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one
Sadie sits alone on a boulder along the edge of the makeshift camp at Horseshoe Overlook staring at the unfamiliar faces of each person passing by. They’ve been kind enough to her. If not for them, she’d very well be dead by now. Or worse. If there really is anything worse than the suffocating feeling of being well and truly alone. She misses Jake desperately. The life they built together in the mountains. The life they was supposed to share for so much longer. Snuffed out like a candle by a gang of monsters for no reason other than that they could. To her dying day, Sadie will always remember the flash of the O’Driscolls blade before he stuck it into Jake’s belly. The way he laughed with the others as Jake collapsed to his knees, hunched over with his hand held to his gut, covered in blood.
She sniffs and takes a drink of the coffee someone handed to her at some point, doesn’t taste the bitterness on her tongue, or feel the burn when she swallows. She’s staring sightlessly into the mirage of her home, reliving that night over and over again. Every day it’s the same until she collapses into a restless sleep at night and the horror invades her dreams. Jake’s blood oozing down the burning walls of their home. His dream-self screaming at Sadie words she cannot hear. His bloodied hand reaching out for her, but no matter how hard she tries she can never feel his touch. Memories repeat over and over again like her brain is trying to fix what it cannot even in dreams. This isn’t right, go back, go back, go back. And then it dissolves. Her dream self stares up into the bastard’s face who stole her husband’s life and her own along with it, the emptiness in his eyes all she can see when he grabs her by the waist and throws her to the floor.
“Mrs. Adler?”
Sadie startles, jerked back to the present. The sounds of camp life fade back in around her and she looks up to see Abigail standing before her holding out a bowl of stew, the sunlight that peeks between the clouds above shining a warm glow around her.
“I thought you could use somethin’ to eat,” she says, her smile kind. There’s a sadness in her eyes that calls to Sadie like an old friend. An entire lifetime of her own grief and pain hidden there in the depths like she too is a survivor making do in a world that sees fit to tear her apart.
Sadie tries her best to smile in return, knowing her lips barely move and it never reaches her eyes besides, and takes the offered bowl with a nod of gratitude.
Abigail sits next to her. She too stares ahead into the camp, watching in a steady silence as the rest of the gang goes about their daily tasks.
Sadie lifts a spoonful of stew to her lips. Tastes it as much as the coffee she doesn’t remember dumping on the ground at her feet.
“How are you doing?” Abigail asks.
Sadie snorts. Shakes her head slightly and watches her spoon drag through the stew she’ll let turn to cold sludge and then dump the same as the coffee. “I’m fine,” she lies. Doesn’t even care that it’s an obvious one. She spins the spoon around and around a chunk of meat, digging a moat like it’s an untouchable castle. She drops the spoon with a dull thud against the edge of the bowl.
“I know things is tough,” Abigail murmurs.
And then there’s a hand on Sadie’s leg and she tenses, her nerves burning fast and her breath stuttering in her chest, a crack of tension as fast as a gunshot. Her skin crawls, desperate to yank away, run away. But it’s only Abigail, of course. Who else would it be? Sadie forces herself to relax with a shuddered breath and attempts another half-hearted smile when she looks into Abigail’s eyes again, a wordless apology for her reaction.
Abigail smiles, her eyes warm and an understanding there that eats away at Sadie. “Things is tough,” Abigail says again. “But these are good people. They’ll help you back on your feet and wherever you want to go. Or do whatever you want to do.”
Her hand is warm when she moves it to the top of Sadie’s. Soft. The first kind touch Sadie has felt in an age or a week, could be a month, or maybe it’s only been a few days, but it feels like forever and only seconds all the same. Abigail’s thumb brushes along her skin gently and Sadie swallows hard, her vision going blurry with a sudden urge to cry for reasons she can’t explain.
“I know.” She nods and Abigail squeezes her hand in wordless understanding. “Thank you, Abigail.”
two
There’s yelling when Sadie guides Bob into camp at Clemens Point.
