Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-01-23 03:02 am
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-01-23 03:02 am
Entry tags:
IV. Ashes in the water, Ashes in the sea...
[We are crooked souls trying to stay up straight...]
She had to find him. She had to find him before they did.
She wanted to call out his name, but she kept herself from doing so. If she made too much of a ruckus, she would lead them right to him. So, heart in her throat and lungs aching, she said not a word as she ran.
She made her way down to the lakefront, tripping once in the quaggy mud. She landed on her hands and knees, but she wouldn’t stay down. Picking herself up, skirts heavy with mud, she could see Sam hitching Mary Lou to the onion cart.
She ran the rest of the way to him, heart brimming with relief.
“Thank God, I found you,” she sighed, hugging him. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
“What—”
“Someone must have seen us kissing yesterday,” she said. “They set fire to the schoolhouse. The sheriff said he’s going to hang you!”
Sam looked thunderstruck, his soft features drawn, his mouth ajar. He hesitated for a moment, studying the firm, serious look in Katherine’s eyes.
And then he looked sad. He looked older.
“C’mon, Mary Lou.”
“We have to leave Mary Lou behind,” said Katherine, shaking her head. They would never make it out of town in time if they took her with them.
Sam stared at her a moment. She knew what the old donkey meant to him, and it broke her heart to do this. But they didn’t have a choice.
There were tears in his eyes. “Okay.”
He took her by the hand and turned from his onion cart, and his longtime companion, and quickly led Katherine to the water. His boat was tied to a tree by a long rope. He untied it, and they waded through the water and climbed aboard.
We’re going to make it.
She allowed herself to breathe at last, once they were settled in the rowboat and his powerful arms were rowing them away from the shore. She smiled at him, leaning forward to place her trembling hand on his knee. He smiled back.
There was a good deal of sadness on both of their faces, as they left the things they cherished, and a town that had become a home, behind. Her schoolhouse was burning—God only knows what they might be doing to her home.
But it would be all right.
We’re going to make it.
She would go anywhere, as long as she could stay with him. As long as she knew he was going to be safe.
But Sam's arms were no match for Trout Walker’s motorized boat. Evening was setting in, and they were little more than halfway across the lake, when Miss Katherine heard the loud roar of the engine. Then she saw the ugly black smoke...
She watched the small steamboat in the fading gloom of a stormy day, squinting up at the cloud cover overhead. She prayed for something to happen. She prayed for storm, or wind, or a broken cog – anything to buy Sam and her enough time to get to the other shore. There were four men onboard, and she didn’t need daylight to make out the shape of shadow-cloaked rifles in their hands.
She looked over her shoulder as Sam rowed on, and she could see it on his face. It wasn’t fear, or worry, or anxiety. He looked calm, and sad.
Resigned.
He knew what was coming.
Katherine had to swallow the lump in her throat at the sight, and force the smile to her lips. She wasn’t going to give up on him—on them—she would fight, tooth and nail, until they were either safe on the other shore or hanging next to each other in the square.
Her hand looked so small and milky white, when placed on top of his.
It would take a full day for Sam to row his boat across the lake, and another to return.
It took the Walker’s new steamboat forty-five minutes to cover the distance between them.
“Hands in the air now!” Trout shouted, rifle cocked and aimed even though he was still a few meters off.
“Trout, stop it!” Katherine screamed back, as Sam obediently lifted his hands from the oars.
“Katherine!” There was a warning tone to his sloppy voice, his boat skimming the water towards the little rowboat. “Now, you just hold tight, and come with us. Ain’t no reason for you to get caught in the middle of this.”
She shifted in the boat until she was in front of Sam, sheltering him as much as she could with her petite frame.
“I’m already in the middle of this,” she called. “And I’m not comin’ with you!”
“Damn it, girl!”
“Trout, please!”
“Don’t call me that!” he bellowed, his eye still trained on Sam. Sam didn’t move, or flinch, and wisely he didn’t speak. He sat staunch, hands in the air, ready for whatever awaited him.
“Think of what you’re doing!” Katherine begged. “Please!”
“Thought on it plenty.”
“No, you can’t! He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“That’s for the law and our Good Lord to decide!”
“You’re making a mistake! Trout!”
“I said not to call me that, woman!”
“Please,” she begged again, her voice gentler, and more afraid. Just what Trout wanted to hear. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want, just... don’t hurt him.”
Trout Walker’s finger relaxed on the trigger, just slightly.
Sam tipped his face toward Katherine, brow furrowed in concern.
"...Kate?"
There was a ferocity in Trout’s eyes as he watched, and she knew.
They weren’t going to make it out of this alive.
“No!” she cried. “Trout!”
She jumped, gasping as she felt the patter of what could have been raindrops against her skin. They stuck to her arm, to her neck, to her face, and in her mouth she could taste iron.
The scream could be heard for miles, echoing through every corner of the sleepy little town with the pillar of black smoke rising from its former schoolhouse.
