A/N: Friendly reminder that some of the timelines of the show have to be adjusted to make sense for Marley's story. I am not re-ordering events, but merely stretching out the length of time between happenings. Enjoy!
Chapter 9: The Long Black Train pt. 1
For the next few days, I barely saw a soul apart from Gator, who brought me grilled cheese and the occasional glass of Coke with lemon. With each new day, I moped around the cabin, sheltered under blankets, or wallowed in a swamp of self-pity in the bathtub.
Not even Daddy, nor Jamie for that matter, came to check on me.
Figures, I grumbled and sipped my Coke that was leftover from lunch. You truly are just the family pet around here, I reminded myself.
Why hadn't I left by now? As much as I loathed Beth, she had a point that wouldn't stop nagging in the back of my pounding head. If I wasn't responsible for anything on the ranch—I wasn't a wrangler, could barely even call myself part of the family business—why did I stay? But I supposed that every lost puppy would stay put when it found food or shelter, regardless if it felt a sense of purpose.
Everyone in our family had a purpose, even Mom. She was the brick and mortar to Daddy's foundation. Lee was the leader, Jamie was the defender, Kayce was the prodigy, and Beth was the mastermind. And then there was me; no skills or talents to speak of, hardly able to call herself a Dutton without people smirking with skepticism.
I picked at the stitches that hadn't fully dissolved from my fist as I mulled it over. The only damn thing I was good at was being in a room full of people trying to get my father's attention and not being seen. I flicked some of the black thread onto the floor. I suppose I was also phenomenal at oral—so talented that I hadn't gagged since I was fifteen. I'm sure that would be an eye-catcher on a resume.
Then there was always my skill of winding up in situations where I didn't belong, such as running into Rip after he fucked my sister, or getting fucked by a bastard like Fred. And while I was positive that those were impressive enough, they hardly compared to how my abilities soared when feebly fanning the embers of my relationship with Toby.
The skin on the back of my hand was pink and patchy where the glass shards had dug in, but it hardly hurt anymore. It took a lot more than glass grinding against bone and nerves to hurt me nowadays. Whenever I could coax myself to sleep, I was tormented with fragments of dark and twisted memories that usually resulted in my body jolting off the pillows as I gasped awake. Sometimes, Lee would die in front of me, unable to help him. Other times it was Mom. Once in a while, I could hear Fred's grunts over my shoulder or feel Caleb's hands on my hips. Other times I would be tortured by Toby's eyes piercing my soul, or with Rip's condescending words that cut me like a knife.
My inner crisis reached a point that I couldn't sleep in past dawn, no matter how hard I tried or how many pills I took. My eyes would flutter awake on cue with the pink light that decorated the mountains in the distance. The first few times it happened, I would lay there in Lee's bed, watching the ceiling as the light turned from pink to golden and made its way down the wall. Though I knew I needed to get up, it was like the weight of all the things I was thinking held me down. As if bags of sand were draped across my chest, making it hard to breathe or even think without feeling pain.
One evening I sat in the bathtub quietly with my thoughts, just as I had every moment since I became secluded. My arms wrapped around my legs as the lukewarm water pruned my fingers and toes. As I stared at the beige tile along the wall, I thought about something I hadn't allowed myself to think before: what would Lee say to you right now?
What are you doing here? his voice asked, clear as day inside my mind.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I snapped back at him, my jaw tightening.
No, dummy, he chuckled. I meant what are you doing in here, doing this to yourself?
"Don't," I grumbled and shook my head before propping my forehead against my forearms. "I can't think anymore."
Then don't.
"That's the stupidest advice you've ever given me," I groaned.
Look, no one's doing this to you, you're doing it to yourself. You are a lot of things, Mare, but useless sure ain't one of 'em.
"I just want to survive," I mumbled, my eyes shut tight. "Just get by so that I don't have to deal with this shit anymore."
Life's not about just surviving, Mare. It's about living.
"Should have saved that one for yourself," I snapped bitterly and lifted my head. I don't know what I expected to see, but I was nonetheless disappointed to realize I was still alone.
