Title: Chuck vs. the Wildcat 3/?
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: It's the 1870s in the American Southwest. Charles "Chuck" Bartowski, after avenging the death of his sister, has fallen in with gunslinger John Casey. There's a range war in El Dorado, and Chuck finds himself on one side of the war. And on that side is a woman named Sarah Walker.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or ElDorado. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: If you're familiar with the movie, you'll notice that this story is shifting quite a bit starting in this chapter. When I sat down and started planning the plot, I was surprised that my simple story of about four chapters quickly ballooned into a much longer fic. So get ready for more action and more romance than originally planned!
XXX
Chapter Three: A Gallant Knight
XXX
Chuck gripped Sarah Walker's elbow tightly as he guided her through the deserted streets. She clearly wasn't happy with him, if the little yanks she kept doing, trying to break free of his grasp, were any indication.
Most men would be annoyed by her, Chuck thought. They'd want her to be quiet and go along like a good little girl. But Chuck liked her spirit. She wouldn't go down quietly, and he admired that about her.
Although he'd have to admit that he also admired her tight-fitting trousers. He shook his head, trying to focus.
"Distracted?" she said, her voice full of sweet disdain.
"Not-not exactly," he said. "Just wondering what your story is."
She stiffened a bit, then started walking faster. "Nothin' for you to worry about."
His long legs easily kept up with her. "I wouldn't say I'm worried, Miss Walker."
"Miss Walker?" she repeated, sounding amused. "I don't get that too often."
"It's a shame that you don't," he said, pausing at the porch of the jail. "Hey inside-it's Chuck. I'm coming in."
"Git in here!" Casey bellowed.
Chuck winced, hoping Sarah hadn't noticed. From the smirk on her face, she had.
He lead Sarah inside to find Morgan looking nervous, Beckman with a distracted air, and Casey full of anger. "You should know better 'n to go off by yourself!" Casey said, advancing on Chuck.
"You had Shaw to deal with," Chuck retorted, doing his best to stand his ground. "I thought I could handle it."
Casey grunted and stepped back. "Don't do it again, kid."
"I won't. I found this girl across the street. She says she's-"
"Sarah Walker, what were you doing?" Beckman interrupted.
"After Matt got shot, Pop didn't think you'd take Shaw," Sarah said bluntly. "He stationed us in different spots, in case one of us could get the job done." Sarah paused and looked almost sheepish. "I'm guessin' we were wrong."
The sheriff didn't rub it in and instead changed the topic. "Didn't you learn anything the last time you shot someone?"
"I sure did," Sarah said. Her eyes flicked over to Casey before returning to Beckman.
"Well, you can tell your father we got the man that shot your brother," Beckman said.
Chuck could see a softening in Sarah's stance, like she was relieved, but still cautious.
"Will he get what he deserves?"
"Don't know, Sarah. I'm not a judge, just a sheriff," Beckman said tartly. "You round up your family an' get on home. Be careful and stay close."
Morgan, who had been silent the whole time, spoke hesitantly. "How's your brother?"
"Doc says he's gonna be fine," Sarah said. She turned to Chuck and held out her hand. He froze, knowing that he had been staring at her since they had walked into the jail.
"My gun?" she prompted.
"Oh. Oh! Of course," Chuck said, pressing her rifle into her hand.
Sarah looked around the room. "I reckon you're doing what you think is right, arresting Shaw and all. Thanks for what you're doing."
Beckman nodded and Sarah turned to go.
"You don't need someone to help . . ." Chuck started, the chivalry Ellie had drilled into him rearing its head.
Sarah looked at him, her blue eyes guarded and confused. "Why?"
He spluttered. "Why-oh, well, I guess . . ." Feeling foolish, he stepped back and made a path for her to leave.
She gave him a crooked half-grin, then stepped out of the jail.
Chuck could feel his ears turning red. He darted a look at the sheriff and Casey. Beckman looked amused.
"She-she's something else," Chuck said.
"You're lucky you didn't get shot," the sheriff said.
"She really wouldn't have done that, would she?" Chuck asked. It wasn't so much he doubted the sheriff as he needed to confirm this fact for himself.
"She shot me," Casey grunted.
He could feel his eyes bug out. "Wha-she-really?"
