She opened her eyes and found herself standing in the middle of a vast cotton field, the fluffy balls like white puffs of air brushing haphazardly around her knees. Looking down at her clothes, Tina saw she was wearing a worn gingham dress, and her hair was bound up in a matching scarf. This wasn't right, she thought. She knew she didn't belong there, and on glancing about at the dozens of black men - most stripped to their waists or in torn shirts - and women - wearing similar garb to her own - around her, she knew she was in trouble. Three men on horseback were approaching, and she heard a familiar voice call out, "All right. Remember what I told you and it'll all be fine. Understood?"
It was John's voice, and seconds later, his hands grasped her shaky arms. "Don't be scared, darlin'," he whispered hurriedly. "Just remember what I told you. Keep your eyes down; don't let him know you're educated. Act like you've been a plantation slave your whole life."
"John?" she asked in a soft, anxious voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see how handsome he looked in a riding habit she would have seen on Rhett Butler or Ashley Wilkes, only of a simpler cut.
"You're a slave, Tina," he said quickly, seriously. "Pretend like you know your place, or we'll be in trouble." The men on horseback were within range, and all he could add was, "I love you, sweetheart."
Tina did not realize it was Hando until the riders were right upon them. She wanted to study him closer, but recalling John's words, kept her head lowered, more from fear than contrition. Her body was shivering despite the heat, and she felt that at any moment she would double over. How in the world had she ended up in the Deep South before the American Civil War? Shutting her eyes, she thought about the man who was riding in the front. From the brief glimpse, she saw that Hando possessed the bearing and wardrobe of a typical plantation owner in those times. It was all she needed to tell her of his arrogance and belief in his own racial superiority. He remained mounted, and she heard him haughtily announce, "Biebe!" surprisingly in his own coarse Australian accent from the movie. No cultured Southern accent for him.
"Sir?"
"The slaves look in outstanding condition, Biebe. And everyone told me not to hire a Yankee; thought you'd be too sympathetic you know. I still think you're too light handed about using the whip, but if they're in order, I accept your methods - - for now. It's been a good two weeks."
"Thank you, Mister Hando. To what do we owe this visit, sir?"
Tina heard Hando conversing about how good the cotton crop appeared; that he was planning to purchase more human stock during an upcoming trip to Nashville. But now he dismounted. She felt his eyes burning into her when he added, "And I think it's time I brought another of these niggers up to the house. I don't have nearly enough inside servants as a man of my station should...Too many guests; not nearly enough to assist their needs. Humph...This one right here will do just fine, Biebe. Just fine."
Tina felt his breath on her, as he stepped within inches, using a finger to poke her arms and back, then patting her flanks as one would a horse. He lifted her chin, and she stared into blue-green eyes filled with anger, hate and lust. "She's too good-looking to be out here picking cotton. She'll make a lovely maid, whether I have female guests or not. Look at the hips on her too. She could breed a dozen little niggas and not think twice about it." He and his guests laughed, but she saw that John - behind Hando's back - was wincing. "Ain't as wide as Mammy yet, but give her a few years. She'll get nice and fat breeding the way she ought to." His right hand clenched her cheeks as he massaged her face in what he likely thought was a sensual move; groaning, he looked her up and down. In her heart, she knew he was undressing her with his eyes, and she felt more like she was being ravished. "High yellow. That's what they call niggers like this one, gentlemen. If you don't watch 'em, they'll try to pass themselves off as a decent white folk, that is, if you don't pay close enough attention. She's got enough nigger in her that you can tell what she really is." His voice lowered so that only Tina and Biebe heard him. "But I like my nigger women high yellow."
John stepped forward a little. "Sir, I'd really advise against removing another field hand at this time, what with the crops needing to be harvested. I'm short-handed as it is."
"A situation easily rectified, Biebe. You can head up to Lexington tomorrow and buy what you need. Forget Nashville. But this little nigger...Her tiny, little hands won't be missed. Yeah, she's awfully pretty, Biebe. When did I buy her?" John explained she had been purchased a few weeks before he became oversee. "Oh, so old Patton got her before he died. What's your name, honey?" he slurred at her, licking his lips, the bourbon obvious.