“If you want me to go, that’s fine. But I don’t do that anymore, you dried up, miserable, old coot!” Abigail faces off against Miss Grimshaw outside of John’s tent, her shoulders squared and back ramrod straight in the same argument they have on a near daily basis lately.
Sadie pets Bob’s jaw and dismounts, turning to pull a few bits she stole off some local gang with ideas about a lady’s place. They won’t be needing them now and Sadie’ll throw ‘em into the gang’s collection box, hopeful that Dutch will let her go on jobs if he sees she can pull her weight the same as any of the men. Most of them being less than useless.
She drops off her loot and snaps the box closed with a click just as the argument takes a hard turn toward angrier. The men have made themselves scarce, the cowards. Even Arthur seems to have disappeared and she knows he’s here somewhere, saw his horse grazing when she first rode into camp.
She steps between Miss Grimshaw and Abigail with a hand to Abigail’s waist. “Miss Grimshaw,” she greets, her voice placating. “How ‘bout I take Abigail into town for a few hours? We’ll find us some work while we’re there and she can get away for a bit.”
Grimshaw echoes Abigail’s tense body language for a moment, then turns away without a word in reply, muttering to herself as she goes. “The insolence of these brats. My Madame beat girls who behaved in such a manner…ideas above her station...”
Sadie snorts and turns to give Abigail her attention. “Well?”
“I…” Abigail hesitates. “It sounds nice, Mrs. Adler, but I can’t leave Jack. Who’ll look after him?”
That’s when Sadie spots Arthur eavesdropping from near Pearson’s table now that the danger of two women arguing has ended. She grins when he realizes he’s been noticed. “Arthur,” she laughs when he pretends he’s digging around in his satchel in a futile attempt at actin’ busy then turns to head in the opposite direction. “Oh, no you don’t,” she calls. “Me and Abigail are goin’ into town. You think you could watch little Jack? You know his father’s still useless as anything right now.”
Her eyes flick over Arthur’s shoulder where John absolutely heard her comment if the scowl on his face ain’t tellin’ lies.
Arthur, good boy that he is, sighs in reluctant acceptance. “Sure,” he mutters. “I’ll keep an eye on ‘im. You two try not to get yourselves killed.” He grins. “I know how you are, Mrs. Adler.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” Sadie laughs, feigning innocence. “Come on, Abigail.” She steers Abigail in the direction of her horse, helping her up to sit sideways behind the saddle.
Sadie sets a slow pace to Rhodes. Abigail’s arms are locked tight around her waist and it’s...well. It’s nice. The most human contact she gets anymore these days is the bodies of men she loots after she’s shot them dead. She smiles to herself when Abigail leans her forehead down against the back of her shoulder. It’s the first time in a while she ain’t been disgusted by the touch of another human and maybe she’s missed it just a little.
The air is warm, even if it is too sticky, and the breeze feels good on her skin too. They’re silent the whole ride into town in a way Sadie appreciates, hates having to talk just because someone fears silence. She rides right down the Main Street through Rhodes, grinning cruelly at the men they pass by who gawk and glare at the sight of two women—one of whom is dressed like a man—riding alone like they might deserve a place in the world that ain’t just at the kitchen table baking pecan pies.
They hitch outside the saloon and Abigail stops Sadie just outside the door with a gentle hand to her arm. “Thank you, Mrs. Adler.”
“Don’t mention it. And hey, you know I want you to call me Sadie.”
She marches over to the bartender as soon as she steps foot inside the doors. “Can I get a bath, please?”
He denies her, the bastard. Normally she’d just shoot first, deal with it later these days, but Abigail stands right behind her so she smiles the sweetest she can muster but her face feels so tight it probably looks more like a grimace than anything. “Now, Mister. Do you want to let my friend here take a bath in your fine establishment so she can relax for once or do you want me to shoot every single bottle of the liquor supply you’ve got back there?” She slams her gun on the bar to emphasize her point.