My dream or hallucination or whatever the fuck it was rocked me to my core. While I toweled off I replayed his words over and over again in my head.
No one's doing this to you, you're doing it to yourself.
The more I said it, the more the bits began to click in my head, like tiny puzzle pieces falling into place. I suddenly found myself, still naked and damp from the bath, wrapped in a cocoon made of blankets on the couch as I began to make the connection in my mind.
No one's doing this to you, you're doing it to yourself.
Lee died, but he didn't do it to spite me. Rip doesn't love me, but not because of anything I ever did. Frank raped me, but it wasn't my fault. Beth hates me, but she hates everyone. My father can't show an ounce of love for me, but I remember what grandpa was like: never known to give a hug or hardly even a smile to anyone.
Gravity had shifted at the revelations that swirled in my head. Perhaps I had fantasized Lee into being due to lack of nutrients or from purely becoming insane. Regardless, I suppose you have to walk through the hellfire to get to the other side. I was grateful, even if they were my own thoughts disguised as Lee's voice, that things slowly were beginning to make sense again.
That night I didn't need any pills or sleep aids to prompt my tiredness. I was used to laying in bed and staring at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated, begging for sleep to take me so that I could end my consciousness. This time, my eyes promptly began to close while my body became limp under the covers, my brother's advice still echoing in my ears as it lulled me to sleep.
Life's not about just surviving, Mare. It's about living.
When I woke the next morning there was a distinct lack of suffocating weight holding me down. No dread or loathing or toxicity to fill my veins with black tar. It was as if everything I had done, everything I had suffered for the past few days had subdued, allowing myself to feel somewhat normal again, for however long I could muster. Something deep inside of me stirred, like an animal waking from its hibernation, and ached to leave the confines of my self-declared prison. I knew he didn't really have anything to do with it, but I thanked Lee anyway.
I had almost forgotten what crisp, morning air felt like against my cheek. What my boots sounded like against the wood boards underneath me. How peaceful the world was when no one was awake to ruin it. I wrapped my arms around my torso as I walked across the driveway, gazing across my father's kingdom, busy before even the earliest birds.
I suddenly felt like a stranger, watching on from afar as they tended to their chores. Gator worked to serve the men their breakfast with coffee over a warm fire while I watched Jimmy bring out one saddled horse at a time for each of the wranglers who promptly mounted to warm up for the day's work.
It was like watching a National Geographic special on groups of humans that don't exist anymore. They were so stuck in their ways because that was what they always did, how it was always done, why it was always done. But it was beautiful all the same.
Keeping my distance, I leaned against one of the fences and watched Colby trot around the corral, round and round as his gelding knickered, longing for his warm stall.
"Since when are you allowed down here?" Jimmy teased as he sauntered up beside me.
"Since when did you get brave enough to ask me questions?" I smirked back at him. It felt good to talk to someone other than my dead brother.
I saw a hint of a blush rise in his cheeks as he watched the cowboys. "Nah, I don't think I'm brave," he muttered.
"You have to be to do this shit," I countered and rose my eyebrows as Colby rode by. I smirked, hearing a bit of myself in his voice. Funny the things you notice in people once you make it to the other side of crazy.
"That's probably why I'm so bad at it," Jimmy confessed, lowering his eyes.
I peered over at him, feeling a sense of protectiveness come over me. "Says who?"
"Damn near everyone," he grumbled.
I rolled my eyes, "Oh please, don't let those fuckers bully you." Nodding my chin, I motioned to Colby. "First time I saw him in this same corral, he couldn't keep his feet in the stirrups and that horse ran him all over the damn place," I smirked. "And I can't tell you how many times I've seen Ryan fall off from not having his cinch tight enough, and—"
My words caught in my throat as Fred mounted across the way, fortunately turning the other direction so that I was able to avert my eyes undetected. No matter how much mental growth I had from the past few days, some wounds still stung. Unfortunately, Jimmy still noticed, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer.
"What about you?"
Bless that boy. "What about me?" I asked, pretending to be interested in the dirt beneath my toe.
"Have you ever fallen off one of 'em?" He sounded like Tate, filled to the brim with questions about every damn little thing.
