It's a far cry from the hotels she used to stay in. Still, the fact remains that Texas, even a little motel with scratchy sheets in Texas, isn't Milliways.

Rachel's smiling, faint but relaxed, feeling warm and comfortable and not thinking too long on the last time she felt this way. All ready to sleep herself, she blinks over at Kate when she starts to speak.

And it's good, so far as apologies go. It's a nice one, well thought out and with respect to her feelings. Kate looking out for her, worrying about her, wanting her to be--

to be home
to be safe

Kate's not that much older than her, but there's a motherly air to that concern that highlights how she must see the younger girl.



Rachel smiles. Not the girl at the shops or the fierce grin at the saloon. It's a small, bitter thing, looking at Kate as if she's something novel, something interesting.

"They can't do anything to me," Rachel tells her, her voice calm and quiet with unwavering confidence.

The sheets feel scratchier now than they did a moment ago.

"If that's what's been bugging you all day, forget it."