It was an odd feeling. A mix of apathy and numbness. The kind of feeling where every small touch sends a surge of a thousand needles through one's nerves. But not a physical touch, the touch of words and their hidden meanings. The touch of dagger like eyes tearing him to shreds with a simple double take. It was something he had grown used to, being unkempt and all. He saw little reason to try. In a time of vulnerability, it was hard to admit that every judgment was a potentially fatal blow to his dignity.

He refused to admit it, however. From first glance he seemed in perfect normality. It was the a composure that was envied. Life had returned to as it always had been after his mother had died. A hollow existence with nothing to live for. Living day to day, wondering what each day would bring. Wondering if maybe he would have the pleasure of ending the brutal cycle.

Caring even less than before his encounter with the eastern girl, he dressed without his beige jacket. He had removed his red bandana, and done away with his rifle. Dealing with outlaws was an inherited habit he sought to end. Even his father had frowned upon doing it himself, he saw little point in doing it himself. One thing he kept was his revolver, still holstered in his belt. All he had were the bullets in his gun and the thin button up cotton shirt on his back.

Maybe he would resort to a life of drinking his troubles away, turn into his own form of Uncle. He never admired the man, but his dreams of becoming a writer seemed so far off. Everything he used to see worth fighting for was fated to become a faded dream. His horse did not speed into town as it once had. The trot he forced was paced along the dirt road.

The last time he felt this low was the morning he woke to find his own mother's lifeless body laid on his father's double bed. Not many had the displeasure in life of self-burying their own kin, even those who did usually had some loved ones to fall back on. Not him, at least he had no hope anymore. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the muggy atmosphere.

He fondled the leather stern in his palm as he neared Blackwater. The shadow of the church's steeple stretched to the east as the golden star neared the western horizon. It would be dark soon by the looks of it. He kicked his Standardbred into a faster walk.

Something unexpected caught his attention however, after tipping his hat to a passing pedestrian. Turning his neutral eyes to a sight that stopped his heart in the distance. The smaller teenaged girl dressed in a floppy expensive hat. It was as if the southern style she had grown into over the course of the two months had bled out overnight. She was entering the black gates surrounding the church yard. On a Thursday evening? Curiosity instantly began to bounce inside his head hollow with thought. Following her could end in disaster if he was caught, but maybe he could talk some sense into her. If she would give him a moment to explain.

He dismounted his steed outside the gates, moving slowly to stay a distance behind her as she opened the doors to the church. The fact that people made a job out of this, stalking individuals, humored him. Usually those kind of people had shady purposes. Soon enough was able to slip through the wooden doors with minimal sound only minutes after her. He stepped with the soft soled feet of a redskin, stopping in the back of the chapel. Breathing out in relief, he laid a hand on the pew in front of him.

The church was empty, all but the girl he suspected to be Alice. It was still decorated the way he had remembered, though, from the many years ago he made his one and only visit. It's slender window panes stretched from the foot of each pew to the shackled rooftops. A single traditional stain glassed circular decoration allowed the grace of the lord's rays to shine through in the front wall. But at the moment the elaborate colors were not his distraction, but the sobs that began to ring out from the lungs of the Thatcher girl.

Was she crying? It shocked him that he was taken off guard, she did storm off pretty upset after their last encounter. He blamed his clueless mind on being a man. A throbbing sensation started in his chest, a strange feeling. It was as if a string hand had begun to strangle his heart. How could he feel guilty? That girl had gotten him involved in something he never wanted to be a part of, feelings. There was a reason he preferred to stay numb.

He listened intently to the girl's voice. She must have been praying out loud, for she had begun to speak to herself. At least he assumed so, because there was no one else in the room that she knew of,

"Dear Lord, I cannot take this another day." Another sob escaped her lips. She knealed in the space between pews, crossing her cold slender fingers together to pray, "This agony. This dreading of returning home." a pathetic chuckle masked her tears. She did not wipe them away. No one was here to see her, and she had no one to impress but God, "It's quite funny how just two months ago I dreaded arriving here, and now I do not wish to leave."

"Dear Lord, if it is in your plan I will marry Clark. For through your will I will gain the strength. I just wish there was another way. That maybe I could choose my own fate."