Casey tapped his back and turned to talk to the sheriff. Chuck's mind whirled. Sarah Walker had been the one to shoot Casey in the back? That didn't make any sense to him. She didn't seem like the kind of person to take the coward's path and shoot a man when his back was turned. No, if Wildcat Walker was going to shoot you, she'd do it facing you-and give you both barrels, Chuck thought.
Morgan grabbed Chuck and pulled him into a corner. "You offered to help the Wildcat get home?" Morgan's voice was equal parts awe, humor and shock.
"It seemed like the right thing to do!"
Morgan snorted. "You're crazy. You know what happened to the last man who tried to court her? Let's just say he's still a laughingstock, and the knife wound isn't healing so great, either."
"Just 'cause she's . . . tempestuous," Chuck said, needing a moment to find a word that wouldn't reveal his feelings, "doesn't mean she shouldn't be treated as a lady."
"Chuck, Chuck, Chuck," Morgan said, "she doesn't want to be a lady. Ever since her mom left when she was six-Mrs. Walker ran off with some gambler-Sarah Walker has been one of the boys."
"I just think there's more to her than that," Chuck said. He didn't understand why he felt so strongly about this, but he did. Sarah Walker was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he didn't want to treat her like everyone else did.
"It's your funeral, then," Morgan said, sounding resigned. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."
Chuck sighed and flopped down on his cot. Turning to face the wall, he tried to calm his mind and get some sleep. He had a feeling he was going to need all the rest he could get.
XXX
The next morning, Chuck woke to the enticing smells of good coffee, eggs, grits and bacon. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing and smelling.
"Jack Walker sent his cook over to make breakfast for us," Morgan said excitedly. "Here!" He shoved a heaping plate into Chuck's hands.
He started shoveling the food in, enjoying the first decent meal he'd had in days. When he finally started feeling full and slowed down, Morgan handed him a cup of coffee.
"Sheriff and Casey have been talking all morning. I think they're planning something."
"What?" Chuck asked, using some bacon to scoop up the last of his grits.
Morgan shrugged. "Dunno. Casey went over to Miss Gertrude's a while ago."
"So he's eating the swill over there instead of this feast?" Chuck snickered.
Morgan laughed, too, but stopped as Casey called from the porch. While Morgan went to let him in, Chuck got out of bed and stretched.
"Casey, what'd Gertie say?" Beckman said, looking up from her desk.
"She's in," Casey said, hanging up his hat.
Beckman nodded, then looked at Morgan and Chuck. "We're gonna hole up and wait for the US Marshal to arrive. With Shaw in custody, things should be quiet."
"What-what about Bennett?" Chuck asked, trying not to sound too nervous.
"He's not gonna risk his paycheck," Casey said. "He tries anything, his boss is the first one shot."
Chuck nodded slowly. He supposed that made sense, but he wasn't sure if Ty Bennett was the type to do what conventional wisdom said he'd do.
"Gertie's gonna bring us food while we wait. Shouldn't be more than four or five days 'til the Marshal arrives," Beckman said.
"You remember when he was last here?" Morgan asked in surprise.
"Yeah," Beckman said, raising her chin. "Threw a bottle at him, didn't I?"
Morgan nodded. "An empty one."
Chuck held back a snort of laughter by drinking the last of his coffee.
Casey snagged the last of the bacon and sat on the corner of Beckman's desk. "We'll keep doin' patrols every four hours. Grimes, you'll go out with me. Bartowski, you'll watch the sheriff's back. Gertrude will keep an eye out and let us know if she notices anything."
Beckman leaned back in her chair. "Still don't think we should be patrollin'. Too risky when we have Shaw locked up."
"You gonna let the whole town go to pot, Diane?"
"Course not, Casey," she said, rolling her eyes. "But we gotta look at the long-term, too. Makin' sure this thing between Shaw and the Walkers is nipped in the bud, that's in the best interest of El Dorado."
"We've been round and round over this, Diane," Casey said, standing up and facing her. "No way to make this work right with needin' to guard Shaw and needin' to keep the town safe. So we gotta do the best we can by each and hope for the best."
The sheriff grumbled softly but didn't say anything distinct. Casey looked over at Morgan. "Go over to Gertrude's and ask her if she's got any guys who can keep watch over town."
"Me?" Morgan asked, looking very nervous. "Casey, you know that Ma doesn't like me goin' to Miss Gertrude's . . ."
