*I thought I might recap the story just in case. Okay so Teresa took a trip back home to visit her sick aunt only to find she had passed. But that didn't stop her from telling the aunt what's for! So Teresa tries to come home early on the train and meets Randall "The Bullet" McCoy. (My guest-star Steve McQueen). So they're getting along when the train is majorly delayed for debris on the tracks. Randall has his horse taken out of the stock carriage and decides to get Teresa (now his friend) the rest of the way to the Santa Fe station to catch a night train to Colorado Springs! (And a choir of angels sing) Meanwhile Loren hired a new seamstress (he didn't check her references tsk tsk) and she's taken a liken to Jake. (Baffled my mind too) J/K! She snaked her way into Jake's graces by making it appear that Izzy liked her. But Hank who's been suspicious of her all along confronts her. He messes with her pretty bad (she totally deserved it!) and she retaliates by trying to make Jake believe Hank beat her over a bad dress job. Jake discovers how Celina (sorry that's the home wreckers name) tricked Izzy into liking her and is now super paranoid about the whole deal. Also he's not been fairing to well without his wife. The wee lamb's been sleeping in chairs instead of his bed. So that brings us to the last chapter where Randall (Teresa is sitting in front of him on the horse) is bringing Teresa to the station by horse. She falls asleep remembering a past memory of her and Jake. (Which indecently is the conception of Lucy 'wink') And when she awakes they are at the station. Jake on the other hand has just woken from a nightmare which he is not certain if it was a dream or someone was actually there. (Catching my breath) Okay, I hope this helped if you got lost or detoured. Leave no man behind, I say. Well onward and upward. Or as Jake would say. "Huh?"*
Resplendent the golden sheath of light illuminated the bedroom, casting her surroundings in brilliantly pale hues. She remained still in her bed watching the open doorway with a puzzled trepidation. Sniffing the air for the familiar aroma of steaming hot coffee brewed so strong she could practically taste the bitter grounds, mingled with the sweet syrupy rich hot chocolate, frothing thickly as it blended into it's thick sugary crème, she pursed her lips. Lucy furrowed her brow with disappointment while she strained her ears. Neither the crackling sizzle of fried eggs nor the crisp pops and bubbling of bacon could be heard. Very slowly, Lucy pushed herself up on her elbows, listening and waiting for the muffled humming of her father making breakfast in the kitchen below. Still not a sound, not a scent. Once again, she eyed the vacant doorway waiting for him to saunter in and perch himself against the frame with a smile. Nothing.
Without a preamble of thought, her feet swung out onto the floor and she shuffled across the glimmering room. There was a chill to the morning air which sent her small frame into an involuntary tremor as she reached the hallway. Lucy tilted her head to one side, deeply puzzled at the scene before her. Just a few steps from her door her father slept awkwardly sprawled out in her mother's rocking chair. The weight of his long legs, which stretch out smacking into the walls on either side, had brought the curled slide of the rocker up into the air. His arms had fallen to the wayside of the downward curved armrests, and the very tips of his fingers lightly grazed the maroon carpeted floor.
As she crept closer to him, she observed the fact that he had fallen asleep fully clothed. And yet his azure vest was flanked to either side and the askew top half of his dress shirt was open, revealing the apex of his chest. Lucy cocked an eyebrow as she narrowed in on an odd round blemish at the very base of his neck. She gently swiped at the soft pink hue wiping some away with her finger. Jake stirred with the sudden action, forcing his heavy lids to open.
Lucy's confused expression came into view as he watched her starring determinately at some substance on her fingers. Sorely, Jake stretched righting himself in the chair. He felt the bones in his neck grind and pop against each other as he rolled his head along his shoulders. Absently, he rubbed the sleep out from the inner corner of his eye as he nudged Lucy's little body up onto his lap. Yawning he took her smudged fingers in his hand and attempted to focus his yet waking sight on the blush colored pigment.
"What'da yah got on your hands?" he yawned once again before planting a kiss on her temple.
She wiped at his chest again and showed him her hand, "From you Papa."
It didn't take long for the faint scent of roses to rise up into his nose, bringing the memory of his startling dream, up to float onto the surface of his mind. Frantically, Jake took her rouged fingers between his hands and rubbed the offensive cosmetic from her skin. He felt a boiling fire of anger welling deep within his stomach, stoking his fowl temper from its long hibernation. It licked like the tendrils of flames demanding an outlet for the trespassing that was done to him…to his family. Then he felt Lucy's small body shifting into a comfortable position on his lap. She pressed against his tense muscles, leaning her head onto his shoulder with a sigh. Slowly, he softened himself leaning them both back into the rocker. As Jake rocked them back and forth, the roaring blaze within him ebbed, settling back down into the confines of his body. He pressed his lips to her head feeling the silky ribbons of curls on his lips.
"Papa?"
"Hmmm?" he was struggling hard to rest his racing thoughts, to regain the moment of just holding his daughter in his arms.
"Can we stay home today?" her finger absently traced the lines of his open palm.
Jake remained quiet a moment organizing his thoughts. He supposed Mr. Dickenson could wait and get his scheduled shave tomorrow afternoon. Besides, after this morning's discovery, he didn't think he could stomach the sight of Ms. Marrow. What could he say in defense of himself? He had no proof that she had been in his home. The entire situation was absurdly surreal, even to his own understanding. "Sure, why not."