Smart man that he is after all, he obliges, and Sadie tips her fingers against her hat in a salute the way she learned from Arthur. She grabs Abigail by the hand and leads the way up to the bath.
Abigail sinks down into the water like it’s the best thing she’s felt in years, her head leaned back and her eyes shut with a real sweet smile whispering across her lips.
Sadie takes a seat on the floor with her back to the side of the bathtub. She laughs when Abigail sighs happily after sinking below the surface to wet her hair and settles back comfortably again. “John needs to get you out of camp more often.”
She’s met with silence and Sadie tilts her head to the side in confusion.
“Me and John,” Abigail murmurs. “We ain’t…” She trails her arms through the water, watching as they move back and forth. “We ain’t together. He’s Jack’s father and I want him to quit actin’ like a fool and be his father. But, well. We want different things.” She sighs and mumbles as if to herself, “We always wanted different things.”
Sadie sits there thinkin’ about what that could mean for a long while. “You ever play poker?” she asks instead.
There’s the splash of water when Abigail lifts her arm free and rests it along the edge of the tub near where Sadie sits and she laughs quietly. “Yeah, Arthur taught me when I was pregnant with Jack.”
“Well, I bet we could scam some of them fellers downstairs out of a few of their dollars. They probably think they could trounce a couple broads like us.” She tilts her head back and smiles wide at Abigail. “We ride back to camp a few dollars richer and Grimshaw’s bound to stay off your back for at least a little while.”
Abigail hums. “That’d be real nice.” She relaxes until the water goes cold then washes off quickly so they can make their way downstairs.
Sadie sweet talks her way into a game with three men who leer at them both they’ve just won a trunk full of California gold. She plays foil to Abigail’s competent hand as a means to draw away attention that Abigail knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I don’t know, Mister. Is this a good hand?” Sadie splays out her cards on the table and bites off an amused snort when the men groan.
“You ain’t supposed to show us your cards, lady!”
The two of them win six separate hands before the men start suspecting something is afoot.
“You’re a goddamn cheat, you little whore,” the ugliest of the three growls and yanks Abigail up by the arm.
“Get your hands off her, Mister.” Sadie stands and pulls her gun from her holster. “Don’t blame her because you’re terrible at poker.”
The saloon freezes at the commotion, all eyes turned on them, most in disgust at the idea of a woman talking to a man so disrespectfully.
“I’m gettin’ my money back,” he snarls and shakes his hold along Abigail’s arm, the implication in how he expects to get his money from Abigail right there for Sadie to see in the curl of his lips and the twisted pleasure in his eyes.
Sadie sees red. Her heart pounds so hard she can hear it in her ears alongside the echo of the O’Driscoll’s laugh. She moves without thinkin’ much about it, not that a spared thought would mean she acted any different in hindsight. She raises her gun and shoots the guy in the arm he’s got holding tight on Abigail.
He screams and panic sets off in the saloon, men and working girls fleeing out the exits of the saloon. The asshole drops to his knees gripping his arm tight and still screaming in agony. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you,” Sadie growls. She turns toward Abigail and grabs her hand tight. They run out of the saloon and down the back road headed in the direction of the train station but Sadie yanks Abigail across the tracks instead when she sees one of Gray’s deputies headed their way.
“Come on,” she whispers and they sneak into the nearby trees. They hide out there for a while and Sadie keeps watch for any deputies on patrol. “Alright, I think we’re clear.” She whistles for Bob and he comes running from off in the distance.
She pauses at a soft touch to her wrist. Abigail looks real sweet in a way entirely too earnest when Sadie turns toward her.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Abigail stares into her eyes and Sadie scoffs. “Course I did. He got what he deserved layin’ a finger on you.” She pulls Abigail by the hand, leading her over to Bob when he approaches.
But Abigail stops before she’s helped up behind the saddle again. “Well, thank you, Sadie.” She smiles, soft and warm and beautiful in the waning sunlight. “Thank you.”