Tina dipped a quick curtsy and cleared her throat, her legs feeling as if they'd collapse from under her. Forcing her education away, she managed, "Tina, Massa Hando," as if she was a slave in 'Roots' or 'Gone With the Wind'.
"Pretty name too. Pretty name, pretty nigger. No Biebe, I don't think she'll be missed out here. Unless...." He looked squarely at John. "You're not humping the bitch yourself, are you?"
Biebe didn't flinch. "I don't...I don't hump Negro girls, sir."
"You ought to think about it. That's all they're good for anyway: humping and breeding; cooking, cleaning and helping tend your youngsters, like my Mammy did." He chuckled at his own so-called wit. "Well, bring our Tina up to the big house by morning, Biebe...."
She was trembling so hard she thought she would throw up. Tina could still smell Hando's over-perfumed body combined with the liquor on his foul breath. She had come into too close contact with that when he kissed her mouth. Stumbling unseen into the overseer's cabin, with John behind her, she finally exhaled. Panic-stricken, she emitted a small scream before collapsing into Biebe's embrace. All she could do was repeat his name, and she felt his arms tighten protectively about her, then felt his lips gently kissing hers before he spoke.
"It's all right, sweetheart. I'm here; I'm here. I told your parents I'd find you no matter what it took. And I swore I wouldn't rest until you were safe again."
"But I don't understand, John. How did I get here?"
The more he spoke, the more it became her reality. Her parents were escaped slaves, living in the North now, and major players in the Abolitionist faction like Frederick Douglas. Tina had been born free.... John Biebe was also in the movement, but as a silent bankroller for it and the Underground Railroad...He and Tina had been in love for years...They were going to be married in a few months...She had been kidnapped by slavers during some anti-slavery rallies in Ohio, brought into Kentucky and sold. It had taken John weeks to find her, but he'd finally learned of her whereabouts, and he sought out Hando's plantation in eastern Kentucky. He had even had old Patton meet an unfortunate accident so as to get himself hired as overseer, replacing a man as cruel and unloved as his master.
"I had hoped to keep you away from Hando's scrutiny until we could get out of here, but somebody talked. Probably one of my so-called assistants. Told Hando he had a lovely, new female slave," explained John, continuing to hold her. She felt very protected in his arms, as she did when they were in safer circumstances. "So we've got to get out of here tonight. If he takes you up to the big house, it's going to make it more difficult for you to get away." He paused, caressing her face, a slight fear in his eyes. "I won't be able to watch out for you, darlin'. You know the real reason why he wants you, don't you?" Tina nodded - - her voice was so weak, she doubted she could have spoken anyway. Oh, she knew what Hando wanted with her. She remembered 'Roots', and 'Queen', and 'Mandingo'.
"John," she finally whispered, laying her head against him. He tenderly rocked her and neither spoke for a few moments as they savored each other's presence. It had been nearly a month since they had held one another, shared their affections, sworn their love despite their races. The abolitionist felt his fiancÈ's heartbeat, tried to wipe away her continual tears, then found himself fumbling to remove the ugly scarf that hid her lovely reddish-blonde tresses. He wanted to caress every inch of her, to show her how much she meant to him. He softly told her that as he led her to the bed, the two sitting at the foot of it.
"You've already shown me, John Biebe," she replied, touching his handsome, bearded features.
"Have I? How?"
"You found me, didn't you?"
"I would've moved Heaven, Hell and Earth to find you and bring you home, darlin'. When I learned what happened, I got from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati as fast as I could. I couldn't believe those bastards dared...." He paused, not wanting to upset her further. "Sorry." He'd already blamed himself for not being at those rallies, but he'd had business in Pennsylvania; he was to meet Tina and her family later.
"I can't believe they dared either, but they did...All I want to do is pretend the last few weeks never happened. I just want to...forget." Her stomach was so knotted; her throat so dry, she was surprised she could even hold down the cup of broth John went to fetch. Trembling, numb, she took a sip, trying to swallow, but all she could sense was a chill that would not go away.
"None of them...hurt you, did they, darlin'?" he finally asked.
Tina shook her head. "I...I...I've been lucky. I...I know I have. I'm so cold, John."
He held her closer, wrapping a quilt about her. "I can tell, sweetheart. I know...Oh darlin'," he sighed. "I wish I had been there for you. This might never have taken place. But that's water under the bridge now. Now...I was hoping it wouldn't come to this...having to leave this quick. If Hando could have headed off to Nashville tomorrow, we might have had a better chance without him here, but...we'll have to do it tonight. We don't have a choice."
