They had no hope of finding shelter for that night – the last night they would spend in the open – until they chanced upon a dilapidated, and obviously abandoned, house.
Kitty would have described it as a hovel, but she did not want to upset Thomas, clearly delighted in his discovery. “Yes, we could certainly spend the night here,” she said, forcing open the front door and coughing as a cloud of dust welcomed her in.
“This is just perfect,” enthused Thomas, “for I was a little concerned, to tell the truth, of you sleeping another night under the stars. ‘Tis not advisable for young ladies.”
She tried to hide the unbidden wry smile. Little did he know she had spent the best part of a year sleeping each night ‘under the stars’.
“I thank you,” she said audibly. “It is a fine idea, I must say.”
His cheeks glowed with pleasure at the praise, and she could not help but get a little warm herself. She seemed to have such an effect on him, this man. She could not put her finger on the reason why, and when she was honest with herself, she rather hoped she would not find out why. Most men were the same.
But most men, on the other hand, could not creep out as the sun was setting and the fireflies began to light up, and capture, kill, and skin a rabbit before the moon had risen.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Kitty stared at him in amazement as he expertly readied the meat for the fire. “And why have you not done it before?”
She found her mouth was watering at the thought of food that wasn’t stale bread and dried bacon, and he laughed at her.
“You will soon learn at Sweet Grove, we are a little cut off from everywhere else. Merely going to El Seco and returning is a day’s task, which means taking what food you can from the land.”
His fingers moved effortlessly, without thinking, and she was mesmerized by his talent.
“I did not find a rabbit the last few nights, but you can see,” and he jerked his head to their left, “a warren in the hillside. It seemed too obvious not to take a look.”
“What are the chances we would find both food and shelter here tonight?” Kitty found herself saying, and Thomas laughed.
“Do not tell me you are going to start believing in chance now!”
The flames soon grew, and before long, succulent drips of fat were splatting into the fire, whetting her appetite as she stared hungrily at the cooking meat.
Thankfully, it was not long before Thomas announced the meal to be done. They left it for a few minutes, and once it was cool enough to touch they ripped into the food with grateful hearts.
Kitty licked her fingers as she leaned against the outside of the house. “Thank you, Thomas. That was delicious.”
He grunted in response, hands resting on his stomach as he grinned lazily.
“It reminds me of – ” But Kitty faltered. If she had not been careful, she would have lapsed into telling him . . . but she would not speak of that night.
He glanced upwards at her. “Reminds you of what?”
She looked at him; his beard and smile were moving as one, and his kind eyes – for they were kind, she could see that now – were resting on her. He had bared his all to her, and she had barely told him a thing. Perhaps now was the time. Perhaps he was the person. Perhaps it was time to let go.
“The last time I ate rabbit,” Kitty said wistfully, fingers picking at the skirt of her gown, “was the night before I ran away from home.”
Thomas sat up a few inches and looked at her, but he said nothing. His eyes were encouraging enough without words.
“I was young,” she continued, unable now to meet his gaze. “There were few people in our acquaintance, and I had not seen much of the world. Any of the world, really, save for parts of San Antonio. And it was much smaller then. It was inevitable, I suppose, that I would eventually be introduced to Mr Ernest Gilman.”
A log shifted in the fire. It threw up sparks and lit up her face in greater relief.
“Mr Gilman was a nephew of a neighbor, and he regularly visited them when I was a child. It was when I turned fifteen that I realized far from more than merely noticing Mr Gilman, it was Mr Gilman who was starting to notice me.”
A wry smile, and she looked sideways at Thomas. “You have to remember I was young,” she said softly. “Young, and except for Elizabeth, alone with few to care for me in the world. Our grandparents were not cruel, exactly, but they had no capacity to love. We were more like servants than grandchildren; never mistreated, but never cared for. And one day, when I was sitting out on the steps out front, he stopped and spoke to me.”
“Mr Gilman did?” Thomas’ voice was brusque and sharp. Almost as though he knew what was coming.
Kitty nodded. “He was so kind, and entirely attentive to me. I could not believe someone . . . mature, and handsome, had deigned to notice me. Soon I found myself hoping to see him – longing for him to visit the neighbors so he could chance upon me. Which he always did,” she said with a bitter laugh, “every day for weeks.”
Silence fell between them, until Thomas asked nervously, “Until?”