There’s so much more behind the words than just gratitude for helpin’ her out of a sticky situation, Sadie can see it there shining in her eyes. And then Sadie’s breath closes tight in her throat when Abigail leans forward and presses the softest kiss to her cheek.
They ride back to camp and Sadie feels warm for the first time since she left her home for the last time. As soon as they’re back, Sadie marches over to the collection box and writes Abigail’s name alongside $23.
three
Everything is wrong. Everything is a mess. John is in jail. Abigail’s in a panic. Hosea is dead. Lenny is dead. Sadie ain’t got a clue where the rest of the gang is, but it don’t matter because they gotta get outta here before the law finds them and they’re all dead too.
Pearson and Grimshaw are yelling instructions at the girls, everyone dashing around packing up what they can fit in the wagons. Sadie packs up Arthur’s room and pulls Karen aside to help her get it all downstairs.
As soon as they’re ready, they set off out of Shady Belle for the last time and Sadie can’t say she’ll miss the place. Too much dark history that makes her skin crawl the same way it does every time she thinks of home. Time’s been actin’ real strange again ever since they moved to Shady Belle. There was everything with Bronte, Dutch makin’ decisions that ain’t right to anyone with a lick of sense, O’Driscolls showin’ up with poor Kieran. Sadie’s throat still feels hoarse from her screams of blood-fueled rage, a rage that ain’t really abetted since.
But she’s got bigger things to worry about right now, gotta get everyone to safety and then get word out any way she can so they can be found again. She steers the lead wagon out onto the main road and heads east toward an abandoned settlement she passed by a week or so ago.
There’s a shuddered breath next to her in the seat and Sadie flicks her eyes off the road and to Abigail by her side. She’s got Jack held tight in her lap, his head resting on her shoulder fast asleep.
“You okay?” Sadie whispers, knowing the answer is no but asking anyway because what else is there to do? Abigail laughs quietly and Sadie can hear the bitten-back tears in her voice. She sets her hand on Abigail’s knee. “It’s gonna be okay,” she says even though neither of them really believe it.
Abigail’s breath shudders again. “The boy needs his father.” She runs her hand down the back of Jack’s head in a soothing stroke, her fingers slipping into his hair gently.
“We’re gonna get John, Abigail.”
Abigail nods, her lips rolling in between her teeth.
Sadie squeezes her knee. “We will.” She musters a gentle smile when Abigail sets her hand atop her own and squeezes in return.
four
Sadie thought Shady Belle felt wrong, but it was the paradise Dutch fantasizes about compared to where they are now. Sadie’s seen evil, feels it growing inside her own body day by day, but she ain’t ever seen anything as truly inhumane as the remains of what they rode in on when the gang arrived at Beaver’s Hollow.
Almost as soon as they arrived, she and Arthur went off to break John outta jail and Sadie was only too happy to get away from there for at least a little while.
Abigail’s real thankful when they ride back into camp, but it’s a subdued relief when all of them feel the buzz of their instincts tellin’ them they need to get going away from this place. She hugs Sadie tight once John is settled in and changed out of his prison outfit and gets some damn shoes on his feet. They stand there right in the middle of camp for a few brief moments that Sadie wishes could go on longer, Abigail holding her tight and her head resting right in the crook of Sadie’s neck. It’s the nicest thing Sadie’s felt in a while with everything collapsing all around them. Dutch gone mad, Micah whispering god knows what in his ear, Arthur sick as hell and only gettin’ worse. So Sadie stands there and she holds Abigail back just as tight tryin’ to pretend that nothing else exists.
five
Sadie thought she’d be happy. Well, that’s a lie. She thought she’d feel something when Colm was dead. When she killed the monster who ruined her life. But all she feels is nothing.
