Chapter 4: A Woman's Perspective

The endless stretch of highway from Arizona to New Mexico gave Raylan's mind time to tumble like the weeds rolling out in the desert landscape. The late night talk with Rachel had left him wound up. A cold shower had cured part of what ailed him. There was nothing to help the rest.

He hadn't been playing her when he'd said she offered a lesson for him. To work together for as long as they had without knowing hide or hair of a spouse indicated serious skill. Hell, the entire office had known about him and Ava and Winona and Lindsey. Their knowledge made him feel cheap somehow. Not to mention the collective archive dedicated to Arlo. Then there was Boyd. He groaned.

"What?" Rachel asked from the passenger seat.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

He felt her eyes stay on him a second or two longer. She added nothing, so he remained tight-lipped. Not necessarily sullen, but he needed the quiet to mull things over. Just a little bit longer.

"Okay," she said. "Mind?" She reached for the radio.

"Go ahead."

"Any requests?" Rachel asked.

"No talk radio, please," came from Darla in the back.

"Raylan?"

"Whatever," he said. "I'm with Darla about the talking heads."

He tuned out the flickering through the stations. They seemed out of range of anything good. He wondered if she would give up, but she didn't. Rachel kept pushing the arrow for the next station. Static, stupid early DJs, or teen pop did not deter her.

So that made Raylan wonder about her marriage. What would cause her to give up and go for the Big D? She didn't seem like a quitter. If anything, she was a fighter, a "see-it- through-to-the-end" type. After his return to the shower and its steady stream of cold water, he'd fallen into bed and spent a good portion of the night thinking about her and Joe.

Her end of the conversation and the slump of her shoulders had him creating all sorts of scenarios. What was the "year, twelve months" thing about? What kind of man was Joe? Did she fall out of love with him? Had the job done them in?

A familiar rhythm caught his attention. He touched her hand to keep her from changing the station. The softness of her skin got to him so he pulled his hand back fast to prevent giving himself away.

"Cash," he murmured.

'I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time…'

"I Walk the Line," Darla stated. "This is classic."

For about three minutes, only the sound of Johnny Cash and the wheels hitting the asphalt filled the cabin of the Explorer. When the song ended, Raylan glanced in the rearview mirror to find Darla's gaze ready and waiting for him.

"Eclectic taste?" he asked.

"Yeah. He's amazing. 'Folsom Prison Blues'…with just the lyrics." She shrugged. "Then you add his voice? It's timeless."

Raylan directed his next question to Rachel. "So, this is what you heard on Beale Street?"

Half smile in place, she shook her head. "Not even close." Rachel shifted in the passenger seat to face their witness. "Doesn't sound like you're really done with music?"

"Done with music? I never said that."

"What are your plans after the trial?" Raylan asked to keep the conversation going and his mind from wandering. "The empty house hints that you're not going back to LA."

"I told you. I don't know. If I make it through the trial—"

"You'll make it," Rachel said.

"You guys are trained to be…" Her sigh, although soft, was hard to ignore.

"Be what?" Raylan asked. "Your protection doesn't end when we get to Lexington."

"And it will continue after the trial if that's what you want," Rachel added.

"I know."

"Giving testimony isn't a death sentence," Rachel said.

"I'm not bragging, but we've never lost a witness," Raylan said. "You won't be our first."

"Nik's family has a mean streak."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No," she responded quickly to his question. "No way. I'd rather die than help them get away with what they've done."

Those were fighting words if ever Raylan'd heard them. He and Rachel didn't have to worry about this witness cutting tail and running before being sworn in. Another glance in the rearview and he discovered that she was hiding behind dark lenses again. His attention back on the road, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"So from a woman's perspective, what's the most important thing a man can teach her?"

"Raylan," Rachel said, her tone a level above deadly, "are you serious?"

"I don't mean it that way!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What I'm asking is what do you wish men knew?"

Darla giggled. The sound then erupted into full on laughter. "He's serious," she said through gasps.

"What's so funny?" he asked, perplexed.

"What was in your coffee?" Rachel asked.

"Sugar."

The giggles subsided a bit. He checked out the rearview mirror again. Darla had removed the sunglasses to wipe the tears from her eyes. Meanwhile beside him, Rachel sat stiff as a board. He returned his gaze to the road and reconsidered his question.

"Well, she'll need to know things and I didn't even have girl cousins—"

"This is about your daughter." Rachel seemed almost relieved to make the statement.

Raylan nodded. "Of course—"

"You're a father?" Darla asked. "I thought you—Never mind. How old is she?"

"She's due." He tried hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. With Winona miles away, he wondered if he'd even get a call the day his child was born. Of course, that was fear talking, he reasoned. Winona wasn't immune to grudges, but she wouldn't keep him from his child. Would she?

"Oh…okay." Darla coughed once and managed a softly spoken, "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

He felt her retreat more than he saw it, considering he was the driver he couldn't just turn around and look her dead in the face. Before he could question the sudden change from infectious humor to dull melancholy, he sensed Rachel's eyes on him. She had turned down the radio and was staring openly at him. He wasn't sure if he liked the brazen perusal or not.

"Yes?"

"The questions were for your daughter."

"Yeah," he said.

"She's not even born yet."

"I'd like to be prepared."

"Who's the scout now?"

R&R

Prepared?

Rachel had no right questioning his reasons. If Raylan said his sad little interrogation was to help him become a better father, then so be it. Sure, men just randomly threw out "from a woman's perspective" because they wanted to give a 100% to their daughters. Of course, Rachel didn't doubt that he wanted to be a good dad. The doubt entered when she wondered if possibly reuniting with the baby's mother didn't also play into his Q&A.

