In the surgeon's wagon

"Well, what'm I s'posed to say, if I think summat were my fault? An' if you want to talk about things, you know I'll listen to you." He gave a little sigh. "I ain't Jem Balstrode, and I don't want to take his place for you, 'cause I know he was special for you. So you shouldn't have to feel that I am takin' his place, you know? And if I've upset you by sayin' that, lass, I am sorry, 'cause I didn't mean to."

"I know. But it's not your fault that he's gone, and it's his death that makes me sad. I can't help feeling sad when I think about him, but that doesn't mean I want to stop thinking about him altogether, and I don't want you to feel like you need to apologize just for making me think of him." She gave him a gentle smile. "I know he's not coming back. But I knew him my whole life, and it will take a while to get used to him being gone. But you have nothing to apologize for. You only make things better." Her eyes drifted away with a memory. "You've always only made things better. Even that first night, when you gave me a cup of tea. I didn't say thank you or anything, but I was grateful for it, even though I was barely noticing anything. I did notice it was you being kind."

"Thank you for the compliment." You always make things better - you've always only made things better... That made him smile.

"Do you want to talk about him a bit? 'Cause sometimes talkin' about somone make it... makes feel like they ain't really gone. 'Cause they're only really gone when we forget them." He bit his lip, hoping she would understand what he meant.

"Will you tell me about what he was like in a battle? I mean, generally?"

"He was brave. Kept going, kept the men thinkin' about what they should be doin'. Never let anyone slack off and keep out of the fightin'. We... we couldn't believe it when he was killed. It was towards the end of the battle - only we didn't know that then - and he'd been urgin' his squad on. And the French had been trying to get him, only it'd seemed like nothin' could touch him, at all. And then one bullet came, out of nowhere, and it was over. He never knew about it. It didn't hurt him, I swear. Right through the heart, and he was dead before he touched the ground. I promise, he didn't suffer."

That was important, to both of them, Cotton knew.

She stared at the canvas wall of the wagon, the minute threads woven together, creamy white but flecked with brown here and there. She had heard it before, but it still seemed unreal because she had not witnessed it herself. "Was he... happy?"

"I think so. He was doin' a job he was good at, with men who liked him. I think the only thing that would've made him happier would have been seein' you, but then, he wouldn't have wanted you to see him die."

It wasn't easy talking about it, but Cotton hoped it was helping Maggie a bit. And it was nice, talking like this about someone he'd liked and admired.

"So the men liked him?" She knew that they had, but she wanted to hear it again.

"Yes. He never asked 'em to do anythin' he wouldn't do hisself, and they knew it. Always had a smile and a joke to cheer folks up with, and he knew what to do in battle, too."

She smiled. "Yeah. That was Jem."

"I know you miss him," Cotton said. "That's all right. I do, too, only not the same way, o' course."

"Do you think you'll die in a battle?" It was only a question. Her eyes looking up at his were not anxious, but mildly curious.

"No. Never have thought I'd die in battle. I'll either go back to Kent and end up bein' a farm labourer again, or I'll stay in Mister Vickery's service and go to his home, with him."

(Hey-ho, time for bed for me!)

Maggie had never stopped to consider that Captain Vickery might have a home. She frowned. "Go to his home? With him?"


[good night!]

"That's what I always thought. He comes from Hampshire - or is it Wiltshire? Can't remember. And he talks sometimes about goin' home and findin' hisself a girl, when this war's over. And I always thought as how I might end up goin' along." He smiled at her. "O' course, now I've got you to think about, as well. But wouldn't you like that? Goin' to live in the Shires some'rs, to keep an eye on the Captain?"

"I suppose... I suppose that would be pretty good." She blinked in surprise, trying to imagine it. "I never really thought about after the war very much. I guess I sort of thought I would just go back to Dewsbury, work in the mill like everyone else. Or maybe run a shop like Jem's family." She looked at him shyly. "Or... Well, I never really planned that far ahead because... Didn't you ever think you might die young?"

"Sometimes. But I'd rather plan things like I'm goin' to live till I'm old, in case I do. If you think you'll die young, you won't get anythin' done in case of dyin', like. Though I don't really think about afterwards all that much, really. I'm too busy runnin' around after the Captain, usually." He shifted to get a bit more comfortable, and smiled at her.

"I guess I always figured if I don't make plans, I won't be disappointed." She sighed wearily. "Life just keeps going. But, here I am with you. I never would have expected that, not even a week ago." And she gave him a smile.

Had it really been less than a week? Of course it had... yet in some ways it felt like forever, a wonderful 'forever'. And then he shifted, reaching out an arm, and remembered that it hadn't all been wonderful, at all. He bit back a gasp.

"Stupid of me. I might remember not to do that, one day." He looked at her, content, and more than content, to be here with her. "I never expected it either, and wouldn't have planned for it. But sometimes the things you don't plan for are the best things."

"That's true." She smiled remembering their conversation on the last night in Lisbon before the march. "So if you never expected or planned it either, what made you ask me all of a sudden when we were at that tavern?"

"Because... because...beacause... I don't know. I realised I like you, and wanted you to like me, a bit. I wanted to get to know you better. And... and I wanted you to be happy, and thought I might be able to make you happy. Even a little bit happy, anyway."

"But..." She shook her head, looking perplexed but amused. "You just decided you liked me, right then and there?"

"No. I knew I liked you before that. I just didn't know how much I liked you before... So I had to ask. But I'd wanted to ask before then. And then I realised how much I like you, and then I thought I should ask and... I be gettin' you all confused now, don't I?"

"No..." She frowned slightly. "Well, yes."

"I'm sorry."

He tipped his head to one side. "See, I liked you before then, only it wasn't till earlier that day that I knew how much, an' that I'd like you to be my girl. An' then we got to talkin', and I knew that if I didn't say it then, I'd likely never say it. And it was only that night that I knew just exactly how much I like you... only I like you more than that, now."