Catching the Column

Cotton smiled over her head. "Well, I'll find him later and give it back. I'm sure he won't mind you borrowin' it for a bit longer. He'll be easy enough to find, after all, seein' as he's a staff officer."

He sat down next to her. "What's it goin' to take to make you realise, inside, that I love for you for who you are, though, Maggie?" Not that he really expected her to be able to answer that question. He just wanted to hear her voice; there was something inside him that was afraid this would all turn out to be a dream and he would wake to find her still in Coimbra, planning on leaving him for good to go back to England.

She let go of him then, her arms going limp and her head hanging. "I'm sorry, Gable," she said meekly. She felt rebuked and ashamed. "I'm sorry."

Now he felt confused. What did she have to be sorry about? It wasn't like she'd chosen to go with that man the other night - especially if he was who Cotton though it was.

"Maggie, I don't understand. What have you got to be sorry for?"

"I mean..." It would sound foolish to say it out loud. "What you were saying." She had disappointed him, perhaps hurt him, by what she said. He would think she didn't love him, or that she thought he didn't love her. "It's only been a couple weeks, though, and lots of men do that. Cast off their woman when she's been... ruined." Perhaps she did still have the ability to cry after all.

She thought... She really thought he could do that to her? He was shaking his head, no, but she wasn't looking at him.

"Maggie. Oh, sweeting, Maggie, look at me, do." He cupped her chin gently in his hand to raise her head and turn it to look at him - not that she'd be able to see him, really, in this darkness. "You're still you, inside, Maggie. Ain't anythin' goin' to change that, not less'n you let it. An' me, well, I ain't goin' to let some bastard change what we've got. You didn't throw me over when I lost me character and was flogged, did you? An' I'm goin' to stick with you now. If... if you'll let me."

She nodded. She could not see his face clearly, and she knew he probably could not see hers either - which was a blessing, since she probably had ugly bruises and more - but he would know she was nodding. She felt sorry she had mentioned it. It must hurt him to know that she had trusted him so little. And yet - "I wouldn't have blamed you," she said, trying to soften the blow. She may have believed he was capable of abandoning her, but only because it would have been the natural thing to do. Especially with her so far away: out of sight and out of mind. It would have broken her heart, but she could not have blamed him.

Her leg twitched, jumped of its own accord, and she folded it up under her.

"But I'm sorry for thinking that. I guess I'm not... I guess I'm still not used to you, is all." She hoped he would understand. She was not used to anyone actually loving her except Jem, and he had known her forever. Now her elbow twitched. The emotional strain and the exhaustion and physical pain were taking their toll with twitches and hiccups and a heavy heart.

"I know. Like I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd left me when I was flogged."

He could feel her shaking a little, and wasn't sure whether it was from the cold, exhaustion or simply because she was over-wrought with emotion. He slipped his hand into his pocket, and pulled the ring out. He took Maggie's hand and pressed the ring into it, before pulling her close to him again.

"You gave me your locket to wear that night, d'you remember?" he said. "And I knew, then, that you weren't goin' to leave me. And I said as I'd get you summat to wear, one day. And the trainin' day we had, I won a guinea, did you know that? And I had that made from it. Well, part of it. And I want you to have it now, and one day, when you want to, it'll be a wedding ring for you. But only when you want."

"What?" she squeaked. It came out sounding more incredulous than she intended, but she stared at his face and at her own hand in disbelief. And there was indeed a ring lying in the palm of her hand, warm from being in his pocket. She could see the moonlight shining on it. "Where... You had it made from a guinea?"

"In Coimbra. And it wasn't the whole thing. I just wanted you to have a proper ring, that's all. It wasn't like there was anythin' else to spend it on - not after the whole Company was given enough money to get drunk on for weeks."

Maybe this hadn't been a good time.

"It's got our names engraved on it, too," he said, lamely. As though that would help.

She stared at him through the dark, an anguished look on her face, and wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

He held her close, as tightly as he dared, and bent his head brush a gentle kiss over her lips.

That made her flinch away, her hands quickly drawing back to cover her lips. "No! No." And then she hung her head. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Gabe."

He dropped a kiss lightly on the top of her head instead, though her flinch had cut him to the heart.

"Don't be, Maggie. I'm sorry. If... if I ever do anythin' to make you think of... that, please tell me, 'cause I don't want you be upset or... or anythin' like that, through summat I do."

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "It's not you. I guess I'm just tired and jumpy. Thank you for my ring, Gable. I can't wait to see it in sunlight." She put it on her finger and stared at it, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"We'd best get you somewhere you can rest, then," Cotton said, pleased she liked his gift.

He looked up to find that they had been sitting there longer than he'd realised; the baggage was passing them. He got to his feet.

"Do you... d'you mind if I carry you, Maggie?" he asked, uncertain of himself, and unsure what would help her, or hurt her, now.

She smiled and stood up. "No, of course not. But I really can walk these last few steps. I'll just find someone with a wagon who'll let me ride, and I'll be able to sleep all night. Jenny has my pack, and I don't know where she is, but I'll be all right without it for tonight."

"I'm stoppin' with you for tonight, Maggie, less'n you really don't want me to." His voice was firm, permitting no argument. He wondered if the surgeon would let Maggie ride in his wagon. Whatever vehicle she found, he would stay nearby, walking beside it, for as long as necessary.

"But Captain Vickery said - !"

"Captain said to come up when we could but not to force the pace. An' that's when he thought you'd be ridin' Brandy alongside the Company. I can get up there tomorrow - he'll know where I am tonight. And I ain't leavin' you on your own tonight, Maggie and that's final, sweeting."

She felt dizzy with exhaustion by now, too tired to think, so she simply nodded her agreement. Gabe would know how best to deal with his own captain, after all.

And here was a half-empty wagon. Cotton stepped out to have a quick word with the driver before picking Maggie up and taking her over to it, carefully helping her up. He made sure she was comfortable, with Captain Hunter's cloak tucked round her to keep her warm, and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before scrambling back down to the ground, unsure of whether she would want him next to her after everything she'd been through.

"Won't you sit by me?" she asked, opening her eyes when she heard him climb down. She reached out her hand, the ring faintly glinting on her finger.

He smiled. "I wasn't sure you'd want me to, but I will, if that's what you want." He scrambled back up, glad to get his pack off and wrap himself in his blanket before sitting next to her and wrapping his arms around her. He tenderly pulled her head down onto his shoulder. "It'll work out all right, lass, I promise it will."

She smiled and closed her eyes, and in less than a minute she was asleep at last.

It took a little longer for Cotton to drift off, but eventually his head rested on top of hers and he, too, was asleep.