"No," I shook my head.
"Are you just that good?" he scoffed.
"You can't fall off if you've never been on one."
"How are you a Dutton and never ridden a horse?" he questioned, almost sounding astonished. I wouldn't have let it slide so easily if it weren't for his unsolicited kindness.
"Dad never let me be around them growing up," I shrugged simply. "Said I wasn't allowed to."
I was surprised when he didn't continue to press the matter. And I suppose that's why I liked him so much. He knew when to shut up.
"Look, Jimmy, you rode that stallion for six hours straight and made it out alive. Don't let these pussies tell you you can't do shit," I concluded.
Jimmy shook his head, wanting to believe me, but just as I wouldn't look at Fred again, he just couldn't.
"He gonna be mad that you're down here?" he motioned to Rip, who watched over the men like a looming warden. I quietly observed, feeling suddenly tense as Daddy joined him, sipping his coffee.
"He'll be fine," I casually brushed off his concern. "You didn't tell him anything, did you?"
He hesitated for a second before shaking his head.
"Good," I thanked him as best as I could manage. "You better go get ready or he'll have your hide," I warned.
Jimmy smiled slightly before heading for the barn. As I watched him go I thought about how quickly I had opened up to him, which was normally out of character for me. But perhaps it was because he was so easy to talk to, like a younger brother I never had, or someone who had it just as bad as I did and understood what it felt like to be on everyone's shit list.
"Jimmy, get your shit together," Rip hollered at him as they started the day.
I sighed heavily, feeling pity for him. What I wouldn't give for Rip to say my name nearly half the amount of times that he called after Jimmy, but I also wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his nagging all the time.
Daddy stayed behind for a moment while Rip gathered up the crew. To this day I don't know what drove me to impulsively make my way along the railing until I was a few feet from him. Hell, I don't even remember my feet taking a step. It was probably more of Lee's damn advice that had spiked my heart with some kind of fake courage.
"What are you doing down here so early?" he grumbled without turning to look at me.
"What are you guys doing today?" I asked in return, feeling so out of place.
To this, he raised an eyebrow as he gave me a sideways glance. "Emmett and Mickey are bringing some trailers over later."
"Can I help?" I heard my voice say before I could retract it.
What are you doing!? I screamed at myself. What could you possibly do that would be at all helpful to him!?
He paused, somewhat dumbfounded himself. "I appreciate the sentiment, but don't you have other things to be doing 'round here?" He lowered his eyes to his coffee again.
"Not really," I replied, biting the inside of my lower lip.
He sighed heavily, thinking it over for a moment. "Maybe next time, sweetheart."
Maybe next time, sweetheart, I mocked in my head as I stormed into the cabin, slamming the door behind me. I was sick of feeling useless, tired of not having something that I could put towards the family.
Just like a pet, I recalled. Just like a tumor.
The way Jimmy looked at me as if I was lying ingrained in my mind, how he stared as if he couldn't comprehend the idea that the rancher's daughter didn't know how to ride a horse.
I did what I could to remind myself of what Lee had said in my ear: you're a lot of things, Mare, but useless ain't one of them. Even with his fantasized compliment, it was hard to kill the old habits on the spot. I found myself staring at one of Lee's buckles that was propped up on a bookshelf. The more I stared at the makeshift museum of Lee's artifacts, the more I found myself lost in memories that caused this mess.
I thought about the first time I was scolded for being down near the stables. I was maybe five or so, just about a year or two after Mom died. Even though she was supposed to be watching me, Beth was always sneaking off into the barns so I had decided to follow her.
My little feet barely made a tapping noise against the cobblestone floor as I peeked inside, the smell of hay and manure slamming into my face. I didn't hear anyone inside, so thinking that Beth was playing hide-and-seek, I continued down the row of stalls looking for my sister. My eyes were glued above me as I passed each stall, empty and waiting for the horses to return. I didn't stop until I reached one near the end where a large, brown face lowered from behind the wood door.
I giggled and reached my hand out to feel its mouth as it searched for a treat, his lips flapping open and closed against my hand. I laughed at this and pulled my hand back as he lifted his head, trying to make sense of the tiny human before him. For whatever reason, I got it in my head that I wanted to play with him, and began to reach for the lock on the door.
