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Jasper

It’s a cold, cruel world.

Be a safe place for the people you love;

they need one as much as you do.

Two weeks and two days after leaving Bristlebrook

The distant sounds of bullets and battle echo through the rolling hills. They’re too far away, too lost and layered to make out defining details—who might be winning or losing, or who might be hurt. The Sinners have finally tested their first attack.

The sun faded several hours ago, and I’m sitting in front of the fire, on one of the heavy logs we pulled over a few days ago to help make our camp more comfortable.

A handful of the civilians who weren’t called in for this fight are milling around, giving me and Eden tight smiles when they catch our eye, looking too edgy to settle in and rest the way they should.

This fight won’t be the last.

We’ll have our turn soon enough.

“I have my tent set up with blankets, water buckets, towels, and the extra medical supplies,” Eden tells me as she paces around the fire.

Her hair is back in a tight, exacting bun—the way she always styles it when she’s feeling anxious.

“Emerson has two pots of food ready to go as soon as they come back. I’m sure they’ll be hungry.

We have fresh water as well. Do you think that there’s any benefit to?—”

“Come here, sweet girl,” I order her softly, and Eden stops.

She turns to me, and the firelight flickers over her face. Her fingers knot in front of her, but she doesn’t hesitate as she walks over to me, and I part my legs to make room for her.

As she sinks into an easy, graceful kneel, she lets out a sweet little sigh. I touch her hair, directing her gently until she rests her warm cheek on my thigh, and I begin unwinding her rigid bun. Her hair is long and heavy, and as I ease it out of its confines, it spills over my hands like satin.

Her breathing grows steadier as I soothe her, and my chest constricts.

She’s been so angry. So sad and hurt and betrayed.

I would give my world to take it away, but it’s outside my power.

All I can do is sit with her and help her find her way through it.

Here at my feet, I can carve out one safe place for her.

One place where she’s held and cared for and nothing bad can touch her.

A fierce patter of gunfire echoes through the night, and I slowly stroke her hair.

She’s frightened for them.

“You know, for years I was forced to watch them leave,” I murmur.

The fire crackles, burning off the scent of cloying flowers.

“I would hear about their operations, and I would be briefed. I’d wait, in my office, for word on how it had gone.

If anyone was hurt. Who I needed to speak to.

And occasionally, if there were any I’d never speak to again. ”

Eden draws in a long, deep breath, but I don’t stop my quiet pace, the silky twists and turns of her hair through my fingers calming us both. I draw in warmth from the perfect heat of her cheek on my thigh.

Through the hills, the battle rages.

“It was an incredibly lonely fear,” I confess, in this private place of ours.

“The wait felt so many hours, weeks, and months longer than it ever was. I might have been their psychologist, but I came to know those Rangers well—all their fears and hopes, their kindnesses and their bravery. I cared for them, and some nights I would sit awake and simply wait on their return... because someone had to know. Someone had to care. And for some of them, very few others would.”

Gently, I ease Eden to turn, until she faces me, and I can see those luminous, intelligent eyes. They pick me apart and pull me back together in moments.

Someone screams in pain, and her throat grows taut until the scream cuts off.

I lift a rogue strand of hair from her face, easing it from where it caught by her mouth, and I tuck it back over her ear.

“It isn’t easy to be the vigil holder. It isn’t easy to wait, no matter how much faith in them you have.

It takes a special kind of strength.” My thumb brushes over her lips, and she kisses it softly, her skin warmed by the firelight.

“You’re a brave woman, Eden. I hope you know how strong you are, in all the ways that have nothing to do with how hard you can hit.

It’s only because of you that this was possible. ”

The sounds of battle finally dim and stop, and I cup Eden’s cheek, my heart aching at how she melts into my touch. My precious, beautiful, fierce Eden.

“It’s because of you that we’ll win.”