Title: The Ten Times Waverly Earp was Definitely NOT on a Date with Nicole Haught

Author / Date of Inception: Kimberly21570 / May 2016

Fandom: Wynonna Earp

Pairing: Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught—WayHaught

Synopsis: This WayHaught story follows Waverly and Nicole's journey back in time as they reflect upon the moments they've shared together—the moments that led to Waverly's self-discovery, and ultimately drew her into Nicole's arms. Some moments are light and fun, and others, dark and heavy, because it is the coalescence of those shared experiences that leads us to fall in love.

Chapter Summary: Chapter 7 takes us to Gus's place for a horseback riding, a cookout and game night with the family… and a bonfire where more than just the logs were aflame. It's another rather long one—about 36 pages total this time, so once again, grab a drink and a snack, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Rating: Chapter 7 is rated PG-13 for a bit of coarse language and sexual innuendo. This chapter continues us on that slow burn toward NC-17. Anyone who is familiar with my writing knows it's well worth the wait. My theory on ratings is… if I wouldn't want my 16-year-old niece to read it, it gets an R or NC-17 rating; otherwise, it's usually gonna be PG-13.

Disclaimer: The characters of Waverly, Wynonna, Willa, and Ward Earp, Nicole Haught, John Henry "Doc" Holliday, Deputy Marshal Xavier Dolls, Gus and Curtis McCready, Sheriff Randy Nedley, and washed-up rodeo clown Champ Hardy, as well as the Shorty's Saloon, the Black Badge Division offices, the Earp Homestead settings are owned by creator Beau Smith, NBCUniversal, the Syfy Channel, and SEVEN24 Films IDW Entertainment. The novel Silas Marner: The Weaver of Raveloe by George Eliot, originally published in the United Kingdom in 1861 by William Blackwood and Sons Publishing, is considered to be in the public domain. Rights to the board Game Monopoly® belong to Hasbro. Rights to the board game Life® belong to Milton Bradley. Additionally, this chapter contains references to several classic Country music songs. Ownership rights are as follows:

Coal Miner's Daughter, written and recorded by Loretta Lynn/Peermusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Country, When Country Wasn't Cool, recorded by Barbara Mandrell, composers Dennis W. Morgan & Rhonda Kye Fleming/Universal Music Publishing Group.

Crazy recorded by Patsy Cline, composer Willie Nelson/Sony/ATV Music Publishing, LLC.

Galveston, recorded by Glen Campbell, composer Jimmy L. Webb/Sony/ATV Music Publishing, LLC.

Here You Come Again, recorded by Dolly Parton, Composers Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil/Sony/ATV Music Publishing, LLC.

I Walk the Line, written and recorded by Johnny Cash/Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., and BMG Rights Management US, LLC. Thanks to Louhaught for the song suggestion!

Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys, recorded by Willie Nelson & Waylon Jennings, composers Ed Bruce & Patsy Bruce/Sony/ATV Music Publishing, LLC.

Smoky Mountain Rain recorded by Ronnie Milsap, composers Dennis W. Morgan & Rhonda Kye Fleming/Universal Music Publishing Group.

The Closer You Get recorded by Alabama, composers Mark Eugene Gray and James Pennington/Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group.

No copyright infringement intended with regard to any of the aforementioned persons or entities.

With the exception of brief references to Episode 1.09, Bury Me with My Guns On, which aired on 5.27.2016, the story content and dialogue in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

I fully admit that I am not knowledgeable when it comes to horses and their care. I probably know just enough to be dangerous. I have ridden in the past, but that was eons ago when, as a young teenager, I rode with my dad on the trails at the ranch where we used to camp during the summertime. The ranch hands did all the work involved in saddling/bridling and caring for the horses, and as such, I know virtually nothing of the actual work that goes into it. That said, any information regarding horses and/or their care has been garnered via research, and is, thus, subject to errors in my understanding. For those who do know, feel free to correct me where I am wrong. I'm always open to learning new things. Nowadays, I confine my admiration for these beautiful, powerful creatures to writing about them, and I do hope that I've managed to do them justice.

There's no beta on this, since I'm just writing it for fun, so any and all mistakes are my own. If you see anything major, I'd appreciate the heads-up so I can correct it. Thank you again for all the follows, favorites, kudos, and comments. Your interest in this story is deeply appreciated, and I honestly feel overwhelmed—in the best possible way—by your words of support and encouragement with regard to my work. I've been writing for more than 15 years, and I have to say, the compliments I've read from you all regarding this story continue to be some of the most generous I've ever received. I lack words to express how much that means to me, but I will always endeavor to respond personally to each comment. In the meantime, thank you from the bottom of my WayHaught-loving Earper heart.

All that said, please accept my sincere apologies for keeping y'all waiting so long. I'll do my best to update more quickly next time. I've received a number of messages and comments from you all, checking in on me. It is my intention to respond to each of you personally, but I wanted to say thank you publicly for your kindness and concern. I appreciate it more than you know.

I hope y'all enjoy Chapter 7—Whispers and Wildfire…

Kim

The Ten Times Waverly Earp was Definitely NOT on a Date with Nicole Haught

"'Just friends,' huh?

Well, 'just friends' don't steal secret glances at each other.

'Just friends' don't get jealous when the other one talks about someone else.

'Just friends' don't get butterflies from each other.

'Just friends don't hold each other like that.

'Just friends?'

Yeah, right."

— imjust-a-girl / Tumblr

Chapter 7 – Whispers and Wildfire:

Friday, May 27, 2016… Ghost River County Municipal Offices—3:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Maybe just friends, Nicole thought, sighing internally as she flashed back to the argument with Waverly that morning. She could hear Waverly's voice, and despite the timid, almost regretful tone, the sting of those words still burned her, heart and soul.

Maybe just friends? Was she fucking serious? How could she even say those words with a straight face? Nicole silently ranted. After everything we've shared.

Waverly Earp was a smart woman, and she knew this thing between them went far deeper than just friendship. If ever Nicole had doubted that beforehand, she'd certainly been left with no doubts after that day spent with her at Gus's. Lord, have mercy, she thought; nearly laughing at the absurdities as she recalled all that had transpired that day—or rather that evening, in particular. And in that moment, she swore, not for the first time, that Waverly Earp—intelligent, awkward, charming, amusing, beautiful, exasperating Waverly Earp—would most certainly be the death of her.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—9:30 a.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Glancing out through oak-paned windows of the French doors in Gus's kitchen overlooking the back porch and beyond, Nicole watched Waverly out in the paddock with the horses. Dressed in a pair of those familiar dark denim jeans, still high-waisted, but just a bit looser than normal, and a lightweight burgundy sweater that brought a touch of color to her cheeks, those well-worn cowboy boots, and a sleek, short-waisted brown suede-leather jacket, her long, thick honey-colored locks falling in loose waves around her face, she was the picture of beauty and elegance as she finished brushing Wildfire out in preparation for saddling her up.

Gently, she tousled that thick chestnut forelock at the top of Wildfire's head, and then smoothed a hand along the length of her face, over the patch of white hair on the horse's forehead, between those huge, expressive brown eyes. Nicole could tell by the attentiveness of the horse's ears, and the movement of Waverly's head and shoulders, that Waverly was talking animatedly to her as she rubbed the patch with affection. She couldn't help but wonder what Waverly was saying; though she knew that whatever the content, the sound of her voice was a harmonious medley of sexy and sweet.

Taking a sip from the mug of coffee she held in her right hand, Nicole smiled softly to herself as she remembered Waverly telling her all about Wildfire—a gift from Gus and Uncle Curtis for her thirteenth birthday. It was during that first night at Shorty's—the one where Waverly had offered her coffee and conversation, and they'd ended up talking all night long—that they discovered their mutual love of horses.

She'd teased her about naming her horse after a cheesy 70s song, only to be quickly put in her place when Waverly announced that the name actually came from the George Eliot classic, Silas Marner—a book, Nicole learned, Waverly had read a full three grade-levels ahead of her peers. To say she'd been impressed would've amounted to far more than a simple understatement. But in the moment, Nicole remembered her amusement at the fierceness in Waverly's expression as she rightfully put Nicole in her place.

Nicole had laughed even harder at the fieriness in Waverly's eyes, as they turned darker—from that usual soft green to an almost coppery color, with tiny flecks of green and gold—when that fire was ignited inside her. The harder Nicole laughed, the hotter that fire burned, until finally, Waverly was laughing too. As she looked back on it now, she realized that in that moment, Waverly Earp had stolen the first little piece of her heart. And now, she practically owned the whole damned thing.

It was on the heels of that memory that Gus's voice drew her back to the present.

"She's a handful, Nicole," Gus warned, as she cubed fresh chicken breast and steak to be marinated for a few hours, and then skewered for the grill. Having prepped the desserts, potato salad, and fusilli last night, she had the grill heating for the corn, zucchini, and onions to be used in the grilled vegetable pasta salad, and the ingredients for baked beans sat at the far edge of the center island, awaiting her attention, as well.

Turning her attention back to Gus, an auburn eyebrow lifted, as she moved back toward the countertop where Gus was working. "Who?" Nicole questioned with a grin. "Waverly… or Wildfire?"

Gus chuckled, recalling their previous conversation about fiery women and horses, as she dropped the last of the chicken into the marinade, ensuring the pieces were all fully covered. "Both, actually," she said, scrubbing her hands under the running faucet with soap and water.

Nicole laughed, as she set her coffee mug on the counter. "Thanks for the coffee, Gus. And for the warning. I'll definitely take it under advisement," she grinned, heading back toward the French doors.

"Nicole—"

The way Gus said her name, it was more like summons, and Nicole turned toward her, expectantly. "Yes, ma'am?"

Wiping her hands on a charcoal colored kitchen towel, Gus rounded the edge of the center island where she worked, nearing Nicole. "I don't need to ask 'bout your intentions where Waverly is concerned," she said forthrightly. "Truth is written all over your face any time you look at her."

A faint smile flickered across Nicole's lips, and her cheeks flushed slightly. "It's that obvious?"

"Only to those payin' attention," Gus assured with a grin.

Nicole nodded, but the expression on her face told Gus that something was amiss.

"What's troublin' ya?" Gus queried.

Turning to look out the door again, Nicole shoved her hands into the front pockets of her faded black jeans. Her gaze fell immediately to Waverly, as it always seemed to do. "In all honesty, Gus, I think this conversation is a bit premature," she declared.

"What makes you say that?" Gus inquired. She crossed her arms, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, as she studied the young officer with keen interest.

"My intentions don't really matter all that much at this point, because Waverly is still involved with Champ," Nicole pointed out, placing the emphasis on the owner of said intentions.

"Ah…" Gus sighed. Unfurling her arms, she planted her hands on her hips. Her expression turned contemplative. "Well, I wouldn't be spendin' too much time worryin' yourself 'bout that."

"Why not?" Nicole sounded unconvinced.

"Because I don't imagine that'll be the case for too much longer," Gus presumed.

That caught Nicole's attention, and she turned to look at her, eyebrows lifted. "Yeah? What makes you think that?"

Gus shrugged. "Champ wasn't at our family bowlin' night last week, and… he's not here today," she pointed out. "But you are, at her invitation. I'd say that's mighty tellin'."

"She didn't invite him?"

"Not to either event," Gus answered with a shake of her head.

"Guess that is kinda tellin'," Nicole agreed. Tamping down the surge of excitement that rushed through her at the mere thought of it, she forced herself to remember that it was merely an observation, not a guarantee of anything.

"Does she know how you feel, Nicole?" Gus asked forthrightly. "I mean, have you actually told her?"

Nicole smiled faintly. Gus didn't pull any punches. She liked that about her. "I've been honest with 'er from the start," she answered. "But I would never try to push her into somethin' she's not ready for, or… that she doesn't want. Ball's in her court," she shrugged. "It has to be, 'cause… I don't wanna do anything to lose her, Gus; even if it means we'll never be more than friends."

