A/N: "Moving On" sparked many plot bunnies as to what might come next. This is the start of the most complete story I've written along those lines. To my recollection, I never started publishing it anywhere. But this was written long ago, probably without any sort of beta-edit. There are other plot bunnies that arose out of "Moving On," and maybe one day I'll explore them further, but this is the most complete story I'd written on the subject.
I have slowly been re-watching the series, and it's mind-boggling to me at how relevant it still is, nevermind how ahead of its time that it actually was. Not just the lessons from something like "Ten-Cent Hero," but also some of the historical markers that may have felt contrived at the time. With time and age and more historical understanding, even something like "End of Innocence" is a reminder of horrific events like the Sand Creek Massacre.
To that end, I realize this story may not even be all that historically accurate when it comes to the settlement of Colorado, but let's suspend that disbelief for a moment.
Without further ado, I own nothing, and here begins my first crack at a sequel to "Moving On," written more than a decade ago.
To re-cap: Kid left before marrying Lou so that he could fight in the war, the Pony Express ended, and Lou's brother and sister had been adopted.
Old Glory
The night was cool, a sign of the coming winter. Winter came early in Denver, barely a break from the summer, but revelers were out in full force in the streets, spending the sweet evening in bars and restaurants, or even beneath the flicker of a street lamp.
Louise walked calmly through the streets, wrapped tightly in a shawl that was a gift from the good marshal. At first she tried to refuse it, but he insisted, knowing she didn't have the money to spend on such luxuries.
She relented, but only after he finally assured her it was a gift of his own free will, no strings attached.
Rumors flew all around the city as to the true nature of their relationship, but the two of them were merely good friends. Real good friends, depending on one's definition.
The breeze whipped around her, forcing her to draw her shawl tighter around her slight body. She spared a glance upwards, the stars shining through the deep blue sky, some peeking out from behind a stray cloud or two. The moon hung blithely and as carefree as the revelers in the streets, bulbous, a sharp white with hints of yellow lurking in the shadows.
"Cold night tonight, Miss Louise."
Louise spared a smile for the young deputy on watch. "Ain't so bad Al," she called back. In fact, she preferred crisp nights like this, where deep into the night one could see his or her own breath, a sign of the hard times to come and a reminder of the prosperous summer. It was in nights like these that she felt calm amongst the delicate balance of yesterday and tomorrow, and with the frost came the promise of a new year.
But tonight was different. She hadn't the hope that normally came with the promise of frost, and the summer hadn't been all that prosperous for the Denverites. Truth be told, she herself couldn't even remember what prosperous felt like, but she couldn't complain.
Still, as was her tradition, she made her way through the streets to the Blue Moon Saloon. She frequented the place when she had an extra dollar to spare. It was a place that gave her the false comfort of friends, as it drew a crowd of those that spent most of their time on the outskirts of the city, working the land and the mines.
She felt more at home with these folks than the city dwellers, and the camaraderie amongst the crowd reminded her of simpler times. She had even become somewhat of a celebrity at the bar, often coaxed into a card game or a song or two, some of them even downright bawdy in nature.
But they all knew it was a show, and afterwards they went back to their drinks with smiles on their faces. It was a small thing she could do for them, to put smiles on their faces.
Her history was a mystery to the customers. The only thing they knew of her, aside from thinking she held the heart of the marshal, was that she spent her time at Old Widow Nelson's place.
Old Widow Nelson was a woman that lived at the base of the surrounding mountains. Rich at one time, she had used most of her money to keep herself alive without the necessity to go into town at all, couriers doing most of the deliveries. Louise happened upon the place on her travels westward, and nursed the widow back to health after finding her collapsed in the yard. She remained with her afterwards, a place to stay with no questions asked, and her presence allowed the extra money Mrs. Nelson spent on couriers to support the two of them as long as Louise became her courier. It wasn't her ideal thing to do for work, exactly, but Louise hadn't any better ideas at the time.