"I'll do anything to get away from here. Anything." She had seen the expression on Hando's face. Once she was at the 'big house' not only would her virginity be lost; she would really be a slave under her master's complete control. She would rather pick cotton forever than become nothing but a whore to Hando, and likely his so-called gentleman friends.
"We're getting out of here, as soon as it's dark and everyone's retired. Now that it's quitting time, you shouldn't be missed at all - - not until chores start in the morning. You can stay here. I need to get our gear together before we head...."
"John?"
"Yeah sweetheart?" He gently stroked her hair, When she didn't speak immediately, he said, "I know. I'm worried to."
"I...I love you." For the first time in a long while, she smiled.
He grinned back. "I love you too, Tina. And as soon as we're North again, when we're home and safe, we'll get Reverend Hobbs, and I'm marrying you immediately, sweetheart. We won't wait. Forget the big formal wedding we've been planning. Would that be all right with you?" He heard her giggle, saw her nod. "Great. I mean, your wedding dress is finished. We can have the ceremony at your parents' home, invite just our closest friends and relations. It doesn't have to be the spectacle we originally wanted." He tenderly cupped her face. "All I want to do is hurry up and make you Mrs. John Biebe, like I've always promised I would...You...You remember, don't you? When I said I'd marry you?"
Funny, she could recall both this life and her twenty-first century life, as could John, although little by little, this was becoming more real to her. Her other life, the CrowesNest, was slowly becoming a distant memory. Tina's smile broadened. She never thought she would smile again. Placing her head on his shoulder, she said, "When we were children? Of course I do." Neither had been older than ten when they met at that anti-slavery conference in Boston. Her parents had spoken that evening, describing their experiences in slavery, and John - there with his abolitionist family from Maine - had received his first real taste of the movement. "It was a few weeks after we met, wasn't it? You said...."
"I said, 'Mistress Stewart, I realize we have not known each other long, but would you accept my proposal of marriage to you?'"
"I said, 'You realize Master Biebe, I am Negro, don't you?'"
"I told you I didn't care."
"You gave me a rose from your mother's garden. And I said, 'But Master Biebe...neither of us are of age yet...but...'" She paused, looking into the face of the person she had watched grow from a precocious child, into the handsome young man she loved. "'But...if you would wait....'"
"'If you would wait,'" John repeated, "'until we're older...I'd happily become your wife.' We've waited too long, Tina. Too long." He needed to control himself. Soon, very soon, she would be his bride, and he would make erotic, beautiful love to her for the rest of their lives. "I should have married you years ago."
"It's all right, John. We both agreed to wait, what with the movement and all...."
His voice was firm. "I *should* have married you a soon as we came of age. We never should have waited. I'll always regret that."
"Sh. It's all right, my love. We both agreed."
John smiled. "Well I promise you...when we *are* married...and don't...uh...don't get all faint on me..." She laughed. "But I intend to make love to you until we're grandparents, Hell, great-grandparents." Tina laughed harder, embracing him. "I may never let you out of our bridal bed...."
Their lips met in a lingering kiss....
She felt John's hand in hers, his grip tightening as the couple stared upwards at the half-dozen men on horseback. Another four armed with shotguns surrounded them. He was quickly disarmed, but he and Tina were allowed to remain together. Hando leaned forward to speak, making a 'Tsk, tsk' sound as he shook his head.
"What did I tell you gentlemen, hmm? He don't hump Negro girls." He spat off to the side. "And here he is with the yellow bitch trying to get over to Ohio. You've forgotten something, Biebe. She belongs to me, not you. Just what the hell are you doing with my nigger...Yankee?" John did not answer as he pulled Tina closer. "Oh, I get it now. I told you how these nigger gals cast those voodoo spells to get men under their control. Course it's easy with a Yankee. They'll hump anything." Hando gave a toothy grin. "But you ain't got no bill of sale on her. You stole my legal property, Biebe, and I want compensation."
"She doesn't belong to you, Hando!" John challenged.
