Laurey

Laurey stayed in bed for a few minutes, dimly grateful that she hadn't been attacked there, that her bedroom could still be a place of safety. She got up and walked to the door, locking it as always, then turned back, her mind racing. If something happened to her there, if the man was somehow, impossibly, hiding under her bed or in her dresser, or if he broke in through her window, she wanted—needed Jud to be able to come in and rescue her again.

She unlocked her door and left it slightly ajar before washing her face and getting dressed, her body moving mechanically. If she weren't set on baking Jud a pie, she probably wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all. But with a goal in mind, she could force herself to see washing her face as part of the pie-making process, something nice she could do for Jud, who deserved every nice thing she could give him.

She went to the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients for a cherry pie. She didn't make them often—but then again, she hadn't known it was Jud's favorite kind. Next to pumpkin, at least. Focusing on baking, she refused to let her mind wander, refused to think of anything other than the very next step. She dreaded the time the pie would take to bake in the oven, even thought of making a second one to occupy her mind, but just then a familiar figure came into view.

"Aunt Eller! Aunt Eller!" She raced out the door and into her aunt's arms.

"You all right, Laurey?"

"No, I…well, yes, but…Oh, the most awful thing happened. These men, they came to the door. They were Indians, I think, it was hard to tell, they…" she held back sobs as best she could, not wanting to get choked up and have to repeat herself. "They tried to…hurt me, but then" she focused on the next part, she liked the next part, "Jud came in. He had a gun and he scared 'em off like it was nothin'. He rescued me, and then he took care of me. He…Oh, Aunt Eller, it was so frightenin'" she tightened her grip.

"But you're all right?" Eller gently eased away from her, held her at arm's length, as though she'd be able to see what was wrong. "They didn't…hurt you?"

"No, just scared me somethin' awful. But Jud made me feel better. You just—you wouldn't believe how brave he was. And he took such good care of me, stayed with me until I felt better. He was so gentle."

"Yeah, I'll just bet he was."

Laurey sighed, unsure of what her aunt was trying to imply, and too tired to care. Her head had been in such a whirl all day, and her body still felt so on-edge that she was already exhausted.

"I'm gonna take a nap, d'you mind makin' dinner?"

"'Course not. You look awful peaked."

"Oh!" Laurey added, before she could forget. "There's a cherry pie coolin' in there, but I promised Jud he could have it all himself." She walked up to her room, falling onto the bed without even taking her clothes off.

She awoke hours late, disoriented and mussed up. A glance at the clock told her she only had a few minutes before dinner. She shot out of bed and stripped down to her underthings before digging through her dresser for something, if not prettier, at least cleaner.

Her eye fell on her church dress, but she couldn't wear that for a regular dinner. If she'd had more time, she could have asked Ado Annie if she could borrow one of her outfits. But that wouldn't do; Laurey had never taken her friend up on the offer before, and she had no real reason to do so now. Besides, a borrowed dress would only serve to highlight the fact that she hadn't rounded up quite as much as her friend.

She put on one of her crisper shirts and the pair of jeans with the fewest stains. Her reflection told her she looked fine, and she tried to tell herself that fine was enough for a dinner with her aunt and the hired hand. Told herself there was no reason for her heart to pound in her chest and her fingers to run through her hair like they used to when she knew Curly was stopping by.

She tried to focus on Curly, tried to remember how his kisses felt, the ways he made her laugh, but the images of him were blurry, tinged with the resentment she felt at the fact that he hadn't been there. And even if he had been, he may not have been able to rescue her like that, wouldn't have been so quick to draw his gun like Jud was.

The dinner bell clanged, and she instinctively reached up to pinch her cheeks. She knew Curly liked her to look vibrant, to have a bit of a glow. But maybe Jud preferred girls to look pale, like they stayed inside most days. She compromised by pinching just a little bit, then headed down the stairs.