Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) (46 page)

That’s what I’m afraid of.

This case is mine, because the thought of
you with Whitfield just about kills me. I know it’s been a long time, and I
have no right to your affections, but no one would protect you like I would. If
you’re involved, I’ll find a way to get you out of this mess. If you’re not, I’ll
protect you with my life.

I know I hurt you when I left. I only
hope that time has eased your pain and that you’ll find it in your heart to
forgive me.

I miss you.

Yours,

Luke.

Over the course
of that afternoon, Jessie read many of his letters, where he told her about
what had happened to him over the years. He told her about how he got involved
with Mordecai and his team. He wrote to her each time he’d gotten wounded and
told her what happened. He told her how he’d lost most of his leg, and why he’d
elected to have the doctors take it rather than giving himself time to
recuperate.

He told her in
so many ways how much he cared about her and always had.

Jessie wept.

Suddenly, she
thought of the neatly piled letters she’d seen on the table by the door. The
post he’d received during his absence.

Maybe there’d
been letters in there, too.

She raced down
the stairs and rummaged through the bundle. And there it was: a letter
addressed to her, dated the day before they’d left to rescue Jessie’s father.
The day before he’d proposed and given her the ring she still wore and always
would.

Her heart
stopped for a moment, and she sank to the floor with his letter in her hand.

Luke.

She tore it
open and began to read.

Dearest Jessie,

It’s late and I’m watching you sleep. I’ve
never seen anything quite so beautiful as you lying in my bed. Being your man
is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.

I wish you weren’t going with us. I want
to think of you here, safe. I want to think of you like this. Trust me, I would
go through both heaven and hell to get back here to you.

But you’re as stubborn as you ever were,
and I know I can’t force you to stay behind. I won’t do that to you, even
though it goes against my very nature to allow it.

Like all the other letters, if you’re
reading this, it’s because I’m no longer with you. If I believed in some
benevolent higher power, I’d say that no God of mine would ever be so unfair as
to take me away from you now. I don’t know what I believe anymore, but
experience tells me life isn’t fair.

These last few days with you have been
paradise. I’ve lived lifetimes in the time we’ve had, but even if we have our
forever, it won’t be enough.

I love you.

Forever yours,

Luke

Jessie held the
letter in her hand and stared at it for a long time. She read and re-read the
words, and traced his handwriting with her fingers, feeling the spark of his
life and his love for her beneath his words.

She wilted. The
icy numbness she’d let take over so she could function melted, and grief
weighed heavy in her chest.

Tomorrow she’d
get herself together and find a purpose for her life, since her ancestors had
refused to take her with them

Tonight, she’d
mourn.

Right now, she’d
sing.

She sang for
the girl she’d been. For a bright future that had lasted only a matter a days.
For a man she’d loved her whole life and would never see again.

Only this time,
she didn’t ask to join him, as she had when she danced.

Instead, she
sang of the life that could have been, and lived a lifetime in the space of a
few notes.

It was not a
song of mourning, but one of celebration. A song of life, where her grandfather
had only sung of death.

Little Singer
, the voices whispered.

She’d heard
them for most of her life, but ignored them. Now, when they spoke, they brought
her comfort. They reminded her of home. Of her mother and Gideon. They reminded
her of Luke.

She listened to
them, and welcomed them. And she laughed.

Magic caused
the air to pulse, quickening like a heart beating for the first time. It felt
so different from the songs of her mother and her grandfather. This magic was
hers.

She understood
now that the song of death had never been for her. Hers was a different song
entirely.

She would live,
and it would be all right. She didn’t want to die anymore.

I sing of life, and I want him back.

Her request was
met with silence.

For two days,
Jessie sent everyone who came for her away.

Her father begged
her to come home with him, but she refused. Elizabeth came by, insisting that
she come by for dinner. Whitfield had spoken to her through the door, asking
when she planned to leave. Jameson had even left his house, on the pretext that
he wanted her to build her revolving shotguns for his team.

Then, just a
few hours ago, Parker had come by and threatened to break down the door.

Jessie had
dared him to try.

She’d leave
when she was good and ready. When she was done, she’d sell this place, get a
place of her own, and start over. But only when she was ready. They wouldn’t
take her from here until she was ready to leave.

Something
scratched at the door, the sound of someone trying to pick the lock. She
thought maybe it was Parker or Whitfield, coming to collect her and take her
back.

As Luke would
say,
Like hell
.

If she needed
to be alone, she should be allowed. They didn’t need to watch over her like she
was some helpless child. She had no intentions of dying any time soon. It wasn’t
as though she hadn’t shouted that at them several times already.

She flung open
the door.

Startled eyes
met her face.

Jessie screamed
once before her vision went wobbly and everything went dark.

*
* * *

Jessie woke on
the sofa.

Her heart
stumbled, her pulse racing, and she flinched.