Truth be told, the old woman reminded Louise of her mother, and at the time, she craved the solitude the vast property held.
After a while she began appearing in town as the courier, and so began her visits to the Blue Moon Saloon, another place that asked no questions and gave nothing but the comfort of strangers under the guise of friendship.
Tonight, however, she was apprehensive about her appearance at the bar. The crisp night air reminded her of the promise she made to the marshal to appear, and again she drew the shawl tighter to herself. With a sigh, she entered and scanned the room, relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary. She scoffed inwardly at her old habit, one that she couldn't seem to break. Walking over to the bar, she took a seat on a stool, nodding her hellos to the faces she recognized.
"The usual?" The bartender asked.
She shook her head. "Tonight Caleb, make it brandy."
Caleb nodded and placed a snifter in front of the woman. She picked up the glass and swirled it around, finally taking a sip of the amber liquid.
"How's Old Widow Nelson holding up these days?"
Louise smiled at the friendly bartender's attempt at casual conversation, but frowned as she looked back to her glass. "Not well, Caleb. It won't be long," she said finally.
Caleb nodded in acknowledgement, then set about cleaning up some of the glasses other patrons had left on the bar.
"Brandy, huh?"
Louise smiled at the voice from over her shoulder and turned to face the marshal. Nodding her assent, he approached her and asked Caleb for the bottle and another glass. The two made their way to a table in a dark corner of the bar.
"So Marshal, to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation," Louise asked finally, taking the seat the marshal pulled out for her.
The marshal smiled at Louise, and took his own seat at the table. "Just wanted the company of a fine lady such as yourself on a night like this."
Louise flashed the marshal a genuine smile. His compliments always made her smile.
"They're talkin' again," she said finally, her eyes once again scanning the bar. She poured herself another glass from the bottle.
The marshal nodded. "I know," he said with a sigh. Taking a sip from his own glass, he glanced at her. "Does it bother you?"
Again, she smiled at him, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No," she answered. "Let them talk."
The marshal nodded.
"As long as we both know the truth," she said, casting a sideways glance at him.
The marshal nodded again, and swirled the contents of his glass before downing the rest and pouring himself a new glass.
"Does it bother you?" she asked, placing her hand over his.
He shook his head. "No. But," he said, looking intently at her, "it makes sense."
Louise sighed.
Of course it made sense that they'd be together. He had lost his wife in childbirth not quite ten years ago and never married since. The child hadn't survived either. She held an air of melancholy around her, her eyes hollowed by the lessons life had taught her. No matter the mood she was in, glee or sorrow, she always had that cloud surrounding her. Yes, they were a perfect match, even if it was only in the opinions of the residents of the fair city.
"I know," she said finally, turning her eyes back to the drink in front of her. "Harvey," she said after a moment, "I can't."
Again, he nodded, and again, he took another sip from his glass. "I know," he said finally. "It's hard though."
She offered him a small smile and moved her hand from on top of his to clasp his in hers. "For us both."
Harvey smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Old Widow Nelson, huh?" he asked with a shaky smile.
Louise nodded.
"How long?"
"I don't know Harvey. Not much longer."
Harvey nodded at her. "What do you plan on doing then?"
Louise sighed. "I don't know," she said, with a slight hesitation. She tried not to think about it.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, and neither missing the glances sent their way from other patrons.
Finally, Louise looked at Harvey. "You know," she said, "no matter what they say, and no matter what happens, I'll always be grateful for your friendship." As if for effect, she squeezed his hand again.
Harvey smiled at her, and returned the squeeze. "Me too Louise, me too."
"There will be another," she said, looking at him intently.
Again, Harvey smiled. "And you?"
Louise tensed and took her hand back, an action that startled the marshal.
"I'm sorry," he offered.
"Don't be sorry," she said, unsettled by her own actions.
"But I am," he returned, boring his eyes into her.
She offered him a sad smile, but a smile still the same. Their relationship was that of good friends, nothing less, but they had an understanding. Though they had shared each other's bed, it was only out of a need borne of grief.
