Page 13 of Horsemen and Hot Chocolate

“It’s all right. The ground isn’t wet, and this is a particularly comfortable patch of leaves.”

The Horseman stiffly followed her lead. His hands settled over his knees, fidgeting before his gaze trailed to where she sat, comfortable and at ease in his presence. She didn’t flinch when she placed the book in his lap or scream when her fingers accidentally brushed against his. Instead, she gestured to the pages, her eyes gleaming with eagerness, and he wanted nothing more than to indulge her.

“This is the list of men who passed in the war,” she said, tapping one page. “And these two are the names I found linked to the Battle of White Plains. Do you recognize any of them?”

The Horseman blinked at the names.

“Oh, I suppose I should ask if you read,” she said, her voice lowering. “If you cannot, that is perfectly fine—”

“I can,” he answered, though he couldn’t explain to her how, even if he wanted to. She stared at him owlishly as he discerned her handwriting. Her penmanship flowed like butterflies fluttering in the sky, ebbing and flowing against the delicate breeze. The lowercase letters curled daintily, reminding him of Smudge’s crook in his tail.

Unfortunately, no spark of emotion or flashing images flared in the Horseman’s memory.

“I do not recognize any of these names,” he said with a frown.

“That’s all right,” she said, keeping her tone light. However, her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and he feared his failure disappointed her. Would she return if his memory continued to elude him?

“I’ll keep searching then. Perhaps you’re not from Sleepy Hollow after all,” she continued.

“Perhaps,” he murmured.

“Or maybe you’re much older than I thought,” she said with a finger tapping her lips. “It would make more sense if you were born here since you feel the need to protect it. I’ll search the records, and we can go through the names together.”

He frowned, his chest tightening. “If I’m not a soldier from the war, how could I help you if I don’t know the way to White Plains?”

And perhaps he would never see her again if he could not provide what she needed.

Katrina retrieved her journal and gently closed it. “We won’t know if you will know the way once you regain your memories. Besides, I could always find a map.”

“I could take you there tonight if you wished,” he said.

Her blonde curls swayed from side to side as she shook her head. “I made a promise and intend to keep it,” she said. “I want to help you regain your memories, not because I owe you, but… I wish to help you.”

Heat sparked within him like a hearth, growing steadier in the night. All the years of shadows, isolation, and desolation paled compared to this glimmer of light shining on his soul.

He never understood why he’d been drawn to Katrina, but now he knew how precious the light and kindness in her spirit were. However, he selfishly wished for more. Years without speaking to another soul left an aching void in his heart—a desire to feel whole again.

Katrina stood, brushing a leaf from her cloak, and he followed suit, rising to his feet.

“I suppose I should return, then,” she said. “I’ll need to rise early to do more research. I will return to this same place when I find answers. In the meantime, good evening, Horseman.”

Katrina dipped into a slight curtsey, and Smudge chattered a farewell. As she turned, nagging pressure built inside him until he could no longer contain it.

“Wait,” he called out.

Katrina’s skirts whirled as she faced him. “Yes?” she asked, her blue eyes blinking against the moonlight.

“May I see you again tomorrow? And…” He swallowed, his stomach flipping with nerves. “Every night?”

Her eyes grew wide. “Every night?” she echoed back. The uncertainty in the dip of her voice sent a ripple of panic through him.

“I only meant to say that I find your company most… agreeable,” he said timidly, dimming the light in his pumpkin. The glow flickered against her shocked expression. “I have spent many years in solitude and can meet you at any hour.”

Her rosy lips parted. “I had the impression you only wander at night?”

“It is the safest time to roam, yes. I sleep during the day.”

“Do you find my company enjoyable enough to sacrifice your sleep for me?” She laughed.