Though neither of them acknowledged it aloud, they both new this thing between her and Waverly already went far beyond friendship. And Waverly knew it too. Gus had noticed the moment the shift started to happen—there was something different about Waverly, even early on after meeting Nicole. And then, after that first dance at the Pin Drop, it was like watching the planets begin to align. Though, they clearly weren't yet in the same place, whatever happened during that dance, it happened to both of them. Gus had recognized it immediately.

Gus smiled at her then. "I appreciate that about you, Nicole," she said sincerely. "And I won't give you the speech 'bout kickin' your ass if you hurt her. Trust me, once Wynonna finally gits her head outta her ass long enough to figure it out, she'll be givin' ya enough shit over it. No one's more protective of that girl than her sister. And it goes both ways, just so ya know," she commented with obvious affection. "But I will say that while Waverly's spirit is strong and resilient, her heart is tender, fragile. Please, just… be mindful of that."

Nodding, Nicole felt the heat of tears, and fought to stifle them. "Yes, ma'am. Always," she assured.

"All right, then. You git on outta my kitchen now. Scoot," Gus directed, grabbing that kitchen towel from where it was tucked into the pocket of her jeans, and waving it at Nicole, who couldn't help but chuckle.

She felt like she was being shooed from her grandma's kitchen for being what was deemed "a little rascal," in response to snatching some of the fresh berries being prepped for a cobbler or a pie, or a finger-full of cake batter from the bowl her grandma was mixing up from scratch. It was a name she'd heard long into adulthood for those very same antics, and if she were at home, she'd still be hearing it today. In response, she'd say, "You know you love me, Grams," as she gave her a quick kiss on the cheek—a means of distraction while she snatched another taste. And then she'd flash that dimpled smile, and scamper out the door to avoid being swatted by that towel again.

"Go on," Gus was saying, "find Waverly, 'n take her out ridin'. I had Maverick saddled up for ya. You'll just need to bridle 'im. He was Curtis's horse, 'n he could use a good workout." She didn't need to say it had been a while. The expression of empathy in Nicole's eyes told her the young deputy understood.

"And Nicole?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Once again, Nicole's eyes held an expression of expectancy.

"She may be a handful, but she's more than worth the effort," Gus said with clear affection in her usually gruff tone.

"Yes, ma'am," Nicole said with firm conviction. And then that smitten smile flickered across her lips. "I know…"

Gus nodded then. "Food'll be ready by three," she said, releasing her.

"Thanks, Gus," Nicole said, her tone warm as she reached out, giving Gus's arm an affectionate squeeze. "We'll be back in plenty of time."

And with that, she lifted her Stetson from the back of the kitchen chair where she'd hooked it when she came in, settling it on her head with practiced precision, and disappeared through the French doors onto the back porch, then down the stairs and out of sight.


"Mornin'," Nicole greeted, her smile wide, that dimple in full bloom. Her soles of her boots crunched in the mixture of gravel and dirt as she moved across the dusty terrain toward the paddock, her stride confident. And why wouldn't it be? Gus had all but just given her the green light where Waverly was concerned. Not that anyone other than Waverly had the right to decide that, but it was nice to know Gus was on her side. Now, if only Waverly would just hurry up and figure it out, and dump Champ on his sorry ass.

Stopping in her tracks, Waverly's breath caught, and her mouth gaped, as those green eyes slowly raked along Nicole's body, taking in the crisp black button-down shirt, tucked into well-fitting faded black jeans that led south to a pair of nicely broken-in black leather cowboy boots that clearly weren't just for show. The top three buttons on her shirt were purposefully left open—just like they always were on her uniform; the only difference being that this time, she wore a black tank top beneath, instead of the usual dark blue.

Those gorgeous auburn locks were once again pulled back in a braid, and topping off the ensemble was a sexy black Stetson in place of her usual white government-issued one, and that stylish black leather bomber jacket—the one she'd worn the night they went bowling. She carried a dark gray backpack, slung casually over her right shoulder, and Waverly could tell by the way the jacket lay along Nicole's left side, that her Glock was securely holstered beneath. When she finally found her faculties, a tremulous smile played across Waverly's expressive mouth. "Morning," she chirped, her green eyes alight with that intrinsic inner joy. "You look… Wow."

Tilting her head, Nicole grinned. "I could say the same of you," she complimented, leaning casually against the post at the paddock gate.

Waverly blushed, and bit her bottom lip. Bashfully, her eyes flitted back and forth between Nicole and the ground several times, as she contemplated a response that wouldn't sound lame. Unable to find one, she gave up, focusing instead on the job at hand. She turned on the heel of her boot, and grasped the saddle from its old wooden perch near the barn doors, lifting, pivoting again, and settling it onto Wildfire's back in a single motion.

Nicole just stood here, mouth agape. She was impressed that Waverly could manage to heft that saddle on her own—and with what appeared to be relative ease! She knew from experience that it must've weighed upwards of fifty pounds, and Wildfire's back was well above Waverly's shoulders, making it a difficult task, to say the least. And then she mentally kicked herself for ever thinking Waverly incapable of anything! "Guess I don't need to ask if you need any help," she grinned, as she watched her settle the saddle into place, making certain that it was centered on the thick padding that lay beneath, so as not to cause Wildfire any discomfort while they were riding.

Reaching beneath Wildfire's barrel, Waverly grabbed the cinch from the other side. "Last time I needed help with this, I didn't even have a driver's license," she commented, pulling the cinch over and threading the other end of the cinch strap through the ring. "Maverick's bridle is on the post over there though," she said, motioning toward it. "You can go ahead, get him ready to go." And then she glanced up at Nicole, a teasing grin forming on her lips. "Unless, of course, you need a little help with that," she challenged.

Amused, Nicole grinned. "I think I can manage," she said with a wink.

Pushing away from the post, she closed the gate behind her, and dropped the latch to secure it. She moved across the paddock toward the post Waverly had indicated. Lifting the bridle from the post, she hung her backpack there instead, keeping it out of harm's way while she went to greet her horse. "Are they good with treats?" she asked, glancing toward Waverly, not wanting to overstep her bounds.

"You brought them treats?" Waverly's smile said she was pleased.

"Apple slices and carrots," Nicole said. "If those are okay." The hesitancy in her tone asked the question.

"They're perfect," Waverly declared, tightening the cinch once the strap was securely wound. And then she slipped her fingers beneath the strap, ensuring it wasn't so tight that it would pinch Wildfire as they rode.

"Great!" Unzipping her backpack, Nicole retrieved the Ziploc bag she'd prepared earlier that morning, and stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket, turning her attention toward the horse.

"Hey there, Maverick," she said gently as she approached him from the side, ensuring that he could both see and hear her coming. Tethered just a few feet away from Waverly and Wildfire, Nicole was careful to ensure that Wildfire could see her, as well.

Maverick was a gorgeous creature—a tall, coal-black stallion, with powerful muscles, a long, beautiful mane, and similar to Wildfire, a patch of white hair that marked the center of his forehead starting just beneath his forelock. Nicole felt privileged that Gus would allow her to ride him. When she was close enough, she reached out her hands toward him, inviting him to sniff her fingers.

Once he seemed satisfied that she wasn't a threat, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the bag of treats. The moment she broke it open, Maverick started nodding his head, his front hooves stamping in the dirt. She chuckled at his obvious excitement as the familiar aroma hit his nostrils. Some trainers might have considered his reaction to be undisciplined, but she just found it sweet. "Which do you like better, huh, boy? Apples or carrots?" she asked sweetly.

Waverly arched an eyebrow. "You don't really expect him to answer—do you?" she teased.

"Maybe not 'n so many words," Nicole grinned. Fishing out a few apple slices, she stuffed the bag back into her pocket. And then she held the treat out to him in the palm of her hand, making certain that her hand and fingers were completely flat, so as to avoid accidental nipping. He accepted the treat gratefully, and when he finished it, she offered a chunk of carrot in the same careful manner. He nudged gently at her hand then, and she reached up, petting his face and neck as she spoke softly to him, telling him what a good boy he was to take his treats so gently.

She spent several minutes then, petting him, talking to him, before removing his halter, and introducing the bridle. Clearly well-trained, he went easily into the bridle, and she praised him again, earning a series of nickers in response. She patted his side then, telling him to be still, as she stepped toward Waverly to introduce herself to Wildfire, getting acquainted with her in the same manner before they mounted up, and headed out for their ride.

Fifteen minutes later, from her perch atop Wildfire, Waverly watched Nicole with captivated eyes, enjoying the way her muscles moved beneath dark fabric as she mounted the powerful horse. Grasping the reins and saddle horn in her left hand, Nicole slipped her left foot into the stirrup, using the well-defined muscles in her leg to lift her body; and swinging her right leg over, she mounted the horse the same way she did everything else—with smooth, deliberate movements. She slipped easily into the saddle, hooking her right foot into the stirrup. Her posture straight, yet her entire body appearing relaxed, she looked perfectly at home there astride Maverick.

A seasoned rider, Nicole took a few moments then, guiding Maverick around within the safety of the paddock, giving him both physical and verbal commands, and gauging his responses so that she could anticipate his handling out in the open fields. Better to be safe, than sorry, was her motto in most every situation where danger was a possibility. "He handles amazingly well for not knowing me at all," she commented to Waverly, adding that it was clear evidence of excellent training.

"Uncle Curtis really knew his stuff," Waverly noted with pride.

"Well, it's certainly obvious," Nicole declared with conviction, as she effortlessly brought Maverick to a halt beside Wildfire.

"You ready, Officer Haught?" Waverly asked, smiling up at her. She was a natural on a horse, Waverly could tell, and she couldn't wait to spend the day riding with her.

Feeling completely at ease not only in the saddle, but with Maverick in particular, and also with Waverly as her guide, Nicole smiled in return. "Lead the way," she replied, knowing that she would literally follow Waverly Earp anywhere this life might take them, if only she'd be blessed with the chance.


Starting out at an easy pace, they made their way across the field behind Gus's house, moving toward the ridge where they allowed the horses to pick up a little speed. The morning sunlight was warm on their faces, and Nicole couldn't help but notice how the breeze flowed effortlessly through Waverly's hair as they rode. Following the ridge for a ways, they chatted easily as they took in the view of the hills, the budding foliage, and the wildlife in the foreground, and the majestic beauty of the mountains off in the distance.

They'd been riding for more than an hour when Waverly slowed them down on approach to the slope she knew to be safest in allowing them access into the valley below. From there, they could make their way along the edge of the rushing stream that cut through their property—an offshoot of Ghost River.

Even out in the open fields, Nicole found Maverick to be determined, but not headstrong, allowing her to maintain the necessary control without quashing his spirit—a much-desired combination in her opinion. And Waverly, with her keen sense of the terrain, proved to be an excellent lead, allowing Nicole to follow her easily. Before she knew it, they had navigated the worn path along the slope down into valley, where the wide open fields awaited them. Once again, they allowed the horses to pick up speed, this time moving easily from a sitting trot, to a posting trot, into a playful canter, and finally to a full-on gallop within a few minutes' time.

They played together then, laughing as they ran the horses in circles and figure eights—a game of chase, with neither of them really knowing who was chasing whom, only that it was relaxing and fun, and that the horses, who were being allowed to frolic, were enjoying the game, as well.

Finally, Waverly broke free of the patterns, challenging Nicole to a race down to a grove of oak trees about a thousand meters ahead.

"What do I get if I win?" Nicole asked, a roguish grin playing across her full lips.

Waverly arched an eyebrow in challenge. "Guess you'll have to catch me to find out, Officer Haught," she answered flirtatiously, quickly giving Wildfire the signal to take off.

"Oh, you are so gonna pay for that, Waverly Earp!" Nicole exclaimed through her laughter, as she issued the signal to engage Maverick. Accepting the challenge, he was off like a shot. Clearly in his element, and loving the freedom of the breeze blowing, unfettered, through his long, dark mane, his powerful muscles rippled and flexed beneath her, as he covered the ground between them with what seemed like little effort.

