The Given Name
Raylan Givens. He hasn't always been proud of his name, but it would never occur to him to change it. Some things just fit, like the hat and the sage-green t-shirt and having a name that reminds him of Harlan County, the place he'll never go again.
Except, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. He feels more like a mouse than a man when he boards the airplane. There is no guilt in his soul, but being justified, unfortunately, doesn't exempt you from being transferred by the US Marshall Service. Suddenly, his name is a little bit too immediate, a threat rather than a reminder. He's a brave man, but he's not exempt from fear.
He hates fear. He has been overcome with dread twice in his life past the age of twelve, when he decided that no matter what Arlo did, it wasn't going to scare him. The first time was when he'd come home and found Winona gone. It had felt like one of those urban legends where someone puts you under and takes your kidney without you realizing it. Except, it felt like she'd taken his heart.
The second time, not that he'd admit it to another soul, was when he'd realized he couldn't fight Harlan and stay a Marshall. There's a reason somebody wrote a song called "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive." The first time was a near-miracle. He doubted he deserved another.
And yet, somewhere between the supremacist ramblings of Boyd Crowder, the feel of Ava's lips on his, and the two-bit motel, something starts to shift. There's fire in the hole and fire in his heart. You can't dread something you're indifferent to, the way the sharpness in his gut when he thinks of Winona reminds him of the love he still harbors.
Perhaps dread portends love—love for bumpy dirt roads, moonshine that can knock your head clean off, and people who don't know how to mind their own business. Maybe there's even a little place in his heart for the vision that makes his eyes narrow every time he approaches Helen and Arlo's place—of a skinny kid named Raylan, who wanted nothing more than to be the hero in the westerns he snuck out to watch.
He hasn't ever been proud of Harlan, but somehow it still fits, like the name and the hat and the gun. Sometimes, you have to take what you're given.