Chapter 30
Micah returns to the room about an hour after Burgundy leaves. I’ve been dozing but only lightly, so my eyes pop wide when he opens the door.
He smiles fondly as he steps inside. “I was trying not to wake you up.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Your eyes were closed.”
“I was just dozing.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
I give him a little glare as he toes off his shoes and climbs into the bed beside me. “I don’t appreciate the skepticism.”
“No skepticism.” He stretches out and pulls me into a light embrace. “If you say you weren’t sleeping, then I believe it.”
“I was dozing.”
“Got it.” He sighs as he strokes my loose hair. “You feeling okay?”
“I feel like every part of my body aches, and my ankle is still throbbing, but overall I’ll do.”
“Good. Because I’m not going to be okay if you’re seriously injured. There’s only so much my poor heart can take.”
I nestle against him. “I’m fine. Maybe even good.”
“All right then. And speaking of my poor heart…” He pauses for effect before he continues, “I did hear you right back up on that hill, didn’t I?”
“I assume you did. I hadn’t shot a rifle right in your ear yet.”
“Kat.”
“I love you, Micah,” I blurt out since I know he needs me to say it again. “I love you too.”
His whole body shakes against mine for just a few seconds. Then he relaxes and pulls me even closer. “Good. That’s what I thought you said.”
Maybe this is the moment for a deep, meaningful romantic climax, but we fall asleep instead.
I have no idea what time it is when I wake up again. The room is mostly dark, but it doesn’t feel like it’s dark outside. I lift my head and blink, trying to orient myself and figure out what’s going on.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Micah asks groggily.
“What time is it?”
“It’s close to five.”
“In the morning?”
“In the afternoon.” He chuckles and pulls me back down so I’m pressed against him. “We only slept for an hour or so.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I woke up a few minutes ago and checked.”
“Oh.” Relieved that he doesn’t have some sort of magic time-telling powers that I’m lacking, I relax and stroke his shirt. “You smell like soap. Do you know that?”
“I figured it would be kinder if I washed up some before I got in bed with you.”
“Oh. That was kind. But if you’re hoping for sex, you’re going to be disappointed. I still feel like a paper clip that’s been twisted all out of shape.”
“Good comparison.”
“I thought so.”
“And I wasn’t expecting sex. Not when you’re injured. I just want to be close to you if that’s all right.”
“That’s just fine with me.”
“Are you up to talking a little?”
I swallow, suddenly nervous because I’m not sure what he wants to talk about. “I… guess so.”
“Nothing too deep or difficult. At least I don’t think so. I just want to… I want to know what you’re thinking. About us, I mean.”
I lift my head and frown down at him. “I told you I love you.”
“I know. You have no idea what that means to me, and if that’s all I ever get from you, it will be enough.
But I keep turning questions over and over in my mind because I don’t know what I can…
I can hope for here. Because love looks different for different people.
I want… I want everything from you. The whole traditional commitment package.
But I don’t know what you want, and I don’t want to pressure or rush you.
So can you… can you give me an idea of where you are right now? So I’ll… So I’ll know.”
A rush of affection floods my heart at his careful, stumbling monologue. I want to squeeze him, but I’m afraid it would hurt all the cuts on my skin.
So instead, I find and squeeze his hand.
“Okay. I get it. Here’s what I’m thinking.
I love you. All the way. I’ve never loved anyone like this before, and I doubt I will again.
I want us to… to be together. All the way.
When I return home, I want you to come with me.
I’m committed. Exclusive. There’s not going to be anyone else for me. ”
Micah inhales and lets it out in a loud, shaky rasp. He squeezes my hand. “Good. That’s good.”
“That’s what you want too?”
“Yes, that’s what I want.”
“I’d rather take it slow on anything else. I mean… marriage or… or whatever. I’ve never really wanted kids, so—”
“I’m not asking for kids, baby. I want you, exactly as you are.”
“Okay. That’s good then.” I’m smiling against his chest, and I’m pretty sure he’s smiling too. But because my mind works this way, I say, “I’m a little worried about Logan though.”
“What are you talking about? Logan isn’t going to do anything to come between us.”
“I know that. That’s not what I mean. It’s just that… you’re part of the community here. These are your people. And if you love me exactly as I am, then you’ll understand that I love you that way too. Exactly as you are. And I want you to have all the things you want. Even this community.”
“I didn’t…” His voice wobbles audibly. “I didn’t think that was even an option.”
“I don’t know, Micah. I really don’t. I still don’t want to join up with Logan like that, but I don’t want to hold you back from it if you want to keep that connection. So maybe we can work out some sort of… some sort of part-time thing.”
“Part-time?” It’s clear from his voice that he’s smiling now.
“Yes. Something like that. So we can split time or whatever. Maybe we can figure something out.”
He readjusts me so he can see my face. He cups one of my cheeks in his hand. “You’d do that for me?”
“I love you. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make you happy. And the truth is… Please don’t ever tell anyone that I’ve said this, but the truth is… Shit.”
I take a ragged breath and get it out. “The truth is, Logan isn’t as bad as I thought.”
