if you want. Or, wait. Where's your blanket?"

"It's in me pack," she said, smiling through the remaining tears. "Sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right, Maggie. I understand. D'you... D'you mind if I get up to fetch it, though?" He stroked her hair again, reassuringly.

"That's fine. Thank you." She was already half curled on the ground, aching too much to care about the dirt.

"All right. I'll be back directly minute, so don't you go anywheres, all right?" He got up and headed over to where he'd put her things and his own pack. He unstrapped his own blanket and found hers, bringing them back over. He draped Maggie's blanket over her before rolling himself up in his and lying down next to her.

"If you want to talk, 'bout anythin', I'm right here," he said, and smiled. "Here, give's your hand."

She slipped her hand into his. "But you don't have to sleep, if you need to... clean or whatever." She closed her eyes. "I'm just... I'll be fine." No one would dare to disturb her right next to the captain's own tent. She felt confident of that.

"I'll be here. If you need anythin', just say." He kissed her head. "I won't disturb you, if I do me rifle, will I?"

"No," she murmurred into her shawl.

"All right, but I'll be as quiet as I can." He pulled a cloth out of his pocket and got his cleaning kit out of his pack before sitting down to unscrew the lock of the rifle.

Maggie could not fall asleep right away. She was sore and stiff, aching, and upset, but the sounds of camp and Cotton with his rifle were sounds that soothed by their familiarity, and she was asleep before he had finished his task.

When his rifle was as clean as he could get it in the dark, he put it back together, put his things away and wrapped himself in his blanket, lying down next to Maggie, with his rifle and sword-bayonet close at hand. He reached for her hand.

She was not yet deep asleep, and she was aware of his hand and the little adjustments he made to her blanket. It was a pleasant awareness, and she fell into a deeper sleep, comforted by his presence.

He sighed quietly to himself, reached to make sure that his rifle and sword were within reach, and his cartridge pouch and its crossbelt. He shifted a little closer to Maggie and pulled her blanket up a bit. Finally her breathing deepened a little and he lay there, listening to it before his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep himself, still holding her hand.

It was not until much later, when the camp was quiet and nearly everyone asleep, that Maggie began screaming and lashing out, fighting now as she had been unable to do before.

Cotton startled awake as Maggie lashed out, screaming. He shook her - he hoped he'd found her shoulder - trying to wake her up, even as she landed a blow on his arm. "Shh, Maggie. Sweeting, it's me. Wake up, Maggie, sweeting."

"Gabe!" she screamed, calling for him as if he were somewhere distant while she fought off her attacker alone. "Get off of me! Let go, damn you! Gabe! Help me!" But she could hear familiar voices, quiet reassuring voices and sounds from others nearby. Those people had come to help. And gradually she realized that Gabe's voice was near. And speaking calmly to her, as if the danger was gone. She was standing now, and she reached out blindly to find his hand.

He took her hand and pulled her close to him, hoping she hadn't woken the captain - or anyone else. "Ssh, ssh, it's all right, Maggie, I'm here. I ain't goin' nowhere. Easy, now. You had a bad dream. Ssh, now, I'm here." He rocked her, holding her close.

"He's there, he's there!" she gasped, pointing at her own empty blanket. "He came back, Gabe, came back to do it again! We have to stop him this time."

"He ain't here, Maggie, you was dreamin'. It's only me here, I promise you. He ain't goin' to touch you again." He was rocking her, stroking her hair tenderly, trying to soothe her as he would a frightened horse. "Ssh, Maggie, ssh. I love you, an' you'm safe now. Ssh."

"But he was there," she protested. "I felt him choking me." Feeling dizzy and a bit shy, she looked around at those who had come to investiage the sound. He would have had a hard time blending in with this crowd. She reeled on her feet and clutched Cotton's arm to keep from falling over. Ordinarily the watchers would have embarrassed her, but for the moment they were just one more confusing piece of the puzzle.

"Drink this," Jenny said, offering her a mug with a small amount in the bottom.