BEFORE:

Adam did not take Peggy to the Ponderosa.

Or Virginia City. Or any of the half a dozen places where his family or Will would have found them when they began their inevitable search. They were bound to look for them. As soon as Will pulled himself enough out of his drunken stupor to realize what he had said. As soon as Pa realized how long Adam had been gone. As soon as Will ran to Ben waging his grievances about his uncle's eldest son. Adam was not bothered by the predictability of the conversation his father and cousin would share. With Peggy safe in his company, he could not find the desire to care. Let Pa and Will create their own narratives about what he did and why. If they did not want to listen or see the truth of what was happening, then he was through trying to convince them to.

He took Peggy to Carson City. It was a long trip for the girl and her pony, the distance far more intense than either had endured with one another before. Still, they did fine, each propelled further forward by the excitement of traveling a road that was so new to them both.

Adam and Peggy went to the general store immediately to obtain her new clothes. The female shopkeeper took one look at the young girl's worn and misfit attire and promptly guided her to the back of the store. The woman cast Adam a look of disapproval, silently judging him for Peggy's disorderly appearance. It was a look Adam was quick to ignore.

Carefully inspecting the few dresses composed of grandiose textiles, Peggy's brow furrowed with discontent as she turned and looked at Adam, her expression becoming guarded. "Do I have to pick a dress?" she asked. "Because... I'd much rather have a new pair of jeans."

Pursing his lips, Adam thought on the question, then shrugged. "Nope," he said, much to the shock of the female shopkeeper. "You can have whatever you want."

If the condemning expression upon the woman's face did not make his decision worth making then the beaming smile and pure joy that spread across Peggy's face did. Watching her spring eagerly into action, shifting her attention away from the feminine garb and to the smaller row of monotone shirts and pants reserved for boys, Adam smiled. He was unable to suppress the feelings gathering in the pit of his stomach, giving rise to the warm weight gathering in his chest. It was then he knew that he was in trouble—real trouble—because there was nothing Peggy could ever ask for that he would have the strength to deny. His love for her would not allow him to. This realization led to another, one which filled him with great unease. Life was going to change; there was no doubt about it now, and the road he was on wasn't going to be easy. In fact, it promised to be the most difficult thing he would ever do.

Leaving Peggy to clean up at the bath house, he boarded Sport and Traveler at the livery. Then he bought two tickets for the evening stage. And after they ate supper at the boarding house, Adam and Peggy climbed onto the stage. Pressing her small body into the warmth of his side, she curled up into the crook of his arm, her gaze set on the ever-darkening sky surrounding them. She did not ask him where they were going, or when they would return. He wondered if this was because she already knew what he was suddenly so uncertain of himself.

The stage ride was one of many, the trip he had embarked upon the longest of his life. He did not question what he was doing, because he tried his best not to think of it at all. It was better not to think about it, to borrow from tomorrow's worries in effort to distract from the ones of today. Today he had made a decision he could not take back, and tomorrow he would make another. Another day would follow that one and yet another decision would be made, each would be more difficult than the next, and each would be unforgivable in their own way.

Pa would never forgive him for what he was doing. He would hold it against him for the rest of his life. It was a fact that was undeniable, the pain attached to it too much to think about in the moment. Why did the right decision always have to be the most difficult? Why did it always have to come at such a high cost? What he was doing would change things. There was no turning back, no abandoning the choice now that it had been made.

There was strangeness about the birth of this journey, about the seemingly innocence of the first decision that had precipitated the ones that had come after. He had not taken Peggy away from the Running D and Will with the intention of not returning her; he had not meant to embark on the road he was currently on. The path had emerged, and he had taken it.

Reaching their destination, Peggy jumped down from the stage and fixed her gaze on the vastness of the city around her, her eyes widening like saucers. "Everything is so, so... big," she whispered.

"It's a real city," Adam said. "Virginia City and Carson City, they may have the word in their names, but they're more towns than anything."

"They're tiny."

"In comparison. I want you to be careful. Stay close to me, don't stray from my side or sight. There's lots of places a little girl can go missing around here. Most folks seem good-natured and friendly, but some of them aren't."

"I know."

Adam was doubtful of the assurance. "I mean it."

"I know."

"I didn't take you this far just to lose track of you in some crowd."