An hour later, Micah comes back into the room after going to check about dinner.
“They’ve made a bonfire and are eating outside. I can bring you something. They wanted me to get my guitar, but I don’t have to. I can eat in here with you.”
I smile, touched by his attempts to be sensitive to my preferences. “You should join them. Actually, if there’s going to be music, maybe I can summon the will to get out of this bed.”
He brightens. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I really feel okay. Just exhausted. But I’ll sleep better if I get out for an hour or so.”
He helps me out of bed, grabs his guitar, and waits while I put on my jeans, sweatshirt, and shoes. Then he helps me walk down the hall and outside to the courtyard where a group is gathering.
All of Logan’s soldiers don’t live here.
A lot have their own place like Deck and Lilah (although the two of them are spending the night here instead of going home).
And many are on duty right now, stationed at guard posts or on their rotation for domestic work.
But there are about three dozen of us scattered around the bonfire, eating roasted pork on skewers, potatoes, and greens.
The food is delicious, and Micah makes a comfortable seat for me against the side of an outbuilding. Everyone seems to be in a festive mood, and I don’t know if they just enjoy the bonfire or if it’s because of our successful mission earlier.
Logan himself comes out after a while carrying a toddler—his daughter Elizabeth—who wants to check out all the fun.
After the food, Micah picks up his guitar. One of the older men pulls out a harmonica, and Deck moves a hand drum between his legs.
People call out requests and suggestions, and a lot of those gathered sing along.
I love it. I sing “I’ll Fly Away” when Micah asks me to, and Burgundy, Lilah, and I sing an old Katy Perry girl-power song.
The two of them do some improvised dance steps, but my ankle prevents me from joining.
But it’s still great fun. We ham it up to such an extent that nearly everyone collapses into laughter and Micah can barely contain his hilarity enough to keep strumming.
After that, a couple of folks request familiar hymns. Then Micah and I do a popular country-western duet that leads to stirring applause.
When we’re done, Burgundy, who is seated on Micah’s other side, leans over and says something in his ear.
The song he starts playing is one I’ve never heard before.
It’s odd and compelling both. A strange combination of gospel, country, and sci-fi utopia. About a fantastical, perfect world that will come at the “turn of the century.”
Because the song is new to me, it takes a minute to wrap my head around it. Burgundy and Micah are the primary singers, but they must have sung this song before because a lot of the others join in on the chorus.
Something unexpected stirs inside me, both at the lovely, communal singing—multiple voices raised in melody and harmony, shaping something beautiful out of nothing—and by the unpredictable lyrics.
It must be written at least partly tongue-in-cheek, but the effect isn’t humor as much as a bittersweet poignancy in this hope, this unlikely vision of a better world in the future.
But the point isn’t the bittersweet unlikelihood of this world ever materializing.
The point is the hope.
It speaks to me. As much as anything ever has.
The words are easy, so I join in on the repeated chorus at the end. Micah has his eyes closed, and Burgundy is openly crying as she sings.
I feel like crying too, but I don’t. But I’m filled with something that spills out with my voice, that drums with the beat, that pulses with my blood.
Because I thought all of this was lost from the world.
But it’s not.
The next morning we say goodbye to Burgundy—only temporarily since we’ll be coming back here somewhat regularly. We still haven’t figured out exactly how the schedule will work, but Logan is open to Micah joining back on some sort of part-time basis.
After we say goodbye to Burgundy, we have to do the same to Deck and Lilah. And even Logan has deigned to come out of his council room to see us off.
“Don’t be strangers,” he says. “And I’ll let you know when we can use your help.”
“Sounds good. If you need us, we’ll be here.” Micah glances over at me, as if to check that he isn’t being presumptuous.
I nod so he knows I agree with what he said.
I’m about to turn away when I see Logan giving me an odd look.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Next time you’re here, we’ll have to do some target practice.”
“We already know she’s better than even Deck,” Micah says with a grin.
“Yes. But we don’t know if she’s better than me.”
This dry comment evokes laughter from the whole group. Even I have trouble holding back amusement.
Logan adds, “So next time you’re here, we’ll arrange it.”
“Is that a request or an order?” I ask, torn between annoyance at his presumption and a resigned kind of amusement.
“What do you think?” He almost, almost smiles. I’ve never seen him do that before.
I shake my head and turn around before he sees me smile back.
Damn Logan.
He might not be as heartless as I used to believe, but he’ll be bossy until the end.
A few hours later, we make it home. Me, Micah, and Molly. I’m so happy it feels like it’s spilling right out of my body.
Molly barks joyfully as she runs circles around the camper, making sure everything is in order and then snuffling demandingly at the door until I let her inside.
Micah and I smile at each other as we follow the dog in.
“It feels like home,” Micah says, reaching over to pull me into a hug. “I know it’s not the same as it is for you, but it feels like home to me now too.”
“Well, it should. Because it is your home.” I glance at Molly, who’s jumped onto the bed and is gazing at me with big eyes and lolling tongue. Then I smile back up at Micah. “All three of us are home.”