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They call them trinity (chapter 12)

The crowd parts and makes a pathway for the 'newly engaged' couple, and even the policemen are clapping their hands.
"Holy fucking trinity! They made it." Tyler cries out, and somehow it gets picked up, because someone starts chanting "Trinity! Trinity!" as if it were the name of the act.
Mamrie takes the chance - because why not? - and grabs Hannah's hat. "Thank you! Thank you, I hope you enjoyed the show!" she shouts, and invites the patrons to toss some coins in.
Hannah and Grace run around the saloon, and they are barely inside the stable before Grace is tugging Hannah's arm and kissing her against the wall. Her heart's pulsing in her throat, in a mixture of fear and adrenaline and want. This is it. This is the high she always comes down from. This is the moment she lives for - she dodged death once more.
"We made it" she whispers against Hannah's lips between kisses. The girl nods, slightly overwhelmed, and replies: "We made it."
Grace rests her hands on Hannah's neck, careful not to ruin Hans' sideburns, and kisses her again, and it tastes like victory and raw survival.
"You need to go" Hannah says as she finds the strength to pull away for a second.
"I need to go" Grace replies breathlessly, but doesn't move an inch. If anything, she's pushing in a bit further, and her thigh presses between Hannah's legs.
"You have to... Gr-" Rough kisses keep interrupting Hannah's objections, and she really wouldn't mind all the interruptions if they weren't being chased by the police. Grace's lips eventually slow down, and when she rests her forehead against Hannah's, they're both surprised by a wave of nostalgia.
They let the silence sink in.
"I have to go" Grace says quietly.
Hannah nods once more, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Grace's ear.
"Ask me, Grace" she whispers.
"You can't" she sighs "I'm going to Mexico, and your sister's getting married."
"Please" she insists, "I can't if you don't ask me."
Even in the dark, Grace knows how those blue eyes look - hopeful and imploring and painfully loving. She brings a hand up to play with the short hair on the girl'snape, thinking how pleasant it feels to let her digits be tickledlike this.
So she does. She asks.
"Come with me, Han."
Thegirl'shands clasp onto the fabric hugging her waist, reminding Grace she's still wearing a velvet dress. Hannah kisses her softly, and just as softly says: "Anywhere."
Grace chuckles and shakes her head, "You little charmer."
"Let's go, babe!" Hannah smiles and slides between Grace and the wall, ready to saddle Cheddar up.
"Wait."
"Mh?"
"I'll go first. I need to get out of town fast. There's a mission in Santa Clara - I'll be there by morning and I'll wait two days for you. I'll leave again after sunset."
Hannah thinks about it, reluctant to let her go alone, but decides it's probably the most reasonable option.
"Say goodbye to your sister for me. Tell her we should be best pals in our next life" Grace adds, releasing Ty's reins from the fence. "And... it's ok if you change your mind. I get it."
Hannah presses one more kiss on her lips, shaking her head.
"Be safe, Legs" she says, "I'll be there."
Grace saddles up goofily, her movements made harder by her dress. Hannah strokes Ty's muzzle, saying bye girl before the horse and her owner quietly disappear in the night.
- - -
"Did you spend the night in the caravan?" Mamrie asks, pointlessly, as she finds her sister sleeping in the stable.
"Mmmmmh" Hannah mumbles, her covers scattered along with the fake beard that fell from her face.
"C'mon, sis. We have an important appointment this morning, get ready" the redhead pulls the covers back and walks away, leaving Hannah groaning.
Her face is being touched by something wet and cold, and it takes her a few minutes to realise it's the puppy that's been following Beanz around. The dog's been sleeping in the caravan for the past week and Hannah stole her spot.
"If you weren't so cute..." she mumbles while petting the dog. "Gotta give you a name huh? I'm afraid Beanz adopted you."
Hannah makes sure she gives a fair bit of attention to Beanz too before making her way upstairs to wash her face and get back in her own clothes. She walks past what had been Grace's room for the past two weeks, and stops for a second.
"I'm coming" she tells herself.
- - -
"And you're absolutely sure this is an option?" Hannah asks, incredulous.
"Of course!" The man sitting in front of her is smoking a chunky cigar and drinking a whiskey, despite the fact it's still morning. He's bulky and loud, and his sideburns seem made of charcoal and wire. "We have all the right connections to get it done. Easy."
He looks knowingly towards the man in uniform sitting on his right. Judging by his stars, he must be at least a Major General. He nods, gravely, and adds: "as long as the federal army has its part in this deal."
"Okay..." Hannah nods, frowning, "Mames, are you sure this is fine for you? We're both going to lose some money if we take this decision."
