Chapter 49 – We Can Be Different
There was a dark movement and a sound like cloth fluttering in the wind right before one vampire screamed and then exploded. Now that the odds were improved, Doc took the opportunity and turned to slash out with his knife at the other vampire. It only took two thrusts of the sharp blade before he also screamed and fell into eternity. Doc's heart was still hovering around in his throat, but he managed a small smile as he turned to face his savior.
"Honestly darlin, I must commend you on your ti…ming."
His words dried up. The tall black being standing in front of him was not Alex. He was clothed like Alex, in head to toe black with his face completely concealed by the cowl attached to the long cloak he wore. In each gloved hand he held a long three-tapered sword that gleamed like silver death in the moonlight.
In a flash, the being twirled the silver swords around in his hands several times ending in a crossed arch over his head before he spun them once more, and in a sudden motion tucked them away under his cloak. He bowed slightly to Doc and began to back away, but abruptly stopped to look just beyond Doc's shoulder. When Doc turned he saw another dark figure only this one was smaller and not as robust in build. The smaller figure nodded its head to the larger one and when Doc turned back around the larger being had vanished.
Alex walked toward him to stand by his side he and he looked down into her bright green eyes with relief. "They're here." She said simply.
Once back at the hotel Doc immediately poured a large drink. Alex had begun to rant and rage at him as soon as they got into the room, but he ignored her until he had swallowed every drop of the bourbon he had poured. Then he refilled his glass and turned to address the woman standing before him.
"What a God damn idiot you are sometimes." She continued as she paced back and forth across the room. She had yet to take her cloak off and the black wool material flowed gracefully around her with each angry step. Doc had his first opportunity to observe Alex up close while dressed in her full patrolling gear. The black leather jacket and pants combined with the cloak and firm steps she took with her black boots gave her a dark foreboding appearance. One he never would have associated with the polite, well mannered cook that had somehow stolen his heart. It was almost if he had fallen in love with two women – one presented the perfect front of normal respectability and the other more dark, mysterious and dangerously skilled then he cared to know. He couldn't help but wonder which woman was the real Alex.
"I quite agree." He mumbled as he sat on the bed to remove his boots.
"Fucking stubborn Irishmen. No wonder you got in so much trouble when you came west. You court it. You beg for it. And, damn it John, you almost bought it tonight. Do you have any idea…"
He stood and held his hand over her mouth to shut her up. "Alex, please, I'm not arguing with you. You are quite right. I'm a complete idiot." She continued to flash angry eyes at him but her lecture had finally ended.
He sighed loudly and walked barefoot to the window and took another deep drink from his glass as he looked out on the still streets below. Not one soul graced the usually busy streets tonight. It was down right spooky. From behind him Alex issued a weary groan as she flopped down into the nearest cushioned chair.
"This is my fault. I take full responsibility."
Her voice had a sober tone that immediately caught his attention. He closed the curtain over the window before he turned to look at her. Her posture displayed her exhaustion. She leaned heavily on the arm of the chair, her eyes were closed and her face rested in the palm of her hand. A wave of guilt hit him hard. Instead of causing her more grief by storming out of the cottage, he should have insisted she return to the hotel to rest. Well, now that they were here and safe from harm he would abstain from any more discussion tonight and tuck her into his bed.
"Don't be ridiculous. The fault was mine. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions regarding your reasons for coming to my room that day. It's just that… well, my pride was hurt.
When she raised her eyes to look at him he knew immediately something was very wrong. Instead of the usual warmth he always saw reflecting back at him, he saw nothing but a cold business like bleakness. "That's not what I meant."
"Alex, you're tired and I'm tired. Neither one of us is making a hell of a lot of sense right now." He sat down opposite of her and tried to calm the fluttering of alarm in his stomach.
Alex made an effort to keep her posture stiff and formal. A numbing sensation came over her that allowed her to hold off her pain until she could finish what she had decided to do. "Actually, my perspective is suddenly very clear, probably for the first time since my arrival." She said in a very calm even tone as she leaned slightly forward and looked him straight in the eyes. "John, I need you to listen to what I have to say."
