I never planned on writing any kind of follow up to Shadow in the Woods but then I often do things I hadn't planned on. This story has nothing to do with the lovely stories Anita writes about the adorable Cricket who has befriended poor Violet. This supposes that Violet moved forward without that friendship and with other canon things happening as well. Now it is not vital to have read Shadow in the Woods because I think vital points of knowledge are contained here but I do invite anyone who is curious and has not read that one to give it a gander. It's a decent story if disturbing at times.
Rain pounded on the dirt street of the typically rowdy town. In sheets it came. Earlier there had been thunder and lightning as if gods of old were warring amongst themselves but now there was only soaking rain. Beyond the town's boundaries, farmers were no doubt rejoicing the life giving water flowing from the sky after months of parching drought. In town, however, the rain was less welcome. The typically bustling saloon was devoid of all life. The pianist had even ceased his jangling tune with no one there to hear it. The saloon girls had for the most part retired to their respective chambers. There would be no customers tonight. A lone figure hurried along the street.
She would normally not have been out after dark but work had kept her and with the rain, she knew she was safe from those who might wish to do her harm. Her home was at the end of town and with her head down and shawl pulled tight around her head; she worked to keep herself as dry as was possible in the soaking torrent. In fact, her head was down so far and her eyes so focused on her destination that she nearly passed right by the mound next to her. What made her look to the side, she would never know but she did and quickly recognized the previously shapeless looking lump as a person, a man.
A part of her wanted to keep moving but she just had to look closer. He was unconscious and bleeding. A broken whiskey bottle laying close by explained the flow of blood from his arm. His face was mostly covered by a hat which struck a chord with her in its familiarity but it was the pair of ivory handled pistols strapped low on his hips that made her bend toward him. She knew this man. It had been a long time, far too long but she would never forget what they had been.
Tentatively she reached forward and felt at his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief at feeling a pulse coursing faint but steady. Looking around she felt helpless. He had always been a big, strapping man and while she was not especially petite, there was no way she was going to be able to heft him onto her or in any other way get him home. Her eyes fell on the still open but nearly vacant saloon. Hating to leave the man on the street but having no choice, she hurried inside and over to the bar. The barkeep, Jake Danvers, looked up surprised.
"Miss Markham," he managed as she got within speaking distance, "What brings you in here and on such a night?"
"I need some help, Mr. Danvers," she replied and quickly explained having found the man unconscious in the street.
"Are you sure you want to bring him home, Miss Markham?" Jake asked concerned, "He left here a while ago and he ain't exactly sober. And he's got quite the reputation besides."
"I'm quite sure," she stated with her head high, "Although I thank you for your concern, Mr. Danvers. If you would be so kind as to help me get him back to my house. He's not in very good shape and I dread to think the consequences if he stays unconscious in the pouring rain for very much longer."
It took some doing but Jake Danvers was able to hoist the man over his shoulder and carry him down the street and to the woman's house.
"Where do you want him?" he asked upon entering the small but neatly decorated house.
"On the bed," she answered without a thought and without a care of what talk may spring of it. She had learned once upon a time that talk was just that and nothing she needed to pay any mind at all too. In fact this man had been so much a part of her learning that lesson. "He'll need his rest and I don't imagine I'll be sleeping tonight."
Jake nodded and flopped the man onto the bed.
"You want me to fetch the doc for you, Miss?"
"No Mr. Danvers," she said, "I do not believe that will be necessary. I am sure once he is dried off and his wounds dressed he will just be a good night's sleep away from being good as new."
She followed Jake to the door but stopped the man with a hand on his arm just as he was about to exit the dwelling.
"I cannot thank you enough for helping me," she said softly, "He saved my life once. I owe him." She paused as if thinking for a bit. "Do you like custard pie, Mr. Danvers?"
"Miss?"
"I feel I should thank you somehow and I am told I make a fine custard pie. Perhaps once my guest is feeling better I could make one for you? As a thank you."
"No need to thank me, Miss Markham."
"Oh but there is, Mr. Danvers," she said with her eyes growing moist, "There most certainly is."
Jake left then and Violet Markham was alone with the man although she was the only one of them aware of it. She sighed and went into her room where the wet and unconscious man lay. First was to get the wet clothes off of him. She peeled off his jacket, unbuckled his gun belts and then unfastened his trousers and peeled them and his boots off as well. He was there in his undergarments now and those were soaked through as well. Through all they had been through and the state in which he had seen her at times, she felt almost wrong in taking that final layer of clothing from him but she had to. He would never dry or warm if she did not. Once he was unclothed, she grabbed her thick quilt that her mother had made for her and tucked it around him leaving his injured arm uncovered. That was the next order of business.
She had been injured when she had first met him, injured and frightened. He had tended her with gentleness that most would never have guessed him capable. He had given her hope when hope seemed meant only for other people. She looked at the arm and saw the cuts were not deep. He had possibly just fallen on the broken bottle. Once the wound was clean and wrapped, she took the time to really look at him. He wasn't quite the man she remembered. That man had been clean shaven and kind faced. This man wore a scowl even in his current unaware state. He wore a long mustache that was probably quite dashing when the rest of his face was free of whiskers. At present he looked as though he hadn't been acquainted with a razor in a long time. His hair was long as she remembered but dirty. She would have to clean it for him once he was feeling better. There was, at this moment, little more she could do for him but wait for him to come around. So she sat in a chair in the corner of her bedroom and waited. At first she took up her embroidery but soon found her thoughts were wandering too much. The thunder was back and all she could think of was that stormy night so many years ago. She had been a silly girl and gotten upset over things that were not important in the grand scheme. She had pushed him, her protector away and had nearly paid for it with her life. But he had not allowed that to happen. He had come after her and he had saved her. She had loved him before but after that her heart had belonged only to him.