Luke.

She closed her
eyes. She must be dreaming.

When she opened
them again, he was still there, kneeling beside her.

Jessie shot up
to sitting, and her vision went soft around the edges, her mind fuzzy.

“Jess,” the
vision said with a worried smile. Its touch felt so familiar, so alive, and her
blood rushed in her veins.

“Not real,” she
murmured.

He laughed. “I
sure feel real. I’ll just get you some water.”

She reached for
him with frantic hands. “Don’t you
dare
leave
me!”

“I’ll be right
back.”

“No!” Real or
imagined, Luke wasn’t going anywhere without her. She clutched at his shirt,
and felt the warmth of his body.

Not an
apparition, like her ancestors.

A
hallucination, then. She’d take it.

Her vision went
hazy again.

“Whoa, Jess.”
He pushed her head between her knees. “Just breathe, sweet. Breathe.”

His hand was on
the back of her neck, his touch warm and gentle and it felt so… so real. She’d
wanted this. She’d begged her ancestors for it. And here was the visitation she’d
asked for.

Only she’d
expected some specter, not the feel of warm flesh against hers. She hadn’t
expected it to feel so real. She had expected tears and kisses, not a hand
pressing her head between her knees.

Jessie turned
her head and his concerned eyes met hers. She sat up, and for a moment, she saw
stars.

“It’s all
right, Jessie.”

“You’re here.”
She gasped.

“Yeah.” He
inhaled slowly again, and she followed suit.

He did it again
and she imitated him.

She reached out
and touched his face, felt the stubble of his unshaven jaw beneath her hands.
She trembled as she traced his lips and felt his warm breath against her
fingers.

Dead men didn’t
breathe or kiss a girl’s fingers.

“You’re alive,”
she whispered.

Amusement lit
his pale eyes. “Yep.” He moved back a little. “You’re not going to slap me and
slam a door in my face again, are you?”

Laughter burst
from her, uncontrolled and verging on hysterical. Flinging herself at him, she
wrapped him in her arms and held him tight.

“You’re here. I
can’t believe you’re here.”

He pulled back
and kissed her cheeks. “I’m here. But how did you get here so fast?”

“Fast? Luke, I’ve
been in Chicago two weeks. You’ve been gone for six.”

He closed his
eyes for a moment and held her tight. “I’m so sorry, Jessie. It only felt like
a few days to me.” Luke traced the tearstains on her cheeks with his thumbs. “Oh,
love, you suffered.”

“I can’t… I can’t…
How are you even here?” She shook her head and put her fingers to his lips. “Doesn’t
matter. I don’t care.”

He smiled and
settled her into his lap, and she felt the warmth of his body against her.
Every moment of pain was worth it, if this was the reward. Every single one.

Luke rubbed her
back gently. “I still can’t really make sense of it. I don’t really
know
what happened. I woke up in Denver
two days ago. Your cousin Cheveyo was there. He warned me that time passes
differently on the other side, but I didn’t quite know what that meant. Then he
told me to go, and I was drawn… here.” He grinned, but Jessie saw wariness in
his eyes.

The spell she’d
woven around Luke the night he’d died hadn’t worked, and she hadn’t saved him.
He’d asked her to let him go, and that’s what she had done.

She’d asked for
him back, but she’d never thought her ancestors would answer.

Luke kissed her
temple. “I’ve never believed in this kind of thing, Jess. All I know is I woke
up in Denver, and I wasn’t hurt. For the first time since my accident, my leg
didn’t ache. I meant to buy a ticket to Salt Lake, but the next thing I knew, I
was on an airship to Springfield. Then something told me to come here, and so
here I am.”

Jessie wrapped
Luke in her arms, buried her face in his shoulder, and cried.

Her ancestors
had finally taken it upon themselves to smile upon her. Though she’d begun
dancing for Luke, she had danced for them as well.

She never would
have done it if it hadn’t been for Luke. She never would have known she needed
to.

Luke had,
indeed, been the bridge between her grandfather and his final peace. He’d been
the bridge between Jessie and her grandfather.

He had
fulfilled his duty, and Jessie had fulfilled hers.

He kissed her
cheeks, her hair, her eyelids. He pressed his lips against her mouth, and she
kissed him back with everything she had. He slowly removed the pins from her
shorn hair, releasing it, and it tumbled about her shoulders.

“I missed you,”
he whispered.

“I missed you,
too.”

He cupped
Jessie’s head and laid her back on the sofa. “I’ll never hurt you like that
again,” he said, bracing himself on his elbows above her.

She smiled. “I
think you should make it up to me.”

He slowly began
lifting her skirt and petticoat, and Jessie shivered. “What do you suggest I
do?”

“I don’t know,
but I bet you’ll think of something. I guess you could start by taking off my
drawers.”

He did it with
his teeth.

The
End

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