"But no, I was out for stars;

I would not come in.

I meant not even if asked,

And I hadn't been."

-Robert Frost

They had attracted a crowd of drunk and jeering men, beer spilling from the bottles as they waved them above their heads. I marched straight for the bar with no wish to be roped into the chaos. It took a moment more than I had patience for to get the barman to face me instead of the crowd, but my irritation settled with a strong glass of whiskey. This was too rowdy for me; I wouldn't stay for another. The crowd separated and I watched as Arthur and his friend, a young black man, stumbled over to order another round. I laughed to myself and shook my head as they swayed back and forth as though they were at sea, I'd never been much good at holding my liquor either.

"I know you." came a slurred but familiar voice, I looked up to find Arthur pointing at me from the other end of the bar, he tapped his friend on the shoulder and extended his finger further my way. "Lenny, I know her."

"No, you don't." I responded quickly, taking another sip of my whiskey. Watching them trip over each other was one thing, getting involved was another entirely.

"Who's your friend, Arthur?" the young man, Lenny, asked. He'd swung his arm around Arthur's shoulder for stability and was squinting at me, I couldn't tell if he was trying to recognize me or trying to figure out which one of me to focus on.

"Not my friend." Arthur corrected, belching loudly before taking another swig of his beer "She's a scary woman, Lenny. Real scary."

"I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else. You gentlemen have a good night." I say, finishing my up whisky and collecting my coat. I tipped my hat to them both, but they had already turned their attention to someone new. A man had appeared next to them, equally drunk and equally wobbly, I didn't overhear the conversation but it wasn't more than a moment before Arthur had grabbed him by the collar and taken him to the ground. Taking this as my cue to leave, I left a tip on the bar and headed back out into the night.

Despite spring being in full swing Valentine was still painfully crisp after sundown, I shuffled my way through the mud and the rain to the hotel, where I paid for a room and a bath. As much as I loved the bite of the water at Little Creek River, there was nothing in this world that could beat the feeling of stepping into a hot bath. The water rushed over me with such intensity that I momentarily felt sick, before relaxing into the tub. It felt like the dirt was burning off of me, the mud melting out of my hair. It felt like being woken up suddenly in the middle of the deepest dream, only to be met with the warmest embrace imaginable. I shuffled down and put my head under the water, it stung for a moment before the comforting silence took over. The only sound being the throb of the water against my ears. I wondered what it was like to live underwater all the time, was it still? Was it quiet?

I suppose not. There is always a bigger fish.

A knock on the door brought me up from my underwater meditation, it was one of the working girls offering a 'helping hand'. I refused, although not without hesitation. I had been one of those girls, many moons ago. With only myself to offer and no money to invest. I had found myself alone, a child in a growing world, prospect-less and fragile. I'd found men that could only be described as desperate, ravenous creatures all too keen to part with their money for a moment of my vulnerability. Some of them had cried afterwards. Some of them had made me cry. I touched the scar on my shoulder, the last physical reminder of those years.

I hadn't worked in a saloon or a bath house, I just stood outside them and offered more for less. It had worked in the end; I'd make enough for a tent. Then a gun. By the time I ran into Cripps I was doing okay for myself, although not as well as I've done since meeting him. He'd stopped me one day in this very town, said he'd seen me bring pelts to the butcher, said I was throwing money away. He told me he knew how to make a ten-dollar pelt into a hundred dollar-pelt. I thought he was drunk, which he was, but I didn't have much to lose by trying. It's been seven years now, and I've still never seen anyone cut through leather like him.

I sat in the tub until the water was cold and my skin was shrivelled, I considered asking for a top-up, but the day's activities were beginning to take their toll. The bed looked warm and inviting, the blanket looked padded and soft, it all looked like a living dream. It took all of three seconds for me to clock out when my head hit the pillow.

"Uh, Miss?" a voice stirred me, accompanied by a soft knock at the door. I groaned and pried my eyes open; it was light out.

"Yeah?" I croaked, the words coming out strangled.

"I'm real sorry but, if you ain't leavin' soon you gotta pay again."

"What time is it?"

"It's past noon, Miss."

I stretched and threw back the blanket, the difference in the temperature was like a slap in the face. I grimaced and hopped out of bed with as much energy as I could muster. Past noon? Comfort is dangerous.