Violet had gone away to school and had a few suitors but none of them could match him in her eyes. She knew he would never return her love but then she also knew just as surely that she would never love another. At first she told herself that young men that wanted to court her wouldn't want her once they knew what had happened to her. She had been taken by force by that horrible man that hid in the shadows of the woods. But that wasn't true. Some of the men had gotten close enough that she had come clean and told them that if they courted and married her that they wouldn't be getting an innocent woman. Some had turned from her at that but a couple had said it didn't matter, that it wasn't her fault, that she was just a child when that happened. They had even had sympathy for what she had been through. Their sympathy smacked of pity to her and that was something this man had never offered her. His sympathy had been loving and filled with his own hurt as well. He had never pitied her. He had never treated her as less or as marred by the experience.
Sitting and watching his chest rise and fall she remembered those days. She had once been a fearless girl. She was the one who wanted to try new things, who ventured to talk to the boys that Carrie, her friend at the time, only dared smile at—when she dared even that. Her courage had its price though. She hadn't feared walking the shortcut through the woods alone and in waning light. She should have. There were worse things than her parents being angry over her coming home a few minutes late. What happened in the woods at the hands of the shadow—he still was only the shadow in her mind—that was worse.
Her shame had rivaled her fear when she had been found. Whoever found her could want to hurt her as the shadow had or they could berate her. But they had not. They had been gentle and tender and caring. They had protected her. She smiled at her younger self and how she had talked to them when they weren't there as if they were. This man had known she did that and had thought nothing of it. He had encouraged it. He had been her everything. Violet knew there were no men in shining armor in this land but he was her knight, her champion all the same. That Jake Danvers thought she might be in danger from this man was nearly laughable. She was not the brave soul of her youth but if there was one thing she could trust in, could know in her heart to the end of her days it was that she, of all people, had nothing to fear from James Butler Hickok.
A yawn overtook her and she cast a look to the clock on her wall to see that it was past midnight. He was still sleeping or unconscious. She stood and stretched before slipping out of her dress and underpinnings and pulling her nightshift over her head. He wouldn't see and if he did, it wouldn't be the first time. Of course when he had seen her exposed before he wasn't in a frame to think anything of it. He probably wasn't now either. And she watched him too. His eyes never opened. She grabbed a small afghan from the back of the chair she had been sitting in and walked over to the bed. She laid down atop the quilt fully intending to go to sleep there with the afghan over her. But when she reached to touch him—just to check on him, she told herself—she could feel his skin was still cool to the touch even under the heavy blanket. If his body temperature did not rise, he would never wake up. She knew he would stop at nothing to save her. In fact he had proven that. So she stood and slipped out of the nightshift and then climbed under the quilt and snuggled close to him. It frightened her more than she would have liked to admit. No man's flesh had pressed to hers since she was thirteen years old and it had been forced upon her.
This wasn't about that she reminded herself. It was silly to even dance around the right words in her own mind. She knew all of the names for it by now, of course. Well, maybe not all of them but many. Clinically it was sexual intercourse, romantically it was making love and she even knew a few coarser names for the act as well. But this had nothing to do with relations like that. This was about warming him up and her own body heat was going to prove the most effective for that. She drew closer under the quilt and held him tight to her. There was a time when this was her fondest wish with him. Once she had gotten past being frightened to be touched at all, she dreamt of him touching her. His touch would be so gentle. She worried though that his touch might not be what she imagined. She had kissed him once when he was asleep and he had cautioned her against doing that. He had told her that something like that could work its way into a man's dreams and cause him to act on the dreams and thoughts. A fully aware James Hickok would never harm her but a delirious or even still dreaming one, well, there was no telling what he might do.
Violet closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him as he had once done for her. She pulled him close to her and ran her fingers absently through his long hair. She had always loved his hair and often thought what it might be like to stroke it. Of course in her thoughts it was clean but he needed her how and she could not turn him away for his sad state.
Why this occurred to her, she did not know but without provocation she began singing. It was a song her mother had once sung to her. She rubbed his back and sang until the tears were flowing too hard down her face and into his hair to allow her to sing anymore. Then she just spoke to him.
"It's been a long time, Jimmy," she whispered to him, "I don't even know if you'd want anyone to call you that anymore. When I knew you it was what you preferred but it's been so long. All I ever hear about is Wild Bill anymore. You hated that back then. I still remember asking about it once. You told me that the stories weren't true but you earned the reputation all the same. I didn't understand at the time but I think I do now."
He stirred a little in her arms but did not wake.
"You'll never be Wild Bill to me," she went on, "I could never see you that way. I know who you are even if you don't anymore. I think you still do. You saved me. You told me it would be okay. I didn't believe you and maybe you won't believe me now either but you were right then and I will tell you now it's going to be okay."
She pressed a kiss to his forehead which seemed a bold move but then she knew that she wasn't still thirteen. Somehow seeing him again made her suddenly that scared little girl again. But she wasn't that girl anymore. She had told him that she wouldn't always be thirteen and now she wasn't anymore. If he could ever see her as she had seen him, there wasn't anything standing in their way anymore. The thought made her head swim though maybe that was his proximity to her. That was always enough to make her lightheaded.
She felt his arms wind around her even though he showed no other signs of waking. He gripped her as if frightened.
"It's alright," she cooed at him, "It's me, Violet Markham. You remember me, don't you? Oh maybe you don't. It's alright. I'll remind you once you wake up. I'm sure it wouldn't take much for you to recall how we met. But it's alright. You're going to be just fine now. I don't know how dark it's been for you but it doesn't have to be anymore. We just need to get you warm and then get you some rest and I'm sure everything will be just fine. Just let me hold you like you used to hold me."