“Until one day, Mr Gilman declared unbridled and passionate love for me.” It was amazing when you consider it, Kitty thought, how calmly she could speak of it now. “It was the best news I had heard in my entire life, and I could not wait to tell Elizabeth I was going to be married! Mrs Katherine Gilman.”
Her companion shifted in his seat and moved closer to her.
Kitty sighed. “When he told me no one else could know of our relationship – we would have to run away to marry, for my grandparents would never allow it, which I knew to be true, I should have known then. To keep a secret from Elizabeth? To lie? It was not in me, and yet I found myself making . . . well, promises a girl had no right to make, and no way to keep.”
“So you ran away with him?” Thomas’ words sounded disappointed, and she hated herself for hurting him – and her heart lurched at the idea that she cared enough about him to feel such an emotion.
She nodded. “I told Elizabeth I was going to town to purchase tea, and Mr Gilman met me at the town hall. I thought we would enter right away and be married, but then Ernest – Mr Gilman, I mean -- said we had to go to another town. He said,” and here she swallowed with the difficulty of recounting such lies, “he said as soon as we arrived at Nacogdoches, we could be married.”
Thomas had a rabbit bone in his hands, and he was pulling at it, tearing it apart. “And were you?” he said finally.
“I gave myself to him freely that night,” said Kitty slowly, “and I was so sure in my heart I was married to him, that I do not think then that a preacher could have told me otherwise. And yet every day there was a new delay, every week a new reason why it could not be this day.”
“And you believed him?” His tone was incredulous, and she saw the disbelief. “After all that time?”
Kitty smiled wanly. The words were pouring out of her now, words that had been forced to be hidden in her soul for too long, and somehow this man was helping her to flush it out of her very soul. “Do not forget how young I was. I truly believed myself to be attached to him – and him to me. Until . . .” Her fingers moved to the side of her neck, and she pulled her hair away to reveal a circular scar. “Until I burnt the cooking one evening. One stray thought and the chicken was burnt, and it was my fault. I deserved to be punished, he said. A burn for a burn.”
Thomas moved as though possessed, slowly and without taking his eyes away from her. His fingertip brushed across the scar and tangled briefly in her hair. “A cigar?” he said hoarsely.
She nodded. “It was naught but the beginning, of course. Almost a twelvemonth followed, and I managed to hide the scars as best I could the few times I was allowed out to buy supplies – and yet, fewer places would serve me, as it became clear Mr Gilman had told the town I was his mistress and not his wife. To be called Miss Morrison, instead of Mrs Gilman, hurt more than the beatings did.”
He was close to her now. She could feel his breathing, and yet she did not want to move away. She wanted him close. She had not felt this close, emotionally, to anyone in a long time.
His fingers brushed past her hair again, and she moved out of his reach, rushing to finish the tale. “In the end, I did not even have the strength to leave him. I was damaged goods; no man would have me, my grandparents would certainly have not permitted me to return, and I had no other friends. I awoke one morning to find he had abandoned me, and I was glad. But I was also destitute, with no way of making a living and no benefactor to take me in.”
“And so, Madam Nancy,” finished Thomas, his face grave.
She shrugged and brushed away a firefly a little too close for comfort. “At the time, I had such little soul alive in me it did not seem to matter where I was, or what I did, as long as I could eat twice a day. And Madam Nancy was good to me, in a way.”
There were more fireflies now. The fire must have been attracting them, but Kitty barely noticed them. She was watching Thomas, and hoping, hoping for – only the Lord knew what.
Thomas stared at her. To think this woman – any woman – had to endure such pain and disappointment at the hands of a man. If a man had done such to one of his sisters . . . to Mariana, or to Abigail . . . Thomas felt the nausea rising in the back of his throat, and he swallowed to force down the impulse to retch. It was more than he could bear; she had suffered such ill, and he had berated her for the life she had not chosen, but had been forced to!
“Kitty, I . . .” Unsure what to say, Thomas spoke purely from the heart. “I am sorry he treated you in that wretched way. You did not deserve such a foul man in your life, and I will do everything in my power I can to prevent you from suffering again.”
She smiled at his words; it was a sad one, but did not move away from him. “The disgust in your voice does not surprise me.”
“Tis disgust of him!” exploded Thomas, unable to contain his true feelings. “That a man could hurt a woman – a woman he purported to love! That he could lie, and take your innocence with absolutely no intention of caring for you, of loving you – I do not know how you can stand it!”
