Chapter eleven
The Horseman watched from the shadows of the forest. Darkness had been his constant companion, yet the light of Katrina’s presence—her quiet glow as she strolled home with her maid arm-in-arm—drew him in. A pleasant heat curled around his ribs at her soft smile.
Since saving her, he felt the lost fragments of himself struggling to fuse, like gluing a shattered pot with missing shards. Yet, the closer he got to her, the more the uncertainty and fear coiled within him, warning him to stay away from the past lurking in his memories.
What if the truth of who he was and what he’d done was far worse than forgetting? Would Katrina want anything to do with him when everything was revealed?
But most of all, would he be able to live with himself?
He must have done something to deserve this fate. No innocent person would be cursed to live as a headless monster to roam the woods. Whatever he’d done, it must have been wretched, indeed.
A familiar, tall figure walked up the road, crossing paths with Katrina and her maid. Something tightened inside him, like a ball of thorny knots in his stomach, when he recognized the man.
Brom Bones.
The Horseman’s fists tightened as the man approached Katrina and tipped his hat toward her. Katrina gave Brom a coy smile, and a wave of heat burned through the Horseman’s veins like molten fire.
Although he watched from a safe distance, their voices carried on the wind.
“Why, Mister Van Brunt,” Katrina said, “what a lovely surprise.”
“Not as lovely as you are, my dear Katrina,” Brom said, reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on it. A spike drove into the Horseman’s stomach.
He didn’t understand what this feeling was—this outpouring of rage. Was it protectiveness? Or something else?
Katrina removed her hand, and a dainty giggle escaped her rosy mouth. The spike stabbed deeper until the Horseman’s breath snagged in his throat.
“You’re such a charmer,” she said.
“I could be much more to you, Katie,” Brom said, stepping closer.
Katie? The Horsman’s fingers clenched, aching to tear the man apart.
“How does any woman resist you?” she asked, stepping back.
Brom smirked and grabbed her hand. “They usually don’t.”
“Now, now,” she said with a tilt of her head. “Let’s not be too hasty.”
“I’d be a fool if I didn’t make you my bride here and now.”
The Horseman’s pulse roared in his ears. His knuckles burned, his fingers cracking against his curled fists. How dare he?
The Horseman paused. Was this envy? Jealousy? It couldn’t be.
Katrina’s tinkling laughter snapped him out of his rage-induced haze. She gave Brom a dazzling smile.
She had reassured him that she didn’t wish to marry Mister Van Brunt and wanted nothing to do with him. But he couldn’t tear his eyes off how she twirled a lock of golden hair around her finger.
“Just be patient, Brom. All in due time,” she said.
The Horseman’s anger sizzled like a fire doused with a bucket of water. The spike in his gut tore through the other side, leaving him breathless and in pain. All the fight left his body as he stared at the pair.
An ugly thought slithered into his mind. They make a fine couple, it said. A beautiful woman deserves a handsome man like Brom. Why would she ever choose a headless specter?
The thought shattered something fragile in his heart. Somehow, hope had crafted a dream he’d not been aware of—a hope of a future with Katrina Van Tassel. It had slipped past his defenses and now left him in utter ruin. How could he have been so foolish?
Katrina would never be in his future.
With that sinking thought, the Horseman turned away and could not bear to look at the couple any longer.
The darkness crept around Katrina. Owls hooted, and the leaves rattled above her, yet the once eerie woods no longer frightened her. She knew the Horseman was somewhere in the shadows to protect her, which warmed her heart more than anything—more than any man she knew could comfort her.
The thought made her pause, wondering why her pulse raced in anticipation of meeting the Horseman.
She recognized that her goal of finally getting closer to the battlefield where her brother had fallen and making reparations was within her reach.
Yet she’d somehow been distracted by a friendly ghost along the way.
However, she froze when she found the Horseman at their meeting place. His shoulders sagged, and he did not have the pumpkin on his neck. He stood motionless against the moonlight, like a silent wraith standing guard.
“Hello?” she asked gently. Tonight, they were to visit where he last remembered gaining consciousness. Without a word, he strode in the opposite direction, and she hurried to follow him.
“Are you all right?”
The Horseman shifted beside Inferno. She wondered if he could speak without his pumpkin head to convey his words. It was difficult to determine his feelings without the pumpkin to express himself. She relied on the minuscule body language he portrayed.
“It is nothing,” he said, but his fists curled at his sides. The voice came from deep within, echoing in his chest cavity.
“I don’t believe you,” Katrina said, keeping up with his quick stride. “Surely you can speak your mind around me. Are we not friends?”
“You consider me a friend?” he asked, his voice uncertain.
“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling to reassure him. “I enjoy your company.”
“More than Brom’s?”