His arms tightened and Violet got scared for a second but then relaxed into him.
"Yes, that's alright too," she assured him, "Hold on to me. Hold on. We'll get through this. Whatever it is, we'll get through it."
Violet wasn't sure when they had become a 'we' but somehow they had in that moment and it was all she knew how to say.
"Sleep now, Jimmy," she said softly, "Just sleep. Come morning we'll figuring things out."
She held him closer and allowed her eyes to fall close and she drifted off to sleep.
The man came half awake in the dark of near morning and searched his head for any idea of what had happened. His arm hurt and he was naked but then so was the body pressed tight to him. It surprised him since whiskey never did much for his ability to do a hell of a lot that would necessitate nudity with a woman. Wherever he was, it wasn't some cheap room over a saloon either which meant this was no working girl he was with. He really couldn't remember how he had met up with this woman. Her name was a mystery as well as what she even looked like. But her skin was soft against his and she smelled faintly of flowers. His hand trailed along her face until it came upon her lips. He bent his head and pressed his own lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss and he took advantage of her slightly parted lips to dart his tongue into her mouth. He could tell she was still half asleep even as she returned his kiss so his mind turned to thoughts of how he could wake her. Their unclothed state spoke to how he figured they had tuckered themselves out for sleep in the first place and he decided that would be a right fine way for her to wake up as well. He ran his fingers gently down the curves of her body and then rolled atop her. He could feel every inch of her pressed into him as he used one knee to wedge her legs apart. As he settled his lower half between her legs he felt her tense under him and a strangled sort of cry escape her then and tiny whisper.
"Please don't hurt me."
"I tell you, darlin'. I got more than a couple plans and don't none of them involve anyone getting hurt."
One arm flew to wrap across her breasts while the other tried to push him away.
"Now there ain't no sense in getting shy all of a sudden," he said pinning her shoulders down with his hands and rubbing himself against her a little harder. "We must've already had some good times. Maybe we get a few more before the sun comes up."
He could feel her trying to close her legs and was able to barely make out her whispered words through heavily flowing tears. And the words weren't that hard since there was only one word really. Just 'no' repeated over and over as if it was just one long word.
"Nonononono."
Something about that was so familiar and even if it hadn't been, he would have been stopped cold. With her crying and pleading the way she was, he was quickly losing the physical ability to proceed. He pushed himself up and rested back on his heels only to see her curl into a tiny ball before him. She stayed like that a few seconds until she seemed to realize no one was holding her down anymore and in fact, no one was even touching her. She skittered across the room to the chair in the corner and sat there with her knees pulled tight to her chest. She still repeated the one word as a mantra, as if it would ward off harm.
"I don't know what you're acting like that for. Couldn't've been that bad if I'm still in your bed," he mumbled. He wanted to look at her longer. Maybe if he could then he could figure out who this woman was and why she looked so familiar to him. But he didn't dare such a thing. Instead he wordlessly and without raising his eyes scooted to the end of the bed and held out the afghan for her so she could cover herself. He wasn't sure at first she even saw him but slowly he saw her hand reach out and take the offered blanket and wrap it lightly around her naked form. He could see her head lift as she met his gaze.
Violet looked at the man. She wasn't even sure what to call him. Calling him Jimmy had been so natural when he was out cold but now that his eyes were on her, she could see how much separated this man in front of her from the man she once knew. There were traces of the young man who had set on her porch and talked to her and even who had held her in the night when she was frightened. But then there was a hard man there as well, one she had never met.
"This is the first you've been conscious since you've been here," she said avoiding looking directly at him but hoisting her chin just a touch to let him know that nothing untoward had occurred. She needed him to know that as much as she needed him to not see the moisture threatening to gather in her eyes. "I'll ask you to avert your eyes."
She pointed to her nightshift in explanation. He already had looked away from her but now he turned his body to face away from her so that she could drop the afghan and let her shift slip over her head. Her lips still tingled from his kisses but then she could also feel the weight pressing down on her and it threatened to make her hysterical or maybe even physically ill.
"You may turn around now," she told him, "Thank you. You were very cold when I brought you in and I needed to get your temperature back up. Whatever you thought when you woke, I was merely trying to keep you alive."
She looked everywhere but at him. They were both quiet and neither seemed to know what to say. Finally he decided he needed to break the silence somehow.
"I guess I should introduce myself," he said but then was surprised when she jumped in and began speaking.
"Hickok," she said, "James Butler Hickok. I know who you are. Well, I know who you were, Jimmy. I see that who you are now is different. I guess it's Bill now."
"Jimmy," he said as if trying it on to see if maybe it still fit, "I don't think there's many left who'd call me that. I knew your voice was familiar but it's not the same as when I knew you, is it?"
"Probably not," Violet answered still tight in a ball on the chair in the corner, "I know I look a little different now too."
She jumped up again without explanation and left the room, coming back with a pitcher of water and a glass. She looked scared to be close enough to him to offer the water but something about the defiant set of her jaw as she did struck him as familiar. He knew her alright. He just wasn't sure yet quite how. If his head wasn't still foggy from the drink he might've already figured it out.
"I'm sorry," she said, "Seeing you awake, I almost forgot how badly off you were when I found you."
"Found me?" he asked taking the offered glass and quickly draining it. He was thirsty as hell. "You found me?"
"In the street," she clarified, "Bleeding and unconscious but I knew it was you. I couldn't even see your face but I recognized the guns."
"People who know the guns usually would just as soon walk past and let me die in the street," he muttered.
Violet looked all around the room again, anything to avoid eye contact. Somehow his eyes held even more intensity than they had when he was younger and yet they were so weary too. He was still scarcely five years older than her and yet he looked as though he had lived ten or twenty lifetimes in the few years that she had been off trying to avoid living even one of hers. She still wanted to believe he'd never hurt her, that he'd never be capable of hurting a woman but he was a dangerous man all the same. He was dangerous now in ways she never dreamed he could have become. And before they had met, she had some wild ideas about who he was.