"I know." Peggy extended her hand, an offering that Adam briefly considered before accepting. "Feel better?" she asked innocently as he began to lead her down the congested cobblestone street.

Not particularly, Adam thought, a response he deemed best kept to himself.

He did not know how he knew where they were going, because he had never been there before. He did not know the street name, residence number, or any information that would have been required by a carriage driver—which was why he had decided upon walking. But from the moment the pair stopped in front of the staggering steps spanning the steep incline between the white, Italianate row-house and an equally steep road, he knew they had finally arrived—this certainty was yet another he would remain unaware of how it had been forged.

The house stood tall; its height seeming so overwhelming in comparison to his own. Vertical and narrow, its windows and front door were inviting enough, though the steep angle of the false parapet built on top of the roof seemed to extend a bit too high. Architecturally speaking, he never understood the need to cover a perfectly fine gabled roof with a counterfeit one whose sole purpose was to fool a man into believing the building was more grandiose than it was. Why couldn't one just allow things to be as they were? Why did they always have to pretend they were something they were not?

"Is this it?" Peggy asked, looking between him and the house.

"Funny," Adam mused. "I was gonna ask you the same question."

"How would I know? I've never been here before. Have you?"

"Of course not."

"Then how do you know it's the right place?"

"I don't know." Adam tilted his head. "I just do, I guess."

They looked at each other, each not daring another word as they began to climb the staggering stairs.

"Do you think she's home?" Peggy asked.

"Lord, I hope so."

"Are we expected?"

"No."

"Then maybe she won't be home."

"What makes you say that?"

Peggy extended her hands in an extravagant manner. "Who's gonna wanna stay home when they live in a city like this?"

"I'm sure there's plenty of people who would."

"Like who?"

"Oh, I don't know. People like—"

Adam closed his mouth, both he and Peggy coming to an abrupt stop a few mere steps from the petite porch as the front door of the house was thrust open and a plump, well-dressed woman stepped out.

"I thought I heard your voice," she said, her tone as exuberant as her smile as she bent down and opened her arms wide in invitation.

"Aunt Lil!" Peggy shrieked excitedly as she pushed past Adam and ran into Lil's waiting arms.

Adam hung back, giving the pair ample space and time to trade hugs and kisses. He felt out of place, an unwelcome voyeur of a tender reunion he had facilitated.

If Lil was surprised to see Peggy or him, she didn't let on. Emancipating herself from Peggy's grasp, she held tightly to her niece's hand and she did not seem anything other than pleased. "You have impeccable timing," she said to Peggy. "I just finished baking the most exquisite batch of cookies you've ever seen. If you can find the kitchen, they're all yours."

Peggy didn't hesitate. "Okay!" she exclaimed, rushing into the house.

Adam smiled. "You're a real miracle worker, Lil," he said. "That's the happiest she's been in days."

Appraising him curiously, Lil crossed her arms as though she was awaiting a specific response.

At a loss for what it could possibly be, Adam shifted his weight on the balls of his feet. What was she expecting him to say or do? The two of them had never shared more than a few words, each of them so carefully spoken, their calmness forced. "Nice house," he said, offering her an approving nod. He pointed his index finger at the false parapet extending the height of the front of the house. "I hate the parapet, though."

Arms falling to her sides, Lil's genial laughter filled the air. "Honey," she said, "a man like you cannot dream up a need for such grandiloquent things. That's a good thing, in case you were wondering." She waved her hand, prompting him to complete his ascension of the stairs. "Come in," she said. "I have the strangest feeling you have a very tantalizing story to tell, and you know how I feel about tantalizing stories."

Adam did, because he was once one of them.

Stepping into the house, he lingered momentarily and took a good look at his surroundings. The interior of the house was as orotund as the woman who lived inside of it. There was something about the colors of the fixtures placed over the windows, the pictures lining the walls, and the ornate furniture that reminded him of the Running D— the old Running D, the way the interior had looked when Laura had still been alive and before Will Cartwright had appeared. Pulling his hat from his head, he toyed with its brim, an unsettling rush of emotions overcoming him.

"Are you looking for a place to put that?" Lil asked.

"What?"

"Your hat. I know how you like to hang it by the door so you can get out."

If the statement was meant as a good-natured quip then it missed its mark. Adam flinched; it was an action that was as ungovernable as the sadness he knew he was failing to keep from his eyes. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. And old. And foolish. And… another emotion he wasn't quite ready to claim.