"She sure the hell does! She's a nigger, which makes her my property. Oh, I know, she was freeborn in the North. Well, this isn't the North. We know who she is now. And I know who *you* are Mr. John Biebe...Yankee nigger lover! It's people like you out breaking the law that makes it hard for decent folk. Abolitionists! You're a bunch of thieving liars with your Underground Railroad; stirring up these Negroes when there ain't any need. And *you* betraying your race this way...and for what?...But...can't say I blame you though. She's worth it. That's why I'm not letting her go. Bring her here."
Two of the armed men took Tina by her arms to pull her away. Struggling, she managed to embrace John, whispering his name as he did hers, and they kissed. It was too brief. Weeping, she was forced away and over to the group of horses, while Biebe's hands were bound behind him.
"Wasn't that sweet?" Hando chuckled, spitting again. "Well I hope you got a good taste of her Biebe, cause that's the last kiss you two will ever have. My Tina's coming home with me - - where she belongs."
John licked his dry lips, eyes never leaving his beloved. He was still determined to get her out of this. "I don't give a damn what you do with me. But Cincinnati's right over there." He nodded toward the land on the river's opposite side. "I'll pay you three times what you paid for her if you'll set her free. Once she's North, there are people...."
"Who would give me even more. Oh, I don't doubt that, Biebe. But I don't care about the money, as tempting as it is. I want to see what makes this pretty little nigger so special to a white man. I oughta do her right now. Let *that* be your last memory of her." Seeing the dread in John's eyes, they all laughed, while Hando's fingers rubbed at Tina's back. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna do that. We can wait, can't we, Tina honey? Hoist her up here, boys." They did, and Hando wrapped an arm about her, nuzzling her behind the ear. "Now that ain't no way to be. Cringing like that. You'd better get used to me and quick. I already know you like white men."
"Master," came the tiny voice.
"Did you hear that? 'Master'. Not Massa, but Master. She's one of those educated niggers. What you want to ask your master?"
She gulped, forcing out the next words, said only because of her love for John. "I'll...I'll do anything for you, Master, if you would...if you would not harm him."
"Anything, huh? Does that include..." He whispered in her ear, and everyone watched her blanch, shutting her eyes as the tears crept along her cheeks. The other men sniggered, while John shook his head, whispering, "No Tina. Don't darlin'." When Hando was done with his suggestions, Tina looked so small and pale, Biebe thought she would be sick. "Well gentlemen," Hando announced, "I think she *would* do anything for her Yankee beau. Not that it'll make a difference in the long run though. He *has* to be taught a lesson, but I promise you, Tina, because I like you so much...I'll make it quick." He laughed, then motioned to the men holding John. "String him up!"
"No!" Tina screamed, trying to dismount, but Hando held on tighter. "Please don't, Master! Please!"
One of Hando's employees also looked skeptical. "Here, sir? But...But shouldn't we take him back to stand trial in...."
"He's already stood trial!" Hando snapped. "I'm his judge, jury and executioner! I want to string him up here, right in view of those Yankees in Ohio."
"No!" Tina struck out at Hando, but he slapped her across the face so hard, she nearly fell off the horse.
John broke free momentarily, charging at them as he screamed, "Leave her alone you lousy bastard! Leave her alone!" Several of the men dragged him back as one hit him in the head, stunning him for a second. John was seeing stars, but he shook it off as they pulled him towards one of the sturdiest trees on the bank.
Hando moved his horse slightly to one side. "I want to be sure she gets a good view, ain't that right, pretty Tina. You don't want to miss this, do you?" he grinned. "And when he's dead, I want his carcass left here to rot. Don't take it down, hear me! I'm going to teach these Yankee scum a lesson. Let 'em see what happens to one of their own when they come meddling in my state."
Sniffing back her tears, Tina watched as one man made a noose, while a second led a riderless horse to the tree trunk. In too short time, Biebe was maneuvered onto the horse's back. During all of this, neither he nor Tina broke eye contact as they gazed at one another. John kept mouthing, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry," and "I love you, Tina" while she could only nod, her lips repeating "I love you, John. I'll always love you."
John swallowed hard, his expression solemn. They had been so close. Just a mile across the river, and they would have been successful. It had taken a week of hiding, but with the help of his connections, they had come this far. Their contact was to meet them at this final spot. Instead, his corpse was practically dropped at their feet when Hando and his company arrived to surprise the couple.