"Harvey," she said, after a minute. Again she clasped his hand in hers, emphasizing the motion with a squeeze. "There will be another. There's still time." She knew in his heart he longed for another wife, another child. And although despite the years they'd known each other he still didn't know her complete story, he knew she had an ache in her heart that time had not tempered.
"And time for you, my dear," he offered with a smile.
She smiled at him again, but did not remove her hand this time. "But not tonight."
He nodded, completely understanding her implication. He poured himself another glass, and downed it in one swift motion. His bed would be lonely tonight.
"Louise," he said after a moment, "what happened?"
Louise flashed him a smile, pained, but a smile nonetheless. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said after a moment, relived that even though throughout the years she always spurned his questions, he still had the curiosity to ask.
"Try me," he challenged, pouring himself another drink. He knew if she drank enough they might relieve themselves of their grief with each other again, and he chastised himself for the thought. But his own curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't help himself.
She smiled at him. "I rode for the Pony Express," she said after a minute.
He laughed at her. "Get out, you did no such thing," he said, a full grin crossing his face.
She laughed at him and nodded. "I told you you wouldn't believe me."
He glanced at her and again squeezed her hand. Leaning in closer, he poured her another drink, and looked at this mysterious woman in front of him. "I believe you," he said finally, his glance hardening, attempting to convey that he did in fact believe her. But still, they both had their doubts at that.
She glanced at the drink in front of her, and pulled her hand from his. She sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to the room in front of them. She could hear the laughter coming from other tables, sense the speculation at her company, and she lost herself in the moment.
Taking another sip, she continued with her story. "I was to be married," she said finally, turning back to Harvey. "He left to fight in the war."
Harvey leaned back in his seat digesting the news. He turned his gaze over the same room Louise had scanned before. "So that's the big secret," he said finally, glancing back at Louise.
"It ain't no secret," she said absently. "I just never told no one," she added with a wink.
"Why now?" he asked, seriously.
She shrugged. "Why not?" she offered back, staring deeply into her glass.
"You still pine for him." It was a statement, not a question.
Louise scoffed at his boldness, and answered with a statement of her own. "No. I don't." Glancing back at him, she continued. "Love, on the other hand, now that's a horse of a different color."
He chuckled and topped off both their glasses. He raised his glass then, and looked at her. "To friendship," he said finally.
She smiled at him and cast him a sideways glance. Friendship was something she could afford. Raising her glass to his, she clinked it. "To friendship."
They downed their glasses and turned their attention to the nearly empty bottle. He had drunk most of it, as Louise usually preferred the taste rather than the after-affects. Tonight was no exception.
"I'd best be getting home," she said finally, rising from her seat.
"You know, I worry about you out there by yourself." He leaned forward in his chair a little, the liquor allowing him to throw caution to the wind and chance a step closer in their relationship. No one had ever been to visit Miss Louise at Old Widow Nelson's. He hoped he could be the first, though whether it was from the drink or from desire, he couldn't be sure.
She turned back to the table and smiled at him. "No need marshal," she responded, "I rode for the Express, and I still know how to shoot." She patted her hip as if for emphasis, and they both knew she kept a gun hidden beneath the folds of her skirt.
He nodded. He sensed that he stirred some memories that she would be lost in for some time. "Will I see you back here again?"
Again, she smiled at him. "Of course Harvey."
"Maybe tomorrow night?" he asked hopefully.
"Maybe tomorrow night," she replied.
Louise turned to walk out of the bar. "Not tonight boys," she called out at their various requests for a song. She walked out of the bar and back into the cool night air, hugging her shawl tightly around her.
Tomorrow night came too soon, and once again, Louise found herself walking through the dark streets of Denver to the Blue Moon Saloon. This night, however, when she found herself drinking the usual at the barstool, she saw Harvey hand over some money, and the two collected a bottle and went straight upstairs to one of the various rooms the saloon had.
