Chapter Five:

Not long after he had arrived, Jimmy noticed that Katy's belly was more than beginning to swell with new life. He estimated that she was likely to drop her foal within the next few months. It seemed fitting, somehow, that she was to give birth to the first foal here. The one to begin building the ranch that would be her beloved owner's legacy. It almost felt like a gift, and benediction, to Kid and his memory.

Lou was as devoted to Katy as Kid had always been, and Jimmy watched the way she cared for and doted on the mare as her pregnancy progressed. When she thought he wasn't looking, he often caught Lou standing at the fence rail, her cheek against Katy's, gently rubbing her muzzle. He imagined that Katy was Lou's most constant and tangible tether to the man she had loved with a fierceness and devotion that he had always envied.

Their work on the station continued, but as Katy's time to deliver approached, Jimmy watched Lou become increasingly preoccupied with the paint mare and her coming foal. She moved Katy into a stall in the barn and spent hours standing at the stall door. Jimmy imagined that Lou was watching carefully for any change or shift in behavior that might signal the time had come, but as always, she shared none of her thoughts with him.

One night, about six weeks after his arrival at the station, Jimmy could stand the idea of another meal of hardtack and jerky no longer. He saddled Sundance and rode into town for a hot meal.

As he pushed through the doors of the Wild Horse Saloon, he was jarred by the raucous laughter and loud piano music that assaulted him. He hadn't realized how attuned his ears had become to silence in the weeks that he had been back at the waystation. This place that had once been familiar and comfortable now felt foreign and off-putting.

He slid onto a bar stool and ordered a bowl of chili and a shot of whiskey. Jimmy had never been much of a drinker. His time with Russell, Majors and Waddell had trained him to stick to sarsaparilla, and he had never acquired much of a taste for the stronger stuff in the years that followed. Not to mention that a gunslinger with his reputation, even as things began to settle down for him on that front, couldn't afford to lose any edge that dulled senses might rob him of when ghosts from the past unexpectedly reared their heads.

But tonight was an exception. Tonight, he needed to escape. Escape the frustration, the grief, the sense of loss, that had been dogging him ever since he arrived. He downed the first shot without even tasting it and told the bartender to keep 'em coming. He was four shots in before he even gave it a second thought.

He was thankful that the other saloon patrons had mostly given him a wide berth, and he imagined the grim scowl on his face likely had a lot to do with it. Unfortunately, his luck would not hold, and soon a blonde and curvy saloon girl sidled up to him and draped a lace-covered arm across his shoulder.

"Hey there, cowboy," she drawled in a put-on accent that was both familiar and somehow also turned his stomach. "How about we go upstairs and get better acquainted. You could let me help you get rid of that frown of yours."

"Not tonight, thanks. I ain't interested."

"William, pour this handsome gentleman another one," she called down the bar to the bartender. She then whispered in Jimmy's ear, "Maybe that will help convince you."

"I said I'm not interested!" he barked sharply, pushing back from the bar with more force than he intended. He was already beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey and in no mood to be bothered.

The saloon girl stumbled back at his abrupt movement and looked at him with disgust. The bartender moved toward them, ready to defend the blonde woman, if need be.

So much for a simple night out and a hot meal, he thought ruefully. Clearly, he would get no peace here tonight. He staggered back through the swinging doors and out into the welcome night air. The street was mercifully quiet, and he quickly mounted Sundance. His brain was getting increasingly foggy with the effects of the whiskey, and he said a quick thanks that his horse was familiar enough with the route home that she required little guidance from him.

By the time he stumbled into the station yard, he was well on his way to being drunk. He managed to strip down to his long john bottoms, tripping over his boots as he did, and falling heavily into his bunk. Sleep mercifully claimed him.

He was awoken with a start from a deep, whiskey-induced sleep. His head was more than a little fuzzy, but the darkness of his surroundings indicated that it must still be a long time before dawn. Unsure of what had awoken him, he surveyed his surroundings and was jolted by the shadow of a figure in the tack room doorway.

"You're drunk."

"Lou?" He shook his head to clear the fog of confusion. Those were the first words she had spoken to him since the day he had arrived. "What are you doin' here?"

"It's Katy. Somethin's not right."

The edge of fear in her voice sobered him quickly. He stood from the bunk, and though they had once lived together in close quarters for well over a year, he saw her blush at his state of undress. He ducked his head and cursed under his breath, quickly pulling on pants over his long johns.

"You reek of whiskey. You a drinker now or somethin'?"

"No. Not usually, at least. And I'll be fine," he said dismissively. "Now, what's wrong with Katy?"

Her face shadowed with worry. "I'm not sure. Somethin' just ain't right. She's shiftin' around like she's uncomfortable and pawin' at the ground. But it seems too soon for her to be foalin' yet."

"Maybe it's nothin." Jimmy tried to keep his voice even. He knew that nothing short of terror could have induced her to break her self-inflicted standoff and actively seek his help. As soon as he saw Katy in her stall, he knew that Lou was right. Something was definitely troubling Katy. He had a feeling that they were in for a long night.