Dust and Shadow: A Victorian Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Forgotten Lands Book 1) by Lindsey Pogue

Author:Lindsey Pogue [Pogue, Lindsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BOOK ONE
Published: 2017-09-14T22:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Clayton

“They have you. I’m sure they will never know any of it.” Josephine’s words haunted me all through church, as I sat in the pew next to her with little Izzy kicking her feet anxiously beside me, and they haunted me after as I walked Josephine to the carriage and watched Sanderson drive her and her family away. They haunted me each time I passed the saloon, debating going in.

I can’t erase the resolve and bitterness in her voice that still echoes in my mind. No, Izzy and Kitty will never know horrible things, but Josephine has, that much is clear, and that’s a sucker punch to the gut I hadn’t anticipated when I left for her farm yesterday, intent on seeing if I could patch things up. I had no idea what mess I was stepping into, but my father did.

The carriage rumbles beneath me, jostling the image of Josephine sitting next to me on the way to church in her gauzy gown, and her impossibly dark red hair that catches the sunlight. I want to know what happened to her mother and why Josephine is so angry.

Everything feels altered now, and for the first time, I don’t want to drink to blur it all away; I respect Josephine too much to dull my senses and hole myself away, hiding from a future I don’t want. Especially while she still stands tall, despite her animosity for what’s been laid at her feet.

And all of these years, I’ve known nothing about any of it.

I need to know what my father’s role in her scars was before I do something I might regret, because Josephine is right about one thing: I am so far removed from this place, I don’t fully comprehend any of it. I don’t even know what I will do as marshal. It’s careless. Pathetic. It’s selfish.

My father was right then too, it would seem. I have my sisters’ lives to think about, my mother’s when my father is gone. I have an entire town that will look to me, and in my twenty-one years, I’ve done nothing to prepare myself for it.

Long after the carriage jerks to a stop in the drive, I sit in silence, staring at an invisible Josephine and trying to reconcile the little girl with the sharp tongue from my childhood with the woman who tries and fails to hide the emotions in her eyes. The mortification. The disgrace. The hatred.

I hate myself for my ignorance, and my fist collides with the side of the carriage in disgust. I’m in a web of secrets and dark shadows from a past I can’t possibly change. “I didn’t know,” I whisper. But that’s my fault. Even the merchant in the market knew what had happened to Josephine, even if she didn’t outright say it. I saw it in her eyes, through her gift. “For your back.”

“Sir?” Sanderson says, peeking inside. “Are you all right, sir?”

Ignoring him, I step out of the carriage and into the cooling afternoon air.

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