Stupid girl. Of course you could choose your own fate. But then again, from the way she had explained it the first time they had met, maybe she was not. Her parent's had her trapped, trapped between submission and escape. On one hand she could follow their hopes for her and become the daughter they wanted. On the other hand, she could become her own person. An idea probably all but too sweet for her. She had tried, and failed. Like a bird in a cage she was stuck once more. Maybe if someone, anyone could encourage her to just open her gates, she could be free. To be free to decide her own fate,

"Forgive me, Lord. For my absurdity. It was my complete fault in sinful thoughts of the Marston boy."

Sinful thoughts? Damn. Who'd have thought that merely listening bring such a pain to his chest. This whole time he had repressed any such feelings for her. For two reasons. One, that she was already due to be wed. Against her will or not, she was not to be thought of in that way. And two, he couldn't afford heartbreak.

"I've grown to care for this man. I know that many do not understand, do not care to accept him. I'd like to think I've seen past his exterior. He is kind and understanding, and-" She paused, holding back her pleading sobs. They had calmed for the most part, but it was still evident in her convincing tone that she was tortured in thought, "He's been through so much. I've begun to hate myself for potentially adding to his burden."

"Dear Lord, grant me the strength. The strength to please my mother and father, and to relieve this man of my pesterance. I will need it to get through this life I will begin with Clark. Without your strength... I might very well kill myself."

"You wouldn't do it." Her whole body convulsed, jumping to turn faster than humanly possible. Her face displayed a surprised horror in his presence. It was impossible to tell whether it was from mere shock or embarrassment in him hearing her personal prayers, " I've considered it myself, tried a couple times." Jack started down the isle towards the girl, keeping his eyes on the wooden floorboards. Her mouth fell open in confusion, her eyes still frozen in shock, " It takes will. Will and strength you don't care to have."

"H-how. W-when did you...?"

"I heard enough." He shinned a pained smile to her, to which she attempted to hide her pink cheeks. She shifted from her kneeling position to sit sideways on the pew, her eyes falling to the ground avoiding his gaze,

"I thought you wanted me to stay away from you?" His smile faded at the comment,

"You know why, Alice."

"Then why are you here. Why did you follow me!" Anger filled her accusation as she shot her fury filled eyes up at the standing man. He sighed, taking a seat in the pew behind her,

"Some things were left unsaid. I don't think you fully understand my reasoning." Her eyes softened, but a hardness was still evident in her tone,

"If you heard me earlier, I know full well that I need to return home. I don't need your, your hillbilly advice!" Once again she had convinced herself to be upset. She crossed her arms, turning her eyes back to the ground in anger. This whole encounter had turned into a flurry of emotions for her. Jack merely laughed at her mood swings, it amused him. Shaking his head, he continued,

"Sounds like it when you start talking suicide." She mumbled, frustrated in defeat,

"Say what you need to. I'll listen to as much as I care to." He rolled his eyes at her, sighing as he bobbed his head. Leaning over, he began to rub his palms together as he tried to think of what to say,

"I'm gonna be completely honest. When I first met you, I thought you were a whiny little spoiled teenage girl. Even after listening to your story, my opinion still didn't change much. Sacrifices have to be made, and unfortunately you being the daughter of a rich man, this is one of those sacrifices."

"But after spending some time with you, I-... I can't lie. I began to care about you, Alice. I really did. Despite the fact that I knew you were engaged and I told myself I'd never fall for a women, you made me." Why did these words feel so sour against his tongue. Was it the fact that they were oddly convincing to him that these were merely fantasies at were about to end? Through it all, Alice found herself with a broken half smile at his admitting, "But that means nothing now. It never it."

"Of course it does, Jack. Because I feel the same way!" She turned in her position to face him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, "We can make it work."

"Stop talkin' like that. You sounded so convinced just a minute ago."

"Not after what you've said."

"Alice, listen to me, alright? You had the right idea before. Going back to New York is your best bet for a happy future, your parents know that."

"My parents-" She stood on her knees, wringing her hands on the back of the wooden pew frantically. Jack cut her off, however, finally lifting his head to convince her in a very monotone yet convincing voice. It sounded almost pained, but convincing none the less,

"Parents have a way of knowing what's best for their child. In my case, it just took them a little while to figure that out." He stood, excusing himself from the bench like structure. Alice panicked, standing also. He held out a hand, signaling her to stay as he took a step backwards toward the door,

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing you have to concern yourself with."

"Jack!" She pleaded with concern,

"They're waiting for you back east, don't disappoint them." At that, he turned to make a hasty exit. Leaving Alice alone in the chapel once more.