Waverly's laughter echoed through the valley as Wildfire raced across the field, managing to keep her just ahead of her quickly approaching competitor as she neared the midway point in her quest to reach the grove of trees. And then a sudden surge of determination spurred Maverick on, and he pulled just ahead of her. They took turns then, pulling ahead and falling behind for several hundred meters, and finally, they were neck and neck as they approached the finish. For a moment it looked as though they would end in a dead heat, until Maverick managed to pull ahead again, just as they reached their declared finish line; making Nicole the clear winner, much to her delight, and Waverly's feigned consternation.

As they slowed the horses back down to a trot, Waverly glanced over at Nicole. "Okay, Officer Haught-Shot, you win."

Nicole beamed. "What, exactly, do I win?" she asked flirtatiously.

"How 'bout we negotiate that later?" Waverly said suggestively, her tone of voice causing the heat that always simmered deep within Nicole's belly whenever Waverly was around to ignite into a flame, even as Waverly's own belly started that somersaulting thing again.

"I'm gonna hold ya to that," Nicole winked.

"I can hardly wait," Waverly grinned flirtatiously.

They rode in silence for a few minutes then, Waverly watching Nicole's mannerisms and the expression on her face as she guided Maverick with effortless precision. "You really love this, don't you?" she observed, enjoying the way Nicole's body moved with the motion of Maverick's muscles as they traveled. "Riding, I mean..."

Glancing toward her, Nicole smiled. "Yeah, I really do," she answered in that laidback way of hers. "Being out on the wide-open range is relaxing. It gives me a chance to kinda clear my mind."

"Except when your pesky companion won't stop asking questions, right?" Waverly joked.

"You can ask me anything you want, Waves," Nicole assured. "Anytime you want."

Waverly smiled. "That's good to know, Officer Haught." She fell silent for a moment, and then asked, "You ever compete?"

"Nah, wasn't my thing," Nicole answered. "Hayley does, though."

"Oh, really?" Waverly sounded interested.

"Yeah," Nicole nodded. "She's been competing since grade school. Her bedroom wall is covered in first place ribbons, and she's got a shelf full of trophies."

"Wow, she must be really proud of her accomplishments," Waverly presumed.

"Oh, yeah," Nicole confirmed. "My whole family's proud of her. She's amazing."

"And let me guess… You and Kyler have shelves full of basketball trophies, right?" Waverly ventured.

"Well, we did play for the same team," Nicole shrugged, grinning almost bashfully.

Waverly laughed. "And what did Trinity excel in?"

"Shopping," Nicole said dryly.

The deadpan expression on Nicole's face drew another laugh from Waverly. "No, seriously," she pressed. "What's her claim to fame in your family?"

Nicole chuckled. "She's the musician," she answered. "Piano, guitar, saxophone… Classical, Jazz, rock 'n roll… You name it, she can play it. And she's got a voice like an angel. So does Hayles, actually."

"You play too, though, don't you?" Waverly recalled from previous conversations.

"Yeah, I play some," Nicole admitted. "We all do. But not like Trini."

"You sound a little jealous," Waverly teased.

"Maybe a li'l bit," Nicole sheepishly admitted, causing Waverly to chuckle again.

And then, as if by that silent mutual agreement they'd seemed to share from the start, they dismounted their horses in unison. Holding their respective reins loosely, they walked side-by-side, leading the horses toward the stream where they allowed them a leisurely drink.

"Maybe sometime we could ride up into the mountains," Nicole suggested when they settled on a huge, flat boulder near the water's edge, the horses alternately nipping at blades of grass and lapping at the cool, flowing waters.

"Absolutely," Waverly agreed. "Uncle Curtis cut an awesome path up the mountainside, to Wolf Willow Ridge, and from there, down the other side to Ghost River. Maybe we can go in the summertime, take a swim in the river?"

"Sounds great," Nicole readily agreed, propping the heel of her right boot on the edge of the rock, as she shrugged out of her backpack. "Think Wynonna would join us? It's not hiking," she shrugged. Unzipping her pack, she pulled out a bag of trail mix, and two refillable aluminum water bottles, both of them gunmetal gray, with the USMC logo stamped on them in black. Offering Waverly one of the water bottles, she opened the bag of snacks, setting it on the rock between them.

"Thank you," Waverly said appreciatively, as she accepted bottle. "Ooh, is this the trail mix you make yourself?"

"Yep," Nicole grinned. She knew from their hike that Waverly loved it.

"Yay!" Waverly exclaimed giddily, as she dug into the plastic bag. "Oh… and there's no way Wynonna would agree to that," she commented, popping a few pieces of the mix into her mouth. She loved the juxtaposition of salty and sweet that Nicole managed to blend so perfectly.

"Why not?"

"She hates horses," Waverly reported. "Almost as much as she hates guns."

"And yet… she carries that antique Colt .45 and a Black Badge-issue semi-automatic," Nicole mused, challenge in her tone as she pointed out the obvious inconsistencies.

"Only because it's necessary for her job," Waverly countered. Taking a long drink of the cool water, she recapped the bottle, and set it on the rock beside her.

"She carries the Colt even when she's off-duty," Nicole commented.

Casting a glance toward Nicole, Waverly arched an eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Officer Haught, but… I do believe you're packing a Glock beneath your left arm," she deflected, bumping her shoulder against Nicole's in a playful gesture.

Nicole laughed. "Point taken," she conceded. "But I'm from Texas," she shrugged, sounding as though that should explain everything. "I grew up around guns. Hell, I learned to shoot practically before I could even ride a bike."

"Yeah, it was kinda that way in my family too," Waverly commented. "For Willa, anyway. Daddy used to drag her out in the middle of the night to make her practice."

"But not you or Wynonna?" Nicole surmised.

"No," Waverly answered, shaking her head. "We were never included."

"Why not?"

"Because we weren't the…" Waverly started to say "Heir," but realizing that she couldn't—not without raising more questions—she allowed the word to die on her tongue, and quickly shifted gears, saying, "We weren't the oldest."

Nicole nodded, accepting the explanation for what it was—the only truth Waverly could give her. At least for the moment. "I don't imagine either of your skills suffered any for it," she presumed.

"Guess not," Waverly shrugged. "Uncle Curtis taught me how to handle a gun when I was still a little kid. Wyn learned from Dolls when she joined Black Badge. I'm a better shot than she is, but… I've had years more practice."

"I guess… I'm just struggling to understand why Wynonna would choose a job that requires her to do things she hates," Nicole commented.

Waverly focused her gaze on the water then, watching how effortlessly it flowed over the rocks. "We don't always get to choose our vocation, Nicole. Sometimes life chooses for us—" Her tone was quiet, almost bitter, and definitely cryptic as she spoke. And then she drew her feet up, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Reading Waverly's tone and accompanying body language for what it was—the physical manifestation of emotional withdrawal—Nicole realized she needed to just let it go. "I'm sorry, Waves," she said sincerely. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No," Waverly said, glancing toward her. "You're not prying. I'll tell you anything you wanna know about me, personally, but… Well, it's just that… some stories aren't mine to tell."

A single nod indicated Nicole's acceptance of Waverly's reasoning. "Yeah, I get it," she said. "If I wanna know about Wynonna, I should ask her myself."

"Exactly," Waverly affirmed. "I love my sister, and I would never betray her by telling stories she doesn't want told."

"You've kinda lived your whole life that way—haven't you?" Nicole asked perceptively. "Doin' what's best for everyone else, no matter the cost to you personally."

Silence fell between them, as Waverly contemplated—not the question itself, but the most appropriate answer. And in that moment, she realized that was exactly what she was doing—she was orchestrating an answer for the one person other than her family that she actually wanted to be honest with, and she was doing so because of the potential repercussions to others. "Yeah, I guess I have," she finally admitted. The tendency took root with never being allowed to tell anyone the truth about the Earp curse, and from there, it simply became what she did.

"Who is it that you wanna be, Waverly Earp?" Nicole asked gently.

A soft, somewhat ironic laugh fell from Waverly's lips. "No one in my whole life has ever asked me that question," she quietly admitted. "So I have no idea how to answer it."

"Well maybe it's time you started focusin' on yourself, tryin' to figure that out," Nicole encouraged. "There's nothin' wrong with takin' care of yourself, every once in a while."

"Even if it means people might not be happy with me?" Waverly dared ask.

"Believe me, you'll never please everyone all the time. And if you try, you'll just end up miserable," Nicole answered. "Besides, you're not responsible for other people's happiness. That's on them."

A faint smile flickered across Waverly's lips. "So you keep telling me."

Nicole nodded. "And I'm gonna keep on tellin' you, until you really believe that it's true," she vowed.

"Now that, I definitely believe," Waverly replied, her tone teasing as she bumped her shoulder against Nicole's.

Chuckling at her, Nicole playfully rolled her eyes. And then she glanced at her watch. "We should probably head back," she noted. "Gus says dinner at three."

Following suit, Waverly checked her watch, as well. "Yeah," she sighed, sounding disappointed. But she knew Nicole was right. It would take a while to take care of the horses, and get them back into their stalls. "What do you say we race back toward the pass?" she suggested, grinning devilishly. "Double or nothing."

"No way," Nicole declined. "I'm perfectly satisfied with one prize."

"What's the matter?" Waverly challenged. "Afraid you'll lose?"

"Never," Nicole said smugly. "You couldn't even beat me by cheating."

Delivered on a taunting smirk, Nicole's comment was akin to her issuing a challenge—and Waverly Earp never backed down from a challenge. To her advantage, Waverly also knew that Nicole never backed down either. She issued a taunting smirk of her own. "We'll see about that," she declared, rising to her feet without a moments' hesitation.

A few seconds later, she was mounting Wildfire, as Nicole scrambled to close up the trail mix and shove it, as well as their water bottles back into her pack. And by the time Nicole managed to mount Maverick, she could hear Waverly's laughter echoing through the valley from nearly a quarter of the way back to the pass.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—1:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Covering the glass dish full of baked beans with foil, Gus pushed it onto the upper shelf in the oven, setting the temperature to 350 degrees. "That'll be ready in about an hour," she commented mostly to herself. And then she turned back to the countertop where she grabbed the package of ground beef, opening it and dumping the contents into a medium-sized glass mixing bowl.

Perched on a stool on the far side of the counter, Wynonna sipped strong black coffee from a lidded coffeehouse cup. "You sure you don't need any help?" she asked for the third time since she arrived. She'd been sitting there for the better part of an hour, watching Gus work, and it was starting to make her feel antsy.

"I'm just gonna get this ground beef prepped, in case Nicole prefers burgers," Gus replied, as she added dashes of black pepper and minced garlic.

"What, is Nicole some kinda celebrity guest, or somethin'?" Wynonna quipped sarcastically.

Gus frowned at her disapprovingly. "What makes you ask a fool thing like that?" she asked, tossing in a small handful of seasoned bread crumbs to help hold the patties together.

"You and mama never catered to us girls," Wynonna reminded.

"Well, Nicole's not from around here, so until I figure out more of what she likes, I'll make sure there're options," Gus replied.

Gauging her aunt's demeanor, Wynonna considered the comment. "You just thinkin' she might be around a lot, or… are ya trying to make sure she will?"

Surprised by the astuteness of the question, Gus glanced up from the onion she was chopping. Apparently, Wynonna paid more attention than she thought—at least to some things. "I don't think it'll take any effort on my part to keep Nicole around," she answered.

Wynonna nodded. "Well, I'm pretty sure chicken and steak are barbeque staples in Texas," she commented, flashing that dimpled grin.

"As are burgers, I hear tell," Gus countered with a wink. Scooping up the diced onions, she dropped them into the bowl.

"Point taken," Wynonna granted.

"Yes," Gus grinned. "So we'll have all three."

Moving to the refrigerator, Gus grabbed an egg from the container. Upon returning to her workspace, she cracked it, adding it to the mix. And then tossing the eggshell into the trash, she reached into the bowl, mixing the ingredients with dexterous hands.