"Hell, Grimes," Casey said. "How old are you now?"
"T-t-twenty-six."
"That's old enough to not be scared of goin' against your mama!" Casey said, a vein in his neck pulsing.
"You know what, Casey, you're absolutely right." Morgan scurried to pick up his hat and his gun. Clearly, Morgan had chosen that an angry mother later was no match for an angry Casey now.
XXX
Luckily for everyone in the jail, except for Shaw, a hush seemed to fall over El Dorado. Miss Gertrude had some of her men, all of them big and burly and short-tempered, make rounds through town. Anyone considering getting up to trouble stopped thinking that way when one of her men walked by.
Chuck was grateful for the quiet. It gave him time to work on a letter to Devon. He wanted to tell his almost-brother about finishing his quest against Ellie's killers. Devon Woodcombe was more than his sister's intended; he had been like an older brother to Chuck. A confident, talented, very handsome older brother, true, but he'd always looked out for Chuck. As a Quaker, Devon hadn't agreed with Chuck's decision to go after the men who had killed Ellie, but he had asked Chuck to stay in touch. It was tough to feel like he had disappointed Devon, but he wouldn't change what he had done.
It'd been over six months since he had written to Devon, so a letter was overdue. Chuck wrote about his new job in El Dorado, commenting that he was planning to spend some time there so Devon could write him back. He hesitated, but he went ahead and wrote about Sarah, just mentioning that she was interesting.
He folded up the letter and wrote Devon's address on the outside, then stood up and walked onto the porch, joining Morgan. The shorter man turned and looked at Chuck. "Hey. Your letter all done?"
"Yep. Gonna give it to Miss Gertrude and ask her to mail it when she brings dinner."
Morgan nodded and looked around the town. Chuck joined him, enjoying the chance to get some fresh air. In the midday sun, El Dorado didn't look that different from a dozen other towns that Chuck had passed through over the last five years. Yet there was something special about this place, he thought. Times were bad, but there was still a feeling here, a sense that good things were coming.
It seemed like a good place to settle down, Chuck thought as he leaned against one of the posts that held up the porch's roof.
"Casey snuck out to see Miss Gertrude," Morgan said. "Sheriff will be mad about that."
"I think Casey can take Beckman," Chuck said, grinning.
"Oh, he can, but you haven't seen Sheriff Beckman when she's mad. It's scary that there can be that much anger in such a little body."
Chuck laughed, and Morgan grinned a little and shrugged.
"How long have you lived here?" Chuck asked Morgan, curious to learn more about his new friend.
"Ever since my pa died," Morgan said. "'Bout five, six years now. We had a farm to the east of town when I was younger, but then we moved here and Ma started a sewing business."
Chuck nodded. "Seems like a nice town."
"It is," Morgan said. "Things were startin' to settle down, before Shaw started pushin' the Walkers. We've got two churches, a good general store. Doc Wood's gettin' a bit old, but he's okay. We even got a school two years ago. But now . . ." Morgan sighed. "People don't like what's goin' on. They might start movin' on."
"That'd be a real shame," Chuck said.
"Yeah," Morgan agreed. "But I think things are gonna work out."
Chuck looked at Morgan, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question.
"Havin' help and the sheriff gettin' sobered up, it evens the stakes out," Morgan explained. "I think we can get this thing dealt with fast, now that we got Shaw arrested."
"Yeah," Chuck said, straightening up. "Guess we better get back inside."
Morgan nodded. "Yep, we'll need to distract the sheriff from noticin' that Casey isn't here."
XXX
When Casey returned, Chuck thought that maybe it would have been better if they hadn't kept the sheriff from realizing he was gone. Because there was no way of missing that Casey had returned. Not with the mood he was in.
"Damn stubborn woman!"
"Uh-oh," Morgan muttered. "I knew things were goin' too well between Casey and Miss Gertrude."
Chuck glanced at Morgan, then looked back at Casey, who was stalking around the jail in high dudgeon. "Um, Casey . . . is something wrong?"
A grunt and a glare was all he got, and Chuck tried again. "Can we help with something?"
"Not unless you know how to talk sense into Gertrude," Casey grumbled. "She's takin' patrols with her men."
"What's wrong with that?" the sheriff asked, her voice cold. "She's a damn good shot, and most everyone listens to her, men or women."