"I've seen you use them for good," she said absently as her eyes dropped to look intently at her hands in her lap. "I've seen you save a life with them."
He closed his eyes and suddenly was hit with the memory. He and Buck riding through the woods looking for a lost girl. They found her, curled as small as she could get and just repeating that one word over and over as if it would save her when it had so obviously failed. She had needed him. And he had come through for her. He had saved her.
"Violet?" he asked, "Violet Markham? It's you, isn't it?"
She only nodded in the flickering lamplight.
Jimmy fought to not be sick. In the one nod of her head she cleared all the whiskey from his. Every word he had spoken since waking in her bed came to him along with everything he had done. He had turned into the shadow of her nightmares, a ghost that no doubt still haunted her every day. He had scared the one person he never wanted to know fear again.
"Oh God," he nearly cried dropping his head into his hands, "Oh Violet, I am so sorry. I didn't know. I really didn't."
"Is this who you are now?" she asked, her ire growing. He could still jump up and hurt her but she had to believe that somewhere inside this callous man was the younger and gentler one she had known. His response told her there might be something to fight for. "You wake up drunk and naked with women so often? I thought I knew you. I thought you were still him. You were my hero, you know. You saved me but more than that, you made me feel like I still had worth. Or I thought it was you. Maybe it was someone else. Someone who doesn't even exist anymore."
Cringing from the venom in her words he studied the quilt covering his lap like he had never seen a quilt before. He'd thought of her from time to time and sometimes he was even able to picture her ready for the dance he had taken her to but most times he saw her blood streaked and exposed thighs and the face beaten so badly as to be unrecognizable just saying the word no over and over. Or he would see her pinned beneath the hulking man as she screamed for him to save her. Sometimes that came to him in a dream except really it was a nightmare because in the dreams he and Cody were not quick enough to save her and he would have to watch her violated and the life strangled out of her before his helpless eyes. He had saved her. He and Cody had—credit where it was due and all. But then he knew he had failed her in many ways too. He dared to look at her now as he had often wondered for the woman she might have become.
"I guess it shouldn't surprise me you grew into a beautiful woman," he said softly, "I always thought you was well on your way. If I hadn't run off like I did, you'd've turned my head soon just as sure as you did all the other boys."
Violet didn't even know what to say. Her head filled with angry words for that woman he had run off with. She knew it had hurt the friends he left behind but also, she was terribly jealous still. At the time it made more sense for him to run off with that woman, or any woman at all. Violet guessed that it hadn't been fair to expect him to wait around while a little girl finished growing up. But then she hadn't felt so much like a little girl then. Things had happened to her that killed the little girl she had been and left a frightened and sometimes bitter young woman in her place. Her life had stopped dead like a watch that needed winding the moment she heard the branch snap behind her in the woods that day. She had been stupid to look to a grown man for hope. But then he had kissed her. To be fair, once he hadn't known he was kissing her but the other time he did. Violet wasn't only angry at that woman for taking him away, she was angry with him for making her think her life was going to be anything but the lonely place it had turned out to be. And his words bit at her as well. There were no boys whose heads were turned by her. There were a couple who thought they could take what someone else had taken from her, had thought her morals loosened by what she had gone through. She had been a freak, a curiosity. Jesse had seen to it that no one was openly mean to her but neither was anyone kind. She ceased to exist. For as much as the shadow haunted her, she had become a ghost herself and haunted everywhere she went.
"You just remembered how much you hate me, didn't you?" he asked, "Bet you're wishing right now you'd left me where you found me. By now I'd be most if not all the way to dead. I don't blame you. I hurt you bad when I left. I hurt near everyone when I left. Couple forgave me, couple didn't. I might've hurt you worst of all. I ain't even going to ask forgiveness. I got no right. I'll tell you I'm sorry 'cause it's the God's honest truth. But I ain't going to hold my breath for you to accept that apology and I sure as hell ain't going to ask for forgiveness."
"I do forgive you," she whispered, "I always did. I was hurt and I was angry but it was me who didn't have the right. What did you need with a kid? You needed a woman. What's more, you needed a woman who wasn't all broken."
"You never was broken," he argued gently, "I never thought for a second you was broken. Nothing as strong as you are could truly break."
Violet once again found herself at a loss for words. For how he had frightened her and how much he had changed, those sounded like Jimmy's words. In fact she was sure he had said something similar to her at one time or another. He had once been so patient with her. Maybe that's all he needed now. But still she had no idea how to answer him, so she stood and headed for the door.
"You need your sleep," she said at last, "I'll be in the front room on the couch if you need anything. Perhaps when you get up you'll feel like a bath. I even think I might have a razor around if you wanted to use one." She stood in the doorway a moment before adding quietly, "Or I could help you with it."
Just before she disappeared from his sight completely, Jimmy called to her.
"Violet, please come over here," he pleaded, "Just for a moment."
She stopped and thought about it a moment before turning and walking toward him. Every step was a struggle to not actually break into a run to get to his side. So long she had waited for him to ask her closer to him; so long it had only been in her dreams. A few minutes earlier and she would have still feared him but she had been right and the man she once knew and trusted was still there.
"You asked something of me once," he began, "I was sitting next to your bed talking to you and you were scared. You had every right to be scared and you were. And then you asked something of me. You were only thirteen years old and I knew a thousand and one reasons I should say no to you but then you looked at me so helpless and that one look was all the reason I needed to do what you asked. Do you remember what you asked of me?"
