Page 39 of Horsemen and Hot Chocolate

“What?”

“Do not bear this guilt upon yourself,” she said. “Now I know the truth about my brother. He died as honorably as everyone said he had. He saved you. And I know he still loved me.”

Another cry wrenched from him. “It is a life undeserving.”

“No,” she said vehemently, her fingernails digging into his back. “It is a life he found worth saving—a life I’m so grateful to have beside me.”

The hesitant arms clutched onto her as if she were the only thing keeping him from sinking to the ground and joining the bones below.

“Why?” he asked, his ragged breaths slowing. “Why extend such grace to me? I cannot undo what I’ve done. Your brother should be here instead of me. He is more deserving than I.”

Katrina’s hand rubbed up and down his back. “Because he found you deserving. And in the end… we are all broken souls who don’t deserve grace. But we receive it anyway.”

Willem shuddered against her. “I don’t know how to live with myself. How to face the town with what I’ve done—how to face you. When I close my eyes, I am haunted by the images of war… of your brother… and I don’t know if I will ever be free of them.”

Katrina pulled back enough to see the gaping hole in his neck. No face appeared, but she sensed his grief—the darkness of shame hovering over him.

“Some memories may torment us for as long as we live,” she conceded. “I’ve lived with my guilt for fourteen years and borne it alone. It’s such a lonely burden.” Her breath hitched, but she graced him with a watery smile. “We no longer need to be alone if we have each other. We can learn to forgive ourselves.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” he whispered. “To forgive myself.”

Katrina felt that echo in her soul. “I understand the weight of feeling like this is all my fault, why my brother passed. But it is not our fault,” she said, and another swell of tears broke over her lashes. The truth stung her core, the pain releasing in torrent streams. For years, the pent-up anger and guilt ate her alive for what she had said to Johannes. But the words she wanted to deny herself came flowing out. “We were but children,” she whispered. “How can we hold such contempt for ourselves—for the things we said and did as frightened children?”

The Horseman shuddered beneath her, finally untangling himself from her embrace. She stared at where his head should be and felt the weight of his gaze piercing through her.

“Would you think so ill of another fourteen-year-old boy who had done the same?” she asked. “For running in the heat of such a terrible battle?”

“No,” Willem said—the tears from where his eyes should have been plopped onto the grass beneath them.

“It is not a place for children, yet you bore the nightmarish scenes,” she added. “You were brave when so many had turned away from the cause.”

“I was a coward,” he interrupted bitterly.

Katrina forged on. “I cannot fault you for being terrified when death rang all around you. When everything in your body screamed at you to survive… and I’m glad you did. I’m so glad you are alive.”

The wind howled around their silence. Katrina hoped he could sense her sincerity and feel the emotions she still couldn’t bring herself to say.

“I—” he started, his voice breaking. “I still do not know why you are glad. I am the reason for your suffering—child or not. I took the most precious thing from you.”

“How can you be responsible for my brother’s actions? He chose to protect you, and he is not the only person who is precious to me…”

“B-but if I had moved or taken action then—”

“Willem…” she said gently, taking his hand. Something within her whispered the words she knew he needed to hear: “I forgive you.”

Another sob suddenly racked through his body. The deep, guttural cries were a strange sound of despair and relief. He reached for his neck, and a faint glow shimmered at his collar.

Her eyes rounded, “Willem—”

Tears continued to flow from where his eyes should have been. “I may not be deserving of such forgiveness… but I must accept the frightened boy I was. To accept…” he swallowed thickly, “that your brother saved me, and he did so because he loved me too.”

Katrina’s hand slid to where the outline of his cheek began to materialize. “Let’s both accept the grace he extended to us.”

A soft, tremulous breath escaped him. His shoulders sagged, and Katrina sensed he was finally allowing some forgiveness and acceptance to seep into his heart.

Light, as soft and warm as heaven, glowed brighter around his neck. Katrina’s grip on his hand tightened, and her mouth parted in surprise as the glow burst with white radiance. Katrina squinted against the brightness until the outline of a face slowly materialized into pale skin and sharp cheekbones. The luminous shimmer coalesced until a head and neck sat firmly upon his shoulders.

Dark hair tousled in gentle waves around his face, and his deep brown eyes widened with disbelief. His youthful features had hardened into sharp lines and a chiseled jaw. A small scar marked the right side of his lip. He no longer appeared as a sickly fourteen-year-old boy, but as a man weathered by years of loneliness.