He interrupted her, hoping to ward off disaster. "Clarity of one's perspective is hardly something to expect at two o'clock in the morning, Alex. We should get some sleep." He quickly finished his drink and prayed for the chemically induced sensation of calm to over take him.
Slowly, she shook her head. As softly and as gently as she could she announced, "I'm ending this right now, John. We cannot continue."
His breath stuck in his throat and the first sharp arrow of pain shot through is chest. "Why?" He pleaded. "For the first time since we've met we are finally on equal footing." He reached for her, wanting desperately to caress away the coldness he saw displayed on her face, but before he could make contact with her cheek she lean back against the chair to avoid his touch.
"This is wrong, you know it and so do I. I've done nothing but put you in danger. Not only you but the Earps as well." She shook her head with more conviction this time. "No. This ends tonight. I can't see you anymore, not romantically anyway." She stood up to take her leave. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention."
He quickly followed and grabbed her by the arm. "Alex, don't do this, please. When you're rested we'll talk some more." Even though he held her not one foot from his body, she remained aloof, her posture cold and stiff. In short, he could tell she was mentally and physically backing away from him. The painful agony in his chest bloomed anew, but he knew no amount of whiskey or laudanum would ever quench the ache.
Alex took a deep breath and proceeded on her current path of destruction. "I wanted our relationship to end on good terms. That has always been my intention. It was never an option for me to stay in this time period, nor was it possible to bring you back with me."
"What are you saying?" Unconsciously his voice rose in timber and he swallowed hard in an effort to hold his feelings in check.
"You know what I'm saying. All you need do now is face it, get over it, and move on. Please promise me you'll go home to Georgia, at least for a little while."
"God damn you, Alex." He snapped at her while tightening the grip on her arm. "You're not going to walk out on me. Not now."
"Then when?!" She retorted. "If not now, when? You know it has to be this way. Why wait and make it hurt more?" She violently jerked her arm free from his grasp, managed to take two steps toward the door when he stopped her again.
"Damn it, why must it hurt at all?"
Whatever composure she tried to maintain came crashing down and her face betrayed the pain she tried to hide. "Do you have another solution?" She cried as tears filled her eyes. "Because I don't." He tried to take her in his arms to comfort her, but she refused to yield. "There is no solution. There never is. My whole life has been one obstacle after another, and not one… not one had a solution to my liking. I always had to swallow my pain and push on. There was no solution after my parents were murdered. There wasn't a solution after I was quickly and conveniently packed away to a boarding school with all hope for a family distinguished. And there wasn't a solution after I found I had married a man who had no intention of giving me a normal life. This situation is no different."
The degree of her sorrow made him long to help ease her pain. "We can be different." He promised. "You've made so very happy Alex."
She issued a short dry laugh and pushed him away. "I've almost got you killed," she held up her hand and displayed three fingers, "three times, John. "What I'm trying to do is so very dangerous. More dangerous than anything you have ever mixed up in before. I don't have a choice, but you do. I have to fulfill my husband's wishes. I made him a promise right after we were engaged that I would never turn my back on him if he should ever be turned and he made the same vow to me. I intend to honor that pledge or die trying. I can't do that if you get hurt or killed because I was selfish and needy. Please, I'm begging you, stay out of this. Take those stage tickets and get as far away from here as you can."
"I will do no such thing!" He growled.
But Alex wasn't listening. She ignored him as she continued. "Don't you understand? If we continue our affair then I'm going to end up getting us both killed. We have to end this, now. I'm sorry."
Walking away from him and closing the door behind her was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. As she started down the hallway that led back to Angel's room her head began to feel fuzzy like it was full of cotton. The sensation was compounded by a tremor that was running through her arms and legs making it hard to keep her balance. Her stomach joined in by flipping and tumbling. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, slowly at first and then she began to pick up speed until she was running. Only once did she stumble and after that she kept one hand trailing along the wall to keep her balance.