"Sorry, I'll be heading out as soon as I'm dressed." I call out, the man sheepishly thanks me. I wait for his footsteps to fade before I start gathering my belongings. As I walk down the creaky hallway, I hear sounds of sobbing from the room closest to mine. My knock goes unanswered.

"You know there's someone crying up there?" I say as I make my way down the stairs, the clerk sighs and nods, throwing a quick glace to the upstairs.

"Yeah, he's been staying here for a few weeks now. Don't ever see him, but he always leaves the money outside of the door." he holds up a coin, just collected.

"Why the commotion?" I ask, slinging my coat around my shoulders.

"I'm afraid your guess is as good as mine. You come back now, Miss." he nods, bidding me farewell as I exit the hotel. I grit my teeth as I remember I'd left Aine in the stable. I ran over quickly, almost slipping in the mud on the way, throwing apologies to the stable hand as I grabbed her saddle. He told me not to worry about it, that she's always welcome.

I'll ask Cripps to bring her here, I thought, if I die.

My stomach twisted, reminding me that it had been far too long since my last meal, I prayed silently for a quiet saloon and led Aine to the hitching post. It was dead in there; a couple of bodies were hunched over on the tables having fallen asleep the night before. I ordered the lambs fry and a beer for the wait.

"You ducked outta here at the right time last night, Miss" the barman stood polishing the glasses that had survived the night. I looked around at the beer and blood stains on the floor, the walls, the tables. It would seem he was right.

"What happened?" I asked

"New folk in town causing trouble, as usual. Sheriff got 'em in the end."

I suppose I could have guessed.

"They still there?"

"Well, they ain't been back in here grovelling for forgiveness, so they better be."

I laughed. Of all the jobs in the world I wouldn't want to do, tending a bar was close to the top. I don't know how he had the patience for it.

The lamb's fry was sufficiently warm and difficult to chew, I almost ordered another one before I remembered Cripps was waiting on his liquor. I bid farewell to the barman and went to mount Aine for the ride back to camp, when I spotted the sheriff stood outside the jail looking as tired as I felt. Just mount up, Nora. Cripps is waiting on you, it ain't your mess.

But I didn't mount up. I marched over to the sheriff with the feigned determination of someone who understood their own motives.

"Heard you got a couple of sorry fools in there?" I said, trying to keep my tone light. The sheriff puffed on his cigarette and raised an eyebrow at me in question.

"Fools? Yes. Sorry? I ain't so sure. You with em?" he asked. I wasn't sure how to respond, if I said yes would he throw me in there with them?

"Not with them, no. They are old friends of mine, bumped into them last night before it got messy. Guess I was hoping to spring 'em." I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my worn jeans and shrugged. Best to pay it cool, I figured.

"Hmm..." he looked unimpressed. I couldn't blame him; I wasn't too impressed either. And yet here I was, busting out what were essentially strangers to me.

"We've all been there, right?"

"I should hope not." he threw his finished cigarette stub down on the ground and stamped it out, he told me to wait while and headed back inside.

It was the sorriest sight I had ever seen, the pair of them stumbling out like they had just learned to walk, hissing at the sun as though it was burning them. The young man, Lenny, vomited violently before lowering himself onto the steps and putting his head between his knees.

"So," he said, voice torn and chin covered in sick "that was a quiet drink?"

Arthur chuckled, rubbing his head in discomfort "Well, first one was pretty quiet."

I cleared my throat and stuck my hands on my hips, for a brief moment I felt like my mother. Both of them raised their grey and sickly eyes to look at me, a moment of recognition jumped across Arthur's face.

"What you doing here?" he asks, sounding like a man fresh out of a fight. I roll my eyes dramatically, making sure they don't miss it.

"Bumped into you last night, heard this is where you ended up. You're welcome, by the way."

"Yeah... well... thanks I guess." he mutters, kicking his boot into the mud. I narrow my eyes as him, you guess?

"Thank you, Miss. I'm Lenny." the young man holds out his hand, the hand in which he used to wipe his vomit-stained mouth, I wave it away.

"You're most welcome, Lenny. Where are your horses?" I ask, looking around the small horse that Arthur had ridden the other day, it was no-where to be seen. Arthur whistled loudly, causing both of them to wince and groan. I stifled a laugh.