Remaining silent as Gus moved and worked, Wynonna wrestled with things she wanted to say, not really knowing how to say them, or even why she felt the need. Ever since she'd been branded "crazy," she'd learned to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself. She was a master of internalizing them, building walls to protect herself in the process.

Since her return from Greece, and her subsequent decision to stay in Purgatory, those walls had slowly begun to crack, and now they were crumbling around her. It scared the hell of out her, feeling so defenseless against her own emotions after so many years of being mostly numb to them. But there was a part of her that also liked the idea of truly feeling again—especially when it came to Waverly, whom she loved with a fierceness she lacked words to describe, and Gus, who had always meant so much to her, despite her inability to actually admit it.

"Somethin' you wanna get off your chest, Wynonna?" Gus asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, as she formed the clump of beef into patties, making certain to press an indentation in the center to keep them flat as they cooked.

Caught off-guard by the question, Wynonna glanced down at her chest, surveying it for a moment. And then she grasped the outer edges of her breasts, squeezing them as if to fluff them up. "No fuckin' way. These babies have gotten me outta far too many scrapes to be messin' with 'em now," she answered facetiously.

Gus just shook her head and grinned. She knew that Wynonna was avoiding something. And given the expression on her niece's face as she contemplated it, she imagined that it was rather emotional. Knowing Wynonna the way she did, she chose to let it go. To push her would be to risk her physical and emotional retreat, and that was the last thing Gus wanted to happen. They were finally beginning to become a family again.

"Think you could set the table for me?" Gus asked, changing the subject to let Wynonna off the hook. It was far too early to be necessary, but it was a way to give Wynonna space.

Wynonna nodded, recognizing the smooth segue for what it was—a reprieve. "Sure thing, Gus," she answered. "We eatin' inside or out?"

"I thought we'd eat out on the deck, if that's all right," Gus said, her tone seeking Wynonna's approval.

"No better place to eat barbeque," Wynonna declared.

"That's what I thought," Gus agreed.

"Is it just the four of us?" Wynonna asked. "Or is Champ gonna show up?"

"Waverly didn't invite him," Gus informed with a shrug, feigning ignorance of any reason logical why. Waverly's burgeoning relationship with Nicole wasn't her business to tell.

Keeping her elation to herself, Wynonna simply nodded. And leaving Gus to finish prepping the hamburgers, she went about gathering plates and utensils before heading out to the back deck to set the picnic table for dinner.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—1:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"I still don't know how you managed to catch up with me." Waverly sounded almost baffled as they walked together, side-by-side, leading the horses across the field behind Gus's house, back toward the paddock outside the barn. They'd walked the last fifteen minutes or so to allow the horses a chance to cool down after their vigorous ride.

"Sheer determination," Nicole said, looking rather pleased with her feat. "No way was I giving up my prize. And now I get double," she grinned. She'd managed to bypass Waverly just before they reached the access point where they would ascend out of the valley.

"Serves me right for not leaving well enough alone," Waverly muttered, but the grin that teased on her lips gave her away.

Nicole laughed, and Waverly joined her. "We should definitely do this again," Waverly declared. "The horses loved it."

"And what about you?" Nicole inquired, casting a glance toward her companion.

"Best ride I've had in ages," Waverly pronounced, without really thinking the comment through first.

Amused, Nicole couldn't stop the grin that spread quickly across her face. And the moment Waverly noticed, she felt her entire body flush with heat. Nervously, she cleared her throat. "And the company wasn't half bad, either."

The flustered expression on Waverly's face drew a chuckle from Nicole. "You're just sayin' that 'cause you like my trail mix," she accused playfully.

What sense is there in pretending at this point? Waverly wondered. Absolutely none, she readily decided. Tossing aside her discomfiture, she casually looped her arm through Nicole's. "That's not the only thing I like about you, Officer Haught."

"Oh, really?" Nicole said, curiosity piqued. She leaned over as they walked. "What else do you like?" she asked, her tone low, and decidedly husky against Waverly's ear.

Waverly's entire body flushed with heat again. "You'll just have to wait and see," she managed, her lips forming a tremulous grin.

"My, my you certainly are a woman of mystery today, Waverly Earp," Nicole declared, casting a sideways grin toward her, as they entered the paddock.

Releasing Waverly's arm, she turned, and locked the gate behind them.

"A woman of mystery," Waverly mused, hands planted on her hips. "I like that. It's rather… poetic."

"I find that quite fitting," Nicole complimented.

"Well, it definitely sounds better than babbling sack of anxious indecision," Waverly said wittily.

Nicole just gave her that look. "Why're you always so hard on yourself, Waves?"

"Force of habit," Waverly shrugged, as she eased Wildfire's bridle from her head. Replacing it with her harness, she tethered her to the hitching post for grooming. "Guess I'm just used to having to beat others to the punch. Hurts less that way."

Stepping toward her, Nicole lightly palmed Waverly's cheek with her free hand, holding firmly to Maverick's reins with the other. "You never have to protect yourself where I'm concerned," she said sincerely. "I won't be throwin' any punches, metaphorical or otherwise. Least, not towards you, anyway."

Waverly wondered fleetingly if Nicole was saying she would punch Champ. But she didn't want to ruin the moment by mentioning his name. Instead, she grinned up at her. "Are you saying you might be inclined to defend my honor, Officer Haught?" she asked, flirtatiously.

"Somehow, I think you're quite capable of managin' that all on your own," Nicole said, forthrightly. "But if I ever felt it needed defendin', then yeah, you bet I would."

You make my heart swoon. "You always assume the best of me," Waverly said, her tone a muddle of bewilderment and awe.

"Why wouldn't I?" Nicole reasoned, admiration reflecting in those soft russet eyes as they whispered across Waverly's face.

Delivered with the tenderness of a caress, Nicole's words caused the most unexpected swell of emotions for Waverly. She moved closer, and wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist tightly, she buried her face against Nicole's chest, simply breathing her in.

Wordlessly, Nicole pulled her closer, encircling her in a warm embrace, as she leaned a cheek against Waverly's head. She didn't pretend to understand what Waverly was feeling, but the fierceness with which Waverly clung to her told her the emotions were powerful—and raw. After several minutes of simply holding her close, Nicole murmured softly against her temple, "You okay, Waves?"

Tilting her head back, Waverly met Nicole's concerned gaze. "Yeah," she answered quietly. "Just feeling super grateful for you."

Reaching up, Nicole brushed wayward brunette locks from Waverly's face. "The feeling is mutual," she whispered. And then a faint smile flickered across her lips. "You've made what could've been a really tough transition a whole lot more pleasant for me than I ever thought possible. Thank you for just… being there."

Waverly pressed the palms of her hands against Nicole's upper chest, and then allowed them to glide upward and over strong shoulders in a featherlike caress. She marveled at the way those muscles flexed beneath her touch. And then her fingertips came to rest lightly against Nicole's neck where it met that angular jawline, delighting in the sensation of Nicole's pulse tripping beneath her fingertips, as sincere green eyes slowly searched russet depths. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, Nicole," she whispered, her breath hitching as that familiar dipping quickening teased deep in her belly.

Nicole felt it too—the tightening of that invisible cord that bound them to one another—the intensity of attraction turned desire, coiling deep within her body, her own breath clutching in her chest, as she held Waverly's gaze for far longer than necessary or prudent. And yet, she couldn't manage to tear herself away.

The stillness between them was broken when Maverick stamped his hoof in the dirt, drawing Nicole's attention. In that same moment, she noticed Wynonna in her peripheral vision, watching them from the back porch. Fleetingly, she wondered just exactly how much the elder Earp had witnessed—not for her own sake, but for Waverly's. "We should, uh… we should probably get the horses taken care of, before we're late for dinner," she finally said, gently breaking the connection between them.

Suddenly feeling anxious, Waverly physically separated herself from Nicole. "The horses. Right. Yes, of course. Uh, sorry…" she jabbered, looking rather unsettled as she searched aimlessly for Wildfire's brush.

Reaching out, Nicole gently grasped her hand. "Hey, there's no need to be sorry, Waves," she said softly.

At the tender reassurance in Nicole's voice, in her eyes, Waverly visibly relaxed. "You have more treats for them?" she asked, squinting against the afternoon sun as she glanced up at Nicole.

Nicole offered that dimpled smile in response. "You bet," she answered. Handing Maverick's reins to Waverly, she shrugged out of her backpack, hooking it on a nearby post. She unzipped it, retrieving the plastic bag, and tossing it to Waverly.

She shrugged out of her jacket then, hanging it over the same post, and did the same with her holster. And then she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the form-fitting black tank top she wore beneath. Slipping out of the shirt, she tossed it over the railing, aware of the intensity in Waverly's eyes as she watched her every move. "I forgot to bring an extra shirt, and… I don't wanna smell like a barnyard at the dinner table," she explained with a grin, knowing it was likely that she would after untacking and grooming Maverick.

Waverly arched an eyebrow in challenge. "I think you just wanted an excuse to take your shirt off in front of me again," she declared with a flirty lilt.

Russet eyes twinkled with mischief. "I got a little distracted by someone's text messages this morning," Nicole claimed.

"Oh, yeah?" Waverly said with a questioning tone. "Whose texts were distracting you, Officer Haught?"

Nicole arched an eyebrow, drawing a laugh from Waverly, who knew the aforementioned texts were from her. "Exactly," Nicole said with a grin. "And besides, given the way you were just ogling me, I really don't think you mind," she teased.

Blushing, Waverly averted Nicole's alluring gaze. "I wasn't ogling," she mumbled in denial.

Leaning her hip against the fence, Nicole crossed her arms, a smirk forming on her lips. "What would you call it then?" she challenged.

Green eyes flickered coyly toward Nicole then. "Appreciating," Waverly shrugged. And Christ Almighty, there's so much gorgeous there to be appreciated! she thought, unabashed desire reflecting in those green eyes. A demure grin teased at the corners of her mouth as she averted her gaze again.

It was Nicole's turn to blush then, and she did so rather impressively, her face turning nearly crimson. It wasn't that she was unaccustomed to being looked at with desire. But no one had ever looked at her quite like that—especially not someone that she wanted with equal fervor. Boots shuffling in the dirt, she cleared her throat. "I, uh… I really have no, uh… no idea how to, um… Yeah," she stammered uncharacteristically.

Waverly laughed then. A deep belly laugh, as she watched Nicole struggle for words. It was so unlike the confident officer that it took Waverly by surprise. "Finally!" she exclaimed, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Finally what? What the hell is so funny?" Nicole asked, flummoxed.

"Finally, you're the one who's babbling," Waverly teased, emphasizing which one of them couldn't articulate a concise sentence.

And then Nicole was smiling. The laughter in those gorgeous green eyes was not only beautiful to witness, but it was contagious, and it stopped Nicole's breath right there in her chest. "Lucky for you, you've been spared all the babbling that goes on inside my head before I actually speak," she said sheepishly.

Waverly grinned. "You mean to tell me your thoughts aren't as smooth as your game?" she teased flirtatiously.

"Hardly," Nicole chuckled. "You leave me tongue-tied far more than you realize, Waverly Earp," she murmured softly, her fingertips brushing along Waverly's arm.

Waverly moved toward her, and Nicole purposefully backed away. Diverting her attention then—an attempt at keeping them from crossing boundaries again—she declared that she needed to find Maverick's brush. Waverly nodded, understanding the reason why, and directed Nicole toward his stall in the barn.

When Nicole returned a few moments later, they worked side-by-side, grooming the horses and then giving them a well-deserved snack of more carrots and apple slices, before returning them to their stalls for the evening. And when they finished, they collected their things, and walking across the barren yard, they ascended the stairs together, Waverly's arm once again draped through Nicole's, right where they both knew it belonged.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—2:15 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

With Gus nearby, working the grill with the efficiency of a seasoned pro, Wynonna lounged in one of the Adirondack chairs Curtis had built years ago, simply enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on her face as she took in deep breaths of the fresh, floral-scented air that wafted in on the soft breeze that blew across the fields. It was a rarity for her, those moments of solitude where she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the outdoors; but here at Gus's house it was difficult to deny the sheer pleasure of it.