It truly was none of her business. But she'd seen how wrecked he'd been when the ex left him the first time. Hell, everyone had. For a couple of days, Tim had even eased up on the snark. Art had threatened time off. Rachel hadn't known what to say so she'd just continued on as the fellow Marshal. The one whose desk was a step away. If they were partnered up, she went. If he talked about everything under the sun, she went along with that, too. All along, she hadn't been immune to the light that had dimmed in his eyes. He had changed when Winona left. So far, she couldn't determine if it was for the better.

A couple of hours later, they stopped for food and to stretch their legs. Maisie's Diner offered the usual greasy fare. After indulging in Los Angeles at the burger joint, Rachel was less inclined to clog her arteries. She ordered a plain ham sandwich on wheat and a cup of soup. Darla did the same. Raylan, on the other hand, tackled the blue plate special. A steaming plate of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and Texas toast looked filling enough to feed a family of five. He dug in with gusto.

"I can drive."

Both Raylan and Rachel paused mid-chew to look at each other before fixing their stares on Darla. She seemed not phased at all.

"Of course, I'm not shit with a gun, but I'm a good driver," Darla said. "Besides, it'll give you both a break and save me from boredom."

Raylan cocked an eyebrow in Rachel's direction as he continued to chew. His silent assent to Rachel came as a surprise. She finished the bite she'd been working on and nodded.

"Okay."

"How is that?" Darla eyed Raylan's plate with suspicion.

"I've had better, but it's not awful." He slid his plate toward her. "Want some?"

"No thanks."

"Rachel?"

"I'll pass."

"You know the best thing about diners is diner food," Raylan advised. "You two are missing out."

Darla smiled. "If you say so—"

'Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

She always gone too long anytime she goes away…'

Rachel saw Raylan's eyes narrow first. Then she noticed how Darla had become quiet and still. The other woman's face had become tense. Her eyes were quickly darting around the small diner. Both Marshals reached for their weapons and moved to stand. Darla shook her head.

"I spooked myself."

"You did a good job of it," Rachel said. "You spooked me, too."

"What happened?"

Darla waved toward the ceiling. "That song. Nik used to sing it to me whenever I came back from gigs. He couldn't sing worth shit. Bill Withers had nothing to worry about." She leaned back against the chair and sighed. The pensive expression remained, though.

The waitress came over with their check. Rachel handed her the department's Diner Card and asked, "What station is that playing?"

"KXYZ 102.7 FM. It's an oldies station. I'll be right back."

She called the Lexington office and got Tim on the line.

"Hey there," he said. "Has he shot anyone today?"

Rachel bit back a smile. "Not yet. Can you check out something for me?"

"Of course."

She told him about the song and gave him the station ID. He promised to find out if anyone had requested it or if it was just a strange coincidence. He would call her back asap.

"I wish you hadn't bothered," Darla said. "A dead man can't make song requests."

"Did anyone else know about the song?" Raylan asked.

"I doubt it. His family wasn't to keen on our relationship. I haven't heard the song in awhile. I overreacted."

The waitress returned with the slip. Rachel signed it. They all made last minute pit stops. Once outside, Darla extended her hand for the keys.

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah. I'll keep you both safe," the other woman said. "I promise."

R&R

On the road, Raylan recognized that Darla was true to her word. The woman could drive. The craziness of California hadn't rubbed off on her, but hell, a person needed a little crazy to deal with the 405, he reasoned. She handled the Explorer with ease despite the death grip she had on the steering wheel.

Though he'd tried to be discreet, she must have sensed his concern. Her head turned in his direction. With the jet black lenses, it was hard to read her eyes, but the deep release of air wasn't hard to define. When she turned back to the road, she leaned back against the seat and relaxed her hold. A bit.

It was a fact. The song had disturbed her. He wouldn't take that lightly. From the conversation in the backseat, he knew that Rachel felt the same.

She'd been on the phone for the last twenty minutes. She'd said "Tim" once or twice so he knew who was on the other end. Of course, that shouldn't annoy him. The former Army Ranger was a damn good Marshal and whatever info he was providing was necessary. But did she have to smile so much when she talked to him? Was she always so perky with Gutterson? Raylan grunted and looked out the window. To his relief Darla opted for the radio instead of snickering at his distress.

"Toby Keith," Darla murmured. "Is Country okay?"

"I don't have a problem with it," he replied.

The crooner lamented that he "shoulda been a cowboy" and how he "shoulda learned to rope and ride" while Raylan was drawn back to Rachel's conversation with Tim.

"So the song hadn't been requested?" she asked.

Whatever Tim replied seemed to reassure Rachel because she nodded and told him that everything else was going well.

Being a seasoned lawman, Raylan's gut told him those words were like dangling a carrot in front of the universe. Craziness was bound to find them in one form or another.

"How do you know when you have a tail?" Darla asked Raylan.

"What?" Raylan never expected the crazies to happen that soon. "A tail? We're being followed? Is that what you're asking me?" He shifted in his seat to get a better look.

"That car…the silver sedan… See it?"

"Behind the Chevy pick-up? Yeah?" Raylan said. "How long has it been back there?"

"I think since Albuquerque," she said. "It could be I'm paranoid. Truth is that song messed with me some."

"Take the next exit."

Rachel asked, "What's going on?"

"We're testing the car behind us."

"Testing? How?" she asked. "Are we being followed?" To Tim, she said, "I don't know."

Raylan said, "We're about to find out."

[A/N: Thanks for reading, following, and reviewing. Everything is deeply appreciated! Keep it coming! Raylan has been a little distracted, but maybe he's about to do what he does best. Maybe. If he can keep his jealousy under control! ;) There could be a little action in the next chapter and possibly a detour of sorts, too.]