A/N: I'm posting all of my old stories here. This one was originally published in Lou's Library at Lady for an Era. I was a big Shania Twain fan for about 5 minutes in my early 20's – just long enough for a story inspiration to hit!
Black Eyes, Blue Tears
from Shania Twain's cd, Come on Over
I'd rather die standing,
than live on my knees,
begging please, no more...
Black eyes, I don't need 'em,
Blue tears, give me freedom,
Black eyes, all behind me,
Blue tears are never gonna find me now.
Chapter One
Louise hid in the corner of her room, between her bed and the wall, as the sounds of the argument drifted in from the kitchen.
"You worthless trash!" her father's voice was loud enough to carry all the way across the house. At times like this he sounded like a monster to her.
"William, I'm sorry," her mama tried to calm the angry man. "I'll make some more biscuits if you want."
"Do you think you can just burn my dinner and make some more, and that makes everything right?" The sound of a plate clanging against the wall echoed through the house, and Louise winced, thankful that all their plates were metal. Her father had long ago broken all the fine china her mama had inherited from Grandmother McCloud. Now he could throw all the plates he wanted, and they would never break. Louise was always thankful when he threw the plate at the wall instead of at her mama.
Across the house, baby Theresa started crying, startled by the noise her father was making. Louise scrambled from her hiding place and ran to Theresa's cradle. Picking up the one-week-old baby, Louise rocked her, trying to get her to stop crying. Two-year-old Jeremiah was playing on the floor beside the cradle, having learned already to ignore the fighting that had become a normal part of the household routine. Only Louise could remember when her father was kind, when he would play with her and read to her; before he started hitting her mama – before her parents started arguing about her father's business dealings and before he started drinking. That was a long time ago though, and the memories were fading more and more all the time.
"Can't you get that kid to shut up?" her father bellowed across the room at Louise.
"I think she's hungry," Louise replied meekly.
"God forbid the brat goes without a meal, even if the biscuits are burned and my dinner is ruined. Put her back in the cradle."
"But she's hungry," Louise had no idea what caused her to stand up to her father, but she would be paying the price for days afterward.
"I said put her down!" her father bellowed. Louise hurried to obey this time, almost dropping her sister in her haste to comply.
"I'll teach you to back talk me," her father grabbed her arm and dragged her to her bedroom, almost pulling her arm out of its socket. Once there, he pulled off his belt and slammed the door in her mama's face, as she begged him to leave Louise alone.
When he emerged a few minutes later, putting his belt back on, he pulled the door shut behind him.
"I'm going to the saloon," he said calmly. "Louise is to stay in her room all night, alone," he ordered. He left the house, leaving Mary standing there in shock. He had been hitting her for years, and she never complained, but he had never hit Louise before now...and she'd be damned if he would ever do it again.
A determined look on her face, she opened Louise's door and softly walked over to the tiny figure curled up on the bed. Her courage almost faltered at the sight of the huge red welts all over her legs; but she squared her shoulders and sat down next to her daughter.
"Louise, honey, it's gonna be alright," she put her arms around the seven-year-old little girl. "I need you to be brave for me right now, because I'm gonna need your help, alright?"
Louise obediently wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded, sitting up.
"Honey, we're gonna go on a little trip...just you and me, and Jeremiah, and baby Theresa. I need you to gather up some clothes as quickly as you can, but only what you absolutely need. We don't have much room in the carpet bag. I'm going to get Jeremiah and Theresa ready. Can you do what I asked?"
Louise nodded and crawled off the bed, wincing when her feet hit the floor. She pulled out the few articles of clothing she owned and, folding them neatly, piled them on the bed. When her mama brought the carpetbag in a few minutes later, Louise put her things in, on top of her mama's and the smaller children's items. She would leave everything else behind, but in the very top, she put her most prized possession, her doll, Miss Annabelle Mumblepuss. She barely managed to get the bag closed, and dragged it down the hallway to the door. Looking outside, she saw her mama had saddled their two horses and was tying bundles of food to the back of one of them.
"Louise, we have to move quickly. Bring me the carpetbag so I can tie it to the other horse."
Louise hurried to do as her mother said. Mama hadn't told her, but somehow she understood that they were running away, and they needed to be far away before her father got home.
Soon, everything was ready and her mama helped Louise onto her horse, lifting Jeremiah up in front of her. Holding onto Theresa, she managed to mount the other horse, and they set off. In the falling darkness, Louise saw her mother look back towards the house, and, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, she heard her say,
"No more."