Forty One
Robert made his way to mine entrance and leaned against the outside wall.
Amalia found him and forced him to accept a hot drink.
“How did it go?”
“Badly. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You warned me.”
“I’m sure whatever she said, she didn’t mean it.”
"No, she meant it. I knew there was danger in the area, and I let her down."
"I'm pretty sure she has no idea you knew of any mavericks in the area. I doubt it's even entered her head that anyone is responsible for what happened, except for her."
Robert’s eyebrows flickered in disagreement. "I know of a farm, a couple days' ride away. It's owned by a widow named Rebecca McCrary. She has gardens in warm weather and keeps a greenhouse in winter. She raises rabbits, chickens and goats, and we’ve sent women to her before to get over these sorts of things. She passes no judgments and asks no questions. I think we should send Diana there for a little while. This place is killing her."
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4 comments:
Set up for the next trial?
Sort of. The farm will prove to be a healing place in many ways, but the isolation will make her psychologically vulnerable and prone, once again, to bad decision-making. Don't worry, though. The time is coming when she'll get fed up with always being manipulated and told what to do.
But first, there's a lot of fallout to deal with from that night in the woods. It's not over by a long shot. It'll haunt her through much of the next blog, Diana's Diary, but we're getting ahead of ourselves now. :)
That picture is of a real defunct mine in New Mexico, btw. It's located in a ghost town near Raton.
I actually don't mind so much when she's told what to do so much as when she totally discounts other's feelings. She's been too sure of herself until now. I hate to say something good might come of the experience, but if so, learning to pay more attention to others would be it.
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