Her cheeks burned crimson as she nodded. There was no way she would ever forget. She had asked him to hold her. To lie down next to her and hold her. He had and it had been prefect until she messed it up by kissing him. Everything went wrong after that.
"Violet," he went on softly, "I ain't got near the reason to be scared that you had but I am scared. I think I been scared my whole life of one thing or another. No man'll ever hear me say that and I doubt any woman but you would either. I'm asking of you right now what you asked of me that night. I'm just asking you to hold me, nothing more. I swear it. After what I done earlier, I'd understand if the answer's no, but I have to ask."
His eyes pleaded with her to give in to this one request. She went over to the night stand and checked to see if his undergarments were dry and they were.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd put this back on first, Jimmy."
She could see the effect on him of her choice to call him Jimmy. It meant something to him. Maybe it meant almost as much to him as it did to her.
He grabbed the garment from her and she could see the quilt move as he slid his legs into it. He hadn't even begun to work his arms into the top half when she climbed into the bed. She held her arms to him and they leaned back onto the mattress together, their arms around each other.
"It'll be alright," she assured him kissing his forehead before they both allowed sleep to overtake them. She felt him relax against her first and for the first time in longer than she cared to think on she felt strong. When the terrible things had happened the lone bright spot was the friendships she had made with Jimmy and his fellow riders. Ike had called her a survivor. Buck had confirmed it. He said it spoke to strength that carried her beyond being a victim. She had spent most of the years since feeling like a victim and even lamenting that she hadn't been one of the other victims. They had all been killed and didn't have to wake up every day to the hurt and the shame and the loneliness. Wherever they were had to be better than where she was. She thought a lot in those first few years about ending it all. She could see the knife or the broken glass or the razor piercing her skin and all of her pain seeping out through her wrists never to torment her again. After a while she just became a shadow herself. Much like the man who had taken her life and left her to keep walking through it. Here in the darkness she held the man who had kept that shadow from stilling her heart and she knew she was his comfort, she was the one with the power to save him. She smiled through the tears that ran into his hair and closed her eyes seeking and finding sleep.
Violet woke before Jimmy and allowed herself a moment to delight in waking in his arms. It was something she always wanted and she knew enough of the man he had become to know this was probably the only chance she would have at it. But then she needed to get up. She headed for the kitchen to begin breakfast and hauled the tub into the front room where she could begin to ready it for him to clean himself up a little. She was over halfway done readying his bath when she saw him appear in the doorway of the bedroom. He looked shaky and she wondered how he was keeping himself upright.
"Your bath is almost ready," she said quickly, "I'm sure you'll feel better once you're clean and get a hot meal in you."
Once the bath was ready, Jimmy stripped off his long johns and climbed in. He felt the blush at Violet seeing him undress but then he knew she had to have been the one who undressed him the night before. It wasn't that he was a prude and he'd been undressed before and with women but this was Violet and that seemed different somehow. But soon he was submerged in the hot water and it did feel good.
Violet knelt beside the tub and began to wash his hair. He let his eyes fall closed as her fingers massaged his scalp. His mind drifted to when she had been so much younger and had concerned herself with him even through her blackened eyes and broken nose. He had before seen only the differences between the girl she had been and the woman she had become but now he saw all that was the same. She rinsed the soap from his hair and then drew her fingers through it and rinsed again careful to keep both water and soap from his eyes. As she tilted his head back, his eyes met hers and he felt something he hadn't allowed before. It was something he hadn't felt in a very long time and never this strong. The startled expression that momentarily crossed her face only to be quickly replaced with a comforting smile told him she felt it to. Once his hair was cleaned, she wordlessly pushed him to lean forward and scrubbed his back. Her hands were firm but gentle and she even set the sponge down and just worked the tired muscles of his shoulders. Then she handed him the sponge to finish washing himself.
She stood and looked around the room a moment as if collecting her thoughts from each corner.
"Your breakfast is in the oven keeping warm," she said, "Be careful and don't burn yourself on the plate. I have to run out and get some things—clothes for you among them."
"I ain't got money for…" he began, "I'll find a way to…"
His voice trailed away ashamed that he had nothing to offer her. But she waved off his protestations and continued as if he hadn't interrupted.
"There's a towel there you can wrap yourself in until I get back. And you might want to get that razor sharp too. I'll see about finding your face when I come back. You're shaking so bad I'd appreciate if you didn't try to shave yourself."
Jimmy sat there dumbfounded. This was not the Violet he had known. Though he thought perhaps this was one that covered the hurt that one had been subjected to. He finished his bath and dried off before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading into the kitchen to search out the breakfast she said was waiting for him. Using another towel to protect his hands, he pulled the plate out of the oven to find bacon and biscuits and eggs. Violet always was a good cook. He poured himself a cup of coffee as well and sat down to eat while he waited for her return.
He finished eating, washed the few dishes there were and then set to sharpening the razor. She was right, he was shaking. Probably that had to do with the amount he drank the night before. He had to stop doing that. Sure most men backed down at the sight of the Colts and his glare but eventually someone wouldn't and he would have to draw and the way he was going, he would be as good as dead before he even got his hands on the weapons.
He heard the front door open and froze for a minute. He knew it was a silly thought but what if she didn't live here alone. What if that wasn't her coming through the door.
"Jimmy," she called out and he released the breath he had been holding, "Jimmy, I'm home. Where are you?"
"In here," he called back and soon she was peeking through the doorway at him.
"You look better," she remarked.
"I'm sure I smell better too," he said taking the packages from her that contained new clothing. "So did you move here to be closer to your beau or something?"
Violet laughed at him in spite of herself and her nervousness.
"Are you fishing to try to find if I have someone?"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"I don't," she said simply, "What happened, what I went through, that's something that sticks and I guess it made me stuck too. I don't have anything inside me to offer a beau or a husband for that matter. I became a teacher because no one bats an eye at an old spinster teacher."