Standing on my tip-toes, I grasped the cool iron between my tiny fingers and tugged at it until it slid open. The large, wooden door opened with a creak as I awaited my new friend. But just as the stall door had given me room to squeeze through, I was swept off my feet.
"Marley! No!" Daddy had picked me up around the waist and shut the stall closed with his foot. Tears stung my eyes as my face turned bright red. "You are not allowed down here— they are dangerous, understand?"
I never forgot the way his eyes darkened with seriousness as he scolded me. For the longest time, I couldn't understand why that nice horse was in time-out. A few years later I had gone in search of Rip in the barn when I heard a thumping sound. As I neared the tack room, the thudding sound got stronger, and so did the moans that echoed off the walls around me. I couldn't force myself to look; no matter how hard I tried to convince myself it wasn't them, I knew exactly who it was.
I turned tail and ran out of the stables, tears streaming down my face as I stumbled into Daddy who grabbed me by the shoulders.
"Hey," he snapped as I wiped my eyes. "What are you doing down here? What have I said about being in there?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy," I whimpered, sniveling.
"Listen to me," he put his hands on his hips, the classic lecture stance. "I'm going to say this for the last time and I don't want to have to repeat myself any more than I already have. You will not go near those horses again, do you hear me?"
I nodded, unable to get Rip's groans out of my ears.
As if my day couldn't get any weirder, my brother had to show up. And it wasn't the dead one.
Kayce parked his truck in the gravel lot and hopped out of the cab just as I wandered onto the porch to figure out what he was doing here in the first place. I hadn't even seen him at the funeral; the last time I laid my eyes on my brother was when he was soaked in Lee's blood.
My stomach swirled with feelings that I thought were long gone as he sauntered around the tailgate. He was the last one to see Lee alive. He was also the first one of us to high tail it far away from here as soon as he could. As far as I was concerned, he didn't want anything to do with us or the ranch. So why did he bother to pay us a visit?
"Marley!"
Tate's excited voice broke me from my brooding as he high-tailed it past his papa across the gravel in my direction. I smiled and lept down the stairs. "Well if it isn't the little troublemaker," I teased and wrapped him in a hug. "Where the hell have you been, little man?"
Tate beamed, "Marley, you wouldn't believe it! I killed a rattlesnake!"
I raised my eyebrows in pure shock. "Did you now?"
"Uh-huh! I killed it before it could kill me!" He proudly boasted, as if he was unaware of the severity that came along with it.
When he was younger, on the few occasions Kayce would visit, I was typically in charge of watching over the little man. We would play on the tire swing or hide and seek in the house or pretend to be cowboys, all the things little boys loved and that I didn't get to do when I was growing up. But as Tate got older, I noticed that Kayce and Monica began to bring him over less and less, especially as he started showing more interest in being Daddy's shadow.
"Tate," Kayce called. "Why don't you head down and see what your grandpa's up to?"
Without any hesitation or further encouragement, Tate took off toward the mess of horses and cattle down by the barns. We, on the other hand, remained completely still as we stared at each other across the driveway. It was as if, at the same moment, we both relived the last time we saw each other; him, covered in Lee's blood while I, a sobbing, wailing mess, cried after him: what did you do!?
Kayce looked just as he had for the past ten years: shaggy and dirty, his signature black hat propped on his head, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. "It's been a while," he finally mumbled.
"Yep," I agreed, unsure of what to say or what would even come out of my mouth if I tried.
There were so many feelings running through my mind, so many things I wanted to say. What happened to Lee? Why didn't you save him? Did you get to say goodbye? But no matter how the questions pressed on the inside of my mouth, I couldn't bring myself to ask them. The longer I watched Kayce, the more I realized I didn't want to linger on that day any further than I already had. I had already been through my version of hell, and I preferred to not go back again.
"I- um," he stumbled as he tried to decide what to say. "Let me go make sure Tate finds him," he motioned with his head as he began to follow his son.