Biebe sighed, tears welling in his eyes as he continued to watch his beloved. God forgive him for not getting her home. So close. They had come so close.... He felt the rough texture of the rope slip about his neck, rubbing his flesh. An image flashed through his mind: the two of them back at his home in Maine; there were their children; then their grandchildren; he and Tina as an elderly couple after decades together. She was still so lovely, and they had been so contented....
Tina wanted to close her eyes, but could not, realizing every second might be his last. Images passed through her mind as well. Summers on the coast with her family and the Biebes; John's fiery speechwriting and newspaper commentaries, and his secret, substantial donations, since he remained anonymous. She had loved him even when they were children, as he had her. But now she would never see their beloved Maine again. Feel that gold ring on her finger. Marvel at her babies - and John's - growing inside her womb...Growing old with John....When he died so would she, and Hando could have the remaining shell. She would become his slave and whore, and he would never realize that her soul had died with John.
"I love you, Tina!" John shouted, just as Hando cackled and yelled, "What are you waiting for?! Drop him!"
The horse's rump was smacked, and Tina stared, unmoving, as it galloped forward. The noose tightened, and she watched in horrified fascination as John's head snapped backwards, and he slid off the animal. His body jerked like a rag doll in the wind, his tongue thrusting out between his teeth. The world became surreal as her mind went blank. She was now a meek, illiterate slave girl at her master's command. Then she remembered hearing herself scream as Hando snatched her head around to give her a vulgar, ugly kiss....
John jerked awake on hearing Tina emit a strangled shriek. He had fallen asleep with her in his arms after they had made love again, and he vaguely recalled snoring softly as she cuddled nearer to him. Only half-sleep, beginning to doze even deeper, John was startled when Tina jumped. It took him a moment to comprehend what was happening as he rubbed his astonished eyes.
"Tina?" he said softly, suddenly realizing she had moved several feet away. On seeing the panic on her face he awoke completely. "Tina?!" She was trembling, looking about, her eyes unseeing as the tears flowed even harder, her chest rising and falling erratically. Thankful he at least had his jeans back on, John moved towards her, grabbing at her flailing arms. "Tina! Tina - it's John! Can you hear me, darlin'? It's John!"
"No!" came the panicked voice as she crawled backwards. "No Massa Hando, no!"
"Massa Hando?" the Alaskan said softly to himself, perplexed, but he returned to the matter at hand. "Tina, it's me - John! It's John, darlin', you know me! Come on sweetheart, wake up! It's John!" He held her protectively, but felt his stomach sink when he heard her tearfully mumble:
"No, no, John's dead. John's dead."
"Aw fuck...No darlin', I'm fine. Look at me, Tina. See...I'm okay." She slowly did as she was told, and stared into the sheriff's face. Swallowing hard, blinking, she caressed his face, taking in each feature.
"Oh John!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms about him, her crying near uncontrollable as she collapsed against him. All Biebe could do was embrace her trembling form, recalling those pathetic words she had uttered. 'Massa Hando' and 'John's dead'? Oh god, he thought...What the hell have I done to her?
The intense ache in her lungs slowly lulled her mind out of the darkness she was in. Each breath seemed strangely welcomed but painful as her lungs wheezed beneath her shivering skin. Her jeans felt damp and cool against her thighs and her brain fuzzily wandered around the puzzle as to why she was feeling wet to begin with. Flashes of memory flickered through her thoughts; a scream and male voices yelling, a swinging sword and extreme pain, dark confusion, a sunny photograph, a hand reaching towards the door and the sound of shattering glass followed by blissful darkness. Awakening to pain and dampness, a surreal uncomfortableness that pervaded through her whole body, lungs gasping for air and a fog that clung to the vessels of her brain, Michelle willingly rested against the warm chest for some time, enveloped by comforting arms as she focused her breathing. She found herself matching each breath to the heart that beat against her cheek, and letting herself float in the soft baritone mummers that came from within.
Colin rocked mindlessly back and forth, unable to control the flow of his tears, humming softly because his tongue refused to form words as he cradled her form in his arms. he could feel her ribs expanding and contracting with each breath and he reveled in the sensation. After awhile, his sobs began to abate and he began to speak to her again, not knowing if she could hear him or not.