.
She had to find him. She had to find him before they did.
She wanted to call out his name, but she kept herself from doing so. If she made too much of a ruckus, she would lead them right to him. So, heart in her throat and lungs aching, she said not a word as she ran.
She made her way down to the lakefront, tripping once in the quaggy mud. She landed on her hands and knees, but she wouldn’t stay down. Picking herself up, skirts heavy with mud, she could see Sam hitching Mary Lou to the onion cart.
She ran the rest of the way to him, heart brimming with relief.
“Thank God, I found you,” she sighed, hugging him. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
“What—”
“Someone must have seen us kissing yesterday,” she said. “They set fire to the schoolhouse. The sheriff said he’s going to hang you!”
Sam looked thunderstruck, his soft features drawn, his mouth ajar. He hesitated for a moment, studying the firm, serious look in Katherine’s eyes.
And then he looked sad. He looked older.
“C’mon, Mary Lou.”
“We have to leave Mary Lou behind,” said Katherine, shaking her head. They would never make it out of town in time if they took her with them.
Sam stared at her a moment. She knew what the old donkey meant to him, and it broke her heart to do this. But they didn’t have a choice.
There were tears in his eyes. “Okay.”
He took her by the hand and turned from his onion cart, and his longtime companion, and quickly led Katherine to the water. His boat was tied to a tree by a long rope. He untied it, and they waded through the water and climbed aboard.
We’re going to make it.
She allowed herself to breathe at last, once they were settled in the rowboat and his powerful arms were rowing them away from the shore. She smiled at him, leaning forward to place her trembling hand on his knee. He smiled back.
There was a good deal of sadness on both of their faces, as they left the things they cherished, and a town that had become a home, behind. Her schoolhouse was burning—God only knows what they might be doing to her home.
But it would be all right.
We’re going to make it.
She would go anywhere, as long as she could stay with him. As long as she knew he was going to be safe.
But Sam's arms were no match for Trout Walker’s motorized boat. Evening was setting in, and they were little more than halfway across the lake, when Miss Katherine heard the loud roar of the engine. Then she saw the ugly black smoke...
She watched the small steamboat in the fading gloom of a stormy day, squinting up at the cloud cover overhead. She prayed for something to happen. She prayed for storm, or wind, or a broken cog – anything to buy Sam and her enough time to get to the other shore. There were four men onboard, and she didn’t need daylight to make out the shape of shadow-cloaked rifles in their hands.
She looked over her shoulder as Sam rowed on, and she could see it on his face. It wasn’t fear, or worry, or anxiety. He looked calm, and sad.
Resigned.
He knew what was coming.
Katherine had to swallow the lump in her throat at the sight, and force the smile to her lips. She wasn’t going to give up on him—on them—she would fight, tooth and nail, until they were either safe on the other shore or hanging next to each other in the square.
Her hand looked so small and milky white, when placed on top of his.
It would take a full day for Sam to row his boat across the lake, and another to return.
It took the Walker’s new steamboat forty-five minutes to cover the distance between them.
“Hands in the air now!” Trout shouted, rifle cocked and aimed even though he was still a few meters off.
“Trout, stop it!” Katherine screamed back, as Sam obediently lifted his hands from the oars.
“Katherine!” There was a warning tone to his sloppy voice, his boat skimming the water towards the little rowboat. “Now, you just hold tight, and come with us. Ain’t no reason for you to get caught in the middle of this.”
She shifted in the boat until she was in front of Sam, sheltering him as much as she could with her petite frame.
“I’m already in the middle of this,” she called. “And I’m not comin’ with you!”
“Damn it, girl!”
“Trout, please!”
“Don’t call me that!” he bellowed, his eye still trained on Sam. Sam didn’t move, or flinch, and wisely he didn’t speak. He sat staunch, hands in the air, ready for whatever awaited him.
“Think of what you’re doing!” Katherine begged. “Please!”
“Thought on it plenty.”
“No, you can’t! He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“That’s for the law and our Good Lord to decide!”
“You’re making a mistake! Trout!”
“I said not to call me that, woman!”
“Please,” she begged again, her voice gentler, and more afraid. Just what Trout wanted to hear. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want, just... don’t hurt him.”
Trout Walker’s finger relaxed on the trigger, just slightly.
Sam tipped his face toward Katherine, brow furrowed in concern.
"...Kate?"
There was a ferocity in Trout’s eyes as he watched, and she knew.
They weren’t going to make it out of this alive.
“No!” she cried. “Trout!”
She jumped, gasping as she felt the patter of what could have been raindrops against her skin. They stuck to her arm, to her neck, to her face, and in her mouth she could taste iron.
(She wouldn’t actually hear the gunshot until her ears stopped ringing.)
The scream could be heard for miles, echoing through every corner of the sleepy little town with the pillar of black smoke rising from its former schoolhouse.
.