She and Arthur part ways when every last O’Driscoll at Hanging Dog Ranch is dead on the ground, their bodies looted, nothing but food for birds and scavenging animals. She takes the long way back to camp with nowhere better to go and maybe she should’ve heeded Arthur’s advice after all and changed outta her clothes, rider’s passing by hurry along when they see her coated in drying blood.
She eases Bob back into camp well past nightfall. The atmosphere is tense and Sadie glances over at Dutch’s tent, his silhouette little more than a hunched shadow lit by the burning lamp inside. A few of the girls are asleep and Sadie doesn’t wanna disturb anyone who can find a moment’s rest so she heads over to the fire where Abigail is sitting instead.
Abigail glances up on Sadie’s approach and bolts to her feet. “Sadie? What happened to you?” She rushes over and pulls Sadie closer to the fire, her hands tugging on Sadie’s blood-stained clothes and touching her everywhere on the hunt for injuries.
“Me and Arthur took out some O’Driscolls. He back yet?”
Abigail nods and lowers her hands when she’s satisfied Sadie has no lasting damage. “He and John went off on somethin’ for Dutch a couple hours ago. Come on.” She grabs Sadie by the hand and pulls her over to John’s abandoned tent, directing her to sit. “I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
Sadie feels a little better once she’s in clothes not covered in O’Driscoll, but she knows she ain’t sleepin’ tonight even as Abigail pushes her to lie down on John’s cot. She grabs for Abigail’s hand when she rises to her feet, stopping her from leaving the tent in a well-intentioned but unwanted desire to give Sadie some privacy. “Stay here with me?”
Abigail smiles gently. “Of course.”
Sadie shifts closer to the wall of the tent so Abigail can climb in front and they maneuver around to try and find some sort of comfortable position. It’s Sadie who ends up with her head to Abigail’s shoulder, Abigail on her back and an arm wrapped tight behind Sadie in an effort to comfort her. They lie there together and Sadie listens to the steady rhythm of Abigail’s heartbeat. “I miss him,” she whispers.
Abigail pulls her in tighter and runs her fingertips up and down Sadie’s spine.
six
Sadie’s sittin’ on the broken pier at Copperhead Landing staring out into the water of the Lannahechee River, exhausted to her bones. Where do they even go from here? Away is the obvious answer but to where? Milton is dead, shot by Abigail in Van Horn. Surely the Pinkertons will come hunting and they ain’t got a plan. Sadie scoffs to herself at the thought and spits in the water. “Dutch, you bastard,” she mutters.
“Hey.”
Sadie glances over her shoulder and sees Abigail approaching, glowing by the light of the campfire behind her. “Hey,” Sadie musters and pats the hard wood of the pier right next to her. “Sit.”
They sit there with the moon reflecting off the water, Abigail leaning against Sadie’s side and her head resting on her shoulder. Seeking the smallest comfort when everything else is so wrong. Sadie takes a hold of her hand, warm and soft, their fingers interlocked, and they squeeze each other tight.
They both tense at once at the sound of hooves and Sadie jumps to her feet, yanking her gun from her holster and aiming it at the rider approaching fast on a horse.
“We ain’t got time for company,” she yells at the figure she can’t make out in the dark. But he shouts her name and Sadie is overcome with relief the second she recognizes his voice, as easy to identify him by as the scars slashed across his face.
“John!” Abigail cries and then she’s running toward him, practically hopping on him for a hug, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders and crying in relief. “Arthur said you was dead!” She rears back when she notices the crusted blood on the shoulder of his coat.
“Almost was. Dutch left me behind.”
He walks closer to Sadie with Abigail still clinging to his side trying to examine his injury with all the stealth of an opossum playing dead. The second Sadie sees his face she wants to turn away. He’s got a wild look about him, like a cornered wolf barely holding back from snapping. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy and Sadie knows without having to hear a word what that means. Her chest feels like it’s caved in the second she recognizes the look in his eyes. Grief the likes of which Sadie has felt for months now and she has a moment of crystal clear understanding when she meets his eyes.