Through the gaps in the thick wooden posts of the porch railing, she could see Waverly and Nicole in the paddock, busily grooming Wildfire and Maverick. Having exited the kitchen just as Waverly moved into Nicole's arms earlier, she'd wondered for a moment what was going on. And then she decided it didn't matter—her sister seemed at home, and genuinely happy around Nicole, and that was good enough for her. And now, as she watched them together, it was clear that they took the work seriously, even as they talked, and laughed, and played together while they worked side-by-side. She envied them, that easy way they had together. But she was happy for the companionship they'd found with one another, as well.

Unbeknownst to her, Gus's thoughts echoed her own. With the simple ease of their interactions, the sheer joy in their shared laughter, Waverly and Nicole reminded her of Curtis and herself in the early days of their courtship. She'd been fortunate enough to share a love that lasted—one with her very best friend. And as she watched them together, she couldn't help but hope that one day Waverly and Nicole would share the same.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—2:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"Omigosh, dinner smells totally amazeballs!" Waverly exclaimed giddily, taking a deep whiff of the aroma as she and Nicole entered the kitchen after tending to the horses. Her stomach growled in response, causing her to giggle.

Amused by Waverly's youthful exuberance, Nicole grinned and shook her head. She was so frickin' adorable in that dorky way of hers. And then she turned her attention to the food. "Mm… Sure does," she agreed. It smelled tempting enough while on the grill, but nothing compared to the aroma that met her when they walked into kitchen, the way everything melded together, creating an aromatic symphony. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled the amalgam of perfectly grilled meat, and grilled corn-on-the-cob, still in the husks, baked beans, and the sweetness of desserts she couldn't quite identify, though she was certain that blueberries were involved.

Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, Gus tossed it onto the countertop, and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, I don't rightly know what amazeballs smell like, but I reckon I'll take that as a good thing, seein' as you both sound so happy 'bout it."

Nicole chuckled in that easy way of hers. "It's definitely a good thing," she assured.

Hanging her backpack and jacket on the hooks inside the door, she leaned against the counter. "I know you had things handled earlier, but is there anything we can do to help now?" she offered for the second time that day. That's how she was raised—you enter someone's kitchen for a meal, and you offer to help with whatever might need doing.

"Suck up," Wynonna muttered accusingly, drawing a grin from Nicole, and a scowl from Waverly, as Gus shot a disapproving glance her way.

"Geez, tough crowd," Wynonna declared with a laugh.

Gus just smiled and shook her head. "Wynonna's got the table set out back, and I've got this under control; but thanks, Nicole," she answered, recognizing, not for the first time, the fact that someone had obviously raised this young woman well. "You girls run on upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner. I'll have dinner on the table by the time you get back down."

Simultaneous grins were followed by verbal acknowledgments, and then the two of them were trampling up the stairs side-by-side. They sounded like a herd of wild horses with their boots clomping against the hardwood stairs, and Gus couldn't help but grin as she turned her attention back to the final dinner preparations.

"You're welcome to use my shower if you want," Waverly offered, gesturing toward the bathroom door as they entered the bedroom she still kept at Gus's house. "I put fresh towels in there for you this morning."

"Thank you," Nicole said sincerely, thinking that might not be a bad idea, despite not having a clean shirt with her—at least not one that was appropriate for the dinner table. Having grabbed the small duffle bag she'd left in the kitchen earlier that morning, before they hit the stairs, she was thankful that she'd at least thought to bring a change of everything else.

"No problem," Waverly answered casually, as she rifled through the bureau drawers in search of clean panties and a bra. "I'm gonna grab a quick one in Gus's room," she announced, looking up just in time to see Nicole pull the black tank top off. Her eyes slowly sweeping over Nicole's muscled torso, she gulped audibly, and swiftly turned toward her closet. "You, uh… you need a clean t-shirt or something?" she offered, by way of distraction, as she pulled a clean pair of jeans from the shelf.

"Nah, I'm good. I've got a fresh tank top with me," Nicole answered, an amused grin playing across her lips. Now you know how I felt that night in your apartment, she thought. Dropping down onto Waverly's bed, she pulled her boots and socks off, setting them next to a rather lovely antique nightstand. "I'll just wear the black button-down over it."

"Okay," Waverly said, anxious to get out of the room before Nicole took anything else off. "If you need anything else, let me know. Gus's room is at the far end of the hall on the left," she explained. "Otherwise, I'll see you back downstairs in a few."

"Sounds good, Waves. Thanks," Nicole said. Reaching for the silver buckle on her belt, she began to unfasten it, causing Waverly to gulp again.

The fidgeting grew more apparent, and Waverly averted her gaze again, feigning an exhaustive search for a shirt. Finally selecting one, she pulled it from the closet, hanger and all. And with that, she disappeared down the hall, not even daring to turn back toward Nicole before leaving.

Chuckling to herself, Nicole shook her head as she pulled off her belt, dropping it onto the bed. And then she grabbed her bag, a grin still lingering on her lips as she padded barefoot across the gleaming hardwood floor toward the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

When Waverly descended the staircase fifteen minutes later, she was wearing her boots again, along with a pair of faded jeans, and that gorgeous hunter green blouse with the see-through shoulders—the one that brought out the color of her eyes; and her long brunette locks still hung loosely around her face, draping down over her shoulders.

Nicole's insides trembled the moment she set eyes on her, and then a slow smile unfurled across her face as she moved across the room, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs. She hadn't meant to go to her. It just seemed as if her body navigated there of its own accord. But neither of them minded, so lost were they in one another's eyes.

The sweet, familiar tension between them was broken by the sound of Gus's voice. "I hate to interrupt whatever you girls 've got goin' on over there, but dinner's ready," she said.

"Comin', Gus," Waverly called back, her eyes never leaving Nicole's. And then she nibbled her bottom lip a bit nervously. She was starving, but she wouldn't have minded if, just this once, Gus had been late getting dinner on the table. "Guess we should head out to the porch," she commented.

"Guess so," Nicole agreed, albeit reluctantly so. Shifting to the side, she opened a pathway for Waverly to pass in front of her, and then fell in line, following her through the dining room, into the kitchen, and out the French doors onto the back porch where dinner awaited them.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—4:00 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

The meal proved to be another enjoyable experience for everyone gathered around the hand-carved picnic table—delicious food accompanied by humorous banter and lively laughter shared amongst them. And by the time Gus presented dessert choices—a freshly baked blueberry crisp, because she'd learned Nicole loved blueberries, and a batch of gooey butter cookies because they had always been a favorite with Waverly and Wynonna—they had just enough room left to adequately indulge.

"Oh, my god, Gus, these cookies get better every time you bake them!" Wynonna gushed, as she savored the amalgam of gooey texture and rich flavor.

Gus looked at Wynonna pointedly. "Now don't you go fussin' 'bout me not caterin' to you girls again," she said with a teasing grin, referring to their earlier conversation.

Suitably scolded, Wynonna offered a sheepish grin. "Thanks, Gus," she said sweetly.

"You're welcome, Hun," Gus replied, gently patting Wynonna's hand.

Moments later, Waverly and Nicole echoed Wynonna's sentiments as they dug into the blueberry crisp they'd piled on their dessert plates, both of them having decided to save the cookies for later. It was hot out of the oven, with scoops of fresh vanilla bean ice cream on top.

"These are fresh blueberries, aren't they?" Nicole said. It was more statement than question.

"Oh, of course!" Gus answered.

"I see where Waverly gets her talent for baking," Nicole commented, complimenting them both as she stole a glance toward the object of her affection, who subsequently blushed in response. "Best blueberry crisp I've ever had," she declared.

"Well, thank you, Nicole," Gus said warmly. "Waverly started bakin' with her mama and me when she was just barely tall enough to see the countertop, standin' on a kitchen stool."

"What grade were you in then, Waves?" Wynonna mockingly questioned.

Feigning offense, Waverly's mouth dropped open and she made noises of disgruntlement. "Oh, you just hush. You're not much taller than me."

"No, but I am better looking," Wynonna volleyed.

"Ha!" Waverly exclaimed. "You wish."

Nicole laughed at their banter. They sounded like her sisters.

Waverly leaned into Nicole, wrapping her arms firmly around Nicole's bicep. "Tell her, Nicole," she prodded, looking to the officer for reinforcement. "I'm better looking, aren't I?"

Apprehensively, Nicole's eyes shifted from Waverly to Wynonna and back again. And then they moved to Gus, silently pleading with her for an assist, only to receive a helpless grin and a shrug in return. "I plead the fifth," she declared.

"Nice try, Officer Haught, but that doesn't work this side of the border," Waverly teased.

"What's the Canadian equivalent?" Nicole asked, feigning ignorance of the law just to see what Waverly would say.

"There is none," Waverly quickly replied.

"Well, shit," Nicole cursed, flashing that roguish grin toward Waverly. "Guess I'm in all kinds of trouble then, huh?"

"Not if you just speak the truth, and admit I'm the hot one," Wynonna dared, her blue eyes dancing with mischief.

"A hot mess, maybe," Waverly teased, emphasizing the part about the mess.

Wynonna looked suitably offended. "Hey, I resemble that remark," she grinned, drawing a laugh from the group. She certainly couldn't argue. "Besides, maybe Officer Haught prefers hot messes," she ventured, winking at Nicole.

A flash of jealousy coursed through Waverly's veins, flickering across her face. She knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn't help the emotional or physiological responses. The mere thought of Wynonna making a move on Nicole made her heart pound anxiously as her belly tightened with stress. "Are you seriously flirting with her right now?" she said incredulously, as she stared at her sister in disbelief.

One glimpse of the expression on Waverly's face, and Nicole's level of discomfiture increased exponentially. Ordinarily cool under pressure, she actually felt herself begin to sweat. "Uh, what I prefer is to not be caught in the middle of this," she declared, her tone wary, yet firm.

"What? No!" Wynonna denied immediately on the heels of Nicole's comment, not even recognizing Waverly's reaction for what it was. "I keep tellin' ya, Waves, I don't do chicks," she said coolly.

"Could've fooled me," Waverly muttered.

Nicole couldn't help but grin at Waverly's obvious display of jealousy. She found it mostly amusing, slightly flattering, and more than a little encouraging. Perhaps Gus was right about the whole thing with Champ coming to an end soon, she thought. And then she swiftly reminded herself not to get too excited about it.

Gus just rolled her eyes at the two of them. "You know, she could invoke her right against self-incrimination under Section 13 of the Canadian Charter," she offered helpfully.

"Thanks, Gus," Waverly said dryly.

"Yeah, since when did you become a so well-versed in the Charter?" Wynonna muttered.

A self-satisfied smirk tripped across Nicole's lips. "Yeah, thanks, Gus," she said, enjoying the comradery between them. She glanced at Waverly, amusement dancing in her eyes. "I plead the Thirteenth."

Waverly made a face at her, drawing a laugh from the others. A moment later, she joined in, and they all laughed together again. And once the laughter subsided, their playful banter continued as they finished their desserts.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—5:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Later, after cleaning up the dinner mess, they relaxed together in the Adirondack chairs on the deck, the mellow sounds of classic Country music—some obviously more classic than others—drifting on the warm early-evening breeze. Ronnie Milsap sang of that Smoky Mountain rain, and Loretta Lynn trilled about her pride in being a coal miner's daughter, while Willie and Waylon warbled a cautionary tune about mammas not letting their babies grow up to be cowboys. Barbara Mandrell serenaded them about being country, when country wasn't cool, and Patsy Cline crooned about being crazy.

Somehow, Nicole thought, the genre suited Gus—the tough exterior, and the undeniable warmth that lay hidden just beneath, at least from those who didn't know her. The more she contemplated it, the more she realized it suited Wynonna equally as well. Only Wynonna was far more guarded than Gus, from Nicole's perspective anyway.