"They don't hafta listen to her to shoot her," Casey said. "She's got plenty of menfolk to help us out. She's doin' enough bringing us food."
"More than enough," Morgan mumbled under his breath, but not softly enough to escape Casey's notice. Morgan shrank back as Casey glared at him.
"Hey, hey, hey," Chuck said, stepping between Morgan and Casey. "No need to take your anger out on Morgan. Casey-John, Gertrude is plenty smart. I'm sure she knows how to take care of herself."
"I told her not to do it!" Casey thundered. "She should listen to me!"
Chuck caught Beckman rolling her eyes before she turned and stalked back into the jail. He took a breath and faced Casey, hoping this would work out. "Casey, my sister Ellie was pretty strong-willed. She didn't mind someone telling her that she might not have the skills to get the job done, but she really hated being told that just 'cause she was a woman, she couldn't do something. That made her madder 'n a hornet. So maybe you telling Gertrude she shouldn't help out hit her the wrong way."
Casey grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just lookin' out for her."
"Of course you are," Chuck said. "I bet she knows that. But if she wants to pull her own weight, you gotta respect that."
"I don't gotta do anything," Casey grumbled.
"You wanna keep spending time with her, you do," Chuck pointed out.
Casey's answering glare didn't have much heat behind it. He clomped into the back room of the jail, leaving Chuck alone with Morgan.
The deputy stared at Chuck. "That was . . . that was amazing."
"What?" Chuck asked, pouring himself some coffee and trying to ignore the small shake in his hands. Going toe-to-toe with Casey took something out of a man.
"You! Soothing the savage Casey like that! That was awesome!" Morgan cried, his voice just above a whisper.
"Just tryin' to get him to see reason," Chuck said with a shrug. "Because the last thing he wants is to lose Miss Gertrude over a fight like that."
"Still, nobody talks back to Casey and lives to tell the tale!"
"Easy, buddy," Chuck said, patting Morgan's shoulder. "It's no big deal."
XXX
As twilight fell over El Dorado, Chuck sat on the front porch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. After three days cooped up in the jail, getting fresh air by stepping out onto the porch had become a welcome respite. No one had been allowed farther from the jail than the privy, and with the same people to talk to and the same walls to look at, Chuck found his thoughts kept going around in circles.
And a popular topic of thought was Sarah Walker.
He still didn't understand how or why she had shot Casey in the back. Yet even with that mystery, he was still eager to learn more about her. Taking one last, long breath of the cool evening air, Chuck stood up and went back into the jail.
Morgan was sitting in a chair by the stove, reading a tattered penny dreadful. He looked up as Chuck dropped into the chair beside him. "Hey."
"Hey, Morgan," Chuck said, leaning back in his chair. "You got a minute?"
"For you, Chuck, sure," Morgan said, closing up and folding the magazine. He slipped it into his back pocket, then faced Chuck.
Chuck looked around the jail, making sure that they weren't being listened to. He lowered his voice. "D'you know why Sarah shot Casey?"
"You don't know?" Morgan asked in surprise.
He shook his head. "It's been bothering me ever since I heard about it . . ."
"Well, it's a sad story," Morgan began. "'Bout six months or so, the thing with Shaw was just getting started. A rumor went around that Shaw had hired Casey and that Casey was ridin' out to meet with Shaw, so the Walkers were tryin' to defend themselves. Luke, the youngest Walker, he was about sixteen then, and he was stationed at this big rock near the trail that goes from town and runs past the Walkers' land towards Shaw's spread. All he was supposed to do was fire a warning shot, so his pa would know that Casey was coming."
Chuck nodded, indicating that he followed Morgan so far.
"Luke wanted to be a hero. He was a good kid, but he was too young for what he was doing that day. So when he sees Casey ridin' along, he jumps up and starts shooting at him. And you know Casey."
"He shot back," Chuck said with a dry mouth.
Morgan nodded, looking regretful. "He did. Hit Luke in the stomach. Casey rode up and tried to help him, but Luke wouldn't listen. Said his pa had told him what happens to a man who gets shot in the gut. Casey was tryin' to figure out what to do, but Luke pulled out a handgun and blew his brains out."
Chuck bent his head, feeling a stab of sorrow at this tragedy. "The poor kid," he said quietly.