“Where’s…?” Abigail starts but cuts herself off in her own realization. Her chest heaves with a snap of a shuddered breath and she turns to hug John tight. “Oh, John,” she whispers and Sadie wonders if she already knew what Sadie has just seen for the first time.
John clears his throat to gather himself before speaking. “Jack?”
“He’s okay. He’s asleep with Tilly in the tent there.”
“God,” John mutters. “I need some sleep.”
“Go, waiting a couple hours longer won’t do us no harm.” Abigail lets go of John and walks back to join Sadie again. “Me and Sadie will keep watch.” She grabs ahold of Sadie’s hand again with a smile that looks a little more real with the knowledge that John is alive and breathing.
seven
Sadie ain’t seen John in years when he walks into the Valentine saloon. He looks good, healthier than the last time she saw him anyway. A little less skin and bones, a few more wrinkles around his eyes. She stares hard at the hat on his head, the leather rope that bounces with each step he takes. If she looks hard enough she can see reflections of herself there within his eyes like looking into a shattered mirror. She turns away, offers him a job.
“How’s Abigail?” she asks as they ride out of town. She turns toward him while they ride side by side down the road and puzzles at the knowing look in his eye, the smirk he can’t quite contain.
His answer is just as vague, only enough that Sadie can glean not all is right and Abigail ain’t currently with him.
--
Months later and she finishes up another bounty with John in the forests of Tall Trees. The two of them make one hell of a team, even if John did have a close encounter with a fucking monster. She snorts to herself every time she hears his shocked voice repeating that in her head. They drop off the dumb fool that nearly got John killed at the sheriff’s in Blackwater and Sadie’s just opened her mouth to say her goodbyes once again before she’s cut off.
“You should come around for a visit. I think...” John hesitates, staring at her hard like he’s gauging her reaction to what he’s saying. “I think Abigail would really like that.”
Sadie ain’t got a reason to say no and it’d be nice to see Abigail again besides so they ride into Beecher’s Hope together and Sadie’s gotta admit that John’s done well by Abigail. It’s a nice place, probably decent farming. But more than that, she knows Abigail’s gotta be real happy here.
John grins when he looks over at her. “Built it myself and all. Well, me and Charles. Uncle was…” He pauses and snorts in disgust. “There.”
Speak of the devil and he must hear his name because Uncle walks out of the house almost as soon as John finishes talking. Abigail runs out behind him when he calls her name over his shoulder and the second she spots Sadie her eyes light up like the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds after a heavy rain. “Sadie,” she calls out in surprise, all sweet sounds of delight.
As soon as Sadie’s dismounted off Hera, she’s enveloped in a hug so ferocious she has to take a couple paces back to keep her balance. But she hugs Abigail just as hard.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Abigail whispers in her ear.
eight
Sadie swears she can hear someone crying but all she can see is darkness. She tries to open her eyes but can’t seem to fight her way out. She’s trapped somewhere and can’t move and every time she tries her body screams at her in agony like if she moves that’ll be the very end. So she stays wherever she is. Can barely tell if she’s breathin’ half the time or if she’s dead. Stuck in the place between Heaven and Hell just as she was when she was living.
The heavy weight of something drops on top of her, enveloping her, tucked in along her side. And then she’s warm where she realizes she was shivering cold before. She can feel touch. It’s warm too, so warm it feels like it burns against her skin. A hand holding her own tight in its gentle grasp.
“Sadie,” a voice calls to her but she can’t find her voice to say anything in return.
nine
She stays at Beecher’s Hope while she heals from her injury. Micah is dead, that rat bastard. Dutch is gone god knows where but hopefully for good. John rides off with Charles for a few days once Sadie is awake and able to hobble around the house without him there to catch her should she fall to the floor.
Abigail is attentive in his stead. She feeds Sadie some truly abysmal stew that she eats all of anyway, never one to turn away a hot meal. She plays the piano for Sadie and somehow finagles a promise of a harmonica duet someday and Sadie thinks maybe she really will.