"Vi, you're hardly an old lady," he protested.
"Old enough that it raises eyebrows that I'm not married."
"You shouldn't have taken me in," he said, "I don't think even a town like this one'll want you teaching their young 'uns once the talk gets around about how you brought a man like me into your home."
"There are towns all over, Jimmy," she said and her use of his old nickname cut into him with its reminder of how far he had strayed from being that young man. "Every town needs a teacher. Finding work won't be hard. You saved my life once. I couldn't leave you in the gutter."
"Your life was worth saving," he remarked, "Mine ain't no more."
"Maybe mine was before…well, just before," she said sadly, "I'm afraid there's not much of redeeming quality to it anymore."
Jimmy was suddenly taken aback at the raw honesty of her words right then and then his heart broke as he saw her put her shoulders back and lift her head.
"Come on and sit here at the table. I'll see if I can find the man beneath the whiskers. I'm going to hazard a guess that you want the mustache. I'm sure it's quite dashing when you're all cleaned up."
She kept talking as if that was going to make him un-hear what she had said before. He let it drop for the time being and sat down at the kitchen table, still only in a towel and leaned his head back into her as she lathered his face and began to shave away close to a week's worth of stubble. He allowed her to shift his head this way and that and hold it against her bosom which he tried not to think about a great deal. Somewhere in his mind, she was still thirteen years old and thinking about her breasts was wrong, never mind how he had grabbed at them the night before. He was ashamed to have acted as he had. She knew Jimmy, a man who had worth and integrity. He was a man with principles and ideals. Last night she met Bill, Wild Bill. Bill had no ideals, few principles and his integrity was hanging by a thread. Of all the people in the world he wanted to keep safe from Bill, Violet would have to top that list. She should never know the kind of man he had become. But she did know now and a part of him wanted to slink away but it was too late. Even if he left right then, her memories of him would be of the way he treated her last night. She had been frightened and he had still tried to cajole her into going along with him.
"Violet," he began wondering how wise this was with her working along his neck, "I need to apologize again…for last night."
She stiffened at the reminder and the blade stopped against his neck. He heard the whimper and barely dared to breathe.
There was no other sound from her but the blade began to once again scrape against his skin. A short while later she placed a towel in his hands.
"I'll lay your clothes out on the bed for you," she said as if she was a million miles from him. "I'll be outside if you need me. I have to, uh, water my flowers."
He could have called her on the fact that after the soaking rain of the night before that her flowers wouldn't need watering for days if not weeks.
Violet collapsed against the door once she got outside. As she had been shaving his face she allowed herself to think about a future. She could feel the trust in the way he rested against her. But then he had brought up the night before when he had tried to…to…she couldn't even think the words to describe the thing he tried to do. She had been scared and begged him to not hurt her and he had pinned her down. He had turned into the shadow and she was still clinging to her childish dreams of him being with her. He was never meant to be hers. He was too old before and now he was just too different. She called him Jimmy but Jimmy wasn't there anymore. She kicked herself for not being able to come up with anything better than the flower excuse. He would see through that for sure. But she had to get out of there and now that she was outside all she could do was sit on her back steps and cry.
Jimmy wiped off his face and looked in a mirror to see that she had given him a right good shave. He needed to find some scissors to trim the mustache a little. He liked wearing it long but not quite this long. Digging around in a drawer in her kitchen he found what he needed and made the needed modifications to his mustache. He then went into the bedroom to see new clothes laid out across the quilt on the bed. He first pulled on the new set of long johns and then the rest. He checked himself out in the mirror before heading to the back door of the house to find Violet and maybe find out why she had lied to him although he thought he probably did know. There was nothing he could think of to make it better. He'd never had anything to offer her but himself and in the past that had been enough to help her. He knew it wasn't anymore because who he was just wasn't worthy of her anymore. He wasn't worthy of her trust. He had no right to try to comfort her anymore. Whether he did or not, he didn't see anyone else around to see to her and she needed someone to look after her.
Sighing he turned the knob on the back door and was greeted by the sight of her sitting on the steps with her face in her hands. She was sobbing.
"Do you want me to go?" he asked, "I ain't brought nothing but tears to you since you took me in. You had enough of those. I'll go." He turned to leave and then paused. "I'll send money to pay you back for the clothes."
His hand barely rested on the knob when she spoke, freezing him where he stood.
"Don't go," she said softly, "I…I need to know…I need to see."
"See what?" he asked or rather implored of her, "Haven't you seen enough? I broke my promises before. I hurt you when I said I'd never let anyone hurt you again. I stagger back into your life you been trying to put back together and I hurt you again. I make you think of what he did. That was it, wasn't it? I made you think of that, right?"
"I need to see if Wild Bill is all there is," she said, "I need to see if my old friend Jimmy is still there."
"I wish I could answer that for you, Violet," he said looking at her tear stained face and feeling his heart break again for her.
"You can't though. It's something I have to see for myself."
Jimmy leaned back and half sat on the rail of the back porch and thought for a moment.
"I don't suppose you'd like to go for a walk with me, would you, Miss Markham?" he asked.
"Have we ceased being friends, Mr. Hickok?" she asked as prim and proper as she could.
He just stared blankly at her.
"When we were friends, I was Violet," she explained, "I can draw no other conclusion than we are no longer friends."
"I ain't rightly sure," he answered, "I know I'd like to still call you friend and think I'm yours but I don't think it's up to me."
"Don't ever call me Miss Markham again," she said flatly, "I may not know who you are anymore but I'm not sure I could bear it if we weren't friends anymore."
Jimmy leaned back and pondered for a moment.
"So how about that walk, Violet?" he asked.