"Yeah. So Casey takes Luke back to the Walkers' and tells Mr. Walker what happened. Sarah heard part of it-she knew that Casey shot her brother, but she didn't hear the full story 'cause she ran off in a huff. She's too impulsive, Chuck."
"What happened next?" Chuck asked, choosing not to respond to Morgan's warning about Sarah.
Morgan sighed. "Casey went to Shaw's and turned down his offer. On the way back, Sarah Walker shot him."
"It seems awful cowardly of her, shooting him in the back," Chuck said, rubbing his damp palms over his trousers.
"She's normally a good shot. I guess she just missed," Morgan said.
Chuck nodded, still unsure of how he felt about all this.
"Casey don't hold it much against her. He got up after she shot him and told her off," Morgan said, wrapping up the story. "I think he actually kinda admires her."
"That's just odd," Chuck remarked.
"Honor among gunfighters or somethin'," Morgan said with a shrug.
"So her mom runs off when she's just a little girl . . . and she's brought up like a boy," Chuck said, organizing his thoughts. "Shooting, wearing trousers, riding a horse. She shoots Casey but is still takin' risks, like the other night."
Morgan nodded. "When we were kids, she was right pretty. I'd see her at church, and everybody liked her. Once her ma took off, though, she gave up on bein' a girl and started wearing trousers, never brushin' her hair, getting into fights. She caused so many problems that her pa put her to work."
Casey ambled out of the anteroom and sat down at the sheriff's desk. "You two are chatterin' like a pair of old women."
Chuck stood up and walked over to Casey. "I was asking Morgan about how you got shot."
The older man smirked at Chuck. "Worried about whether Walker's gonna shoot off somethin' valuable if you try 'n court her?"
He swallowed, his ears turning red. "No. Just that we're on her side, kinda, with this whole fight, and I just wanna know if I'll have to watch my back all the time."
Casey nodded. "You won't. She's grown up a bit since then. Hopefully gotten to be a better shot, too."
"That's a bit contradictory. And not reassuring at all, Casey . . ." Chuck said, feeling nervous.
Casey snorted. "Girl's nickname is Wildcat. Ain't much about her that's reassuring." Casey started cleaning one of his guns. "You better figure out where your head's at, Bartowski."
"What-what do you mean?"
"Just 'cause we're takin' Jack Walker's side in this don't mean we're gonna let 'em do whatever they want." Casey glanced at Chuck. "And if you hear somethin' from the Wildcat that don't sound right, what are you gonna do? Go along with her? Or tell the sheriff?"
"You think Chuck should get close to Sarah to get info out of her?" Morgan asked.
"I'm not gonna do that!" Chuck proclaimed loudly.
"Nah," Casey said at the same time. "No way could Bartowski pull one over on Sarah Walker." He looked up at Chuck. "But you might get stuck decidin' what side you're on, if you get involved with her."
Chuck rubbed a hand over his face. "You're all acting like I'm interested in her."
Casey and Morgan snorted in unison, a truly creepy sound. Chuck looked back and forth between the two of them.
"Face it, kid, it's pretty obvious. But you might wanna do some thinkin' before you show up at her door with flowers and candy." Casey spit on a cloth and rubbed it over his gun.
Chuck slumped down in a chair, covering his eyes with one hand, as he tried to figure out what he should do. Was Casey right, and he'd have to worry about choosing sides? Or would it all turn out to be worry over nothing? It'd been so long since he'd had friends, people to worry about. But it'd also been a long time since he'd met a woman that made him notice her.
Would he have to choose between his new friends and a potential romance?
XXX
The next morning, Chuck woke up first and slowly got up from his cot. Rubbing a hand through his curls, he pulled on his clothes and boots and started making the coffee. Casey was still snoring and Morgan seemed like he was just about to wake up when someone pounded on the front door.
Casey jerked upright, then nodded to Chuck. He crossed to the door and stood to the side. "Who is it?" he called out.
"Sarah Walker," came the crisp reply. "I wanna talk to the sheriff."
Chuck fumbled with the lock on the door and opened it quickly. "Miss Walker!"
Casey snickered from his bunk, but Sarah ignored him as she stepped inside. "Mornin', Bartowski," she said with a raised eyebrow.