"They probably found their way back to camp, don't think I hitched 'em." Arthur said

"Close by then. Close enough to walk?" I ask

"I can't walk nowhere," Lenny groaned, struggling to pull himself onto his feet "I'm near dead, Arthur."

I hesitated for a moment, well aware that I had already overstepped for no good reason. Well aware that Cripps would be staring at the opening of the trees hoping that every little movement would be me, well aware that these two fools had not asked for my help.

"You can sit on Aine if you like, Lenny? I'll walk back with you, as far as you'll let me." I offered, gesturing over my shoulder to where Aine was hitched. Arthur frowned at me and began to shake his head, but Lenny had already accepted in a flurry of gratitude. I called Aine over and helped Lenny hoist himself up, he commented on how tall she was before flopping forward like a ragdoll and staying there.

"If he vomits on her, you're cleaning it." I mutter to Arthur as I pull the reins over her head. He grunts and rubs the back of his head.

"This is real nice of you, but you can't come to camp. It's...complicated." he started, looking as close to anxious as I assume he could.

"I ain't asking for a seat at the campfire. I know you're a wanted man, Tacitus. I'll take the kid as far as you'll let me and then I'll be on my way." I counter, gesturing for him to lead the way. He hesitates for a moment, looking at Lenny's slumped figure, before sighing and making a start down the road.

"Beats carrying him, I guess."

The walk was slow, half for the benefit of Lenny who you couldn't believe was still in the saddle, and half for the benefit of Arthur who complained about the brightness every few steps despite his hat covering most of his eyes. He was sweating profusely, looking more like someone who had run across the entire Heartlands than someone who'd been barely walking for five minutes. I led Aine in silence, taking in the views as I followed Arthur's staggered footsteps. I wasn't sure if I should speak, or just leave him be. It turns out he decided for me.

"This is kind. I appreciate it, and I know he sure will." he said, nodding at Lenny. I give him a small smile in return.

"If I'm honest I'm not sure why I even offered. I guess it's a selfish motive, gives me something to do." I say, more to myself than anyone else. Is that what's happening here, just another distraction?

"Well, whatever the reason, thanks." he tilted his head to face me, all I could see was sincerity.

"You're welcome."

We walked forward as silence fell again, no sound but the wind and Lenny's disorientated groaning. A few times I thought Arthur would trip over his feet, but he managed to steady himself. Moments like these made me wish I could read Aine's mind, what would she make of all this? I imagined she wouldn't be too pleased about carrying Lenny, who had begun to smell of hot sick under the sun. I wasn't too sure where we were headed, but I knew Flatneck Station wasn't far from here. I'd not spent much time in the area that surrounded Valentine, only ever finding myself here while passing through. It was beautiful, rich with wildlife despite being so close to the railroad. If you were on the run, this wouldn't be such a bad place to lay low, I decided.

I was about to ask how much further we had to go when Arthur stopped and turned to face me, he'd somehow gotten paler. He reached up and pulled Lenny from Aine, throwing him over his shoulder with remarkable ease.

"This is us." he said, I looked around for a camp but there was nothing in sight. I supposed that was the point. I nodded and smiled awkwardly, unsure of myself suddenly. It's not like I wanted to hang around, even if I was invited to...which I was certainly not.

"Well, take care. Hope he's alright." I say, looking at the unconscious Lenny draped over Arthur like a coat.

"He'll be miserable," he laughed, patting Lenny softly on the back "and then he'll be just fine. Thanks again for...well...this."

"No bother." I wave his thanks away and mount up. He turned his back to me and started shuffling further down the path, I bent to give Aine a pat of thanks.

I supposed he owed me now, and I'd see him again soon for the favour returned.

"Oh, Arthur!" I called out, hoping he could still hear me. He stopped and turned slightly, enough to see me from over his shoulder. "You know Black Bone Forest? Up from Strawberry?"

"West of Mount Shann?" he calls back

"That's it. Meet me there in the crossroads just before mid-day. Not tomorrow but the day after, and bring a good gun!" I shout, he holds out a thumbs up and continues on his way. I follow suit. It's a surprisingly quick ride back to camp, perhaps it's the good deed, perhaps it's the good night's sleep, but my mind is blissfully quiet as we stride through the hills and rivers. I manage to shoot a buck and heave it onto the back of Aine, who was enjoying the spring breeze.

I decide to ask Cripps to play a song on the harmonica when we get back, it felt like a good day for music.