Page 113 of The Witch

Maybe it’s true. Maybe it really was the gunshot that pulled Gram from her sleep. Or maybe it was the voice of her dead sister whispering in her ear, begging her to save her only grandchild.

“Thank you, Gram,” I whisper.

Gram reaches out and squeezes my knee. I can’t bring myself to tell her that she wasn’t the one I was talking to.

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1692

CAROLINE

Jonas is a good digger.

Somehow I knew he would be. After all, he managed to dig up stone from the floor of the jailhouse, using nothing but his metal boot buckle. I am helping to dig as well, but he is the one lifting large mounds of dirt out of the ground and throwing them over his shoulder.

Thankfully, we only need to dig one hole in our backyard. There is space inside for both Molly and Archie.

After only a short time, we have a hole deep enough to fit both bodies. Jonas has brought a lantern outside with him, and we can see by its light that there is ample room. They are both still upstairs in the bedroom, and we will have to get them. The thought is more than unsettling, and as I stare into the blackness of the hole that will soon serve as my husband’s unmarked grave, I suddenly feel faint.

“Caroline?” Jonas’s brow crinkles. It is still bruised from the beating he received from Strickland’s baton. “What troubles you?”

I fall to my knees, my hands bracing myself against the dirt. My head spins, and I close my eyes, trying to keep my wits about me. I can do this. I must do this.

It is the only way.

“Caroline?” Jonas is crouching beside me now, next to the open grave. “You do not have to help if you cannot. I can do the rest on my own.”

I swallow a hard lump in my throat. “You need my help to carry them downstairs.”

“I do not.”

I open my eyes to look into Jonas’s face. When I first came to the jailhouse, I found his charcoal-colored eyes and wild hair and unkempt beard terrifying. But now I see only kindness and concern. This is a good man.

“Jonas?”

“Yes?”

“You mentioned,” I say quietly, “that after leaving Woodhaven, Molly and Archie would be wed. Did you not?”

For a fleeting instant, Jonas’s skin takes on a pinkish hue. I have never seen him blush that way before, and it makes me feel better. From the moment I first laid eyes upon him, he possessed such great assurance, yet this question has made him seem suddenly shy.

“I did,” he says slowly. “I told Hitty before her death that I would do what I could to make sure you were taken care of. I intend to keep that promise.”

“And what if I do not want you to keep that promise? What if I wish to go off on my own?”

“Caroline,” he says softly.

The words are similar to our discussion in the woods, but everything is different now. When I asked Jonas to go away before, it was because I believed him to be a killer. And while yes, he did kill a man—two men—it was something he had to do.

He would never harm me. He saved me. He distracted Strickland and took a beating on my behalf. He rescued me from the jailhouse when death was a certainty. And he shot Archie seconds before he was to take my life.

“Caroline,” he says again. “I cannot compel you to do anything you do not want to do. But if you allow me to, I will give you a good life. I…” His troubled eyes set upon me. “I would very much like to give you a good life.”

“I see…”

He takes my hand. Even though it is very cold tonight, his is warm and large enough to envelop mine completely.

“Will you allow me to do this, Caroline?” he asks me.