"Good morning," he said, stepping back and trying not to stumble over his feet. Her buckskin trousers were dusty but close-fitting, and she was wearing a faded red top that hugged her curves. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders, the hat perched on the back of her head keeping her hair out of her eyes. Chuck blinked and tried not to stare. "Coffee?"
She nodded and Chuck quickly poured her a cup. By the time he had handed it over, Beckman had come out of the back room, clearly having just gotten out of her bed. She looked distinctly rumpled and very unhappy about being awake.
"Sarah, what brings you out this early?" Beckman asked as she poured herself a mug of coffee and took a long swallow.
"We've been keepin' watch the last few nights, and we don't like what we've been seein' from Shaw's ranch," Sarah said, pausing to take a small sip of coffee. "Looks like Shaw's hired gun is planning something."
Beckman looked over at Casey. "Thought you said Bennett wouldn't try anything."
"Said I thought he wouldn't. If he's gotten stupid since I knew him, how'm I supposed to know?" Casey said grumpily.
The sheriff rolled her eyes and turned back to Sarah. "We're expecting the US Marshal in a day or so. I'd say keep watch but don't make any aggressive moves."
"Pop's not gonna like that answer," Sarah said.
"He's not gonna get another one," Beckman said sourly. "I got a kid, a greenhorn, and an old grumpy gunslinger at my disposal, while tryin' to hold the man who's alleged as responsible for this range war. If Jack Walker could figure out a better way to use those resources, he's welcome to ride out here and tell me himself."
Sarah shrugged. "Thought it was a long-shot to get your help right now, myself, but I argued with him that we should at least tell you what we've been seein'."
"I'm obliged for the information," Beckman said. "We've been relyin' on Gertie to bring us news and food. Speaking of, give my thanks to your pop for sendin' over your cook the other day."
"You can thank me," Sarah said. "It was my idea." She glanced at Chuck. "Thought some of you could use some good food."
Chuck felt his ears go red. Was she saying he was too thin? Did she not like that? At that moment, he resolved to eat more of the food that Miss Gertrude brought by, even if it was inedible.
Sarah took another sip of coffee, her face screwing up momentarily. Chuck noticed that and immediately filed it away. Sarah Walker didn't seem to like coffee. Or at least, not black coffee.
She handed the nearly-full mug back to Chuck. "Gotta get back to the ranch."
"Ride safe, Sarah," Beckman said before turning back to her corner of the jail. Chuck quickly set down the mug of coffee and followed Sarah out onto the porch.
"Miss Walker?"
Sarah turned around, adjusting her hat. "You keep callin' me that, folks are gonna think you're sweet on me." She grinned tightly, as if she was trying to make a joke, but he spied something in her eyes: something closed-off, like she had to keep her emotions back in order not to get hurt.
"Okay, then . . . Sarah," he said, looking down at her. "I just wanted to say, that breakfast was one of the best I've ever eaten."
"It was all Rosa's doing-she's a real treasure. She's been with us for years," Sarah said, her tight smile softening into something more natural. "You're welcome for it. Figured if you were eatin' Gertrude's food, you'd want something that was actually food."
Chuck laughed quietly and nodded at Sarah. "You've got that right." He smiled at her.
For a split-second, she looked confused and then she took a step back. "Morning, then, Chuck." She turned on her heel and went to the hitching rail, taking the reins of a brown-and-white pinto. She swung up into the saddle and set off at a fast trot, without another word or look.
Chuck watched her go, leaning against one of the porch supports. Every time he saw her, he felt the same pull. It was like the magnets he'd used for experiments at school, testing the strength of the magnetic fields.
He'd seen her twice, and each time, he'd wished everyone else around could be somewhere else. Like how it had been for those few moments when they'd first met, when it was just the two of them and she revealed a hidden sense of humor. But when other people were around, she clammed up and got stiff, like she was trying to play some kind of role.
As the dust from Sarah's horse settled, Chuck made up his mind. He'd find a way to spend time with her, just the two of them. His feelings for her were definitely romantic, but he had a feeling she wouldn't react well to an offer of courtship. Besides, they barely knew each other. They could start off slow, get friendly, and see what happened.
He hoped that being friends would be just the beginning for them. He'd had plenty of experience with being disappointed, with getting his hopes crushed. But he couldn't stop hoping. And this time, it felt like there was a lot riding on this.
End, Chapter Three