"'Chelle. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." A gentle hand brushed her hair. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I would never... God, when I saw you fall..." His voice cracked with emotion and he pressed her against him, "I would never dream of hurting you..." His words entered her hazy consciousness, filtering their way through the fog as she methodically began to process what he was saying while at the same time sensing the pressure that he was applying as he squeezed her body against his. "You mean so much too me... I'm... 'Chelle... I'm so bloody sorry." He pulled her even closer and she gasped as her ribs groaned in pain under his compact embrace.
"Colin..." His name came out of her mouth like a lost breath and her eyes opened wide as a spasm racked through her body. He continued rocking back and forth, intent on holding her tightly against him, trying desperately to comfort both himself and her with his arms clasp around her.
"Michelle, please forgive me, I'm such a fool."
"Colin..." Her voice stronger this time, it came out as a hoarse exclamation. "I can't brea... You're hurting me!"
He looked down at her, a stunned expression on his pale, tear-stained face. Her words had only startled him, their meaning obviously lost as he gasped in relief and hugged her to him again. "Thank God, love... You're alright. I've been so bloody worried. I couldn't stay downstairs any longer... I had to see you, I love ya so much..."
She winced, clenching her teeth as her body was continually reminding her of all that she had been through that night and she attempted to push herself away. "Col! My ribs! Please stop... You're hurting me!! Let go!"
"Shit..." His embraced slackened and he leaned back, looking down at her. "'Chelle, I'm sorry... I just... just..." His eyes lifted and he fell silent when he saw the pain in her eyes. He dropped his arms to the side and hung his head.
"You just what, Colin?" A cough to relieve her sore lungs came out sounding like a cruel chuckle. She slid slowly out of his lap and onto the hardwood floor, stretching her back and legs as she watched him. He looks so tired and worn, his face wet and his eyes red with tears, she wanted to hold him and hit him at the same time. She wasn't ready for this, she realized. Her mind was a fog, processing thoughts and movements slowly, certainly not good in a situation like this where she was being bombarded with a series of emotions that demanded quick thinking. Colin sat silent in front of her, his legs crossed and his shoulders slumped. With his head down and his eyes averted, he looked as guilty as he should have felt, but Michelle's heart reluctantly reached out to him. Knowing the anguish he must have gone through while she had been resting up here in bed, knowing from the look of him that he had been agonizing over what had happened.
Her hand touched the puddle of water around her and she was quickly reminded of what she had just been through. Not only the initial fall over the railing, and the pain that was now resulting from it, but also the nightmare that still caused her to shiver and the horror she felt each time she thought of Colin and Bud fighting over her. Emotions and thoughts welled up within her and Michelle suddenly felt overwhelmed. She realized that she loved this person in front of her so dearly and yet he had questioned her love. Bud's actions towards her had thrown Colin over the edge and he hadn't trusted her at all.
"Just what, Colin?" Michelle repeated as she willed herself to her knees and leaned against the wall as her body adjusted to her new position. Colin lifted his head and watched her. She raised an eyebrow, showing that she was truly awaiting a response.
"Just... I just wanted to hold you... I was so afraid...I've never been so scared in my life, Chelle." Colin shook his head and he wiped angrily at the tears that started to flow down his cheeks once again.
"Scared of what?" Michelle looked at him, her mind beginning to focus quite clearly on the situation at hand. "Scared that Bud White was going take me back??" She suddenly felt angry. Not angry for the pain that she was experiencing, but angry that he didn't know her well enough, that somewhere along the way she had lost his trust.
Colin sat before her, open-mouthed. He shook his head slowly.
"No??" She sounded unconvinced, "Then what? Scared that my dying from the fall, and you being left alone! Stop it, you would have had me replaced within the month." She forced herself onto her feet. She felt like she didn't know what she was saying anymore, her mind was whirling, her heart beating within her chest and her blood racing. "Just leave me alone Colin... I don't want to see you right now." Colin rose with her, instinctively reaching out a hand to help her to stand. "Don't touch me.... I want you to leave."
"'Chelle... please... you know I wouldn't choose anyone else but you... I love you."
"Love me?" She snorted angrily and Colin looked at her in surprise as he registered the question in her voice. He stood up carefully, watching her.
"Michelle... what are you doing? What do you mean?"