Kitty shrugged, but he could see through the nonchalance to the hurt inside. “Time, I suppose. Time heals all. I began my time at Madam Nancy’s praying for him to suffer just as much as he had made me hurt, but I grieve to think of that now.”
“Grieve?” he spluttered, and she laughed.
“Yes, grieve! My faith is not, perhaps, what it was, and although certainly not what it ought, I feel comfort in the fact that retribution has none of its own merits, and gives little to the hurt but further pain.” She glanced at him directly, and he saw she was smiling. “In truth, I think I was not fully healed until a certain young gentleman walked into my room.”
Thomas grinned drily. “Collapsed into your room, I would say.”
She laughed, throwing back her head and losing herself to the mirth. The shine of the moon on her neck stirred something deep within Thomas’ chest, and he realized he would do anything for this woman. A chance encounter had led him to the two biggest chances to better his life: to meet with his family, and to have a wife whom he truly loved.
“Kitty,” Thomas said. Her laugh petered out, and she looked at him lazily with a small smile. He shifted himself again, a few inches, but close enough to be able to reach out and touch her.
If he dared.
“Do you think the chances that continue to come our way could be more than mere coincidence?” His voice was low and sincere, and he could not take his eyes from her. “Do you think we can find happiness in the life that we have chosen?”
Kitty was staring at him as though he was mad. “Chosen? I . . . I do not know what – ”
“Yes you do, you must do!” Thomas reached out his hand and enclosed her own in his. “Kitty, you must by now be realizing what I myself could not do, until now.”
“What?” she said, fear in her voice. “What do you mean?”
Thomas swallowed. It was speak now or forever hold his peace. “Kitty, I am falling in love with you.”
There was a moment of silence. And then: “No, you are not.”
Her voice was sad and terse, but Thomas rejoiced she did not pull her hands away. “Yes, I am. How could I not?”
“Because I am – I am Miss Morrison, Madam Nancy’s favorite!” Kitty garbled, tears now appearing. “No man thinks of me as a person, no one, not even you! You said yourself, in the coach, I was to bring shame on you wherever we – ”
“Did I not apologize for that – did I not say I was wrong?” Thomas was hurt to have his old words flung back at him. “If Christ has made you clean, who am I to say otherwise? Kitty, you have completely bewitched me, and the more time I spend with you, the deeper I fall for you!”
“No, no you cannot – it cannot be!” Now she wrenched her hands from his, and she stood up, eyes flashing. “Thomas, you cannot be in love with me, it is not possible!”
But he rose also, and before he knew what he was doing, he was clasping Kitty in his arms just as tightly as her struggles were.
“I know you think I married you simply for respectability – and yes, I can admit that was a part of it.” His voice was low and deep, and he tried to control his emotion as he said, “But I felt then what I know now: that we could have a real and genuine affection for each other. This could be a marriage to last the ages!”
But she continued to struggle against him. “No, you could not have known, you did not know me then, and you do not know me now!”
“Kitty, I love you,” he said firmly. “And I want this marriage – this marriage that started out as convenience . . . I want it to be real.”
She stopped struggling then. The fight was taken out of her, and she stared at him in amazement. “Real?”
“Real,” repeated Thomas, and he lowered his mouth to hers.
It never reached. What did reach him, however, was a resounding and heartily painful slap ringing out in the night.
Thomas dropped his hands, and she stumbled backwards.
“You just want – you just want what every man wants,” she whispered, and now tears for the first time were trickling down her cheeks. “You do not want me. Not me in my entirety. You want the part of me you can use.”
“No,” croaked Thomas, cheek on fire and heart aflame. “No, Kitty, that is not what – I mean, obviously I would not say no to – but that is not why – ”
“I may be afraid of human connection,” she said, ignoring his words. “But you are afraid to be without it. You are so desperate to be loved, Thomas Bryant, that you will steal for attention, and you will lie to avoid blame, and you will marry,” and here she sniffed, “you will marry a woman you have just met in order to return to people you think will love you again.”
Her words were burning into him, and he could not stop listening to her, and he could not speak to stop her.
“You frighten me,” she said finally, “but not because of what you could do to me, out here, alone in the world, married to you. You frighten me because you have never made a good decision in your life; and I decided to marry you.”