"I think a stroll would be lovely," she said and her smile seemed genuine to him so he returned it.
They went in the house and Violet grabbed her bonnet and a shawl and then looked over at the man whose true identity she was still trying to ascertain. Her brow furrowed as she noticed the lack of accessories around his hips.
"I didn't think you'd want me to wear them," he explained.
"I've never had anything against them," she told him, "I always thought you were more comfortable with them. They were Jimmy's before they were Wild Bill's."
He smiled sheepishly at her and went into the bedroom and retrieved the belts, fastening them around his hips as he walked out. He offered his arm and she took it with a smile as they set out for their walk.
They walked in silence for a while before Jimmy posed a question.
"So you never had a sweetheart?" he asked in disbelief, "Not even one?"
"I had a few," she admitted, "Once I left Rock Creek. I was away at school and no one there knew about what had happened."
"The boys in Rock Creek thought you were pretty," he protested.
"Maybe they did and maybe they didn't but none of them really wanted any part of me. I wasn't for marrying after what happened and what they did want, I didn't."
"Now why wouldn't you be for marrying?" he asked, "It's not like anyone in Rock Creek was all that special and nothing that happened was your fault."
"They all thought it was," she told him, "They stopped saying it to my face after Jesse beat the tar out of one or another of them. They never stopped thinking it or saying it behind my back."
Jimmy placed his hand over hers as it rested on the crook of his elbow and the steam which had seemed to go out of her with the memory of going back to the schoolhouse after her ordeal came back. She straightened up and continued her story.
"I went east to school," she went on, "And no one knew me. I thought at first I could create myself and become whatever I wanted. I tried. I really did. A few boys asked after me and I tried to be the sweet and charming girl but then all I could see was what they would want from me. I got past it after a while and really tried to get close to a young man. There was one who seemed nice and I thought he would maybe be alright. I even let him kiss me and it wasn't scary like I thought it would be. He was sort of sweet. Chase was his name. Chase Turner. I got the nerve to tell him what had happened. I felt I owed it to him. I knew he wanted to ask for my hand and I knew eventually that would lead to a wedding night and he would know then anyway. He was a good man and deserved to know what he was getting. He couldn't see me the same after that. It was over."
"That's one young man," Jimmy said, "You didn't swear off of men entirely just because of one."
"No, I didn't," she told him, "There was Josiah and then there was Matthew and I can't forget about Bradley either. Brad was like Chase. Josiah and Matt knew it wasn't my fault but the pity they looked at me with…oh, I couldn't spend every day of my life facing that pity. I wake every morning remembering what happened. I live that nightmare every night in my dreams as it is. Every minute of every day with that pity staring back at me. I'd rather be alone than have that."
"So you gave up?" he asked, "The Violet I knew wasn't no quitter."
"Well, you didn't exactly stick around to keep in the know, now did you?" she snapped and he recoiled at her tone.
"I guess I deserved that," he said quietly.
"You think?"
He wasn't sure how to respond to her open hostility toward him although he did indeed deserve it. He deserved that and worse. She'd never be alright unless she let this anger out. She never did when she was younger and he could see she still hadn't. They were past the town and walking among a stand of trees.
"Yeah, I think," he said, "I think I'm not the only person you're mad at but I think I'm real good for a start and I'm right here. Go ahead. Tell me exactly what you think of me."
Violet looked to try to compose herself and paste a smile on her face but then looked at him and thought better of it.
"I think you're a selfish child!" she yelled, "I think you pretend those guns make you brave but they only give you something to hide behind. I think you talk so nice about what family and friendship means but then you run from it when you have to put something of yourself on the line!"
"You're right," he said. Nothing she told him was easy to hear but it was the truth and he needed to hear it as much as she needed to say it.
"I'm not finished," she growled, "You're a liar. You never kept one promise to me! I was a little girl and I was scared and I believed you and you lied to me. You ran off with that woman that got your friend killed and hid behind this Wild Bill! You always told me the Wild Bill stories were lies but you're just fine with them now, aren't you? You're a brute too. I begged you not to hurt me and you were going to…to…"
She was crying and he reached out and pulled her to him.
"It's alright," he said rubbing her back.
"No," she cried into his chest, "It's not alright. Don't you see? It'll never be alright! I told you that once and you lied and said I'd be okay again someday. I never will. I'll never look in a mirror and not see what he did to me. I check my door locks at least twenty times every night before I go to bed and even then I wake up half a dozen times a night to check them again. I'm not alright and I never will be. Stop lying to me!"
"Did you check your locks last night?" he asked her plainly, "Did you wake up worried about them?"
She raised her head from her hands and contemplated his words. Then she furrowed her brow.
"No I didn't," she answered, "I didn't even think about it."
"Of course you didn't," he smirked at her, "You let the danger inside. You didn't need to worry about it breaking in."
Violet allowed a laugh although she knew the subject was far from dropped. She wondered if he understood what it sounded like he had said and if he did she further wondered if he knew what that would do to her. She opted to address that later.
"How could a woman fear intruders with Wild Bill Hickok in her bed?"
He squeezed his arm around her. Perhaps she had understood him and perhaps she had not but he would leave her no doubt in time. They walked back toward her house only to be stopped along the boardwalk by the sheriff. The man was putting on a brave face but few truly felt good about facing down the man with the matching Colts.
"I think it's time you unhanded our schoolteacher, Hickok," the sheriff stated with all the authority he could muster.
Jimmy looked down at his arm which was actually at his side with both of Violet's wrapped around it.
"I believe if you would look again, sheriff," he said as politely as he could, "You will see that I do not have a hand on your schoolteacher. She has got me in her grasp. Although I do not require assistance from you or anyone else as I'll not be requesting that she unhand me."
"Step away from the lady, Hickok!"
