A Rancher's Touch
Chapter 11
By next week's end, George had finally made his way to Fresno, finally allowing himself to relax. He'd wanted to get a ways away from Soledad and he had. He'd made up his mind though to at least write Candy, letting him know what was going on and where he'd gone. He'd even thought of sending a letter to Chris, just to let her know that he was okay. After all, that was the least that he could do.
By mid day, he'd settled himself into a small inn above one of the bars. He was tired and wanted a safe place to stay for the night. So after paying a small fee, he was led up to a room with a bed and nightstand, no bathroom. The only bathroom was downstairs in the bar, leaving him trekking down the steps for possible use if he needed it.
"What am I goin to do?" he breathed, dropping his bindle down beside the small makeshift bed.
He then took his jacket off, tossing it onto the bed. He was met with a surprise though when he heard the faint ruffle of paper, causing him to reach over, searching his pockets. His eyes fell up a folded note within his right pocket, raising an eyebrow in question, before tentatively unfolding it.
George's jaw went slack when he saw the writing, the name scrawled down at the bottom of the page. The letter was from Chris. How he'd gotten it, he had no clue. He found himself staring speechless as he read it though, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Dear George,
I know that you're probably going to find this a bit odd, but I could think of no other way to get these thoughts out of my head. Unfortunately, I've always found it easier to get things out in writing than speaking, that way I don't have to worry about what I'm trying to say or the reaction.
George, you are a wonderful person. I just wanted to let you know that. I've seen a side of you I wasn't sure I'd find. Unlike most men…I've come to find comfort in having you near. I know it's silly, but it's true. Something about you puts me at ease, letting me know that I'm in safe hands. Like Lennie, you are a gentle man, that much is clear. Like Slim, your easy to talk to because I know that you understand. You may not say much at times, but having you around is enough to keep me sane.
Honestly, I guess the real reason I'm writing this is so that I can express my gratitude to you maybe. You've kindly tolerated me being around. I know there's a bit more to it than that though. You've been decent in your respectful nature, far more than most. You are a great man George and I'm grateful to have met you and have you as a friend. Also, since I'm being honest, it's only right that you know I heard your conversation with Candy. I'd didn't mean to listen in, but I couldn't help it as you spoke of your dream. That little ten acre place you were looking to get.
Personally, I didn't think I'd ever be able to settle down in a place like that again, but after I heard you talk about it the way that you did…it made me want to try. I think that after eight years, I might just be ready for a change, but I don't know. Just promise me though that you won't be like me, that you won't give up on your dream? It's been so long that I've forgotten mine. I'd hate to see that happen to anyone else. Also, no matter what happens, never forget the friends that you make, okay? You and Lennie have given me something special. So no matter what happens, I know I'll never forget either of you.
Love, Christine
p.s. Don't be afraid to speak up every now and then. I like you George, so I don't mind hanging around from time to time.
George felt a faint chuckle escape his lips, though it was sad. In a way, he felt as though he had taken it for granted, having someone around other than Lennie that seemed to give notice to him. Chris truly cared, that much was clear. By writing this letter, she was trying to reach out as best she could. It was something that was obviously hard for her to do, awkward even. That was why she had written the letter instead of talking to him herself. Some things were just hard to explain, even in writing like she had tried to do.
"Damn it," he breathed, running a hand through his hair.
He honestly wished that he could have stayed, especially after she had come to him and comforted him the way that she had. She had stuck her neck out for him trying to help him out. She hadn't even said much to him when they had sat there on the ground together, merely holding him against her, his head to her chest. Her arms had been comforting, something that he hadn't felt in years. It had been soothing, her hand in his hair, the touch on his cheek. She'd even wiped away his tears, her eyes seeing him no differently than before. She was so accepting, caring, loving even. Curley could have easily broken her arm for standing up for him, but she didn't back down. No, she took it like the strong spirited woman that she was. She had stood up for him and defied Curley without a second thought. Although, when she had pressed the kiss to his lips, he'd found himself stunned and shocked. He'd been unsure of what to do and now he regretted it because he'd likely never have that chance again.
T
I laid there on my bed staring up at the wooden ceiling of the bunk house. It'd been about two weeks now since George had left. Since then, I'd found myself at a loss of sorts. It bothered me that I couldn't concentrate on anything, leaving me walking around like a shell. For everyone else though, it was like nothing had ever happened really. Perhaps that's what bugged me most. Some of them acted like George and Lennie had never existed at all. I mean yes, Curley's wife was gone, but they didn't even seem to care that Lennie was gone too.
"Hey, Chris, you comin this time?" I heard Whitt ask as he finished tying his shoes.
"Come on, Chris, it'll do ya some good to get out of here," Slim said, grabbing his hat from one of the hooks.
"Fine," I sighed, getting up off my bed.
They were heading out again tonight like they normally did once a week on Saturday. Any other time I'd just stay back, but I needed something to take my mind off of everything, since nothing seemed to help me. Perhaps this time I'd do me some good though. Perhaps it would take my mind off of Lennie and George and give me some peace.