After Jack has gone to sleep at night, they lounge in front of the fire with Sadie sitting on a cushion placed on the floor at Abigail’s feet. She reads aloud while Abigail braids her hair after a bath. It’s warm, comforting. Quiet. But it’s not hers to keep. Ain’t her kind of life anymore, as much as a growing place inside of her screams at her to find some way to stay. She absentmindedly twists Jake’s ring around her finger with her thumb.
John returns with Charles again a few days later and he seems more at peace somehow, but Sadie knows better than to ask. It’s not her secret to know.
--
At dawn a couple weeks later, Sadie wakes and starts gathering everything she needs to leave. She’s outside brushing Hera down when footsteps approach behind her.
“Sadie.” John walks closer and grabs the brush from her hand like it’s enough to stop her in her tracks. “Stay.”
She stares at him standing there shivering in his union suit, his bare feet on the wood of the porch. His throat is covered in marks that make Sadie’s skin buzz in some feeling she can’t figure out, all muddied and confused. “But what about—”
He cuts her off. “But nothin’, Sadie. Stay. Abigail could make you real happy. And I know you stayin’ will make her happy, too.” He looks down at Sadie like he’s willing her to understand and sighs when she doesn’t. “She loves you, Sadie. Surely you ain’t that blind?”
There’s a throbbing pulse in her ears like a heartbeat or her own blood and she stares at him, knows she looks shell-shocked and feels like the biggest idiot there ever lived as a few pieces of Abigail slot into place inside the fragmented puzzle in Sadie’s head.
ten
She stays. But she sits on it for a few days. She doesn’t wanna rush it even when John glares at her like she’s a blind fool. It’s a few nights later when Sadie asks Abigail to join her out in the gazebo. They eat the dinner that Sadie prepared and she grins, all amused when Abigail makes a big show of how much she enjoys it with every single bite.
“I’m never cooking again!” she mumbles around a huge mouthful of food.
She moans happily like it really is the best thing she’s ever tasted and the sound makes Sadie blush a little now that she’s been shoved out of the darkness of her own ignorance by John. She’s realizing John is a bit of a meddler, not that she ain’t thankful in her own way. He ain’t subtle either now that Sadie knows what to look for. He’ll go off with Charles for some chore Sadie knows for a fact she already did that day and return with his hair a mess and a pleased look in his eyes that matches the twin on Charles’ face.
Now she’s sitting here with Abigail feeling more at peace than she has in years. A feeling she didn’t think she’d ever have again in her lifetime. She fiddles with Jake’s ring and breathes in the crisp air.
--
Abigail is beautiful when she laughs. It’s the silliest laugh Sadie thinks she’s ever heard but she loves it all the same. She’s in the middle of telling a story about Rufus from that afternoon when she’d taken a walk down to the river with Jack, and Sadie’s hit so suddenly with the need to tuck in the wisp of hair that's fallen free of Abigail’s bun.
“Abigail,” Sadie cuts her story off clumsily. She smiles sheepishly but scoots closer and places her hand on top of Abigail’s where it rests on the tabletop. She’s scared out of her damn mind for a second that she’s wrong—that John is wrong—until she sees the transformation flutter across the landscape of Abigail’s face.
“Sadie,” Abigail breathes out her name like a sigh and Sadie thinks she could hear that every day for the rest of her life if Abigail would let her. She lifts her hand and tucks the hair behind Abigail’s ear just the way she wanted to and then can’t help herself, she runs the backs of her knuckles down the softness of Abigail’s cheek.
They sit there staring at each other like they’re both waiting for what will happen next, letting the anticipation build, the butterflies fluttering away like crazy in Sadie’s belly. She smiles softly and sees the echo of it on Abigail’s face and that’s when she leans forward and kisses her.
Abigail sighs against her lips and her eyes don’t open for a few seconds when Sadie pulls back but when they do Abigail looks happy. And Sadie realizes maybe she will be too.