"Oh," Lil said, her expression softening as she grasped and held his forearm. "Honey, I'm sorry. You know me, I love a good quip. I didn't mean that the way it sounded— "

"How about it, Lil?" Adam asked, the gruff words spilling too quickly from his mouth to be stopped. He sounded more upset than he wanted to and less than he felt as he pulled his arm from her grasp. "Are you gonna blame me for Laura, too?"

"No."

"I don't see why you wouldn't."

"I don't see why I would."

"Everyone else does."

"Well, I am not everyone else. I would think you, of all people, would know that by now."

Not trusting himself to speak, Adam nodded, though he was not sure he agreed. Lil had tricked him before; she could do it again. It was her influence that had once pitted him against Will in a battle for Laura's attention. She was duplicitous and manipulative and neither characteristics were indicative of a trustworthy confidant. He did not trust her. Still, Peggy trusted Lil indefinitely, and she was a good judge of character. It was difficult to win her trust and even harder to keep it. She was skeptical of Will, and she adored her Aunt Lil, so maybe there was good to the older woman after all.

There had to be good in her, Adam thought, because, right now, she was the only person he trusted to look after Peggy. He knew Lil would not treat her poorly, or neglect her needs. She would honor her interests whilst shepherding the young girl toward womanhood—something neither Will, nor he himself could possibly do.

"Come on," Lil said, indicating at the back of the house with a tilt of her head. "Let's see if Peggy's left any of those cookies. I think you could use one, along with a very strong drink."

Adam could not stomach the offered cookies. The bourbon Lil procured from her top shelf, on the other hand, slipped down his throat a little too easily. She poured herself a glass as she refilled his, and Adam felt an odd burst of fondness for her. Or maybe it was his tiredness coupled with the strength and warmth of the drink that was softening his previously held opinions about the woman sitting across from him. Or maybe it was something else.

There was once a time when he would not have called Lil a friend, and even now he could not picture a day when he would. He tolerated her meddling and lingering when he had become engaged to Laura, because they were family—or they would be, at least. But he had not married Laura and now she was dead. He could not help wondering what that made him and Lil now.

"If you go upstairs," Lil said to Peggy, who stood between them munching on what had to be her sixth cookie, "there's a bedroom that has a shelf with books full of fairytales and a line of dolls on the bed."

Peggy was skeptical. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No," Lil assured. "I'm excusing you. A young lady should always know when it's time to take her leave. When you find the bedroom, you can consider it yours for the time being. Why don't you go and get settled?"

Peggy looked at Adam, her eyes searching for something. "Okay?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Adam asked.

Peggy stared at him a moment longer. "I wasn't asking about the room."

Adam frowned as he watched the girl walk away, wanting so badly to reassure her but unable to find the desire to lie. He was not okay. Not really. It was disheartening to realize his inner turmoil was so easily detectable. Or maybe it was not, he thought, the potential alternative filling him with dread. Maybe she had overheard what he had said to Lil near the front of the house.

"I have one for you, too, if you're in need of it," Lil said to him.

"I don't have much interest in dolls, I'm afraid," Adam said flatly.

"I meant a room."

"Ah."

"What about fairytales?"

"What about them?"

Lil cast him a serious look. "Are you sure you aren't in need of one of those?"

"Lil," Adam snorted. "With the way life has been going as of late, I'm beginning to think I'm stuck in one of those."

"Oh, I don't know. You don't come off as the damsel type."

"I'm not the damsel."

"Who are you then? Oh, let me guess, you're Prince Charming."

"Nope. I'm the villain."

"To who?" Lil laughed. "I hate to break it to you, you're a little too decent and good looking for the part. No. If you're not Prince Charming then you have to be the hero."

"If I'm the hero then who's the villain?"

"Judging by you and Peggy showing up at my doorstep out of the blue, I'm going to say Will, or…" Gaze not wavering she paused, seeming to take note of something. "Or maybe that's a role your daddy has stepped into this time around."

Adam did not like where this was headed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"I can't. You're the one who said it."

"Yes, but you're the one upset about it."

"I'm not upset."

"Honey, you cannot call yourself a villain and then pretend there isn't a reason for doing such a thing. Now, I don't know you very well but I have a pretty good idea of who you are. You're thoughtful. Purposeful. You take your time making decisions; it's the actions you make while caught up in the moment that one must worry about."