When Glen Campbell sang nostalgically about being a soldier at war, remembering the sea waves crashing in against the shore in Galveston, Nicole felt a pang of homesickness nearly as sharp as she had back in Afghanistan, as she recalled the days she'd spent there, splashing in the warm surf of Galveston Bay with her sisters. They'd taken an impromptu trip there, the four of them, just before she deployed for the first time, and that long weekend was still one of her most treasured memories of them together.

And when Dolly Parton started singing about how, despite her better judgment, she found herself rendered completely defenseless by nothing more than a smile from the person she loved, Nicole was struck by how far gone she really was when it came to Waverly Earp. It was then that she realized the classic Country genre suited her in some ways, as well. Amazing, how falling in love made it feel like every single love song in the world was written about the one who'd captured your heart, she mused internally.

Given her new insight, it didn't really surprise her when Johnny Cash's famous song about walking the straight and narrow for the love of his life drew parallels in her own mind about how she would willingly walk any line Waverly Earp drew, if only Waverly were hers. As sure as night is dark and day is light, I keep you on my mind both day and night, the lyrics went, and Nicole knew it was the truth—the woman was always on her mind, even as she dreamed! Had been since the moment she first set eyes on her. Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you… Because you're mine, I walk the line, Johnny sang, and as Nicole silently watched Waverly interacting with her family, she had no choice but to admit that she was guilty of being a complete fool for her, as well. What good would it do to deny it, even to herself?

"Somethin' on your mind, Officer Haught?" Waverly asked, breaking into Nicole's thoughts as her fingertips lightly grazed Nicole's forearm.

An affectionate smile flickered across Nicole's lips, her eyes sweeping across Waverly's face. "Just countin' my blessin's," she answered sweetly.

"You must have a lot of 'em," Waverly surmised. "You've been awfully quiet the past several minutes."

Nicole leaned over, her lips brushing the rim of Waverly's ear. "Well, I had to stop and count you twice," she whispered.

From anyone else, that comment would've sounded completely cheesy. But coming from Nicole, Waverly knew that it was completely sincere. That familiar flush warmed her body, and she offered a shy smile in return. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were flirting with me again," she accused, her tone light and playful.

"Hey, I don't flirt. I just talk," Nicole countered, lifting her hands in feigned innocence. "It's not my fault everything I say comes out smoother than the cream cheese spread on your bagel."

Waverly chuckled, and playfully shoved Nicole's shoulder. "You've been on Tumblr again, haven't you?" she teased, recognizing the line from a meme she'd recently seen on the social media site.

"Guilty as charged," Nicole admitted, looking appropriately penitent. And then an amused laugh tripped from her lips, as Waverly giggled.

"What the fuck are you two whispering about over there?" Wynonna demanded.

Gus sighed. She supposed she should just give up on Wynonna and her cussing.

"Nothin'," Nicole promptly answered; but the grin on her face gave her away as she stole another glance Waverly, who was still busy giggling.

"You know what?" Waverly said suddenly, her eyes still locked on Nicole. "We should play a game."

"A game?" Wynonna sounded dubious.

"Yeah," Waverly confirmed. "We've got tons of 'em in the closet in the den."

"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" Gus exclaimed. She'd always enjoyed evenings spent in front of the fire, playing games with her girls.

Wynonna arched that eyebrow. "You're killin' me here, kid," she intoned, her affection for her sister clear, despite her distaste for games.

"Hey, at least I didn't suggest charades," Waverly quipped.

"True, that!" Wynonna declared, eyes widening in horror.

Waverly laughed, and glanced back at Nicole. "You in?"

"Absolutely!" Nicole exclaimed. Family game night was a favorite of hers. Not to mention, she knew it would give her invaluable insight into these women who were quickly becoming her family of choice.

"Fine," Wynonna sighed resignedly. "But I am not playing Monopoly® with you." She emphasized her refusal. "You kick my ass every time."

"We'll play Life® then," Waverly countered.

"Well, shit," Wynonna cursed. "You kick my ass at that every fuckin' day."

They shared another laugh together, the four of them. And then Waverly excused herself to go find the game. As she walked away, Nicole's eyes never left her. And the moment she reappeared, they met hers again, the two of them sharing a smile, as Alabama crooned in the background: The closer you get, oh yeah, the further I fall. I'll be over the edge now in no time at all. I'm fallin' faster and faster and faster with no time to stall, oh yeah. The closer you get, the further I fall…

Truer words, Nicole thought, the lyrics echoing in the corridors of her heart as she stepped toward Waverly on the deck, meeting her halfway for no other reason than that she felt drawn to her once again. And unbeknownst to Nicole as Waverly smiled into her eyes, her thoughts and feelings echoed Nicole's own.


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—9:15 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

After a rousing game of Life® that lasted more than two hours and ended with Gus coming out on top, and everyone else doing quite well in their own rights, they boxed up the pieces, agreeing that they'd all enjoyed the challenge. Even Wynonna admitted it was fun, and that she might be persuaded to play again sometime. But she made it known that she much preferred a game of poker, or darts, or pool. Those were games where she could kick ass—even Waverly's—and they both knew it.

Waverly returned the game to the closet in the den, and when she reappeared on the deck, she found Wynonna and Nicole arranging blocks of wood in the stone fire pit down below, while Gus gathered the fixin's for S'mores in the kitchen. Not that they needed any more sweets, but a bonfire wasn't a bonfire without S'mores.

She bounded down the back stairs, taking the short flagstone path down to the patio Uncle Curtis built for Gus a few summers ago. The patio was built of flagstone as well, rectangular in shape with a two-foot high flagstone wall with pillars at the corners surrounding it, and covered by a pavilion made of the same sturdy logs as the house. Fashioned similar to a drawbridge, the roof was retractable, allowing for stargazing on a clear night, while protecting the handcrafted furniture that surrounded the elegantly crafted square fire pit from the elements when necessary.

"Did you remember the popcorn popper?" Waverly asked Nicole as she drew near.

"You bet," Nicole answered. "It's in that old steamer trunk in my cargo hold."

"Want me to grab it for you?" Waverly offered.

Glancing up, Nicole met Waverly's gaze with a dimpled grin. She was certain there was a flirty joke in there somewhere, but she decided it would be inappropriate, especially given that Wynonna was within earshot. Instead, she shoved her hand into the front pocket of her jeans, retrieving her keys. "You wouldn't mind?" she asked, checking in.

"'Course not," Waverly shrugged. "You're doin' all the heavy lifting here, haulin' all that wood."

Nicole grinned. "Thanks," she said, tossing the keys to Waverly.

"Hey!" Wynonna exclaimed, sounding disgruntled. "What about me?"

Shoving Nicole's keys into her pocket, Waverly planted her hands on her hips, and arched an eyebrow. "What about you?" she countered, smirking at her sister.

"Well, don't I get some credit too?" Wynonna pouted. "It's not like I'm not helpin' out here."

"It's not a competition, Wyn," Waverly reminded. And then she glanced at Nicole. "Don't let her near the lighter. She tends to set more than the fire pit aflame."

Dropping a log haphazardly on the pile, Wynonna stood upright, rolling her eyes. "That was once, Waverly," she defended. "And Curtis said the lighter malfunctioned."

"A likely story," Waverly said wryly. Grinning at Nicole then, she promised to return shortly. And then she sprinted toward the far end of the driveway where Nicole's SUV was parked beside her Jeep.

"It's really not that dire," Wynonna commented to Nicole once Waverly was out of earshot.

Nicole laughed. "You're sisters, so I just assume there's a lot of exaggeration involved," she commented. "Listening to the two of you banter makes me miss my own sisters."

Wynonna took a swig of her beer. "How many do you have?"

"Three," Nicole answered, crouching down in front of the fire pit, lighter in hand. "All of 'em younger."

Nodding, Wynonna dropped down into one of the padded Adirondack chairs that circled the fire pit, as Nicole worked to start the fire. She propped the heel of her boot on the edge of the seat, and slung an arm over her knee, her half-empty beer bottle dangling from the neck between two fingers. "Guess you're close to them, huh?"

Emotion-filled eyes lifting to meet Wynonna's, Nicole smiled. "They're the best," she answered with obvious affection in her tone. And then she diverted her attention back to building the fire, meticulously placing kindling amongst the larger pieces of wood. "I'm lookin' forward to seein' 'em in a few weeks."

"Are they coming here?" Wynonna asked. She sounded apprehensive.

"No, I'm actually flyin' out to Boston/Cambridge," Nicole answered, as the kindling finally caught fire. Grabbing one of the iron fire pokers from the stand nearby, she expertly stoked the flames.

"You're leaving?" Waverly gasped, her demeanor clearly anxious. The mere thought of Nicole not being there made her heart clench with loneliness. "When?"

Noting the obvious distress in Waverly's expression, in her tone, Nicole set the poker back into the stand, and stood upright, quickly moving toward her. She reached out, gently grasping her biceps. "Hey, it's okay, Waves. I'm not leaving," she soothed gently. "I'm just goin' for Trini's graduation from MIT."

"Really?" Waverly questioned, sounding hopeful.

Curious about her sister's behavior, Wynonna arched an eyebrow. What is it with these two? she wondered, but didn't ask. Waverly was acting like a… She couldn't even put words to it. Not yet, anyway. And so she just continued to watch.

"Yes, really," Nicole reassured. "My whole family's gonna be there. I'm so sorry. I thought I'd mentioned it to you."

Waverly shook her head, indicating that Nicole hadn't mentioned it at all. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'm gonna road trip back to Dallas with my sisters," Nicole expounded. "Y'know, help Trini move her things back. And then I'll fly back home from there. I'll only be gone for about a week."

Relieved beyond measure, Waverly wrapped her arms around Nicole's waist, grasping her tightly, as she leaned into the solid strength of her. It wasn't lost on her that only a few weeks ago, she would have waged an internal war over the mere thought of appearing to be emotionally needy in Nicole's eyes. And now, she didn't even hesitate to reach for her when she needed reassurance.

Nicole, on the other hand, definitely had a war waging inside her—the one that issued increasingly clamorous warnings every single time she held Waverly Earp in her arms. And once again, she chose to ignore them. Closing her eyes, Nicole rested her cheek against Waverly's head as her arms folded around Waverly, pulling her closer; holding her far longer than necessary.

Once Waverly felt calm again, she pulled back just enough to meet Nicole's steady gaze. "Home?" she questioned, recalling Nicole's casual mention of the word, referring to Purgatory as her final destination.

Smiling down at her, Nicole pressed her palms against Waverly's face, her thumbs tenderly caressing Waverly's cheeks. "Yes, home," she reiterated, emphasizing the word. "What part of 'long-haul' don't you get, Waves?" she asked, her tone gentle, not critical.

"The part where you're not going anywhere, I guess," Waverly shrugged. "I'm not really used to that, Nicole."

"Well, get used to it, okay?" Nicole said with a grin. "Because you're not gettin' rid of me that easily. Ya got it?"

Waverly smiled up at her. "Got it."

From her seat near the fire, Wynonna continued to study them as she finished one beer, and popped the cap on the next. They were certainly a curious pair. And she'd never seen Waverly so unguarded with someone new. If she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn they were… Nah. Couldn't be. Waverly wasn't into chicks. She was into Chumps, er… Champ—lord help them all.

Fortunately for her sanity, she thought, she didn't have any more time to contemplate things, because Gus arrived, tray full of fixin's for S'mores, in hand. With a few words to the girls, they walked with Gus back toward the fire, and the next portion of their evening commenced. And in Wynonna's mind, the only thing that could've made the evening better would've been swapping out the beer and chocolate for whiskey and doughnuts.

But, she digressed…


Sunday, May 1, 2016… Gus's House—10:00 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Forty-five minutes later, against a backdrop of an eclectic array of music that streamed from Waverly's iPod, they were all talking and laughing together again, as they lounged around a flaming fire pit, drinking beer, and munching on fresh popcorn and perfectly toasted S'mores. The open-flame popcorn popper proved to be a hit with everyone, especially Waverly, who loved popcorn in just about any form. And when it came time to fix the S'mores, Nicole made a case for warming the graham crackers at the edge of the fire—the way she'd been taught in Girl Scouts. After a thorough teasing from Wynonna over actually having been a Girl Scout, the results where lauded as "brilliant," even by Nicole's tormentor. It made the S'mores a little messier to eat because the chocolate melted a bit more, but everyone agreed that the added crispiness of the graham crackers was well worth the mess.

