<br/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/e/e4/Natehunter.png/437px-Natehunter.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Nathan Hunter<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Senior Deputy (Law Dogs)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 2nd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The road to Vigilance Ranch<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Margeurite, Closed<br/><hr/>His jaw was set, hardened.<strong>“Then I owe you an apology,”</strong>he said.<em>More than one.</em><strong>“I... believed that he'd lost his wife, and I helped him, spoke to the Judge on his behalf.”</strong>He frowned, grateful for once that the Judge was a wiser man than he.  “He's insisted on proper documentation, and... for some reason, Alfred Eklain's not dared venture to Sacremento to retrieve it.”  He glanced back as she mentioend he might not have wanted her to fall.  While it might not be murder, it might as well have been an attempt, and somehow the distinction between trying to kill her and simply letting her die of exposure in the wilderness didn't arouse much sympathies.<strong>”Ma'am.  If he threw you off the side himself, or he simply let you fall – he's been parading around town taking advantage of your relationship.  He should have been scouring every inch of that track looking for you.”</strong>He opened his mouth, ready to say 'I would have.' but letting it pass.<br/><br/>He shook his head.<strong>“It was... I knew she was ill when we wed.  I... I thought we'd have more time,”</strong>he admitted.<strong>“I brought her out to Colorado... I'd heard good things about the air, but...”</strong>He shook his head.  She'd died days after they'd gotten off the train, and she'd been far from her friends, her family.  His selfishness still tore at him.  He'd picked up after that, unable to return to New York, to the promising practice, to his father's law firm.  He couldn't bear the thought of her family's accusing eyes.  For a moment he wandered, lost in thought, and then realized the touch on his hand, heard her declare how much she missed him.<strong> “I'm sorry you... lost one another,” </strong>he said, his voice soft.<br/><br/><strong>“I do miss her,”</strong>he agreed.<strong> “I... I owe you an apology,”</strong>he said softly.<strong>“Another.  For the camp.  For my behav...”</strong>He broke off, and swallowed, electing to call it what it was was.<strong>“For raping you.  You were being... generous. Careful.  And I... took advantage.  Took what wasn't offered.  It was... unforgivable.”</strong>His voice was heavy-laden with guilt.  His head had turned, slightly, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her.