Adam thought the assessment a little too apt.

"You bringing Peggy here, to me," Lil continued, "was that a "in the moment" decision?"

It was a story Adam was not ready to share. How was he supposed to explain what had come over him when he was not sure himself? How was he going to do so without detailing how things between him and his father had devolved? He did not want to talk about his father. Not now. Not ever with Lil.

"You don't want to talk about it," Lil surmised as she poured him another drink. "That's alright. I don't want to talk about it either. Still, not wanting to talk about things doesn't mean they didn't take place. Being uncertain of decisions after we make them doesn't mean we should take them back."

Adam cast her an astonished gaze, his brows furrowing as he struggled to understand how a woman who had once manipulated him so carefully could ever say something so astute. It did not seem right. It was odd, in fact, that he would suddenly find himself here, listening to Laura's Aunt Lil share words of wisdom that seemed more appropriate coming from his father.

"How about it, honey?" Lil asked. "Are you going to share your story?"

Adam shook his head. "No."

"Alright," Lil agreed easily. "Then at least tell me a little bit more about your decision to bring Peggy to me."

"That was knee-jerk," Adam said, the admission coming easily. "I made the choice in the moment, but that doesn't change the fact that it needed to be done. Peggy would have ended up here eventually, I just expedited the trip. Will's not caring for her; he doesn't care about her. It's something he won't change, because he can't. It's not only that he can't; he doesn't want to. He has no interest in her now that Laura's gone, not that he ever really did."

"Did he ask you to bring Peggy here?"

"No."

"What about your daddy?"

"What about him?"

"Doesn't he care that Peggy was being neglected?"

Adam's brows narrowed. "I didn't say she was being neglected," he said, though he wondered what the purpose of denying it was.

Who was he trying to protect? Will's behavior certainly was not deserving of defense. Neither was his, he thought dismally. But what else was he supposed to do? Take Peggy to the Ponderosa and to his father who would have only demanded she return to the Running D? Oh, Pa would have let her stay for a while, and he would have had a few choice words for Will. But eventually he would have expected Will to take the little girl back and care for her in ways he was far from equipped to.

"You didn't say she was being neglected," Lil said. "It was implied. Surely, your daddy, being a man of such strength and morals, wouldn't condone his nephew's actions, especially when an innocent little girl was involved."

"Pa has become somewhat of a barrier between Will and criticism. No matter how warranted it may be. He's intent on protecting him."

"Even against you?"

"Especially against me."

"Hm." Lil became thoughtful. "That's not all of it," she said. "It can't be. I don't think your daddy would fight for someone without good reason, and you're not the type to give up on people without a compelling reason to."

"Who said I'm giving up on Will?"

"You're not sticking by him. Lord knows I am thankful for that. Peggy deserves so much more than the life her mother left behind. I hated thinking of that little girl without a mother, stuck on that ranch. I don't want to speak unkindly of Will, because, well, I liked him at first, but, judging by Laura's letters, he turned out to be a little bit too much like Frank Dayton and not enough like you."

Adam did not reply. Laura was a topic of conversation he was not yet prepared to explore with another party—especially not the woman's aunt. He wondered if Lil knew about Laura's diary, and what she had to say about it if she did. How could she stand by him after learning of a damning story like that? Why would she want to stand by him at all?

"You're a good man," Lil said, as though privy to the grimness of his thoughts. "Even if sometimes you feel like you're not."

It was a reassurance Adam had not asked for. Still, it felt oddly good to hear. He only wished it had been said by someone else.

The ease of their rapport was curious. It was nice to speak and have someone truly listen. To not be judged or forced to defend himself. To not sit in the company of someone who was skeptical of his intentions or actions, someone whose very expression radiated unexpressed anger over things that could not be changed. Adam thought about his father and Will, the things the pair were saying to each other and the things they were anxious to say to him.

Expelling a hearty exhale, he lifted his hands and rubbed exhaustedly at his eyes. Gritty and dry, they were bound to be left red by the action. The bourbon was beginning to wear him down, leaving him sluggish and tired as he began to feel a familiar pain build in the lower section of his back. The swiftness of the trip was beginning to catch up with him. The prolonged sitting required for travel by a stage had left his muscles tight and cramped.