"We're still getting a good deal, thanks to Mr. Borg..." she says, and he can't hide his pride at the redhead's words "and I really want you to come to my wedding, sis."
"Then it's settled!" The man with the cigar hits the table with his fists, making the drink shake in his glass. "We can leave as soon as you're ready. Let's say... 1pm? After lunch?"
"Sure" Hannah stands up, still shocked by the news, and shakes the hands of both men.
"I'll get a private agreement drafted by my solicitor, for your peace of mind" the man says finishing his drink. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet a certain Sivan Jr."
After both men leave, Mamrie scoots closer to her sister and adds excitedly: "Also, there's something I have to show you."
She pulls the hat Hannah was wearing the night before, holding it with two hands because the weight of the coins it contains may rip it.
"Mames! This is more than I make in a week... how did this happen?"
The redhead shrugs, smiling, "Apparently they liked the show."
- - -
Grace's laying on a small bed in one of the mission's rooms, her feet peeking out off the edge. She is playing with a small razor, studying the delicate pattern engraved in the ivory handle. She changed into more comfortable clothes, and took a mental note to buy some of the correct size, because all she has are those oversized trousers and the shirt Hannah got her. The midday sun is creeping through the cracks in the wooden shutters, drawing thick, sharp lines on the perfectly white wall.
The room's warm and dry - clean. Christ is looking down at her from its wooden cross, nailed above the doorframe. A delicate knock startles her, and she has to remind herself she doesn't need to put her hand on her gun.
"Come in" she says.
A young woman enters the room. She is undoubtedly a novice nun, judging from her light habit.
"I brought you some food, ma'am" She says, her voice barely audible.
Grace pulls her feet down from the bed frame and sits "Thank you, sister"
"Oh no, thank you, miss" the young woman replies "for helping us with the plow... you're very strong!"
Grace smiles quietly and takes a bite of the bread the nun brought.
"Will you be staying with us?"
She nearly chokes, but manages to hide it.
"No... no, sister. I just need shelter for a coupe of days. But if you need anything else, I'll be happy to help. Actually, I'm getting a bit bored..."
"Well, after lunch we'll read some prayers, you're welcome to join us."
"Mh" Grace mumbles with a full mouth, "I was thinking something more... physical. Do you have a well? I can refill some barrels, or feed your cattle..."
"Oh, you should't miss... you've been riding all night, you should rest." And with the most innocent smile, the woman leaves the room.
"Jesus Christ" she mutters under her breath once she is alone "tomorrow can't come early enough"
- - -
Grace measures the room with wide leaps, and when she reaches the wall, she turns and walks back, restless. She barely spent the morning at the mission and she's already eager to go for a ride. From the space between the blinds she can see Ty resting in the shade, wondering if she misses Cheddar the same way she's missing Hannah.
She can't take her eyes off the road, despite knowing that at Cheddar's pace, the girl will most likely arrive tomorrow. If at all.
She should try to sleep.
- - -
She's awaken by a familiar neigh coming from the road, and it's not Ty. Grace jumps off her bed and runs to the window. It's still light outside, the sun lowering on the horizon. The mission's surrounded by a 6 feet wall and the horse she heard must be just outside of it, because she can't see it.
She's tempted to leave the room to run downstairs and open the gate herself, but she think better of it. She's incredibly excited at the thought that she could see Hannah so early, but at the same time she's suspicious of the fact that it's too early. It's probably someone else.
But then she sees a nun opening the gate and Hannah coming in, explaining with ample gestures who she's looking for. Grace is happy to notice that the girl's wearing her usual clothes and realises she much prefers those to Hans' look. The nun points towards the gate, asking something, and Hannah shakes her head. They both disappear from Grace's vision as they approach the building.
She quickly walks up to the small mirror hanging on the wall, and notices she still has some makeup on her face, despite her scar being perfectly visible now. She licks the tip of a finger and removes most of the smudged eyeliner, cursing herself because she had the whole day to do it.
There's a knock.
"Miss?" Grace recognises the voice of the novice nun who brought her lunch "You have a visitor."
"Sure, mh" Grace clears her throat "come in."
The door opens, and Hannah's let in by a smiley nun.
"Thank you, sister" Hannah says, barely looking at her. Her eyes are locked on Grace, and it may take a split second or ten minutes for the nun to leave them, she'll never know.
"Han" Grace stutters, smiling "You're early."
"Should I come back later?" she jokes.
"Come here, you idiot" Grace chuckles and pulls Hannah closer, running her thumb over her upper lip "I'm glad you removed the moustache" she says before pressing a long kiss on the girl's lips.
Hannah wraps her arms around Grace's waist, pressing their bodies together, incredulous that they've only been apart for less than a day. Their kisses quickly heat up, but Hannah pulls away under Grace's disapproving gaze.