As they snacked, Waverly and Gus took turns sharing anecdotes about camping trips they had taken with Curtis over the years—and they found themselves a little teary-eyed as they recalled nights similar to this, shared around the campfire. Try as he might, Curtis couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but he would plunk out timeworn whiskey drinkin' cowboy songs on a beat up old guitar he'd had since forever; and Waverly would struggle to keep up on the guitar he'd picked up for her on one of his trips to the big city. It wasn't fancy, but she loved it—and most of all, she loved that it came from him.

Much like Gus, Curtis was gruff on the exterior, but he had a heart of gold, and he'd loved them with every fiber of his being. He'd shown that love with the gift of his time, like teaching Waverly the things he knew, and taking them on little adventures like horseback riding, camping, and rafting, and fishing, and canoeing trips. And their love for him was evident in their tone, as they shared their memories with Wynonna and Nicole.

Hearing their stories made Nicole feel a touch of nostalgia for her own family, and all the adventures she'd shared with her parents and sisters. They'd taken so many trips when she was growing up, many of them involving themes similar to Waverly and Gus's memories with Curtis; and even in her moment of melancholy, she found joy in knowing that these two wonderful women shared such beautiful moments with someone they so obviously loved.

Their stories felt bittersweet for Wynonna, as well, in that she was truly happy for both Waverly and Gus for the memories they'd shared with Curtis. But in the same moment, she felt sad, and maybe even a little envious, for not having shared those times with them. It made her angry—the unfairness of a world that had taken her away from the only family she had left, at the most vulnerable time in her life. But she'd never faulted any of them for it, only herself, and the system that treated her like damaged goods. In the moment though, she tossed that anger aside, determined to enjoy the stories told by the people who meant the most to her in this world—her Gus and Waverly.

When the emotions finally got the better of her, Gus rose from her seat. "Well, it's been a long day. I think I'm headed inside for the night," she announced, feigning a yawn to cover the presence of tears. "You girls stay out here as long as you'd like. You won't bother me none," she said, granting full permission for them to truly enjoy their evening. "Just make sure the fire is banked before you come inside."

"Yes, ma'am," Nicole said seriously.

"And given the amount of alcohol that's been consumed tonight, I'll expect to see y'all for breakfast in the mornin'," Gus added firmly, as she gathered several empties, dropping them into the recycle bin near the edge of the patio. It wasn't a suggestion.

Three heads nodded in unison, indicating the message was received loud and clear. Wynonna was the only one who might've argued, and even she had enough sense not to bother tonight—for more reasons than one. "Hold up, Gus," she said. "I'm comin' in with ya."

"You don't wanna stay with the girls for a bit?" Gus queried. It was highly unusual for Wynonna to give in to orders that she stay, let alone choose to turn in so early.

"Well, I do, but… I can't," Wynonna sighed. "I have to be in early. This adulting shit's for the birds," she declared, as she dragged herself from the chair.

Waverly giggled, as she collected some of the trash from their snacks, dropping it into the appropriate bins. "Suck it up, Sis," she teased, drawing a sneer from Wynonna, and a chuckle from Nicole.

An eyebrow arched. "There are far better uses for my sucking expertise," she smirked, garnering chuckles from both Waverly and Nicole.

"Wynonna!" Gus exclaimed. She was so embarrassed she actually felt her face flush crimson. And then she sighed, and glanced at her youngest niece. "Waverly, you make sure Nicole has whatever she needs tonight."

"Sure thing, Gus," Waverly replied, as she hugged her aunt goodnight. "See you in the morning."

"Thanks, Gus," Nicole said genially. "G'night."

"'Night, Girls," Gus called back, as she and Wynonna followed the footpath back toward the porch. Her voice could be heard chattering at Wynonna as they walked, and within moments, they disappeared into the house, leaving Waverly and Nicole alone by the fire.

Once they were out of sight, Waverly pulled some of the chair cushions down onto the patio floor in front of the seat she'd been sharing with Nicole. She sat down then, crossed legged, and leaning back against the wooden furniture, she patted the spot beside her with her hand.

Accepting the invitation without words, Nicole grinned, and scooted down next to her.

It was a perfect night. The roof was retracted, and they settled together near the fire, under a canopy of stars. This was one thing Nicole truly loved about Purgatory—the twinkling stars in the clear evening sky. Unlike the harsh lights and smog she'd endured while working on the police force in Dallas, it reminded her of evenings on her grandfather's ranch as she was growing up. She and her sisters and their cousins had often camped out under the stars on those warm spring and summer nights. There was always a campfire, and plenty of junk food to go around. And most of all there was fun to be had by all.

And now here she was with Waverly, sharing a night so perfect it was a poem begging to be written. She leaned back, allowing the cushions to support her as she rested her neck against the edge of the seat behind her. "God, it's so beautiful out here, Waves," she murmured softly into the cooling night air. "Reminds me of bein' out in the open fields at the ranch growin' up."

"You miss it," Waverly said knowingly, as she moved closer to Nicole. Wrapping an arm around Nicole's bicep, she leaned into her side, and rested her head against Nicole's shoulder, gazing with her up at the stars overhead.

"I miss simpler times," Nicole shared, her right hand lightly stroking Waverly's arm. "It's one of the reasons I came here—to find peace, and harmony, and… a real connection with the community I serve."

"And you had to come all the way to Canada to find those things?" Waverly queried; a touch of tenderness in her tone. "You couldn't do that closer to home and family?"

"This is home now," Nicole said with quiet conviction.

"You know, that's the second time you've said that tonight," Waverly pointed out, her intonation asking the question.

"I mean it," Nicole assured.

"And family?" Waverly gently prodded.

"I'll always be close to them, always miss them," Nicole admitted. She turned her head, glancing at Waverly then. "But… I think I'm on my way to building a family of choice right here," she whispered, her eyes slowly searching Waverly's face.

A tremulous smile flickered across Waverly's lips. "I like the way that sounds," she whispered.

"Me, too," Nicole quietly agreed.

Waverly rested her head on Nicole's shoulder again, relaxing against her. And Nicole pressed her temple against the crown of Waverly's head, as they returned to their mutual stargazing. "You seem more like yourself again," Nicole commented a few minutes later. "Feeling better about things?"

"What do you mean?" Waverly asked.

"You were… kinda distant tonight," Nicole noted gently. She'd noticed right away that while Waverly was physically close to her all evening, she'd seemed emotionally disconnected in a way Nicole had never experienced. "After I told you about Boston."

"The thought of you being gone makes me sad," Waverly confessed.

Nicole brushed her hand over Waverly's, squeezing gently. "I won't be gone long," she reassured. "And we can talk every day." And then she released Waverly's hand, only to have Waverly grasp hers in return. Their fingers intertwined as if by design.

"I don't think we've even gone a whole day without seeing each other since the first night we spent together," Waverly commented.

"There's always Facetime," Nicole suggested.

"It won't be the same," Waverly said, sounding forlorn.

"For me, either," Nicole agreed.

"I'll miss you so much, Nicole."

Delivered on an affectionate whisper, Waverly's confession tugged at Nicole's heart. Glancing up, she tumbled into Waverly's gaze, where they held one another captive for far longer than necessary; both searching, neither making a move to tear away.

Reaching up, Nicole brushed a tender thumb along Waverly's cheek. "I'll miss you, too, Waves," she whispered. "More than you could possibly know."

Waverly's heartbeat tripped beneath her ribs. And in that moment, she once again felt that overwhelming need to kiss Nicole—and so much more. It was so strong that it terrified her. Not that Nicole was a woman—that didn't bother her in the least. But that she felt such a penetrating need for her. All the frickin' time!

Slowly, her tongue flitted across her lips, wetting them, as he heart pounded erratically in her chest. "Nicole, I…"

A nervous smile flickered across Nicole's face. "You never did tell me what I won this afternoon," she murmured softly. Her own heart thudding so powerfully in her chest that she was certain Waverly could hear it.

"What is it that you want, Officer Haught?" Waverly whispered softly, her breath warm against Nicole's face.

Her own breath catching in her chest, Nicole swallowed—hard—as she slowly searched Waverly's intense gaze, that soft green now turned coppery in the firelight's glow. Everything in her longed to give in to what she'd wanted from the moment she'd first set eyes on this woman. "You know what I want, Waves," she whispered, her breathing now labored.

"What's stopping you from taking it?" Waverly challenged. Her insides trembled, an amalgam of nerves and desire, and she prayed she wouldn't lose her nerve.

"It's not mine to take," Nicole answered simply. She wanted Waverly Earp with every fiber of her being, but she would never take advantage of her in a moment of weakness, mutual as it may have been.

That disarming smile flickered across Waverly's mouth, the warmth of her breath now mingling with Nicole's, as she slowly searched those gorgeous russet eyes, the tiny flecks of gold and green glistening in the firelight. "What if I told you… I wouldn't say 'no'?" she posed, the heat in her belly igniting sparks, as her heart raced beneath her breasts. She hoped she sounded far more confident than she felt.

A soft gasp fell from Nicole's slightly-parted lips, and her entire body flushed with heat. Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip, and then they flickered open, once again meeting Waverly's own. "Waverly, what are you doin'?" she murmured, confusion in her tone.

"If you have to ask, then I must be doin' it wrong," Waverly grinned tremulously.

"We shouldn't be doin' this at all," Nicole whispered softly, as those warning bells once again clamored in her head. And yet, she couldn't drag herself away.

"Probably not," Waverly agreed, her belly coiling with excitement and desire, as she leaned impossibly closer. And then, with her mouth just barely a hairsbreadth away from Nicole's own, she exhaled softly, "Nicole, please…" She was equal parts excited and terrified, and all she wanted was for Nicole to make the damned move—and let her off the hook. It would be so much easier if Nicole would just lead her out of her comfort zone.

Delivered on a pleading whimper, the sound of her name on those soft pink lips, the warmth of Waverly's breath on her face, was nearly Nicole's undoing. "Waverly…" she breathed, biting her lower lip again as she contemplated what she knew was wrong, and yet felt so completely right.

"Hmm-mm…" Waverly hummed, brushing her fingertips across Nicole's lips to hush her protests. "Don't say no…"

The last thing on earth Nicole wanted to do was to turn Waverly down. But that strong moral compass that had been ingrained in her since childhood insisted that she must. And so, with the last bit of self-control she possessed, those darkening russet eyes shuttered closed again, and instead of leaning closer, she moved away. "We can't do this, Waves," she repeated, this time more forcefully, as she gently separated herself from Waverly, seeking physical and emotional distance form her once again. She knew without a doubt that if Waverly pushed even a little bit more, she would shatter every single one of her defenses. That was the kind of power the woman held over her—and she didn't mind it in the least. "I can't do this…"

"Why the hell not, Nicole?" Waverly barked, yanking herself from Nicole's embrace. She was far more hurt, than angry. But anger was easier to manage.

Immediately, they both felt the loss, and within seconds, they were on their feet, the connection severed. "Because you have a boyfriend—and I have a conscience," Nicole retorted, sounding much harsher than she'd intended. Quickly, she collected herself, saying, "Besides that, we've both been drinkin', and I…"

"I'm not drunk, Officer!" Waverly snapped.

"I didn't say that you were," Nicole replied, her tone its usual calm again, as she reached for her. "But I don't wanna end up bein' somethin' you regret."

I could never regret you. Waverly dropped her head. "You're the one who swaggered into Shorty's, carrying on about not wanting to wait when you see something you want," she muttered accusingly, but that didn't stop her from feeling like a two-timing ass, despite Champ's own piss-poor behavior. And on top of it, now she felt like a fool for practically throwing herself at Nicole. Sometimes liquid courage was a backstabbing bitch.