I nodded and trusted he would find me once he was certain Tate was in safe hands. Though, I wasn't sure if I would necessarily call my Daddy's hands safe. I slowly wandered over to the front porch of the main house while I waited for him to come back, noticing then that Beth's car had disappeared.
As I sat down on the steps, I reflected on my sudden willingness to forgive him, regardless of what he did or did not do. No one had bothered to tell me exactly how Lee died, and I was mostly ok with that. All I knew was that he had died protecting our family, our livelihood. It sounded more poetic than it actually was, but I knew Lee didn't mind.
No matter how perfect I made him out to be in my mind, Lee was far from it. Even he held a grudge against Kayce, who was so eager to get off the ranch regardless of his talents as a rancher. I wondered if Lee resented him, being able to have a life, a wife and kid, whereas Lee hardly had time for one-night-stands.
I found resolve in knowing I had spent too much time, too many days thinking about how my brother died, why he died, and what Kayce's involvement was.
Don't be dumb, I reminded myself with a grin.
It would have been easy to let the contempt for every member of my family consume me. I already accepted the fact that I would never have a familial relationship with my father or sister. But maybe it wasn't too late for me to bond with Kayce. After all, we were the two youngest siblings, the two no person in our family— well, no living person, that is— understood. As I watched him come up from the stables, hands still shoved into his pockets, face just as solemn as ever, I began to consider maybe I had let my jealousy blind me from seeing my brother any differently.
"You sure you trust Tate with him?" I teased as he sat down on the steps next to me.
Surprisingly, Kayce chuckled. "You're starting to sound more and more like Monica."
I grinned and took it as a compliment, sensing that he had begun to relax. "How is she doing? I haven't seen her in a while."
He hesitated to answer as he let out a weary sigh. "She's fine," he muttered. There was something he wasn't telling me, but I wasn't going to push it.
I nodded politely. "She didn't want to come with you guys?"
He shook his head, his eyes locked off in the distance. "Nah, she's busy with some things."
"I must admit that I'm pretty jealous of her," I smirked, resting my elbows on my knees.
This caught his attention as he whipped his head over to me as he tried to make sense of my comment.
"I mean, she can pick and choose when she is here. It's as simple as saying 'not today,' and she never has to come to this fucking prison," I clarified. Why I felt so at ease with him, I was unsure. But it felt good to just talk to someone without formalities.
Kayce snickered. "I never thought I would ever hear something like that come outta your mouth," he remarked.
"Like what?" I asked.
He thought it over for a moment, carefully picking which words to say. "I dunno. I thought you loved this place."
"Loved it?" I scoffed, on the verge of laughing. "Kayce, I don't even know why I am his fucking daughter— I don't contribute anything, don't help with the ranch, I'm like a damn dog around here that he can't get rid of." What can I say, some habits die hard.
His face darkened as he studied me. "Sounds like you've been around Beth too much."
I couldn't help but laugh at his quick and accurate observation. I didn't know Kayce as well as I should have, but never for a moment did I think he was dumb.
"You know," I sighed and clasped my hands together. "For as much shit as we all give her, she's right about a lot of things."
"I s'pose," he acknowledged. "If you hate it here so much then, why do you stay?"
Isn't that just the damn question of the day, I sneered in my mind. "If you hate it here so much, why do you come back?" I countered, tired of talking about myself.
He shrugged. "It's not for me, it's for Tate," he explained.
My lips formed a tight line. "Well, we all might have missed out on the father-offspring relationship, but at least Dad can have it with him," I snarkily mentioned.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I think I'm ok with that," he grinned.
I nodded and smirked in agreement over our newly-established connection. And so as if we had nothing better to do because let's be honest, we probably didn't, we sat on the steps of our childhood home and talked as if it was the first time we'd ever met each other. Maybe we did because even though we had people in our life that we loved, Duttons inherently had trust issues. Or perhaps, we were so sick of not trusting anyone at all that we just couldn't take the loneliness any longer.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked as if I hadn't already talked his ear off for hours.
"Hm?" he mumbled. It was eery how similar some of his mannerisms were to Lee. Maybe that's what I found so comforting.
