Chapter Seven:
Jimmy woke in the morning with a mighty crick in his neck, a powerful hangover, and Lou's head resting in his lap. He tried not to wake her, but she felt him stir and opened her eyes.
Once she realized where she was and who she was with, she shot up quickly and anxiously brushed the hay from her rumpled clothes. Jimmy was afraid that she would bolt for the door, but she steadied herself and took a deep breath.
"I'm starvin'," she suddenly announced and strode purposefully from the barn.
Jimmy watched her retreat through the open barn doors with a mixture of confusion and disappointment, but when she was halfway across the station yard, she turned back to look at him.
"Are you comin' or not?" she called to him and proceeded up the porch steps and into the bunkhouse.
Jimmy hadn't entered the bunkhouse since his return to the waystation. He had spent the better part of his time there with the door barred against him. Now that Lou had finally invited him inside, he wasn't sure he was prepared to enter. He was caught off guard by the reluctance he suddenly felt.
He walked slowly up the steps and paused on the porch, steeling himself for what he knew was coming.
As he crossed the threshold, he was overcome with a wave of nostalgia so powerful that it threatened to bring him to his knees. Suddenly, they were all there again. The family that he had lost. Some through death, and some through miles and years and regrets.
Emma was at the stove fussing over her biscuits that wouldn't rise. Kid lounged on his bunk, arms crossed behind his head, dozing or daydreaming about his big hopes. Noah was in the corner reading the newspaper he had picked up on a recent run, boots propped on the table and whip coiled at his hip. Ike sat on his bunk, pencil clenched in his fingers, sketching his latest portrait. Cody jawed to no one in particular, spinning an outrageous tale of his latest exploits. And Buck sat quietly to the side, taking it all in and seeing far more about each of them than they ever knowingly revealed.
All of them were there in this room still. He was certain of it. He felt this truth more powerfully than he had ever felt anything before.
As if she sensed what he was feeling, Lou remained quiet as she went about preparing breakfast. When she finally placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him and sat down on the bench opposite him with her own plate, he was ready to talk. He wasn't sure what to say or how to say it, but he knew they desperately needed to put some things out in the open. He figured he might as well be the one to get them started.
"I'm sorry, Lou." His voice sounded too loud in the quiet room, and it made him feel awkward and self-conscious.
She looked up from her plate. "Look, Jimmy. I don't suppose either of us are too fond of makin' apologies. We both said some things back then that hurt each other, but what's done is done. No use wastin' any more time on the past."
"So, you're not angry with me no more?" He suddenly felt sheepish and like a little boy again.
"I didn't say that. I'm still mad as hell." His head shot up, bracing for another argument. But he caught a familiar glint in her eye and realized that she was teasing him. The look was so like the old Lou that it made his heart ache.
She allowed herself to grin for just a moment and then looked back down at her plate. "But I'm also tired. So tired, Jimmy. Tired of fightin' and tired of keepin' you at arm's length. I don't want to do it anymore."
"So, are you tellin' me that I win?" He knew he was pushing his luck and might lose all the ground that had just been gained, but he couldn't help himself. The temptation to return to their former banter was too great.
"Yeah. I suppose you win." She stood, tossed her napkin to the table, and headed out the door. "But don't you dare get used to it," she called over her shoulder as she left.
Jimmy's smile spread unchecked across his face as he watched her go. It wasn't as if all of the awkwardness was suddenly gone between them, and there were still some hard conversations left to be had. But maybe, just maybe, they were slowly finding their way back to each other and the friendship that had once been a touchstone for both of them, even in the rockiest of times.
They spent the day working on the old windmill that had once stood as a sentinel on the edge of the property in the Express's heyday but had since fallen into disrepair. Jimmy had climbed up the now rickety structure to hammer loose boards back in place while Lou hollered directions from the ground and critiqued his work.
"You missed one, Jimmy!" Lou yelled up to him, fighting to be heard through a stiff wind.
Jimmy rolled his eyes at her and affected an aggrieved sigh.
When he finally climbed down, his body was fatigued, but he felt more satisfied than he had since his final run with the Express. He had forgotten how good tired muscles and a contented spirit could feel.
"Well, that should do it, at least until we get those replacement parts from town," Jimmy commented as they walked back to the barn shoulder to shoulder.
They fed and watered the horses in companionable silence, both seeming pleased with their day's labor and their newfound truce.
When Jimmy turned to enter the tack room to settle in for the night, he felt Lou go still behind him and turned back to face her.
"Why don't you come back to the bunkhouse?" Her voice was tentative.
"Lou, you don't have to do that. I'm fine in here, really."
"Jimmy, there's not even a mattress on that old cot. And you must be gettin' eaten alive by bugs. It's really alright. I think I'd like the company, if I'm honest."
"If you're sure," he conceded.
He followed a few steps behind her as they crossed the station yard but paused again on the porch steps. He didn't want to end up back where they had started by pushing too far, too fast.
"I'll try it for tonight, and then we'll see."