CHAPTER TEN

For a few weeks after Lou left, the weather was gorgeously autumnal. The freak snowstorm was nearly forgotten as we basked in the pleasant coolness of each day. Harry and I began to once again make our rounds, pulling alongside stages and the occasional train. We did rather nicely for ourselves, in preparation of the winter weather that would surely come. We preferred not to work in the winter.

The snow came again in late November, this time not letting up until spring came. I longed for Lou. Nights by the fire with Harry just didn't cut it. He certainly wasn't interested in poetry. Spring arrived, greeting us like a lover's embrace, warm and friendly and inviting. Harry and I had passed the winter by trekking often to town, spending nights in the hotel when we weren't spending them in the saloon. I met a girl called Marie, and we began keeping company. Within a fortnight she looked into my eyes and told me she had never loved any man as much as she loved me. I beat a hasty retreat. Harry met a girl by the name of Suellen, and when spring came he announced that they were getting married.

I wasn't surprised, but I was a bit frustrated. I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with myself. Harry informed me that he and Suellen were heading back to Abilene to be with his family and to live "decent, respectable lives". I didn't point out the irony in this coming from a former thief and his ex-prostitute wife. They were married in March amid spring breezes and blossoming flowers. I was best man, mostly by default. And then I saw them off at the station when they headed to Texas.

I found myself alone. I hadn't been alone in years. I wandered around the house, not sure what I should do. Marie visited me; she seemed to have quite lost her heart altogether. I was as kind as I could be in the face of her devotion, but my heart still pined for Lou, and I could not give Marie what she asked for.

That spring I began to make trips to see Lou. That is, to watch her. I never let her see me in return. I rode out to the Express station at least once every fortnight, and managed to catch several glimpses of her.

With each visit she grew lovelier and lovelier, the masculine disguise slowly slipping away. I watched her as she laughed with the Kid, pulled Cody's blond hair, joyously hugged Ike. Occasionally I would stop in town and ask after the riders. That was how, in the summer, I learned that Kid and Lou were getting married. She had at last been able to drop the disguise and live her life on her own terms. Even as my heart broke, I was happy for her.

She saw me one day. I hadn't meant for her to. It was a lazy summer afternoon; I had spent the day searching for her in vain. At last giving up, I turned and headed my horse back in the direction of McGovern Falls.

I ran straight into Lou. She was alone, dressed in breeches and a white shirt, her hair curling over her ears, her brown eyes shining. Her hat hung down her back, her soft hair exposed to the sun. She was riding slowly on a magnificent black horse, face turned upward to the warm rays that bathed her face. When she saw me, she stopped short.

"Well, hey, good-lookin!" she exclaimed.

My heart thudded. "Hello, Lou."

Her smile shone at me as bright as the day. "What are you doin' here?" she asked in genuine surprise.

"Just passing through."

She cocked her head to one side, studying me. "You look much better."

"The last time you saw me I was recovering from a bullet wound," I said, grinning.

"And you're doin' much better," she retorted. "Just like I said."

My spirits lifted. Perhaps I had missed this most of all: the verbal sparring, the playful banter, the way only Lou could give me a run for my money. "Yes, just as you say," I agreed.

"Stop a while. Let's chat!" She slid down off her horse and waited for me.

"I don't know, Lou..."

"Chicken!"

I looked into her mocking eyes. "All right," I relented, dismounting. We walked to a clearing of trees and sat down amid a circle of stones.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"Just ridin'. Enjoyin' the sun."

"I heard you were getting married. Congratulations."

"How did you hear that?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, well, I, uh...ah, well, I...I asked."

"I see," Lou replied knowingly. "You just happened to pass through and you just happened to ask about me, is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"Liar."

"Guilty."

She grinned and looked away. "You've been thinkin' about me, Rafferty?"

I filled my gaze with her profile, the sweet, clean lines. "I haven't been thinking about much else."

"I've thought about you, too."

"Have you?" I kept my voice as light as possible.

"Tried to stop myself," continued Lou, "but I just don't seem to be able to."

"Oh..."

"I didn't trust what I felt for you, Rafferty. That's why I left."

"Sorry?" I was confused.

"You were just this good-lookin', good-for-nothin' thief. So you read poetry, so you quoted Shakespeare...why was that enough to turn my head when I had a man like Kid waitin' for me, worryin' himself sick over me? Kid makes me feel safe; you don't make me feel safe, you just make me feel...You're just so different from anyone I've ever met, Rafferty."

I sensed the danger that could arise out of such a conversation. I said, "Lou, I don't think we'd better keep talking like this. It's been a long time since we saw each other last, you don't want..."

"I want Kid," she answered quietly. "I love him. I just didn't like knowin' I'd left you the way I had, thinkin' you were the only one who was feelin' somethin'." Her head lifted and she met my eyes with her own. "Because you weren't."

"Oh," I whispered again.

She scooted closer to me and took one of my hands in hers. "It was a strange and wonderful week," she said.

"Yes." I closed my fingers around hers.

"I felt so different after I left you. Like I'd changed somehow." I had to strain to hear her. Her voice had faded away.

"I'd changed, too," I said.

She rested her head on my shoulder. I bent my face to hers and she did not protest. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of her, till I could feel her lips brushing against mine. We shared a long kiss, as sweet and gentle and innocent as the touch of summer that danced around us. When we separated, she smiled at me. "I'd better go," she said.

I nodded.

She rose and I followed her as she walked to her horse. "I won't see you again, will I?" she said.

"No. I'm going away." As I spoke it I knew it was the truth.

