Sorry guys, but Choice or Chance wasn't really doing it for me any more, so I've started again if you like. This story is set about six months after Trying To Catch Your Heart. I hope you like it and you'll review. I'm keeping Choice or Chance up, as you never know I might finish it as an alternative one day, but for now it is on hiatus.
As usual, I don't own any characters except original ones, and in particular, I don't own the concepts in this story which flow from the DQMW episode 'The Campaign' (?) or any of the dialogue from that episode.
Enjoy!
It was the sunlight coming through the bedroom window that woke Emma Jane Lawson. As the first rays hit her face, she screwed her eyes up tighter and turned her head away, but as they continued to spread across the bed, she resigned herself to morning and gingerly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the crack on the bedroom ceiling and her first thought was to get it fixed as soon as possible. Then she looked to her right, expecting to see Hank lying beside her, only to find the bed empty. Strangely fearful, she glanced quickly towards the Moses basket at the far end of the room and was relieved to be able to make out the shape of her son lying sleeping. Quietly, so as not to wake him, she climbed out of the bed and padded across the floor to gaze down at him. He was lying with his fists at either side of his face, ready to take on the world. Lovingly, she stroked the thin wisps of hair on his head and marvelled at how perfect he really was.
At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Hank appeared holding a tray. "What ya doin' up?" he asked, "was bringin' ya breakfast in bed."
Emma Jane grinned, "That's very thoughtful of you. Dutifully, she hurried back over to the bed and climbed back in, so that he could put the tray on her lap. Looking down she saw eggs, just the way she liked them, bacon and coffee. Plus, there was also a rose in a glass. Smelling it, she looked up at him, "Did I miss a special occasion?"
"Nope," he said, climbing on the bed beside her, "just wanted to spoil ya, that's all."
She moved the tray off of her lap and turned so she was facing him, "You don't have to keep doing things like this you know. I'm not about to take to my heels and run off."
"I know," he replied, but his tone was unconvincing.
"Seriously, I'm not." She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently, "since we've been back, I've been unable to think of a single reason why I wanted to leave." They both knew she was stretching the truth slightly, but it was better than nothing. "Besides," she took a mouthful of coffee, "I'm beginning to think that Doctor O'Neil doesn't know what he's talking about. Will's been perfectly fine since we brought him back. I think the Colorado air has done him a power of good."
"P'raps yer right," Hank walked over to the basket and looked down at the baby, "looks healthy enough."
"Of course he is," she reiterated, "some people just don't know what they're talking about."
"Anyways," he turned back to her, "best go and get tidied up downstairs fore the crowds arrive. Take yer time," he gestured to her breakfast, "ain't been slavin' over a hot stove for ya to finish it in two minutes."
"I promise to savour every mouthful," she replied, watching as he left the room. She glanced over at the basket again and then looked heavenwards, "I think you were all pulling my leg," she said to no-one in particular, "there is absolutely nothing wrong with him."
SSSS
Downstairs in the bar, Hank was putting the chairs out when there was a knock at the saloon door. Drawing the lock back, he looked out and saw a well-dressed man in a suit standing looking at his pocket watch. Opening the door, Hank faced him down, "Can I help ya?"
"Mr Lawson?" the man glanced at the paper he was holding in his hand, "Joseph Newberry, Denver City Bank?" He held out his hand, "pleased to meet you."
Hank shook it suspiciously, "We're not open for another coupla hours."
Joseph Newberry laughed, "Oh I'm not here for a drink I assure you. May I come in and speak with you a moment? It's fairly important."
Hank paused and then stepped back to allow the other man in. Closing the door again, he pulled two chairs down from a table and motioned for his guest to sit down.
"Thank you," Joseph said, laying his papers on the table, "Mr Lawson, according to our records, you took out a loan with our bank on the…" he squinted at the writing, "…fourteenth of December last year."
"Yeah, I did."
"And you took out this loan against your…business," Joseph looked around.
"So?"
"Mr Lawson, when you signed for this loan, you agreed to pay back this amount each month," he showed Hank the figure, "and yet, you haven't made any repayments in the past six months."
"Things have been kinda tight," Hank said, "business ain't been as good."
"I can appreciate that," Joseph said, "However, in the banking world, we don't tend to be able to accept that explanation for non-payment. In fact, we take a very dim view of people who take out such loans only to be unable to pay them back."
"What exactly are ya tryin' to say?" Hank demanded.
"What I'm saying, Mr Lawson, is that unless you can come up with the required amount of money, then the bank will have no choice but to foreclose."
"Foreclose?"
Joseph nodded, "And that means that the ownership of your business would pass to the bank."
"Wait a Goddamn minute," Hank said, "Yer sayin' that the bank would take the saloon?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Well, how can I stop it?"
Joseph stood up and began gathering up his papers, "You have until the end of next week to come up with the money, or we will take possession of this building."
"Look," Hank stood up, "I don't just work here, I live here. My family lives here."
"You should have thought of them before you took out the loan," Joseph said, "Good day to you Mr Lawson."
Hank wanted to grab the puny little banker by his collar and yell that his family had been exactly who he had been thinking of when he took out the loan. When he had stopped at Denver on the way to New York to get Emma Jane back, he had made the loan to cover the cost of what he had taken from the saloon. It had seemed like the best idea at the time.
"Who was that?"
Whirling around, he saw Emma Jane coming into the bar, holding the baby in her arms.
"Just an early customer," he told her.
"For goodness sake!" she exclaimed, "Don't the men in this town have enough hours of the day to drink as it is?" she shook her head, "Victoria's got a little bit of a cold I think, so I've left her in bed. I'll call on Michaela later to see if she can take a look at her." She paused as she saw his expression. "Is everything all right?"
