As tired eyes looked into tired eyes, he held me off. I looked around, wondering if anyone had seen us. I do know for a fact that The People are reserved about overt displays of affection, the exception obviously being that amorous couple of a few weeks back who, to their credit, had no idea I watched them. This time I noticed smiles on several women’s faces and felt gratitude that we two had given them something to smile about.

To work. Hawk turned to one of the women and engaged her in quiet conversation. He came back to me holding half a tin cup. “Here you are, Bright Star, start digging.”

I took the cup, shaking my head, well aware that half a tin cup was no earth-moving equipment with which to attack a mountain of dirt. Maybe I was finally catching on, because I moved toward the cutbank without any questions. Hawk borrowed some red paint from someone and applied it to his face, his whole face, and not just the Blue Mountain Woman side.

I stopped digging. “You’re not going back up to that rifle pit, are you?” I felt my lips getting stiff.

“Yes,” he said, sounding faintly surprised. “You didn’t think I would stay here, did you?” He was putting red paint around his mouth and his words came out muffled.

I threw my arms around him, not caring who smiled. I touched his chest for good luck, then returned to my task. I didn’t want to see him leave. Dig, Elizabeth, dig, I told myself. Work hard, Bright Star. Save The People. Hurry to the rifle pit, Hawk. It is dark and the night will save you.

Then the worst thing happened, worse than everything that had happened since Methuselah reared back and sent me on an adventure I did not want until it became the crowning event of my life.

To my real gratitude, the firing stopped from the soldier pits and breastworks. I sat back, relieved too soon, as I heard most distinctly, “Fire!” followed by an ear-splitting whump. The sky exploded with light and rained down shards of hot metal on the camps of The People. The women at the breastworks screamed and grabbed for their children, pushing them deeper into the side of the cutbank.

There was another whump, which lit the night sky with exploding stars, beautiful to see, deadly as they fell. Silence, everyone tensed around me, waiting for, dreading a third and louder roar as another cannon belched fire.

This one was different. The barrel must have been pointed more toward the sky at a steeper angle. Again, the shell exploded, this time much closer to one of the rifle pits. Silence. I heard the crank of metal as artillerists elevated the tube. When it fired again, the shell exploded directly over a rifle pit. I covered my ears as men screamed when hot metal rained down.