Katrina blinked in surprise. “No... I do not consider him a friend. Where is this coming from?”
“I saw him with you,” he said, like a whisper through the leaves. “I saw how he looked at you. He said he wished to marry you. And you did not—” his voice sputtered, and his hands unfurled. “You didn’t turn him away.”
Inferno snorted as if in agreement with his master.
Her brow furrowed, and a sharp exhale escaped her lips. “Yes, he approached me,” she admitted, keeping her voice steady but firm despite the frustration bubbling within her. “I was trying to appease him so he would give me more time, but I do not wish to marry him. Surely you know this?”
Silence expanded the growing abyss between them.
“Yes,” he said, his rumbling voice a strange, resigned sound. “But he is… a man. Real and alive. He is a fine match.”
“No,” she insisted, taking a step closer. “I wish to be with someone who sees my worth. Brom only sees what he will gain from me, and I refuse to be content with someone who will not love me as I am.”
“But you will marry him.”
Katrina’s lips parted. The Horseman’s rigid posture wavered before he twisted his shoulder toward her.
A flood of confusion filled her mind. She didn’t understand why he would sound distraught over her inevitable future with Brom. Yet, something fluttered in her stomach.
“Yes, I must,” she said, unwilling to let him evade her. She stood in front of him, forcing him to stop. She took a step forward and another until she was mere inches away. “But I do not take pleasure in it. I wish I could be with—”
She bit the words back before she could say them.
Her eyes widened at the truth that nearly slipped from her mouth.
The Horseman leaned toward her, and her breath hitched.
It shouldn’t have been possible, but heat emanated from his body as if he were a living, breathing man.
She stared up at the gaping hole in his neck and couldn’t help but imagine his eyes locking on her and his face softening.
A silent tension stretched between them before she averted her gaze.
“We’re here,” he murmured. Katrina’s head flew up in surprise as the Horseman gestured to the glade before them.
Towering trees with claw-like branches stretched over the small space. Leaves littered the ground, and a breeze kicked them up in a swirling dance. Inferno clomped forward to graze on the brush, and they slowly followed him.
“This is the last place you remember?” she asked.
“Yes. This is where I awoke.”
Katrina frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I was lying there.” He pointed to a spot before them. “I woke up and found my head missing. But I had Inferno and the pumpkin beside me. That is how I came to be.”
Her lips thinned into a line of thought. She didn’t imagine ghosts manifesting as he described; rather, she figured they might rise out of a grave rather than in a peaceful glade.
“Do you feel anything when you’re here?” she asked. “Are there any emotions or memories?”
“No.”
Katrina expelled a long sigh. Perhaps it would have been too easy if he had suddenly regained all his memories by coming here.
“I am sorry,” he said, his chest leaning forward as if his imaginary head bowed.
“Do not be,” she said, “it’s not your fault you cannot remember.”
“I know, but I also wish to apologize for doubting you. I thought you might have misled me with your intentions for Brom, but I see I was wrong.”
Katrina’s face softened. “It’s all right. It must have appeared as though I was encouraging him. But I put on an act so he could leave me alone.” She sighed and craned her neck to look at the night sky. “Sometimes I wish heaven could arrange the stars so I could escape the road before me.”
“Perhaps they have,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“My path is altered because you are here with me… perhaps it is the same for you.”
Her heart stuttered. It was true, though, in a way.
She was alone in the woods, in a quiet glade, with a mysterious figure.
Her life had diverged in this strange way thus far, and maybe it had more plans for her than she expected.
Although she should’ve been afraid of him, she felt peace in his presence.
Being with him, this time they shared, was what she looked forward to most in her day.
“Perhaps,” she said. “I cannot say I expected to spend time with a specter like yourself.”
“Nor I with you. I will be remiss when this is over.”
Sadness panged her heart at the thought. “As I will, too,” she admitted.
Something shifted in his stance. He took a step closer, his boldness drawing her speechless with his proximity. Though he had no expression, she sensed hesitation, a yearning to grow closer. Then, slowly, his smooth, gloved hand rose to her cheek. It hovered there, asking for silent permission.
Her heart hammered in her chest. This was inappropriate between two friends, but she couldn’t help but lean into his offered hand.
The cold met her skin, and she shivered for reasons entirely beside the chill in the air.
Her eyes fluttered shut briefly before they focused on the emptiness at his neck.
“You are warm,” he murmured.
Katrina’s cheeks heated even more. She wondered if he could sense the increase of warmth against his hand. “I suppose being alive helps,” she said.
“I feel alive,” he said. “With you.”
Her mouth grew dry, and in the darkness, a silver light traced the vague shape of a face above his neck. She blinked, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her, but she could not deny the subtle glow.
Before she had time to process the light, the image disappeared into a shimmering dust.