Rodge,

It falls to us again. The Marshal’s woman, she’s giving up on arresting Freestone. Technicalities on technicalities keeping her boy safe. I shouldn’t even be surprised. She always found a way to never be wrong; of course she’d teach that to her new boy.

I apologize for…myself. For how I’ve been behaving. Briar still writes to me from wherever the Marshals took him, and he suggested that I try the same thing that’s been helping him recover: laudanum. I have no wish to turn myself into a poppy-addled fool, but careful doses before bed have quieted the specter of doom. I can see now how blind fear has hobbled me over the past few months, how it’s made me a burden on my friends and family. I told Charlie that I loved him. I showed Judith a night of affection that I’d denied her for far too long. I feel human again. Christian. Alive.

I could afford to do so, after all. Someone else was handling Freestone. Now that it once again falls to us, I refuse to make the same mistakes, not the same as earlier this year and not the same as 1853. I would like us to address this as friends and not accomplices after the fact.

The first mistake was to think that he was here to destroy me. Elle never wanted me dead, for whatever reason she claimed. Of course, that was before what happened on the summer solstice, but Ms. Walstead still comes by for dinner, even though we no longer plot together during the meal. She was very vocal about her assessment on Freestone’s lack of character the last time we talked, and even she thinks he has no desire to kill a human being. It’s bizarre to think that Elle would send someone so hesitant, but there are stranger things in the Word. Neither is he here to expose me. He knows that secret could ruin her as much as me. Once I put my fear in God’s hands and started thinking critically about what they’d want, God led me to the answer. It’s the body. The flesh. The corpse. Why else would he be tampering with graves? What else could she possibly want with this town? Heaven knows what they’re planning to do with it, but it has to be the key. I won’t let her have it. If she restores herself, then I’ve just ensured that someone will have to repeat my sin to stop her again.

I told you my potential plans when I decided to host dinner for the town for Christmas. With my new conclusions, I think those plans need to be actual, but I still need to avoid repeating mistakes. I want to hear your opinions, hear your criticism, hear you laugh at me for going through this damn foolishness. I told Judith everything - the dinner would put her at risk and I couldn’t do that without her even knowing why. I’ve heard her concerns, that she’s worried I’m going to die or get sent to an asylum and leave her to raise the kids alone, and I took steps to safeguard myself and telegraphed Cori to make sure my family’s taken care of if anything happens. The Word alone cannot guide me here. I need to hear the Holy Spirit through the mouth of those who love me. I don’t need you to hold the axe or taste the soup. I just need to know you’ll be okay with this.

Besides, we both know you have coin in this game of whist. I trust you to do right by your daughter.

Lam,

I’ve spent too damn long this year signing off on other people’s foolishness. Freestone’s, the Marshal’s, the Circus’s, that idiot from the corps who thinks he can scale the Rockies over winter, and yours. I’ve never felt this useless. Spent so much of my life hunting and kicking and shooting whatever God put in front of me, and now I’m stuck in this chair trying to play politics and losing. The town likes me, sure, but all I’ve done for them lately is decide who’s going to be sucking the blood out of their necks.

I’m glad you’re faring better, but you’re still missing part of the picture. Freestone doesn’t arrive until Birch leaves, and Briar’s brain doesn’t get cracked without this ‘Prince Remus’. I don’t know how much Birch was involved in the incident; I still don’t want to know the full details and don’t you dare tell me. But I know he’s involved now, and I know he’s got some backing. If ‘Prince Remus’ had the ear of the Union during the war, he has a lot of favors he can call in. The question is just whether it’s three or four involved right now. I never believed it when you said Elle was still alive after what you did to her; it’s cruel for anybody to survive that. But the Marshal had less doubts than I did. Maybe he sees better than I do.

I’d like to sign off on your foolishness, see if we can finally bring this to bed. Hell, I want to pitch in just so I feel like I’m doing something for once! But I have concerns about my daughter. Namely, neither of us have talked to her despite the fact that she knows a sight more about the lay of the land than either of us right now. In my mind, she’s still a hair older than twelve, sending me letters with dozens of questions that I’d read between the cavalry charges. But she’s been grown for a while now, and she’s gotten her head on straight for good measure. She knows enough about Freestone’s secretcraft that she fixed up a shattered foot all on her own. Of course, that’s the problem. She knows so much because she trusts him so much. You’re going to have a hard time convincing her of anything.

It’s still two weeks from the dinner. Let me test her waters before you lumber in like a moose. Until then, keep planning that feast. After the last few months, I think everybody could use something that nice.