Once she got to the hotel room door she struggled to unlock it before finally flinging it open and running directly into the bath. She vomited for a full five minutes, resting on the cold ceramic floor in between intervals. When her stomach was finally empty and felt much calmer, she burst into tears. It was times like this when she wished she could take a Valium or a good dose of laudanum to numb the pain.
Stupid, you knew this would happen. Yes, she knew it would come to this, her heart broken and John in a full rage and unable, or unwilling, to understand why they couldn't be together. She hoped his grief would be brief and that he would eventually see reason and return home to Georgia. That had always been her hope. Since he wasn't in love with her there was no reason for him to linger over their affair.
Her pain, in comparison, would last much longer, perhaps forever. If she managed to survive her mission and return to her time she would have to face reality, John would be long dead and buried. Just the thought alone brought a sharp ache to her chest. He would have years to forget about her, letting time heal his wounds, but for her fate wouldn't be so kind. Time traveling only took seconds to accomplish. She would leave behind a living breathing man and have to face reality just moments later that he was dead. How then, would she find the strength to live out the rest of her days? As she rose from the cold bathroom floor she had only one hope left and that lay in the sharpness of Malachi's sword. If she were very lucky, her death would be quick.
She shrugged out of her patrolling clothes and put on a long chemise. It would be day soon and still Angel and Spike hadn't returned from the Clanton ranch. She couldn't think what to do if something should happen to them. Actually, she couldn't think period. She was just too tired to function anymore tonight. When she finally climbed into bed the sheets were cool and inviting but she found no solace in them for she was acutely aware of the absent warm body that was usually wrapped around hers. Her tears threatened to over take her again but she swallowed hard and pushed them away. Curling up on her right side she wrapped her left arm around a pillow in an effort to sooth the ache in her chest. In her right hand she held his handkerchief against her cheek as the scent of the previous owner helped her drift into an uneasy sleep.
She had said she was sorry, but somehow he doubted that. The method of her cool departure spoke volumes louder than her meager words. He had been dismissed as easily as a servant and he had stood in shock as she breezed through the door and out of his life.
Now what was he to do?
Doc had very little experience when it came to chasing women. How does one convince an intolerant female to consider a change of heart? He hadn't clue. Whenever his disagreements with Kate had escaladed to the point when either she or he would storm out the door he had always experienced a sense of profound relief. For a while afterward, he would be free to do and act as he pleased. Usually his time would be spent drinking and gambling for hours that led into days. Inevitably his behavior always ended with him taking sick and Kate coming back to nurse him and sooth his foul mood with sex. After his recovery, he had always been thankful for her care and his sense of obligation would warrant a reconciliation and their relationship would continue as it had before.
His love affair with his cousin Mattie had not proceeded after she rejected his marriage proposal even though he had stayed in town to pressure her for several months. Finally, heartbroken and humiliated by her continuous rejection he left and never returned.
Within weeks of his departure he received her first letter. He remembered clearly how excited he had been when he saw her return address on the envelope. Hope began to bloom in his heart as he eagerly torn open the seal. It was obvious to him that Mattie had a change of mind and was writing him to request that he return home, but as he read her letter he realized that was not the case. She had only apologized again, and wished him well with his new dental practice and business partner, and then she proceeded to bore him to death with mundane news of the town and his various relatives. In a fit of anger he burned the offensive letter and spent three days in the raunchiest section of town drinking and gambling.
That had been the beginning of his fall from grace and the end of John H. Holliday, D.D.S.
Mattie continued to write with regularity that spoke of her cousinly devotion but he no longer expected her to change her mind. She did not love him and there was very little he could do or say to alter that reality. How then, was he to work on Alex? What could he say or do to change her mind that he hadn't done already? After having spent many years apart from Mattie his heartache had faded. But he strongly doubted he would get over what he felt for his little blonde cook. Years spent living without her seemed very bleak indeed, and for the first time since his remarkable cure of consumption he wished for death. Living without her was not something he wanted to do.
He settled on the sofa with a full bottle of bourbon with the intention of drowning his sorrow until he passed out, but even that plan failed him. Until this moment he never realized how hard it was to drink and cry at the same time.