They lingered for the moment knowing comfort in one another's company, both longing for the maternal presence which was eluding them thus far. It wasn't until the sleepy fussing of Izzy's voice, perked up Jake's ears, and set him to stirring. With another gentle kiss to the temple Jake set Lucy on her feet and ushered her to her bedroom to dress. Lightly, he entered Izzy's yet shaded nursery, peeping passed the gossamer vale that encircled the crib. She had turned her head murmuring in her sleep until her thumb found its way to her bowed lips. Finding that she continued to slumber deeply, Jake returned the rocker to its position by the nursery's window.
Tiptoeing, from the room Jake hurried down the stairs feeling slightly lighter, knowing he wouldn't have to deal with the lunacy of that woman for this day at least. Teresa would be home by tomorrow afternoon, and he was resolved to close the shop up for that day as well. As he neared the first landing, Jake set his mind at ease humming softly to the sea sawing violin which vibrated forth from his memory of the Sweethearts dance. Thoughts racing with other things, sweeter things, Jake ran the back of his fingers along the growing scruff on his chin. He knew he needed a shave badly, but he'd put it off until he'd gotten breakfast for Lucy and Izzy. Then as the heels of his boots reached the floor of the front parlor, Jake froze. His eyes scanned the parlor feeling a fowl sensation as they rested on the front door.
If not for the brightly lit morning, Jake might not have noticed it for hours, until they had ventured out. The foyer was shrouded under the shade of the drawn, silvery blue brocade curtains. A gold silver of morning light outlined the ajar door, casting a line of golden light across the dark entrance hall. Jake exhaled tensing his shoulders as he approached the compromised door. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that she had been in the house last night. His stomach curdled as his temper wrestled with his fear. That woman had to go and if Loren didn't fire her, he'd run her out on the next train himself.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hank stared fixedly at the round white face of the banks clock. A quarter passed noon and still no sight nor sound of Jake and his brood. One disappointed customer after another stamped up the wooden steps only to find the thick Closed slab swung out. It wasn't until Jake's huffy regular Mr. Dickenson rattled the locked doors impatiently, that Hank began to worry. Determined, he tucked a wavy strand of his lion's mane behind his ear, before he ventured down the street to the mercantile.
The store was bustling with ladies picking out bolts of fabric from the wide bin behind Celina's sewing table. Her back was to him as he entered, never taking his eyes off her slender form. Celina's crimson hair was braided up around her head like a crown as thin wisps fell loose about her pale face. She wiped impatiently at these fleeing tendrils while she took the measurements of her latest customer. Hank frowned at the demand she appeared to be in. Loren wouldn't give her up easily now that she was turning him a profit, and Hank didn't relish informing on her without Jake by his side.
"Loren! Don't you dare order that silk!" Dorothy's voice shattered Hank's thoughts. "Why no one around here's gonna be able to afford even a yard of it!"
Hank swiveled his head in their direction slightly amused at the alarmed look on Dorothy's face. Yet, Loren waved her off continuing to scribble down his order number. His eyes gleamed with the prospect of doubling his clientele. Dreamily Loren's eyes mooned in the direction of his seamstress, who was seemingly spinning him hay into gold. Or fabric for that matter.
"Loren Bray! You're makin a huge mistake!" she railed into him once more. "Not even Michaela would buy anything so extravagant!"
"Ahhh Dorothy! Look at them swarmin around her. They'll buy anything just tah out do each other," he rubbed his hands together. "Sides…Teresa will be coming back and Jake'll be in here happy as a clam wantin tah buy up the finest thing he can afford for her."
"What is Teresa going to do with sapphire silk?" Dorothy looked to Cloud Dancing for support. His eyes nearly bugged, before he opted to gracefully back away from the explosive argument, which undoubtedly was coming around the bin.
"Why that's what Celina's here for!" he gestured at the girl as she busily moved on to the next smiling customer. "I'll even take a percentage off of a fittin on account of…well…her loosing her aunt and all."
"Ha!" Hank guffawed unable to sustain his disbelief. "I'd sell tickets tah see that exchange take place."
Dorothy lowered her gaze uncomfortably, knowing exactly what Hank's despicable line of thought was. She had been standing across the street with Grace at the livery, when Hank had tossed Celina out on the walk of the barbershop. The brazen woman had come directly to Robert E requesting a horse. Together they had watched awestruck as she had ridden out in the direction of Jake's home. Grace had admonished angrily with a wave of her hand, "I'll be the first one behind Ms. Teresa tah cut a switch fah that wicked woman!"
"Hank," Dorothy's voice stretched calmly with warning.
But Hank pressed on leaning over the glass counter to whisper close to Loren's side. "Yah know Loren, you could stand to Lose business, if say…your golden goose was messin with another hen's rooster."
The trio stood silent each sorting through Hank's jumbled metaphor, until Loren's expression erupted with his usual overreaction. "What're you sayin?"
"I'm sayin," Hank levered his hand in front of Loren's face, motioning for him to keep it down. "When that train pulls in someone had better be pullin out." He struck his thumb in Celina's direction.
Loren's face doubled in shock as he stared with disgust at the other side of the store. He was visibly torn while he decoded the little oddities which had been occurring. The first of which being Celina's inquiries as to the beauty products Mrs. Slicker favored. That coupled with her sudden desire for the rose oil, he kept in stock just for Teresa. Hank, Loren and Dorothy quickly formed a knit circle, whispering confidentially to one another. They were so engrossed that neither noticed when Cloud Dancing, silently side stepped them all and began the long walk down to Jake's home. As he went along Cloud Dancing shook his head with worry. 'The man is now in danger of losing everything. He may soon find himself alone.'