Jimmy opened his mouth to argue the point further but then Violet spoke up.
"Sheriff," she said sweetly, "Mr. Hickok and I are old childhood friends. We are just having a stroll while we catch up and reminisce about old times. If you don't mind, I believe I have had quite enough sun for a while. Mr. Hickok is being kind enough to escort me home so that I might rest in the shade."
"If you're sure you're okay, Miss Markham," the sheriff said looking visibly deflated.
"I assure you that I am in very good and safe hands, Sheriff."
The sheriff stepped aside and allowed them to pass but he did not look happy about it.
"He's in love with you," Jimmy said after they had walked a little way more down the boardwalk.
"He'd have pity for my plight too," she sighed, "I don't need it. I already told you that."
"I just hope you're not too attached to this town," he remarked, "Shooting him down like that in favor of me. I'd be surprised if they wait until morning before organizing a committee to knock on your door and tell you that you aren't welcome to stay and teach their children anymore."
"This is a ghastly little town," she sniffed, "I won't miss it in the least."
"Where will you go?"
"I haven't sorted that out yet," she told him, "But I'm not worried."
They arrived back at her house and she went into the kitchen to begin preparing something for them to eat. To her surprise Jimmy followed her in and asked what he could do to help.
"Sit down and stay out of my way," she said.
"I can cook some," he informed her, "I guess someday you'll have to let me."
Violet stayed quiet. A man like the one in her kitchen talking about someday was not something she felt she could take seriously. This was not a man who talked of somedays. This was a man who thought nothing of waking in the bed of a woman he did not know. She tried to concentrate on chopping up potatoes but found she could not focus for the moisture in her eyes. Violet put the knife down a moment and placed her fingers on her forehead trying to think straight but before she could form a single thought there were hands on her shoulders spinning her around. A finger under her chin tilted her head upward to look into those golden eyes that seemed on fire.
"I don't know if this helps my case or not, Violet," he began in a near growl, "But I been trying to figure on your question. I don't know how much of Jimmy is left but I'd like to find whatever's there. I don't want Bill anymore. He scared you and anyone who scares you can't be part of my life. You told me once, years ago, that you loved me. I told you I couldn't even think of such thoughts because of your age. I shouldn't've but I think a part of me was in love with you even if I couldn't admit such a thing at the time—even to myself. You reminded me then that you wouldn't always be thirteen. You sure the hell ain't thirteen no more. There ain't nothing wrong with saying this out loud now. I love you Violet. I do. You're right about everything you said before. I'm a coward and a liar and a selfish child. I don't want to be but that's what I've been. I don't know for sure I can change those things but I know I want to. And I know that right now, unless you do something really quick to stop me that I am going to kiss you Violet. I am going to kiss you for real."
He stared into her eyes a moment before lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss began tenderly but soon deepened and spoke of passion and maybe even forever or as close to it as he figured he could ponder on.
When they parted Violet looked up at him trying to catch her breath. Jimmy braced himself for a slap or for her tears but neither came.
"I figure I'll leave town tomorrow," she said as if he had not uttered his speech and they had not shared a passionate kiss. "Whether or not they have come to drive me out of town, it would only be a matter of time. Will you be coming with me, Jimmy?"
"You ain't likely to find a job anywhere with a man like me in your company," he reminded her, "Though I'd love nothing more than to be with you."
"I know a place where you'd be a benefit really," she told him, "I'd be sure to get the job if you were with me. It seems this town is in need of some law enforcement as well as a teacher. And they already know you. If you're serious about how you said you feel, that is."
She looked away as if she had overstepped and he brought her gaze back to him and stared deep into her eyes.
"I never been so serious," he said, "I want to make promises and keep 'em this time. I meant to keep 'em before but I was too stupid to see…well, just to see. I want to know you're sleeping enough and I don't want you checking your locks. I want you to live your life like you ought to've been all along. I want you to know a man can love you without pitying you. I want to show you someday that a man's touch don't need to mean fear and hurt and I want to give you kisses until that ghost that's been dogging you all this time up and runs off. He can't exist in love. Fear and hate and anger are his homes but love will run him right off."
She offered him a smile then and lifted her hand to stroke the side of his face.
"I never stopped loving you, you know. How long can I have you?"
She didn't want to ask but she had to. It wouldn't change anything but she had to be able to prepare for when he would eventually leave.
"Forever," he vowed, "You've always had me even when I wasn't there. I never stopped thinking about you. You were the only hope I had that there was anything good to fight the bad in the world."
"Forever," she repeated as if trying to believe it.
"Yeah, forever," he confirmed, "Now where is this magical place we're setting off for tomorrow?"
"It's hardly magical. It's Rock Creek," she looked up at him smiling like he hadn't seen since the night he took her to the town dance after all the unpleasantness with the shadow. This smile was even better because he could see the spectre of that time fleeing her and leaving behind the woman that was meant to be there all along. "Will you hold me, Jimmy? Just hold me and tell me it's going to be alright. I'll believe you this time. I will."
He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her tight to him.
"It's going to be alright. I promise we'll be alright."
So this story was the fault of one Marcus Mumford whose words rarely fail to inspire me to one extent or another. I hope this is a good closure for this pair although I think there is one more story left to write about them. I thank you for letting me have your attention for a little while.-J
Ghosts That We Knew – Mumford and Sons
You saw my pain, washed out in the rain
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins
But you saw no fault no crack in my heart
And you kneel beside my hope torn apart
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you
And we'll live a long life
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
So lead me back
Turn south from that place
And close my eyes from my recent disgrace
Cause you know my call
We'll share my all
Now children come and they will hear me roar
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
But hold me still bury my heart on the cold
And hold me still bury my heart on the cold
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold on as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you
And we'll live a long life