"Grace, there's something I have to tell you."
The tall woman frowns, and instinctively looks outside the window. She sees four soldiers marching in the courtyard, followed by a few more people.
"What have you done, Han?" Grace asks, her voice shaking, hurt.
"Don't worry, it's all good."
But Grace has already pulled her gun out and is standing against the door, ready to open fire as soon as the sound of footsteps comes close enough.
"Grace, no!" Hannah cries out as she tries to stop her "Please! Please trust me."
Grace looks at Hannah's hand on her own, pushing the gun down, and then their eyes meet, blue staring into desperate brown.
Someone knocks.
"Please, Grace. I promise you're safe."
Her arm gives up any resistance, and she slips her gun back in the sleeve.
"Sorry ladies, we don't have all day" A male voice filters through the door, "We need to get this over with."
Hannah opens the door and says "Sure, Mr. Wilson. Please do come in."
The man with the black sideburns enters, followed by the Major General and four of his soldiers. Behind them are Mamrie and Mr Borg.
"It's getting a bit crowded in here" Grace comments, confused "What's going on?"
The Major General clears his throat, and solemnly says "We're here to award Miss. Grace Helbig with the Certificate of Merit Medal for her distinguished bravery, and outstanding efforts in protecting our country and preserving the nation's safety. Private, put on record that all charges towards Miss. Helbig are hereby dropped and she's now a free woman of the United States of America."
He appoints a round bronze medal to her chest, salutes, and turns on his heels under Grace's astonished gaze.
Once the soldiers have left the room, Grace stutters: "Guys... what just happened?"
Wilson pats her on the back, holding an unlit cigar between his teeth, "you, my lady, have just had your name cleaned and shined in the name of progress. We're making history today."
"Mh, this gentleman is Mr. Wilson, Grace" Hannah explains "he is our buyer, and future president of the Sacramento Valley Railroad."
"Well, we'll see about that!" he comments "General Sherman was very interested in the position... I'd be happy to be just an investor. But you, young lady" he adds squeezing Grace's shoulder "you fought for the preservation of the formula, putting your life on the line to hide it from a dangerous gang of bandits, hence saving the whole nation from a very dark period of terrible robberies!"
Grace listens in silence, quirking an eyebrow at Hannah.
"Mr. Wilson, would you mind giving us a moment?"
"Sure thing, sweetie!" He thunders, "it's been a pleasure doing business with you all! Now, if you'll allow me, I need to find an accommodation for tonight."
He leaves the room, and they can hear him chatting to a nun, asking for the best saloon in town.
"So, did you get what happened?" Mamrie asks a puzzled looking Grace.
"I think I may, but feel free to recap" she replies as she studies the medal pinned on her shirt.
"Okay, grab you shit, Legs! I'll explain on the way. I don't think you two can do your unholy business in this mission."
- - -
"It's simple, really" the redhead explains after they thanked the nuns and said their goodbyes, "we sold the journal to Mr. Wilson - who happens to be disgustingly rich - with the condition that he found a way to clean your name so you don't have to leave the country and take my little sister with you."
Grace blushes, because now that's put into word, it sounds really lame.
"Zo he pulled the federal army in" Mr. Borg continues, "and promised General Sherman the presidency of the company in exchange of zis little favour. Plus a 50% discount."
"Yeah, Legs. You owe us big time!" Mamrie adds, good-naturedly.
"Mr. Borg was the best!" Hannah concludes, walking backwards so she can face the other three, "he knew where to find a buyer, and he came up with the idea that Troye should join the company to develop the formula... the whole deal is his brainchild."
Grace rubs a finger across her forehead. "Are you saying I... I really am clean?"
"Yeah!" Hannah says "You can walk down any street in the Unites States without fear. That medal is your warrant. There's your name on it."
"Okay..." Grace says to herself, trying to wrap her head around the idea. "Okay."
"What's wrong, Legs?" Mamrie asks, "this is good news, for fuck's sake! Cheer up."
"Yes, God, of course" she says, apologetic, "it's just... I guess I'm not sure what to do with myself now."
"Oh, don't worry," Hannah says "we have an idea. But first, there's someone I want you to meet."
They're outside the gate now, and Hannah jogs to Cheddar, who's been riding without the caravan and looks even more relaxed than usual. She pulls something fluffy from a pocket on the saddle, and offers it to Grace.
"Here. She's yours if you want her."
Beanz barks from her pocket on the other side of the saddle, greeting Grace, who's now holding the most lively puppy she's ever seen.
"Well, she's cute" She admits.
"Goose. Her name is Goose."