Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-11-25 03:42 pm
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Victoria County, Texas, 1888 -- OOM for Ben Wade (part 2)
[following this:]
It was a breathtaking sunrise. Kate slept through part of it, waking when the sky was already on fire, pink clouds melting into a violet haze at the horizon. She rose up and gave Ben his coat back, shaking off the chill in her bones and the fog across her mind from not enough solid rest.
The morning routine set them in opposite directions at first, as they quietly attempt to wake themselves up for the ride into town. "Baths" need to be taken (in other words, they need to walk down to the river and splash freezing water on themselves), fires rebuilt, food prepared, and trail coffee is a definite must.
Kate leaves Ben to his own devices, wandering off to see what sort of game she can rustle up.
Moments later, gunfire breaks the serenity of the desert morning.
.
It was a breathtaking sunrise. Kate slept through part of it, waking when the sky was already on fire, pink clouds melting into a violet haze at the horizon. She rose up and gave Ben his coat back, shaking off the chill in her bones and the fog across her mind from not enough solid rest.
The morning routine set them in opposite directions at first, as they quietly attempt to wake themselves up for the ride into town. "Baths" need to be taken (in other words, they need to walk down to the river and splash freezing water on themselves), fires rebuilt, food prepared, and trail coffee is a definite must.
Kate leaves Ben to his own devices, wandering off to see what sort of game she can rustle up.
Moments later, gunfire breaks the serenity of the desert morning.
.
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"Mornin'," the man replies, his eyes sliding from Ben to the rabbits, then to Kate, and he offers a respectful nod in her direction. "Y'all doin' all right?"
"As fine as the good Lord intended," Ben says, amicable and all smiles. "He just provided some fine breakfast for me and the wife, here."
The man's eyes fall to the rabbits once more.
"I heard the shots."
"That's right," Ben says. "No trouble, just makin' sure Prudence gets a good meal to keep her strength up. She's got the consumption, y'see."
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She takes a few steps back and lets the menfolk talk, like a good little preacher's wife. There will be plenty of time for beatings later.
"Oh, Tucker. I told you that you was gonna wake the dead, causin' all that fuss. You know you can't shoot for shit."
...Or, maybe she'll just give him hell right now.
She turns and smiles serenely at their visitor, careful not to give him too long to see her face. He looks shocked by the vulgarity, but Kate sweetly soldiers on.
"What's your name, friend?"
"Uh." He shifts in the saddle. "John. John Cole. It's a pleasure, ma'am."
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He gives Cole another easy smile, letting it reach his eyes.
"Nice meetin' you, Mr. Cole. I'm Tucker Evans -- Brother Tucker, that is."
Ben gestures toward Kate's kills with his free hand.
"You eaten anything yet, yourself? We got enough of the Lord's bounty to share."
Cole's mouth opens and his Adam's apple bobs.
"I, uh -- that's kind, but I couldn't. Not with Miss Prudence needin' an extra helpin'."
Thank you, Jesus, Ben doesn't say.
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"You're kind," she wheezes, nodding her head graciously to Mr. Cole.
His mouth turns up in a half-smile.
"Are ya'll headin' up to Cuero?"
Come to think of it, Kate never did settle on a destination. She figured as long as they followed the river north they'd come upon civilization sooner or later.
"W-we are," she says, eyes skittering to Ben briefly. "Just about how far is that from here? You know?"
"Not too much farther. Prolly 'bout half a day's ride, by my reckoning."
She nods -- half a day's ride isn't so bad -- and turns the conversation back over to the good reverend.
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"I've heard that myself," Cole says, then clears his throat. "Well, uh, best of luck to the both of you, Brother Tucker."
"And you, Mr. Cole."
Cole gives "Prudence" another polite nod, and Ben offers the man a wave as Cole urges his horse along.
"Just be careful," Cole calls over his shoulder. "There's bandits who'll take advantage of your kindness out here if y'ain't careful."
"Oh, there's no need to worry about us," Ben says without a trace of irony. "We'll get ourselves to Cuero lickety-split."
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Her eyes slide to Ben when Cole calls out his parting advice, somehow managing not to snort.
"We sure will. Ain't no time to dawdle with the way you handle them guns, sweetheart. I'd sure hate to come across some of them highway robbers. Goodness me! Thank you, Mr. Cole! You have safe travels!"
She waves until her little speech dissolves into a coughing fit and she's forced to draw her hand back over her mouth, turning towards the campfire.
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"See that? The Lord just worked in one of those mysterious ways He's so famous for."
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(Gently.)
"Maybe we should work on gettin' our story straight, 'fore we head into town," she huffs.
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(If she'd caught him in the solar plexus, he'd've dropped one or both rabbits.)
"What's got you so out of sorts, Prudie?"
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"Call me that again," she murmurs, "and I will kill you."
It's all fun and games until someone loses a heart.
"I'll git the fire goin' and then head down to the river t'git us some water to boil. I need to wash up, too."
She fusses with her right shoulder absently before crouching in front of their smoking campfire, prodding the embers with a stick.
"Then I guess we should talk 'bout Cuero."
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He places the rifle with the rest of her things, then settles in to clean the kills, the knife in his practiced hands making quick work of fur and meat and blood and bone.
Eyes on his handiwork, he doesn't look up when he speaks again.
"How's the shoulder?"
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"Achin' some," she says, holding her hands out to the flames now licking up branch and bramble. "Prob'ly just from sleepin' on the ground in this weather. Hurt somethin' fierce all winter long in Colorada."
She leans back on her heels, unbuttoning her collar and pushing her sleeve down enough to expose the scarred flesh on her arm. For such a superficial wound, it sure left an ugly mark to remember by. Long and jagged and discolored in patches.
She examines it for a moment or two before she draws her collar back up, and massages her bicep as she stands.
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"You have any kinda doctor near Doc's spread there?"
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"No. He was pretty far removed from any kinda town. I took care of myself, mostly."
She's rustling around for clean clothes and soap.
"Until I couldn't no more.
"Been looked at by a doctor in the bar, though. Guppy, in case you know him. Don't think I mentioned his name 'fore."
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"Don't think I know him."
A beat.
"He give you a clean bill of health?"
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"I'm too skinny," she says, standing erect. "M'gonna go clean up. Would you watch out for passersby? Shouldn't be too long."
She's already moving in the direction of the river, which is several yards away from their campsite and downhill a little, tucked behind wild foliage.
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He turns his attention to the horizon and nods.
"Go right ahead -- I'll start cookin'."
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The campsite is close enough that she can hear louder noises from the riverside, though most of Ben's movements are hushed by the murmur of water passing by. It's comforting, in a way, now that her mind is in another world.
'He give you a clean bill of health?'
(The cold water is anything but comforting; she yelps as she steps in.)
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(She is still wearing her boots, however, and her hair is still wet.)
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(It is.)
Satisfied, he pops the meat into his mouth, hissing slightly and somehow managing not to blister his tongue.
Gesturing for Kate to take a seat, he assembles a biscuit sandwich for her, handing it over carefully so no fingers get burned.
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"How is it?"
She takes the proffered seat after depositing her things back at her bags, and eyes the sandwich before taking it into her hands.
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Wounded expression firmly in place, he assembles his own breakfast sandwich.
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"Don't give me that. I remember the last time I put you in a kitchen."
She waits for the meat to cool enough to take a bite.
It's not bad.
(She could do better.)
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Once half his own makeshift sandwich is gone, "So, tell me about Cuero."
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