"You might love me, Colin... but you don't trust me!" She spoke plainly, trying desperately to control the tears that were threatening to flow. "I love you!... You! You dumb jackass and yet you think that a drunk Bud White is going to take me away from you!? How could you say you truly love me when you don't trust me at all!?" She slumped back against the bedside table, suddenly exhausted. She ignored the feeling of shattered glass and water beneath her stocking feet. She realized all that she had said, shocked that she had the words had actually made it out of her mouth. Her heart was in her throat, and she regreted instantly what she had done.
Colin stood stunned, his heart thundering in his chest as he listened to her. His gaze was glued to the floor and he slowly noticed the tiny shards of glass surrounding her and how the puddle of water was turning a shade of pink around her feet. He stepped forward instinctively and was met with a swift slap in the face.
"Get out... Get out..." She bit her lower lip, fighting back the tears. Her right hand stung, but it mingled with the rest of the pain in her body. She stared at the red hand print that was forming on his left cheek. She could plainly see the hurt in his dark blue eyes as he stared stunned back at her. He lowered his gaze slowly and turned towards the door.
Watching Colin turn towards the door, Michelle felt her heart move to her throat, blocking any attempts she might have made to call out to him. He reached slowly for the door handle, each movement noticeably labored, his shoulders slumped forward, his eyes fixed to the floor. She followed his every motion, watching as he hovered at the door, unsure, wanting to stay but knowing he had been asked, told, to leave.
His eyes caught something in the corner and Colin kneeled, his hand coming back out of the shadows with the photograph. It seemed like hours ago that Michelle had found it sitting on the bedside table. Colin gazed at the picture, a soft smile crossing his face, only to disappear seconds later to be replaced by a quivering lip.
"Do you remember this day, 'Chelle?" Colin's question surprised her. She took a deep breath, finding her voice.
"You know I do." She glanced down at her hands, realizing that she was digging her nails into the palms of her hand. She flexed her fingers and sighed heavily, repeating softly, "You know I do."
"it was the perfect day, wasn't it?" Colin looked up at her and she saw the dim light play off his tear-filled eyes. "The sunshine, the beach, walking barefoot in the sand, no one around for miles... just... just you and me." He gulped, his chest heaving.
Michelle sat silently on the edge of the bed, trying desperately to hold her emotions in check. She knew that tears, sobs even, were not far in coming. She remembered that day well, every detail as a matter of fact, even the feel of ocean breeze on her skin, the feeling when Colin's hand first held hers. She closed her eyes, blinking back the tears.
"It could still be like that, couldn't it?" Colin released the door handle, his voice soft as his eyes pleaded with her. He saw that she was struggling to contain her emotions and he looked away. "No, I suppose... I suppose not. Not now... not after last night." He opened the door, letting the light from the hallway filter into the room. "I wish..." He shook his head, willing himself to continue. "I wish I could take it all back... last night." Head lowered, Colin stepped out into the hall. "I love you, Michelle," he whispered as he closed the door behind him. He spoke loud enough for Michelle to hear and as soon as the door clicked shut, she collapsed on to the pillow in a waterfall of tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
Colin faced the door, his forehead resting against the wooden panel as he stared down at the photo in his hand. He ran a gentle finger over Michelle's face, smiling softly as he took in the soft features of her face, the sparkle in her blue eyes and the brightness of her smile. His heart grew heavier as he realized that he may have lost of all of that forever. No more of her soothing voice, her contagious laughter, no more of her loving touch. Colin gasped, the sound comeing out of his mouth like a quiet cry of pain coming from his very soul. He ached to go back inside the room, to hold her in his arms, sooth her tears, sooth his pounding heart. He folded the photograph and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. They needed each other... but she needed to be alone, and he needed to be alone. Colin ran an angry hand through his rumpled hair. He needed some fresh air and a good long walk on the beach. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was early yet, only 6am. The Tavern staff would be arriving soon to start a new day of work and he wasn't in the mood to face anyone now. He climbed down the stairs to the front door, each step tugging at him as he felt the physical distance growing between him and Michelle. Yes, a long walk on the beach and a good chance to clear his head, that's what he needed. His feet moved like lead weights and Colin knew that he was only lying to himself. What he had done was unforgiveable and she had been completely right... he hadn't trusted her at all. He was a fool. A complete and utter fool.