"How about that bedroom?" Lil asked. "You'll find it upstairs, right next to the one Peggy is in. It's yours for as long as you need it."

Nodding, Adam focused his attention on following in Peggy's invisible footsteps and finding the room. He had only just stepped out of the kitchen, entering the short hallway that would lead him to the staircase in the front of the house, when he was so taken by a sudden thought he was forced to turn around.

"Who are you?" he quietly asked.

"What?"

"If this is a fairytale where Will is the villain, and I'm the hero, then what does that make you?"

"Well, there was a time when Laura said I was her fairy godmother." Lil smiled, her face suddenly seeming uncharacteristically kind. "Maybe I'm destined to become that for you, too."

Turning back around, Adam did not reply. He hardly believed in such things.

Making his way to the front of the house, he climbed the staircase tiredly and was presented with a short area which seemed composed only of closed doors. The house appeared much larger from the outside than it was. Still, on its second level, it managed to fit a total of four bedrooms and another very small set of stairs that appeared to lead up to an assumed attic space. If he had not been feeling so tired, he might have investigated his surroundings further, casting an intrusive gaze upon the confines of each room. Still, he had to look behind two of the closed doors until he laid eyes on Peggy, something which he had to do in order to allow himself to begin to relax. Seeing her did not calm him in the way he wished it would. It invited anxiety to settle in the pit of his stomach instead.

Peggy had lost interest in dolls, it seemed. Whether this was a distant development or a more recent one, he was unsure. Oddly, he found such an observation saddening. Though she often spoke as if she was much older than she was, it was difficult to see her abandon things that had once brought her so much genuine joy. It was not right for a little girl to be forced to grow up so fast, or that she should no longer find comfort in playthings.

The array of dolls Lil had promised still sat untouched on the bed. In the shelving mounted near the window, Peggy had found a book to read. Next to the side of the bed, she sat cross-legged, the book sprawled open on the floor in front of her. Adam wondered what she had chosen, if the words she was reading were enough to distract from any others she could have heard.

Looking up, she cast him a careful gaze. "If you're going to leave you have to tell me, okay? When people leave without saying goodbye, it's because they know they aren't coming back."

"I would never leave you without saying goodbye," he said.

"I don't want you to leave at all."

"I'm not leaving," Adam assured. He wasn't—at least not then. What tomorrow would bring remained a mystery to all of them, but he did not need to tell Peggy that. He could tell by the glint in her eyes that she already knew. "You mind your Aunt Lil, okay?"

Peggy nodded, her expression hardening. "Fine," she said as she returned her attention to her book.

Retiring to the room next door, Adam closed the door behind him. Removing his boots, belt, and hat, he pulled the bottom of his shirt from his pants, climbed into bed, and waited for sleep to claim him.

It did not come easy. The questions he imagined Peggy had wanted to ask circled his mind endlessly as he struggled to relax: You're here today, but tomorrow where will you be? Where will you go, what will you do, when you finally accept that the life you have no longer suits the person you have become? He did not know. His sudden uncertainty did not sit well in his head or heart. He was not used to being uncertain of anything; he was accustomed to always knowing exactly what to do.

He yearned for his own bed and room, and the unassuming comfort of having Pa and his brothers right down the hall. He longed for home. For another bitter conversation with his father. For the maddening predictability of what he had left behind. Up until this point he had been so focused on where he was going that he had not taken the time to think about what he would do when he got there. He had tried so hard not to think about his actions. What they would mean for Peggy, or what they would do to the people they left behind.

In the quiet, stillness of the room it was all he could think about. Doubt came a little too quickly as he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling of the foreign bedroom. He did not know what to do. Or if what he had already done had been the right thing. His decision to take Peggy away from Will, the Running D, and the life and home she had known since the day she had been born had been for her benefit.

Wasn't it?

Surely his actions had been born from genuine concern, a moral expectation, not something else—something dark, bitter, and unkind. He did not like Will, that was a given. But his actions had not been born from dislike. They had been prompted by worry and love.

Hadn't they?

In the steadily darkening bedroom, he found himself horrifyingly uncertain. He did not know what tomorrow would bring, what would happen the day after, or the one after that. He did not know how he was going to leave Peggy, or how he would ever be able to go back home.

He did not know. He wished he did.

TBC