Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-11-07 12:22 pm
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-11-07 12:22 pm
Entry tags:
Victoria County, Texas, 1888 -- OOM for Ben Wade
[following this:]
The door dropped them off out in the middle of nowhere -- right were Kate was, the last time she'd been 'home.' When she'd left Green Lake after confronting Trout, she'd ridden north with little thought in mind other than putting some distance between the Walker estate and herself. If she had any point of reference, she might have known this put her right in the middle of the 44 Ranch, but there was nothing to see for miles but brush and scrub and river water and dirt.
She and Ben had mounted up and kept going north, following the river until nightfall. Their ride had been somewhat reserved, quiet, and somber. The both of them had a lot to think about, after the morning's events back in Milliways.
Setting up camp was also a quiet affair, punctuated by brief discussions of where they should tie the horses, who should build the fire, what they should cook and eat -- anything they could think of that didn't touch on the subject of Doc, or the limp in Kate's step.
Ben took first watch following supper, offering to also take the third. But after he woke Kate for her turn at second watch, she was up, and didn't bother waking him when the time came around for him to take over. Her eyes were on the horizon, and the clear night sky overhead.
She had missed her Texas sky.
.
The door dropped them off out in the middle of nowhere -- right were Kate was, the last time she'd been 'home.' When she'd left Green Lake after confronting Trout, she'd ridden north with little thought in mind other than putting some distance between the Walker estate and herself. If she had any point of reference, she might have known this put her right in the middle of the 44 Ranch, but there was nothing to see for miles but brush and scrub and river water and dirt.
She and Ben had mounted up and kept going north, following the river until nightfall. Their ride had been somewhat reserved, quiet, and somber. The both of them had a lot to think about, after the morning's events back in Milliways.
Setting up camp was also a quiet affair, punctuated by brief discussions of where they should tie the horses, who should build the fire, what they should cook and eat -- anything they could think of that didn't touch on the subject of Doc, or the limp in Kate's step.
Ben took first watch following supper, offering to also take the third. But after he woke Kate for her turn at second watch, she was up, and didn't bother waking him when the time came around for him to take over. Her eyes were on the horizon, and the clear night sky overhead.
She had missed her Texas sky.
.
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Pursing her lips together, she nods to herself.
"I made the right choice."
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"Which one?"
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"Killin' that sheriff," she says. "Ridin' out of town. Not lookin' back.
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Wouldn't go back."
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"That's a good start, then."
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"An' I want you to teach me the rest. Y'know, the not flyin' off and gettin' killed part."
Like earlier, it's really not funny but her mouth quirks into a smile anyway.
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"Well, hell, sounds like you've got it right there -- there's nothin' left for me to do."
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"There's plenty left for you t'do, Ben."
She holds onto him just a little bit tighter.
(If she keeps losing her friends like she's been, she'll go crazy before anyone else gets the chance to lay a hand on her.)
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A beat.
"Hen-peck and nag."
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"If you weren't here t'do it, nobody else would."
Her eyes slip shut again.
"I need that. Sometimes."
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"I think you might need it more'n sometimes."
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"M'gettin' better," she promises instead. "I learned a lot. From Doc. 'Fore he was taken."
Beat.
"And I learned a lot afterwards."
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"Like what?"
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"Like..."
Her voice quavers subtly, and she takes a moment to steady it.
"Like lettin' other people make their own decisions, even if I think they're wrong. They ain't my students. Like... puttin' a little faith in someone else. Not doin' everythin' on my own.
"Like bein' prepared t'lose somethin' -- even if the thought scares the hell out of me -- because it's better than not havin' it at all."
Night continues to climb along, the first signs of daylight just beginning to show at the far horizon.
The corner of her mouth twitches with a bittersweet memory.
"Like knowin' when t'admit defeat, an' bow out gracefully. S'a hard one. M'used t'winnin' arguments. He let me for the longest time, too, 'til he'd done and had enough. Might'a never gone t'settle things with Ramon without that lesson."
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He doesn't say anything, not yet, in case she still needs more time to think out loud.
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She doesn't even realize how much time is passing while she silently reflects, a secret smile on her lips (and an ache in her heart).
"There he is."
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"Don't tell me you had peyote without me."
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"No. S'my mornin' star."
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He eyes the sky.
"Guess I could christen it Short Stuff in your honor."
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"No, s'just... s'where the spirits go. To watch over you."
She's not making much sense, she realizes. She forces her eyes open, focusing on the bright pinprick in the east.
"S'just a story Chenoa used t'tell me. After my daddy died. Been thinkin' 'bout it a lot since... bein' alone in Colorada for so long..."
She shakes her head weakly, and quietly repeats the Indian folklore.
She's rambling a little, tired and a bit tipsy, and when she's done with the story she talks about her daddy's ranch, and the hired hands she'd grown up with. They were the closest things to family she had after her father's murder.
Chenoa was a Tonkawa Indian, and he'd told her many traditional folklores throughout her whole young life. Several she kept tucked away in the back of her mind. The story of death and Morning Star was one of the foremost that touched her.
"I could sure use the guidance, if nothin' else."
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He smiles, small and brief.
"Reckon you could do worse than cast your eyes up to the sky, as long as your boots're on the ground."
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"I won't be joinin' 'im anytime soon."
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A beat.
"And Dan don't count."
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Another silence passes between them.
"Thank you. For bein' here," she eventually murmurs. "I needed y'here with me through this."
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"None of that -- you can thank me when the job's done."
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She just needed to get away.
Not too much longer thereafter, comforted by being able to share her thoughts and have him remain there beside her, she leaves the watch to him by finally dropping off.
Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.