“I’m sorry.” Rider suddenly said.
“Why?” I asked, my eyebrows drawn down.
“This,” he said, pointing at the cabin. “It’s a mess. Run down . . . less than you deserve.”
I met his eyes and shook my head. “No. It is ours. It will become our home. Looks do not matter, remember?” Rider searched my face doubtfully, then a smirk blossomed on his face.
We entered the cabin. It was small and in need of cleaning. But there was a large bed, and a couch. To me, it was a palace.
Ruth dressed the bed, and Rider moved slowly to it. He sat on the side of the bed, while I crouched down and untied his boots. Rider watched my every move.
I love you, I read on his face.
I love you too, I said with mine.
A throat cleared behind us. “We shall leave you alone to settle in,” Stephen said, casting his disappointed eyes around the shabby room.
“Thank you,” I said.
Solomon, Samson and Stephen left the cabin. Ruth came awkwardly to the bed as Rider lay down. He was tired; I could see his eyelids dragging down.
“Do you need me to stay and help you clean?” Ruth asked.
I shook my head. “No, I can do it. This place is not so big.”
Ruth nodded, then nervously approached her son. I moved out of the way, busying myself with the cleaning supplies Ruth had brought us. But I could not help but watch the tentative new relationship between mother and son with a lump in my throat. Rider watched his mother as she rounded the bed to stand by his side.
Ruth ran her hand along the edge of the bed. “Will you be okay here?”
“Yes,” Rider said in his low, fractured voice.
Ruth nodded. “Maybe I could come out to see you most days? If . . . if that is something you would want. It is okay if you do not, but—”
“Yes,” Rider cut in. “I”—he cleared his throat—“I would love that . . . to see you.”
The blinding smile that bloomed on Ruth’s face could light the darkest of skies. “Okay,” she breathed, “then I shall look forward to it.”
Ruth stood awkwardly, and carefully leaned forward to drop a sweet kiss to Rider’s forehead. Rider’s eyes closed at the touch.
My heart soared.
Ruth said goodbye and left the cabin, smiling at me as she passed. I glanced to the bed. Rider’s eyes were already on mine. I crossed the room and wrapped my hand around his. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss Rider’s soft lips. I ran my hand over his hair. “Sleep, baby,” I whispered. “Sleep.”
Rider’s eyes drifted shut, and in minutes, his breath evened out.
While he slept, I cleaned the cabin, finishing just as dusk began to bring its early curtain of darkness. Needing to get some fresh air, I stepped out into the humid night.
I sat down on a log that sat amid the wildly overgrown grass . . . and I breathed. I breathed and breathed, and allowed myself, for the first time, to let our new reality sink in.
We were free. We were out of the commune, away from the Hangmen . . . and we were free.
I felt tears flood down my cheeks. And I allowed myself to cry. I cried and I cried for the all of the lost lives, the burdens and the pain. I cried out everything I had kept locked inside for years, sending it all into the twilight sky. Minutes and minutes passed until all my tears had been shed. In its place was a welcomed numbness.
The spark of a new beginning.
I stared at the old wooden cabin. Hope sprouted in my chest. It was ours. We had a home of our own. I took in a deep breath as I thought about our future. I had no idea what it would hold. For the first time since we had arrived here, I wondered how I would live in this outside world.
Brother Stephen had explained so much to me in Puerto Rico that I found myself feeling a strange mixture of recognition and uncertainty when I was faced with new buildings, people and things. Devices that were shunned by our people. Even clothes that some people wore confused me.
But I did not let it scare me. If I had survived this far, I was determined to take on this new world’s way of life with my eyes wide open. I would no longer be held back.
I tipped my head back and smiled when I saw the stars begin to shine. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Lights came slowly toward the cabin.
I tensed, wondering who it could be. The vehicle stopped, and my sisters got out.
All three.
Lil’ Ash sat in the driver’s seat. He threw me a small, shy wave. I waved back. Too tired to rise from the log, I smiled as my sisters came toward me, dishes in their hands. Lilah was the first to speak. “We have brought you food. For your new home.”