My breath is promptly knocked from my lungs, and I curl in on myself, grabbing my knees to remain upright. “Catherine.”
“I know, my boy. Your father is securing a horse. Your mother is packing clothes.”
I shake my head, feeling faint, her words not making any sense. “I don’t understand.”
Catherine’s hands pluck my face up, her touch grounding. “Despite their hard countenances, neither your mother nor your father want to see you dead, Jasper. Your father will say you ran and he went on horseback after you. Your mother will deny knowing a thing. You will leave, and you will never return.”
I inhale deeply, my body starting to shake. “I can’t…”
“You must.”
“But Abraham…”
“Will watch you die if you do not run.”
Ah.
Catherine squeezes my shoulders as I work to steady myself. She’s right. Of course she’s right.
Butoh mercy, how will I go?
“Do you… love me less… now that you know?” I ask around my labored breaths, my throat constricting tightly.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” Catherine says, a waver in her voice. “Never.”
I nod again and again, trying to get my wits about me, looking around frantically as if I’ll find answers somewhere out here in the dark. “How long do I have?”
“Your father will return within the hour. No more than that. Be quick.”
“I have to say goodbye,” I choke out.
“I know. Go, Jasper. Do not be seen.”
Catherine tugs me in close, placing a trembling kiss on my cheek. I wrap her in my arms, realizing this is the last time I’ll be able to do this. If I never return…
The pain nearly causes me to crumple.
I kiss Catherine’s forehead before spinning and running back the way I came.
My feet take me toward Abraham faster than they ever have before. I ignore the pain in my side and the way my shirt has lifted from my breeches and run. A branch scrapes my cheek as I move through the woods toward his home, so I hold my arm out in front of me, stumbling over roots, my breathing much too loud.
When I see his house through the trees, I stop, pulling in air and watching for anyone who might be passing at this late hour. The seconds tick painfully by, but, finally, I step out into the clearing and approach the small home. The window is covered, but I pray Abraham hears me through the thin barrier.
“Abraham,” I call at a hiss.
I wait before attempting it again, raising my voice only slightly. Seconds later, the door opens, and Abraham’s wide eyes meet mine. “Jasper?”
“Come,” I say quickly, racing back toward the trees. I don’t check to confirm he’s following, knowing he will.
I stop only once I reach the safety of the creek, and then I work to catch my breath.
“Jasper.” Worry is heavy on Abraham’s face as he comes to a stop in front of me, his hands bracketing my cheeks, callused thumbs stroking over my skin. “What is it?”
I can’t find the words. I wrap my arms around him, my face pressed against his chest, and cry. Abraham shushes me gently, his hands rubbing soothing paths along my back. It feels like a lifetime before I’m able to speak, even though I know it’s only minutes. Minutes neither of us have.
“I came to say goodbye,” I manage.
Abraham stills, pulling me back from his chest to look at me in the dark. “Goodbye?”