"Is it worth it? Leaving?" I was sickened at how much of a child I sounded like, but he should be used to it by now.
He cocked his head to the side a bit. "It's easy to be alone, Mare," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean it's better."
I let his words sink in for a moment as I rolled them around in my head. I don't know how Jamie missed that part of the Dutton gene, but there was something about the Dutton men that gave them the ability to spout advice like a damn fortune cookie. Kayce, meanwhile, brought his eyes up to the horizon as he acknowledged the golden sunlight that began to fall behind the mountains.
He stood, peering down to the stables. We realized at the same time that the trailers were long gone, the horses put up, and that Tate hadn't bounded up to us with tales of what he and Daddy had been doing all this time. In fact, there was a blaring lack of Tate anywhere to be seen. "Where are they?"
"I haven't seen them," I rose and followed him, quickly on his heels. Surely they had to be back by now. "Where did they go?"
"Hell if I know," he grumbled, his pace quickening as he strained to keep his composure. The closer we got to the barns, the more nervous I became. I knew Kayce trusted his gut, seasoned and trained to detect trouble, and so I understood to trust him when he was worried.
As we neared the stables, we heard shouting that put us both on edge. A scuffle in the dirt, perhaps over some dumb insults thrown between men. But my heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Jimmy hunched over while Rip pinned Frank against the barn wall.
"I'll kill you, Fred," Rip snarled and dropped him to the ground. He marched over to Jimmy and leaned close, muttering something to him. After an exchange of words, Rip patted Jimmy on the shoulder and turned to address Fred.
My breath hitched in my throat as it tightened. I was ruined; for whatever reason Jimmy broke his promise to me, and it was only a matter of time before Rip told my father.
"What did you do?" I gasped as I neared Jimmy. His head whipped around, mortified. "What did you tell him?!" Kayce halted behind me, surprised at my sudden outburst.
"Nothing, I—"
"What did you do, Jimmy!?" My voice rose as panic set in, my eyes darting between him and Fred whose face was crumbled before Rip's hulking figure.
"What are you talking about, Marley?" Rip turned to face me, Lloyd remaining in front of Fred as everyone in the nearby area listened.
My gaze jumped from person to person as I tried to make sense of it all. "I— Jimmy—" I breathed, heat flooding my cheeks.
Jimmy shook his head. "I didn't say anything," he panted as pity filled his face.
You idiot, I snarled to myself. You fucking idiot.
I swallowed hard as Rip trudged up to me, his shadow covering my entire body while his eyes analyzed every inch of my face. "Marley," he muttered under his breath. "Tell me right now."
Tears welled up in my eyes. From embarrassment, mortification, reliving the memory of Fred bending me over and using me as a glorified tube sock. I couldn't pry the words from my throat.
"Don't," Jimmy stepped close to us, his voice low so that neither Lloyd nor Kayce could hear. "It's not her fault, it's his," he hissed.
Rip glared at his interference while I shrank in place. "You better tell me what the fuck is going on right now, or so help me—"
"He raped her."
I wanted to blow away like the dirt that blew up in the evening sun. Rip's slack-jaw gaze forced mine to fixate on the ground or anywhere that I could find sanctuary. Rip's hands left his hips as his breathing practically stopped.
"Marley?" He murmured, his voice much softer than it was a mere moments ago. If I didn't know any better, it almost sounded concerned. "Is that right?"
I wiped the tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my lip as I nodded silently, completely, and utterly speechless.
"Lloyd?" Rip called and left Jimmy and me to face Frank once more. "Give this man his week's wages and get this piece of shit off the ranch."
"I'm sorry," Jimmy whispered to me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.
Lloyd nodded and motioned for Fred to move his ass, threatening him with the bullwhip in his hand.
"What do you want?" Rip briefly acknowledged Kayce who had lost all patience.
"I need a horse," he promptly answered, as he walked past us, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. "They ain't back yet."
Rip positioned himself between me and Fred as Lloyd walked him to the bunkhouse. I didn't dare lift my eyes to look at any of them.
"Jimmy, you take her home and go get your supper. And you—" he attempted to catch my gaze. "I wanna talk when I get back."