10th June - After the argument

He looked down at the top of her head. "Breathe slow, do," he urged. "An' I wouldn't have married you if I wasn't sure, really sure. Thing is, though, are you sure you want to, really want to?"

She leaned into his shoulder and closed her eyes, not answering for a few moments. She was not sure. When she finally spoke, she said, "I'm tired, Gabe."

"D'you mean sleepy-tired or... or...?" he asked. "I'll carry you back to our fire if you want me to." He sighed a little. "I'm tired, too. I allus seem to say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, an' I wish I didn't."

She shook her head. How could she say it? "I'm tired of... living." She looked up at him with her red nose and her swollen eyelids and her red-rimmed blue eyes. "I can't do it."

"Oh, Maggie." He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Will you let me help, if I can? I love you, an' I know I don't allus get it right." Lately, he had seemed to get it wrong far more often than he got it right, of course. "Only..." He paused for a moment, bracing himself, and picked her up, one arm around her shoulders and the other behind her knees.

"Only, you need to trust me, that I don't mean to do it wrong an' hurt you. 'Cause I'd never hurt you, I swear on me mother's grave."

"I know," she sniffed. "I'll try." She looked up at his face and gave him a sad smile. "Put me down, silly. I'm heavy."

"You ain't that heavy," he replied. "Not when I've spent me whole life ploughin' an' hoistin' hay, anyway. Though I don't think I could carry you much further than our fire." He managed a smile of his own and finally put her down near their own fire.

"I'm goin' to pour us each a cup of tea, an' then I'm goin' to wrap you up in your blanket an' see if the captain needs anythin' else. An' then I'm goin' to get me own blanket an' come over an' sleep next to you, all right?"

He was really talking for the sake of it, but somehow, it had always helped him to know what his mother was doing, when he was younger and feeling unwell. Maybe it would help Maggie, too?

She smiled and nodded, watching him as he worked. Ordinarily she would have felt guilty to sit idle while he was so busy, but right now she was too tired. Her head hurt from crying. Tea and sleep sounded ideal.

"There," he said, a few moments later, bringing a tin cup of tea over to her. "Jus' you sip that. I'll be wanted in a bit to saddle Captain Padstowe's horse for him. You won't mind that, will you? An' then I'll have me jacket off an' lay down next to you." He kissed her forehead again, wishing that he could expect his conjugal rights... but he couldn't, not yet. He hoped he would, one day, but it wouldn't be right to demand that, not when Maggie was so fragile.

She hunched over the steaming cup and nodded as he spoke. She almost did not say it, thinking that in case he did decide to give her up, he shouldn't have to worry about her feelings. But she persuaded herself that he would not even remember her words, if that time ever came, and she would be able to convince him that she was content. "I love you, Gabe."

He smiled at her. "I love you too, Maggie. I'm sorry I was so... cross an' all. I dunno what come over me." He turned to get her blanket for her and wrapped it around her shoulders, and paused for a moment, holding her. "I wish I could make things better for you. I know I don't allus get things right, but I'm tryin' me best. Please... Would you be a bit patient with me when I get it wrong, please?"

She sniffed and smiled up at him, a sweet and sad mix of a smile. "Of course." She really did love him. How could she have been so angry, when he was so good?

She wrapped her arms tighter around him, wishing not for the first time that captains could just look after themselves for once. "Don't go away. Please don't go!" She regretted the words almost as soon as she blurted them out, for she knew he had duties to attend. There was no point in making him feel guilty about it. She had learned that long ago with Jem.

"It's only for a very quick minute," Cotton said, and paused. "Here, I put you down in the wrong place. If you shift over here," he carefully adjusted her position here so that she could see the Captain and his tent without having to move, "you'll be able to still see me, an' I don't think I'll be wanted for anythin' much, not now, an' I'll be right back over here afore you know it"

This made her laugh for some reason. "Go on then. I'll be all right." Then she remembered something. "Did the captain like his cakes?" Though it would have been just like the silly bugger not to even notice them. Was she calling the captain a silly bugger in her mind? Well, yes she was, and he deserved it. He had been a bit insufferable while Cotton had been gone.

Cotton nodded. "He did. Though, he'd've had to be dam... pretty near dead not to've liked 'em." He smiled fondly at her. "You'm a real good woman, Maggie." He wanted to say more, but was afraid to spark off another row. She had been very emotional recently, and in the strangest way sometimes, which Cotton could understand even if he didn't know what to do about it or how he could best help her.

She smiled, imagining the compliments the captain would have delivered if he had spoken to her in person. She kissed her husband on the cheek. "All right. Dismissed. Go on and come back."

"Love you," Cotton told her, before heading over to the officers. All that was needed was more wine so he ducked into the tent to bring out a decanter, placing it carefully on the grass near Vickery's chair before being dismissed.

Maggie was practically asleep when he came back over, and he unstrapped his blanket from his pack and wrapped himself up in it, lying down next to Maggie and putting his arm around her.

"I wish I could make things all right for you. You ought to have things be all sunshine an' roses an' happiness, sweeting," he said into her hair.