scurlock | oom: outside of milliways sorta

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oom: outside of milliways sorta

After returning from Green Lake the night before, Doc had a promise to keep to Miss Katherine in regards to the stables and taking her out riding for a proper tour of the grounds. And even with the immediate exit blocked by strange plants and vines, he'd gone out early to take care of the cleaning, feeding, and general work that he'd missed over the last few days before slipping back in for breakfast and to have a waitrat deliver a note upstairs to her room while he got changed into more riding-appropriate clothes.

The note (which she'll find along with the clothes Bar has most likely helpfully left for her upstairs -- don't ask how the rat got in to leave it, these things just happen) says simply that he'll be out in the stables after she's had breakfast and is ready, but not to rush, and to avoid angering the strange plants and she'll be just fine walking through.

So when she does wander outside, she'll catch him singing if she's quiet walking into the stables. It's a more modern song, but one that he heard while in the bar one day and it caught his interest and he's heard it enough that he's got a little bit of it memorized.

"Well Maggie was my true love, the only kiss I knew
I’d meet her at the oak tree in the cool evening dew
Where we would walk beside the levee, our fingers intertwined
While the crimson moon gazed through the needles of the pines

We’d lay beside each other, staring at the sky
Listenin’ to the whistlin’ of the train blowin’ by..."

That's all he knows, so he trails off towards the middle of the verse.

She'll find that he's in one of the store rooms gathering up the tack they'll need for two horses, and there's a few papers pinned to the wall near the door with his handwriting on them, notes and lists of feed and supplies, reminders, that sort of thing.

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Doc glances over at her, and nods.

"We were the Regulators. And we were good enough that Murphy was scared, and that got us the Cavalry down. We were good but we weren't that good, you know? Doctor Tam and Zhaan did a might fine job of patchin' me up when I stumbled in here the first time."

He thinks on that for a moment.

"For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind: it hath no stalk: the bud shall yield no meal: if so be it yield, the strangers shall swallow it up. Hosea, eight-seven. Murphy and his boys started it when they killed John and we made certain that they got the end of it like they was supposed to."

Stories like this have always interested Katherine. Her daddy would tell her war stories at night sometimes, as they sat near the fireplace and he had her work at her embroidery (despite her protests).

But despite the thrill that rakes through her as she imagines the tale in all its fullness, she realizes that it isn't quite so poetic when it's happened to someone she knows personally.

"I'm glad you made it out all right," she remarks quietly, fingers tightening slightly around the reins. "You did what you had to do, but all the same..."

Pause.

"It sounds mighty dangerous. Your friends... I'm sorry."

"It is mighty dangerous," he agrees. "But somebody's got to be brave enough to stand up against the bad folk and put their foot down, say they ain't gonna take no shit anymore."

Doc winces a little at the swear, mentally kicking himself but he doesn't correct it, this time, and just nods instead. "I suppose the one consolation is that they died doin' the right thing. We're all pals, y'see, and that...that means a lot when you don't really got no family in the world."

Katherine grows very quiet, face turned away from Doc as they slowly move along. For quite some time the only thing you can hear is the clip-clop of hooves.

But somebody's got to be brave enough to stand up against the bad folk and put their foot down

"My father died about two years back," she says. Her voice is muffled as her face is still turned away. "Our neighbors down the hill kept a few Negro men as 'hired help.' But I'm afraid there are a lot of folk in Texas, still having trouble understanding the definition of the new constitution.

"My daddy was hoping to help several of their boys get over to San Antonio, where they could get honest work with some friends of our family, so he helped them sneak out and hid them away."

She strokes Duncan's mane absently and finally turns her clear eyes back towards Doc. "They shot him dead, our neighbors. Through the heart, while he was off hunting deer."

She turns back to the horizon and nudges her horse forward. "Sheriff called it a hunting accident."

I suppose the one consolation is that they died doin' the right thing

Doc meets her eyes when she turns her head towards him, and his are just a little bit dark as he listens to her tell him about her father being killed. Murdered. A shot like that wasn't an accident, no matter if the Sheriff said so himself.

His fingers curl tight around the reins.

"Seems it ain't too often you can trust the word of the law, these days," he comments, and there's a hint of almost anger in his voice at the entire situation. Calling it an accident. A young woman without her daddy after her mother had died, without family. Bullshit.