T
"Come on, let's get a drink," Whitt grinned after we walked in, grabbing me, and dragging me through the crowd of people.
I just sighed and let him drag me, all the while wishing George were here. At least then, I'd have some decent company, even if he was fairly quiet and reserved at times.
"You need to loosen up a bit," Whitt said, throwing his arm over my shoulders and pulling me close.
"Um, yeah, I'll leave that to you," I said flatly.
"Burbon and whiskey," Whitt called, placing money down on the counter. "Two of them."
A moment later, we were served our drinks, Whitt sliding mine into my hand.
"I don't wanna be here," I muttered quietly, moving over to one of the walls away from everything once he removed his arm.
Whitt didn't even realize that I'd snuck off until he turned around, looking all over the place. This made me chuckle as I watched, leaning up against the wall as I began to drain my drink, the cool liquid running down and burning the back of my throat. This is one reason why I didn't drink, then again, I had to do something before I went insane.
"Hey there handsome," I heard a woman purr after a while, her arm touching mine in a sensual fashion.
I groaned inwardly at this, grimacing. Did I really look that much like a man? I mean, come on, really?
"Sorry, but I'm interested," I breathed, watching the surprise on her face when she heard my voice.
She then walked off afterward, her face full of embarrassment at her mistake. The same thing happened about five more time before I finally decided to take off my hat, letting my dark hair lay loose about my shoulders. It would keep the girls away, but unfortunately, not the men. So, before too long, I had a couple of them trying to sweet talk me back to their homes. The whole thing made me sick, but the liquor seemed to do worse after downing my fourth round. At that point, my mind was fuzzy, my thoughts melding together.
I went back toward the front again, picking up another drink, placing it on Whitt's tab. Again, I sighed, placing the glass to my forehead. The liquor was doing it's job little by little, but not as good as I had hoped. My thoughts still floated back to Lennie and George. Back to the good times and then to the bad. The bad being the death and the feeling of abandonment. Perhaps I had abandoned myself, but I wasn't sure. At this point, I really had no clue.
"Hey there darling," came the sound of a husky voice, the man's breath tickling my ear lightly.
I shivered at the feeling, moving away and back toward the wall, but it did me little good. The man followed me around as I walked through the place, eyes taking everything in. There were dancers up on the stage dressed in feathers and plooms, just kicking their legs up, the movements making me dizzy. I could hear the small talk around me, feeling it go through one ear and out the other. I felt lost within my own mind. Then, before I knew it, the guy that was following me and pushed me up against a wall. I could feel his hands on me as he pressed me into the wall, his face coming close to mine. He had me pinned there, a hand on either side of me.
"I think you're rather pretty," he purred drunkenly, running a hand over my cheek.
My head spun as I stood there, cringing on the inside at this man's touch, wishing to be away from him. I never was good with things like this. Once again, I found myself wishing for George's company. If he were here, he'd fix this, pulling the guy away from me. Although, the problem was, he wasn't here. George was long gone.
"He's gone…" I murmured faintly. "Everyone's…gone."
"Come on, why don't we have a bit of fun," he whispered in my ear.
My head was fuzzy and buzzing, but I still heard his words, I wasn't stupid. I was still somewhat coherent for the most part, but that didn't do me much good.
"I don't think so," I said dismissively, making to move away.
He grabbed me by my arm though, pulling me flush against him, a small groan escaping my lips. I was horrified as I stood there, trying to wiggle free.
"Come now, I won't bite," he chuckled, pulling me closer as he kissed my neck.
"Get off me," I groaned, pushing against him, but he just held tighter.
The second reason why I didn't drink, it made me dizzy and weak.
"Whitt? Slim?" I groaned, my head spinning.
"It's just you and me now."
I felt faint.
"Chris?"
It was Slim and from what I could see from my now blurry vision, he didn't look happy.
"Get your hands off of her," he growled, pushing the man off of me and holding me against him.
I said a silent thank you as I stood there, wrapping my arms around Slim's waist like a small child. Realization came to mind that he was tall and thin, it was no wonder his name was Slim. That was neither here nor there though, merely a half drunken thought, but it made me giggle faintly as I stood there. It also earned me a wary look from Slim, his hand moving to the side of my head, pulling it to his chest.
"I don't see your name on her pal," the other man growled.
"You don't have to, she's mine," Slim said boldly, his arms wrapping securely around my small form in an almost intimate way as though claiming his stake on me.
As always, he made me feel safe, my head resting against his chest. I could feel his strong arms around me, his warmth soaking into me, and his heart beating against my ear. The whole thing was like a lullaby as my mind became groggy, my legs going weak.
"Slim?" I whispered.
Before I knew it, I was slumped against him, his arms catching hold of me and pulling me closer. My mind went foggy and I finally slipped into darkness.
Okay, that was chapter 11. I hope that everyone liked it. :) Not to mention, you got to see what the note said. I guess George realized to too late. Anyway, don't worry they'll be together again. Please, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I LOVE hearing FEEDBACK on my stories, so please give me some. Ideas are ALWAYS welcomed. Thanks everyone.