Nicole emitted a short, almost embarrassed laugh. "Honey, that was mostly bluster and bravado," she admitted. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget my name."

Despite herself, inside, Waverly softened. I can't imagine ever forgetting anything about you, she thought, but didn't voice. Outwardly, she stiffened her jaw. "Don't call me 'Honey'," she snapped. "If you don't want me, then don't take liberties."

"Not want you?" Nicole said, incredulously. How could you even think that? "Are you outta your frickin' mind?"

"What, now you're calling me crazy?" Waverly retorted.

"Of course not," Nicole replied. "Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Why not?" Waverly challenged, eyes flashing. "You've made it perfectly clear you don't want me to put anything else there."

"Oh-hhh, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!" Nicole muttered under her breath, quoting Shakespeare.

"Don't be cute with me," Waverly warned.

Witnessing their argument through the open window over the kitchen sink, Gus couldn't help but notice the fire in Waverly's ordinarily soft eyes. Nicole brought that fierceness, that passion, out in her. All that child's life, Gus had watched her tiptoe around the edges, always careful not to take a misstep or make a mistake. Waverly watched life from the sidelines, instead of jumping in and truly living it. Ward, and all his careless ways, had been responsible for it all: for Waverly's restraint—and Wynonna's recklessness. Hell, even Willa's death and disappearance. She had cursed her brother-in-law more times than she could count, for the hell that had rained down on her girls because of him.

And now, Waverly had finally found someone who was strong enough, confident enough to challenge her, and to bring out the very best of what she held so closely, so protectively inside. Gus's heart ached to see her finally embrace the happiness she knew she could find with Nicole.

Christ on crutches! How did this get so far out of hand? Sighing, Nicole moved closer again. "I'm not," she said, penitently. "I'm sorry for bein' such an asshole. I don't wanna fight with you, Waves."

There were tears in Waverly's eyes when she met Nicole's gaze again. "I don't wanna fight with you, either," she sniffled.

Gently, Nicole touched Waverly's face. "I want more than just a fling with you, Waverly," she whispered. Hell, if it were just sex she wanted, she certainly wouldn't have had to look very far. She'd had plenty of offers since arriving in Purgatory. But none of those women even turned her head for a moment—and they certainly hadn't captured her heart. From the moment she first set eyes on her, Waverly Earp was all she could see.

Sniffling again, Waverly nodded. "I'm sorry, Nicole," she said quietly, chastising herself for messing things up again. "I shouldn't be doing this with you. Especially not while I'm still with Champ," she sighed.

Why are you, then? Nicole thought, but didn't dare ask.

Waverly caught the questioning expression in Nicole's hazy russet eyes, reading it without words. "I'm not just playing with you, Nicole," she said softly, yet with conviction. "I would never do that to you. Least, not on purpose, anyway."

"I believe you," Nicole said softly. And it was true. They both knew it. She was quiet for a moment, contemplative. "May I ask you somethin'?"

Her eyes on Nicole, Waverly simply nodded.

"Why isn't he here today?"

There it was.

Waverly had wondered how long it would take before Nicole asked about him directly; given all the time they'd been spending together. But she hadn't expected her to be so upfront about it. Now, she actually wondered why, because Nicole had never been anything other than upfront with her from the moment they met. "Because I didn't invite him," she answered forthrightly.

"Why not?" Nicole asked. "I mean… he is your boyfriend, right?"

"Technically, yeah, I guess he is," Waverly said noncommittally.

A sharp laugh burst from Nicole's lips. "What does that even mean?" she asked, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated.

"Well, I haven't officially broken things off with him…" Waverly shrugged.

"But?" Nicole pressed. Christ, it's like pulling teeth!

"I haven't seen him since he stormed out of the house that afternoon," Waverly answered. "Heck, I'd barely seen him since Shorty's memorial," she admitted. "And honestly, I didn't really even want to see him then."

"Mind if I ask why?"

"I'm still really pissed at him over Wynonna," Waverly answered bluntly.

"Wynonna?" Nicole's tone begged the question.

"Yeah," Waverly sighed. "Long story short, the day she came back to town, he tried to screw her in my apartment."

Nicole's expression was one of surprise. "And she was a willing participant?" She hoped she didn't sound as angry as she felt.

Waverly shook her head. "It's not what you think," she said. "Champ was with Uncle Curtis when he died, and Wyn was just working him for information. She never would've slept with him."

"But he would've willingly slept with her," Nicole surmised, feeling relieved at the explanation for Wynonna's behavior. She didn't even bother asking about why Wynonna was so curious about Curtis's death. She wouldn't have gotten a straight answer anyway.

"And pretty much any other willing female in town," Waverly said with a caustic laugh. Crossing her arms, she rolled her eyes.

"Look, I'm the last person who should be giving you advice on your relationship," Nicole admitted. "Ulterior motives, and all," she grinned. "But you deserve so much better than that, Waves."

"Oh, I wouldn't exactly call your motives ulterior," Waverly said, grinning. "Not in the true sense of the word, anyway."

Nicole chuckled. "Touché," she grinned, fully admitting that her motives where Waverly was concerned were anything but hidden. Hell, she'd been blatant about them from the moment she met the woman. "Point is, I shouldn't say anything else."

"You don't have to," Waverly replied. "Wynonna can't stand him, and Gus is pissed as hell at him for what he pulled with Wyn. And I…"

Dropping her gaze, she bit her lower lip as she contemplated how she felt in her heart. She didn't love Champ. If she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she never had; and even if he weren't a lying cheat, she never would. So why haven't I just walked away?

"You what, Waverly?" Nicole gently prodded, even as her own thoughts spun out of control. So much had just transpired between them, and so unexpectedly, that both her brain and body were on overload, and she struggled to find her equilibrium.

Drawn from her thoughts by the sound of Nicole's voice, Waverly glanced up, meeting that searching gaze. Moving close again, she brushed her fingertips against the angle of Nicole's jaw. "Just… don't give up on me, okay?" she whispered pleadingly. "Please?"

The last time she'd heard something similar from Waverly—that night at the Pin Drop—Nicole wasn't positive she was interpreting the meaning correctly. And so, she'd waited for a sign. This time, she couldn't have been more certain—with that pleading tone in her voice reflecting in those green eyes that swirled with emotion, Waverly Earp was asking her to wait. A tender smile played across her lips. "I promised you, I never would," she whispered. "And I always keep my word."

"I know you do," Waverly replied softly. "I just… I needed a little reassurance."

"Well, you have it," Nicole pledged.

"Thank you," Waverly whispered, sounding desperately relieved as she wrapped her arms around Nicole's waist once again, leaning fully into the solid strength of her. And as Nicole held her close, Waverly silently vowed to handle the situation with Champ before things got any more complicated—and in that same moment, Nicole vowed to remain patient and steadfast as she waited for Waverly, just as she'd promised. It wouldn't be easy, she knew, given the intensity of their feelings—especially now that she knew without a doubt that Waverly felt them too—but she knew in her heart that Waverly Earp was more than worth the wait.


Friday, May 27, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—3:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Yeah, Waverly, maybe just friends, Waverly groaned internally after being startled back to reality by the shattering of glass. She'd been so distracted by her thoughts that she walked right into the kitchen door, dropping the tray of empty glassware she was carrying. After all, it's completely normal to plead with your friend to wait for you. It's completely sane to beg her to kiss you!

What the hell was I thinking?

She hadn't been thinking. That was the problem. Instead of thinking things through, she'd let her guard down, and just acted on her feelings. That was something she never did! Wynonna was the reckless one. Waverly calculated every move.

Until that night…

Her thoughts turned then to all the furtive glances and shy smiles, and how those exchanges had grown bolder over time. And she thought about the way her belly turned somersaults, and her heartbeat trilled every time Nicole looked into her eyes. Friends steal secret glances at each other, don't they? And they get butterflies just looking at each other, right?

Right.

Wrong.

She sighed internally, as she bent down, picking up the larger broken pieces of glass and dropping them onto the tray. A moment later, Gus was there, broom and dust pan in hand. But she barely even registered her presence, so lost was she in thoughts of Nicole.

No one had ever given her butterflies the way Nicole Haught did. All she had to do was think about her and the fluttering began—like now! And every time she looked at her, her brain stopped working, and she was rendered a babbling idiot. When she did finally manage to string a coherent sentence together, somehow it always seemed to morph into flirtatious banter. Friends flirt with each other, and they get jealous when they think the other person is flirting with someone else. Sure they do.

No, they don't.

Her thoughts turned then to all of those sweet, tender touches, and the way Nicole's hand felt in her own. They just… fit. And the warm sensation she felt each time she fell asleep in Nicole's arms was the most comforting thing she'd ever experienced. Friends certainly hold one another all night long. They do—don't they?

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was fooling herself—that they both were, and had been almost from the start. If she hadn't known it before that night at Gus's, she certainly knew it after. She still couldn't believe what she'd done. Despite her insistence to Nicole that she wasn't drunk, the liquid courage was to blame—or so she'd told herself, repeatedly, in the days that followed. Anything was safe except the truth; because contrary to the old adage, the truth did not set you free… it only left you hurting. Her aching heart was the living proof.

Just friends?

Yeah, right…


Friday, May 27, 2016… Ghost River County Municipal Offices—3:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

A few blocks away, Nicole Haught found herself contemplating the very same questions, and arriving at the same conclusions. Yeah, Waverly, maybe just friends, she thought sarcastically, when her attention was yanked back to the present by the crackle of the dispatch radio at the front desk. Thankfully, the call wasn't for her. She couldn't have concentrated on it anyway, too lost was she in her own ruminations. After all, most of my close friends have begged me to wait for them. They've all begged me to kiss them at one point or another, too.

As if.

She thought about all the covert glances and bashful smiles, and how they'd both become less guarded with one another over time, but never lost the sweetness of those exchanges. And she thought about the way her belly tightened, and her heart raced every time Waverly looked into her eyes. Friends steal secret glances at each other, don't they? And they get butterflies just looking at each other, right?

Wrong.

No one had ever given her butterflies the way Waverly Earp did. All she had to do was think about her and that sweet flutter began, even when she was frustrated with her—like now. Sometimes just looking at her caused Nicole's brain to short-circuit, leaving her completely tongue-tied. And when she wasn't tongue-tied, she was flirting. Endlessly. Yep, friends flirt with each other. And they get jealous when they think the other person is flirting with someone else. Sure they do.

No, they don't.

And then there were all the tender touches, and the way Waverly's hand felt in her own. And then there was warm sensation of Waverly falling asleep in her arms. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right as holding Waverly through the night, or waking up next to her as the morning light streamed through the curtains, welcoming them to a new day.

Just friends?

Yeah, right…

After that night, she'd been so certain where they were headed. Everything about Waverly—words and actions—told her they would be together someday. They'd gone to bed with the agreement that while they would share Waverly's bed, they wouldn't sleep the way they usually did, as if their bodies were one—and they'd woken up entangled in one another's arms anyway. Neither of them knew which one had moved first, and if they were honest, they would've admitted that neither of them cared.

Nicole remembered being on top of the world the following morning. And how the day spent with Waverly had done everything to keep that feeling alive. They'd saddled up the horses again, riding them down to one of the ponds on the property where they shared a picnic lunch on a blanket in the grass beneath a huge oak tree. They didn't talk about anything that happened the night before; but it wasn't awkward. It was just simply understood that everything would work itself out.

Now, on the heels of Waverly's comment about being just friends, a part of her wanted to be angry. But mostly, she just felt sad and alone. Even when they'd argued that night, it hadn't lasted but a few minutes before they made amends. But today… it just felt like the hurt and misunderstanding would never end.

What the hell happened to cause such a complete turnaround?

It was that question upon which Nicole was pondering when her phone rang a few moments later. Her heart fluttered in her chest with a sense of hope that it might be Waverly. But glancing at her Caller ID, her heart sank instead. Despite herself, she smiled anyway. It was Kyler. And when she answered, Nicole didn't have to ask why she was calling. She already knew.

TBC in Chapter 8—Closing Time…