Doc pulls in a deep breath to settle his temper down and then glances over at her.

"For what it's worth, know it ain't much to hear words when you're hurtin' from losin' someone," he says. "I'm sorry t'hear it."

"Seems so," she says quietly.

Clip-clop
Clip-clop
Clip-clop...

At length she turns back to him, a perfectly crafted smile on her face. "It's all right. We all have our own ghosts to carry."

Despite it all, sympathy still manages to shine in her eyes.

Some have more ghosts than others.

Doc nods, not really having anything to say to that, and he's content to sway lightly in the saddle as they travel along the forest. He's pretty sure he hears movement off in the brush but the bunnies will leave them alone for now, if they're smart.

"Y'ever traveled anywhere outside Texas, 'sides Tulane?"

"Hm?"

She's looking around the forest, trying to place the strange rustling and rattling. Duncan exhales sharply, shaking his long head and twitching his ears.

"I'm afraid not," she answers, patting the horse as they meander along. "Tulane was a special privilege for a young woman like me. I spent most of my time growing up inside the same town, and when I came home from Tulane there was the settling of my father's affairs that needed to be done."

She tips the brim of her hat up and gazes about the forest wistfully.

"Still plenty of time left for travel, though. I hope."

"Perhaps once I take care of things back home, you could come visit," he says. "It's gettin' to be fall back home, trees back East would be changin' soon, we're gettin' snow up in the mountains even in New Mexico, if it gets down cold enough."

Doc nods a little and glances at her.

"Even with those students of yours in Green Lake, there's always time for a bit of travel now and then, suppose that's one nice thing about this bar, you get to see an awful lot if you'd like to."

And she'd like to.

But that's not the sort of thing you just come out and say to a single gentleman. So she tips her head in his direction and lets a slow-spreading smile do the answering for her.

"It sounds lovely. Do you have plans to go back any time soon?"

It's an innocent question, really.

"I'm thinkin' so, yeah," he admits. "I've been here quite the spell," he adds, almost a bit sheepishly. "Four months, just 'bout."

Doc chuckles at himself.

"It's gettin' to where I'm thinkin' I should just go home and get it over with."

An eyebrow goes up.

"That is quite the stay for one to be in a saloon. Let alone one at the end of the universe," she teases.

But his last comment gives her pause.

"Is there some reason you wouldn't want to go home?"

"I got friends here," he says. "Honest work that don't require me gettin' shot at or havin' to hide who I am. It's got everythin' a man could want, 'cept I do admit I miss home now and again."

Doc hesitates a moment and reaches up to tip his hat back, letting it hang by the cord around his neck -- they're still in a pretty shaded part of the forest, after all.

"We're in...well reckon you could call it a rather tight spot."

Her eyes are focused on him. For some reason, she parrots his action, tipping her hat off her head and letting it fall against her back.

"How so?"

"Ah, just...well Garrett's posse's right on us and that ain't never good, and we've been runnin' so long that I just got this feelin' it may not be too much longer 'fore we get ourselves caught. We're tryin' hard but he's just got too many eyes and ears all over the territory."

He cocks his head to the side and studies the path ahead.

"Depends on if I should believe everythin' I read in books," Doc quips, but it's not a very amused sounding laugh that comes from his throat.

I just got this feelin' it may not be too much longer 'fore we get ourselves caught

Her brow is furrowed at him.

"What does that mean?" she asks, a strange nervousness unfurling in her belly.

"Means I'm gonna go back home and do everythin' in my damn power t'git out of the whirlwind 'fore I end up a stiff in a photograph," he says, the barest hint of a smile at his lips. "I think I can do it. That's why I've been practicin' jugglin', like Mr. Wade was talkin' 'bout."

Doc draws the Colt in a fluid motion and spins it a few times before he reholsters the weapon back at his hip.

"Helps with havin' fast hands."

She watches as the weapon spins, catching the light of morning despite the shaded woods.

Given any other circumstances she probably would have blushed with awed delight at the display of skill. But not this time. His words were ringing in her ears.

If they had been walking, she would have stopped in her tracks. But the horse kept her moving forward, so the sudden rigidness of her posture is the only sign she's frozen in place.

"You -- You--" she stammers. She doesn't know what to say.