"Course it is," he said with fake brightness, coming over and kissing her, "Everythin's fine."
"Ok," she replied, "I'm just going to call on Grace and see if she can make Victoria some of her vegetable soup. It's her favourite. I'll take Will with me, let you have some peace to get on." With that, she stepped outside into the sunlight. Hank watched her go and then kicked the bar, hard, in frustration.
SSSS
Outside, the town was just coming alive as Emma Jane walked down the street towards Grace's Café. Across the road, Loren was opening the shutters and she stopped to greet him, "Morning Loren."
"Morning Emma Jane," he said, coming down the stairs, "how's the little one doin' today?"
"He's fine," she proudly showed him off, "getting bigger every day."
"He looks a strong healthy thing," Loren observed and was surprised when Emma Jane kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you Loren, I appreciate that," she said. "Are you going to the town meeting this afternoon?"
"You betcha," he said, "I gotta lotta things I want done."
"I'll see you there then," she wished him good day and then continued on to the café where Grace was serving breakfast.
"Mornin' Emma Jane," she greeted her.
"Morning Grace. I was wondering if you could do me a really big favour."
"What's that?"
"Victoria's a little poorly this morning and I know that she would love some of your vegetable soup, if you have any."
"For that little child, anything," Grace replied, "I'll bring some over in a little while."
"Thanks Grace."
"No problem. And how's this little one doing?" she looked down at Will, "he's mighty cute."
"I know," Emma Jane replied happily, "just like his father."
SSSS
Hank, meanwhile, was trying to work out the state of the saloon books and was getting nowhere fast. Keeping track of the figures was usually Emma Jane's job, but even her neat handwriting couldn't help him work out what all the different columns and things meant. Angrily, he threw the books onto the floor, then picked them up hurriedly, in case she came back and wondered what he was doing with them, or any of the girls came downstairs. From what he had managed to glean, there was no way to come up with the amount of money needed by the end of the following week, not from the saloon's takings at any rate. He thought long and hard and then it came to him. Climbing the stairs, he went into the bedroom and into the wardrobe. Feeling around under the clothes, he found what he was looking for, a small wooden box. Puling it out, he opened it and lifted out its one treasure; a gold locket.
He twisted it in his hands, the sunlight reflecting off of it, making it shine. Opening it, he looked at the pictures inside; his mother and father. Why his mother had kept the one of his father, he would never know, but he ignored it and looked only at his mother. She had been beautiful, long blonde hair like his own, and a smile that could light up a room. Emily Lawson had done the best she could by her children, but in so many ways, it just hadn't been enough.
Hank closed the locket purposefully and gripped it tightly in his hand. It was the one thing he had left of her, but it belonged in the past, and held only painful memories. His present, his future, was Emma Jane and the children and keeping a roof over all their heads had to be more important than a keepsake he could hardly bear to look at.
His mind was made up. It wouldn't fetch all the money they needed, but he would sell it and at least get something.
SSSS
"What we need is a mayor," the Reverend said.
"I nominate Loren Bray!" Jake announced.
"Aw, that's all very flattering, but what we need is someone more like…I nominate Jake Slicker for mayor!"
In her seat near the front, Emma Jane groaned. Jake as mayor? It would be like declaring martial law.
"We need to have an election," the Reverend said sensibly, "let's hear some more nominations."
"I nominate Doctor Mike!" Horace declared.
Emma Jane looked over at Michaela, who looked stunned. "Well, I appreciate it, but I don't know very much about politics."
"You've read all them books. You probably know more than the rest of us do." Horace seemed determined to get his way.
"Can ya imagine Michaela as mayor?" Hank whispered to his wife.
"I think she'd make a very good mayor," Emma Jane replied, "I suppose you'd rather we have Jake."
"Course I do," he told her, "Jake's a man."
"We can't have a lady mayor," Loren said.
"Why not?" Horace asked.
"It would make us look like…" Loren was stuck for the right phrase.
"A town full of cissies?" Hank offered. Everyone laughed, but Emma Jane dug him hard in the ribs.
"Thank you for the nomination Horace," Michaela stood up, "I accept."
Emma Jane smiled triumphantly, "See? I bet you she wins."
"Let's hope she don't," he told her.
"You're just afraid of having to take orders from a woman," Emma Jane stood up as everyone began filing out of the church, "You already think she's too big for her boots and this would be the final straw, wouldn't it? Well, I personally would like to see it happen and I'm going to offer my support." She made to go over and congratulate the other woman, but Hank grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him.
"Oh yeah? And what do ya think the first thing she would do would be? Close the saloon."
"Don't be so ridiculous," Emma Jane replied, trying to get free of his grip.
"Ain't bein' ridiculous," he told her, his eyes flashing angrily, "she'd stop the entertainin', stop the drinkin' and close us down."
"You're overreacting, now let me go," she demanded, her voice low. The years had taught her not to draw attention to a marital spat.
"Yer not helpin' with any damn campaign to make her mayor."
Emma Jane glared at him, "The days when you told me what to do are long gone, Hank. Now, let go of my arm."
For a moment, they were locked together, their angry gazes penetrating one another. Then, he suddenly let her go, pushing her away from him suddenly so that she almost fell.
"Fine, go," he said, then he turned to leave.
Emma Jane smoothed her hair down and shook her head in exasperation. "All this fuss over an election," she muttered as she went over to speak to Michaela.
Hank stormed back towards the saloon, his head down, his whole body language warning everyone not to come near. The locket was burning a hole in his pocket and he needed to get rid of it as soon as possible. Untying Hurricane from the front of the saloon, he jumped up quickly and turned her towards the edge of town. There was a man he knew in Soda Springs.
It was a start.