Post 3.10 - Spoilers for "Get Behind the Mule"
She was trying too hard, but it made him smile. From the thin slip she had worn the night before, to folding his shirt so that it didn't wrinkle, Naomi's overt consideration for Cullen would have borderlined annoying if it wasn't so damn cute. She hadn't thrown herself into his arms or forced a kiss and he was grateful for that. When her breathing had slowed and was steady, he had stealthily splayed his hand over her child…his child. A small bump, barely detectable, made his eyes sting with tears for his buried son. A quick glance up at Naomi's sleeping face and Cullen realized that it could've been so much worse than this girl. He had truly meant it when he had told her that he wouldn't abandon her and the babe. A flicker of hope sparked as Cullen pulled his hand back and Naomi sighed before she rolled towards him. He would get them out from under her father and the Swede. Come hell or high water, they would be leaving.
Panic was his first thought when he saw that Naomi wasn't in bed, until he shifted and saw that her dress was also missing. He stretched and groaned after seeing his own attire on the chair. Knowing the first step was to gain trust, he pulled on the rough clothing, longing for his gun belt. If the Swede could gain their trust, Cullen knew he could work for it. He had to find the chink in their armor, the way to escape, before he could start to plan the escape. Even if it was without Naomi, he'd take his child and have Eva or Ruth help raise it.
He couldn't believe that Naomi had pulled out the chair for him, like she was a servant. Cullen wanted to win her trust and thought that Southern hospitality would be the quickest route. If he was put in the position to have to take their child, he at least needed her trust to be close to the child. "We'll work it out together." Maybe she would come with him to the railroad. Hell, she had no problems marrying him.
Mules and a field felt the same as the shackles that had been removed the day before and Cullen knew that it was the Swede's way of controlling his personal hell on earth. But Cullen put his back into it and didn't show his distain of the task. The two men with him were his guards, not his help, and their silent and angry stares didn't make Cullen feel any more welcome, considering he was now their "brother." The sight of Naomi with the bucket of water over her bulging belly was a welcome sight from the demon perched on the white horse next to her.
After the Swede took the ladle and dumped the water on the ground, effectively cutting off Cullen's reprieve, Cullen knew that Thor Gunderson had him in an invisible noose and was just waiting for him to hang himself. It would never happen. If that bastard could survive the fall from the bridge, a little Mormon fort would be like a walk down the rails; smooth and straight until a spur came and he made the signal change at the last minute. Cullen stared back at the white haired, phony preacher man. This was far from over and he'd kill that man again. But this time, it would be with unquestionable certainty. With a flick of the reins, he turned the mules back around.