Turning back toward the horizon, she replaces her hat, head bowed in such a way that the brim darkens her eyes completely. She holds the hat in place for a long, lingering moment.

"You be careful," she finally murmurs.

Doc nods.

"Swear it," he says honestly.

Another moment or two of silence, before he glances over at her and dares a smile.

"Besides, I got somethin' I gotta get back here for," he adds. "And I ain't one to break a swear when good friends of mine are involved."

Yeah he's worried but he's confident. Maybe it's misplaced. Maybe he won't make it back but he's not about to let that thought into his head. He can't. If he doubts himself he'll hesitate and won't do the right thing.

Then, quieter, "I'll be careful," he promises, again. "I'll get back."

Katherine, too, attempts a smile in reply to his oath, but her eyes stay downcast as they ride on.

It's when his voice gets quieter, and he insists he'll make it back, she feels something in her chest tighten and the smile slides from her face.

Gently, but insistently, she pulls back on her reins and stops the horse. She sits for a spell before she lifts her chin and looks at him again.

"How can you be sure?"

It's barely a whisper.

When she stops her horse, Doc pulls up lightly on the reins of his own and slows him, turning Rachat in a circle so that he's alongside her but facing her instead.

"Because..."

He's at a loss for words for a moment, as he's looking at her, trying to figure out just what he can say to put his thoughts into words that make sense. He rakes a hand through his hair again before he starts talking.

"Because I ain't no Tenderfoot," he finally says. "And I ain't scared of gettin' blood on my hands if it means gettin' back to this place. There ain't nothin' more important in the world than your pals and the people you can't do without. The people you wouldn't be afraid to go out that front door and die for. The people you love most."

She stares at him for a long moment, her eyes focused on his. Again, she doesn't know what to say.

That was more eloquent than any nickel book she has ever read before. With more passion than any dime novel could ever recreate. She just doesn't know what to say.

She squeezes her eyes shut and turns her face away from him. The thought of blood on his hands disturbs her a little.

The same hands that held chalk to a blackboard in front of a roomful of students not a full day past.

She needs air, even though she's breathing hard, so she dismounts and paces back and forth a few times before stopping and wrapping her arms around Duncan's neck.

The needed comfort, she knows, couldn't come from Doc. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be proper. So she buries her face in the chestnut's soft, slick coat, knocking her cowboy hat back again, and breathes.

Just breathe.

"I'm just afraid something bad will happen to you."

Like it did to Alex. And Charlie. And Steve.

And Billy.

Edited 2008-08-20 06:47 (UTC)

Doc shifts in the saddle and swings a leg over to dismount the horse, taking the reins and looping them into a quick knot against a nearby branch, before he walks over and stands next to her.

"Kate," he says quietly. "Look at me a minute, okay?"

When she does lift her gaze to his face, he holds the eye contact for a minute.

"Bein' an outlaw means you gotta take risks to get what you want. But on the other hand, it helps you realize what you want most and it makes it easy to choose. When you're out there ridin' hard and you've got seconds to pick one path or another...your gotta be able to trust yourself. I trust myself. Because I know what I want -- to get back here. To see my friends again. To see you again. And I ain't gonna let anything, anybody stop me from that, alright? I swear it."

A pause.

"I ain't gonna lie that I'm scared to walk out that door but that fear ain't a bad thing. That fear...that's what's gonna keep me sharp. Keep me alive. I'm gonna make it back."

He's convinced.

She looks into his eyes, and she can see that he's convinced.

Maybe it's just the romantic little ideals of a quixotic young girl, but she feels convinced, too. Assured. Bolstered.

She nods slowly, her eyes on his.

"Forgive me," she murmurs, very quietly. "I forgot I was talking to one of Billy the Kid's fearsome posse."

"Y'gotta learn to stop apologizin' so much," Doc teases lightly, gently, his eyes still on hers. "And while I may be part of Billy the Kid's fearsome posse...that ain't all I am and I think you know that."

He hopes she knows that.

He hopes she remembers that.

His hand is itching to reach up and touch her jaw, and if it were any other woman he might even kiss her. But it wouldn't be proper. It would be too forward. Much too forward. It wouldn't be proper at all.

Doc closes his eyes and sighs, just a bit, ducking his head with a smile on his face.

"Forgive me," he whispers.

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