"I understand. It's for the best. I really do love him, you know."

"I know you do." And I did.

I watched as she hoisted herself up onto her horse. We stared at each other. "'Tis better to have loved and lost," I said, "than never to have loved at all."

"Do you believe that?"

"No. Tennyson was a liar."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that, as Francis Bacon said, 'It is impossible to love and be wise'; I believe von Goethe, who said 'We are shaped and fashioned by what we love'; I believe the man who said, 'Within you I lose myself, without you I find myself wanting to be lost again'."

She smiled at me, remembering this side of me, hiding behind other men's words. "What do you believe?" she asked again, emphasizing 'you'.

"I believe that most people are as happy as they make up their minds to be, and I've made up my mind to be happy. You changed me, Lou. You did that for me." I squinted up at her as the sun shone into my eyes.

Lou reached down and slapped my shoulder playfully. "You go find yourself a girl, Rafferty."

"There won't ever be anyone to equal you, Lou."

"You'll find someone."

"Perhaps."

"Take care of yourself."

"You do the same. And make sure that husband of yours takes care of you, too."

"He will."

"Bye, Lou."

"Bye, Rafferty." But she didn't move to go. She stayed with her gaze locked in mine.

"Lou?"

"Rafferty..." I watched in shock as she slid down off her horse again and came running into my arms. I felt her lips pressing all over my face, my nose, my lips, my forehead, my neck; gentle kisses that stirred my heart back to life.

"Lou," I began, bewildered.

With a sob she burrowed her nose into the crevice between my neck and shoulder. "Oh, Rafferty!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled against my skin. "I hate myself sometimes."

I drew her closer, closing my eyes, burying my nose in her hair. "Why do you hate yourself, Lou?"

"For feelin' like this when I love the Kid so much."

"Lou," I said hesitantly, backing away from her, "I don't know much about love, but if you love the Kid that much, why do you feel anything for me?"

"I don't know." Her face was streaked with bright tears. She wiped them harshly away with the sleeve of her shirt. "Dammit, I just don't know."

"You don't trust me, do you?"

She sighed. "Not really, no."

"Well, then I think your decision's already made." I shook my head sadly and began to walk to my horse.

"No!" She lurched after me, grabbing my arm and pulling me around. "Don't leave. I'm so confused."

"I don't want to add to your confusion, Lou."

"I know you don't. It's just..." she ran her hands roughly through her hair. "It's just I been down this road before, with Jimmy, and it confused me, and it hurt him and it hurt the Kid, and I just can't do that again!"

"Then don't." I did not say it pitifully, only with resignation.

"But you - you make me feel so alive, Rafferty. Maybe not safe the way the Kid makes me feel, but I feel good inside, happy, alive. Oh, but the Kid makes me happy, too!" She sat down in a heap on the ground, her words miserable with frustration and confusion. "He does; he's lovely, he's wonderful, and he makes me happy. But he don't make me feel the way you do."

"Lou..." I crouched down before her, tilting her head up to look at me. "He's a better man than I am. Remember that. He's good and honest and pure and decent. I'm not any of those things. I'm just a man who loves you."

She grabbed my hand, clutching it to her lips. "I just don't know what to do."

"I'll tell you what you need to do," I said. "You need to think about this. Lou, I love you, and I know I'll never love anyone else. But if you choose the Kid, I will go on. I'll love you for the rest of my days, but I'll survive. I can't speak for Kid, but Lou, if you're going to make a decision, make sure it's the right one. Make sure it's one that you can live with. Because no matter what you do, you're going to hurt someone. I just want to be sure that it's Kid or me you'll be hurting, not yourself."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," she wailed.

"Shh," I murmured, smoothing down her unruly hair. "I know you don't, baby, but it's too late now. Hey, look at me." I waited until she complied, and then I smiled at her, my famous, charming smile. "Think about it. Make the decision that will make you happiest. I'll always love you no matter what you decide to do."

Lou smiled faintly through her tears. She stroked my face. "You're lovely," she said.

I kissed her forehead. "Decide whether or not you can trust me. Decide whether or not I make you feel as good as the Kid. Decide if you love me or if I'm just a distraction. Don't build me up because I read poetry and quote Shakespeare; I'm a very mortal man who makes very bad choices."

I spoke firmly, assured of what I was saying, for I knew it to be true. "I can't make grand promises, Lou. Somewhere down the line I'll hurt you. I know I will. And I don't mean inadvertent, accidental hurts that can't be helped. Because even though I love you and even though I will do everything in my power to protect and take care of you, I'm the sort of man who will still hurt you. So think very hard before you risk your heart to a man like me."

She looked at me warily. "You're just tryin' to scare me."

"No, I'm just telling you the truth. I'm a good-for-nothing -"

"I didn't mean that!" she broke in.

"I know you didn't, but it's true. I'm a good-for-nothing, not worth the bounty on my head. I can never measure up to Kid."

"I'm not askin' you to."

But her eyes pleaded with me to take it all back. She wanted me to be the sort of man Kid was, I could see that. She wanted me to promise to do better, to try harder, to change my ways. I knew that it was possible for me to try, but not to succeed. I could never be what she deserved. I would be the best man I could be, but I would still fall miserably short. "You'll have to lower you standards to be with me, Lou," I said with a self-deprecating grin.

"I have to think about this," she whispered.

I nodded. I didn't follow her as she went back to her horse and mounted up.

We didn't say another word. She didn't look back as she rode away. Maybe she didn't know the decision she would make, but in my heart I was sure I did.