The children needed help of some kind, but Finn felt at a complete loss as to how to begin. Maybe Dr. Sherman would have some insight. He was a healer of the body, perhaps there was some good he could do for their little injured souls.
"I'd better go prepare lunch," Jessie said after a while. She shook her head sadly as she looked across her charges, but Mrs. Sherman and Victoria approached hand in hand, both smiling.
"Can I go home with Mrs. Sherman?" Victoria asked Jessie, causing the young woman too look at the elder in question.
"She's such a lovely child, I thought she might like to come visit my house to see if she'd like to live there," Mrs. Sherman put in.
Jessie beamed. "That sounds like an excellent plan. Victoria, if you like it and want to stay there, let me know what you need from here and I will make sure you get it."
"I'm taking my doll now." Victoria stated as if it's the only thing she could possibly need. With Mrs. Sherman's generous nature, that might be correct.
"That's a good idea. She'll help you decide if it's a good place for the two of you to live." Jessie patted the girl's dark hair. "Come back and see us whenever you want. We'll miss you!"
The little girl didn't know what to say. She couldn't exactly honestly return the sentiment, and so she said, "Thank you for taking care of me," causing Jessie to feel a bittersweet sense of regret.
She wanted each child to be happy, and she knew the best possible place for that was in a home with a family. A loving mother and father provided more stability and support than she could with her aging aunt and uncle. Although she knew all placements there were meant to be temporary, it was with mixed feelings each time that she said goodbye to a child.
Finn, Victoria, and Mrs. Sherman walked home together. Victoria was clutching her doll in a mix of excitement and trepidation about the prospect of a new home. Thankfully, Mayra had laid out some delicious treats and enthusiastically welcomed the little girl, putting her at ease.
Dr. Sherman had gotten back from some patient visits and also greeted the child warmly. Finn ached to watch the new little family bond as she missed her own. Where were they? Were they all right?
Her heart lurched as she thought of Gabriel winding up like the joyless boys in the orphanage. She was sure whatever happened to them was connected to the army that kidnapped her village. Dwelling on it did no good, and she searched for something to distract herself with while she let Victoria settle in.
She remembered the letters she'd hidden in her room, one more from Riley, and several from Roland. She excused herself to get some afternoon rest and retreated there. She selected one of Roland's and opened the seal.
"Dearest Serafina,
We continue our search for your village's people. I do not pretend to know what has happened, but the feeling of trepidation in my heart grows. This bold attack and abduction from an organized army leaves little doubt in my heart that a battle is coming. As I prepare for the potential war looming before my country, I also war within myself.
The violence of my affection for you wars with my better sense and cautious nature. I yearn to tell you everything I feel and fight it back in terror of both the strength of my feelings and the prospect of your outright rejection of this crazy man. Crazy, for I feel driven out of my mind by how often you invade my thoughts. Perhaps mercifully you might reject me now and let me grieve it during my year in military exile. I would, then, hope to come back to my former sense and lead the life I had chosen for myself.
The light wanes, and with it my hope for keeping this letter lighthearted and intriguing. Perhaps I might find it in my next one to remain detached and pleasant rather than grave. I hope, as always, that you will excuse any offense I have given when I become too honest. I remain,
Yours,
Roland"
The words of the letter resurrected the feelings his kiss had wrought in her heart. Battle seemed an apt metaphor for the raging emotions inside her. She put the letter down and tried to calm herself. Beside it she saw Riley's letter.
For some reason it made her feel guilty that she had read one of Roland's before reading his second. She had known Riley so much longer and cared for him, and hadn't seen him as recently as she had Roland. He really deserved more of her thoughts than she was giving him.
Picking the letter up, she broke the seal and read it.
"Dear Finn,
Tonight I hope you are doing well. I miss your smile this evening, and the easy blush that often paints your cheeks. I am further settling in to my life as a soldier. It is strange to be around only men; my whole life I have had you, or Mother, or Mayra to speak to at the beginning and end of each day. It makes me appreciate the softness of your kind approach to life, and the contrasts of your nature.
The soldiers with me have primarily one, you see, that I have discerned so far. Remain tough, get the job done. Perhaps that will change as I know them better; I have known you our whole lives and the facets of your person continue to surprise and fascinate me.
The way you, without hesitation, run straight towards danger is a trait I admire so richly in you, despite how you terrify me with it. And yet, you so consistently run from your own feelings. I cannot fathom the difference, and yet I contemplate it often.
Are your emotions so much more daunting than a raging fire? More difficult to face than a pack of vicious wolves? How deeply you must feel, for that to be the case. I can only hope that when you come to conquer and decipher those emotions, I am somewhere within them. I yearn for the day when we can be reunited and I can see your face again.
With all my love,
Riley."
Finn stared at Riley's letter. It hit her much harder than she expected. Roland had some intuitive understanding of her nature, but Riley directly identified something that had entirely escaped her notice: somehow her own emotions were more terrifying to her than the real-life dangers she faced. It was an upside-down view of the world around her that was as shocking as it was baffling.
Why should she be so afraid? Tears welled in her eyes as she opened a door in her heart to inspect what was inside for the first time in far too long. Pushing everything away or trudging onward without overcoming had built up a huge amount of pressure within her that demanded release. Why was she doing this to herself, and how long had she been this way?
A warning flash in her mind warned her not to explore this, to ignore it, to cope as she always had by pretending everything was fine. She grimaced, and with effort, pushed past the rising wave of panic to think, in a raw and truthful way, about why these feelings must scare her so much. Her vision blurred and a torrent poured down her face from her eyes. She didn't even know, really, why she was crying, only that she needed to.
Laying down onto her pillow, she wept and sobbed for an interminable amount of time before her mind began to clear and thoughts found their place once more. Was it from her mother that this came? From the moment of her mother's death, there was no more childhood for Finn. She had held her precious baby brother and became the only mother he would know.
There was no mourning, no time for reflection or coping when a newborn needed to be fed hourly. There was no rest or sleep or rejuvenation. Father did what he could, but he also had to run the farm and keep them fed. Everything else fell on Finn. There was no room for emotion when there were more pressing needs.
Giving in to the emotion might mean Gabe would starve. If she had let the grief take over, she might have missed a feeding or slept through his cries or missed signs of a fever in him. Strong emotion was the enemy of survival, wasn't it?
The tears returned to Finn's eyes as she recognized the lies she'd silently told herself for six long years. Her heart felt like it would explode from the pent-up grief she'd ignored, and she poured it out into her pillow until she fell asleep.