1 August

It felt as though she had seen every hour of the night.

Sleep had briefly claimed her, but then she awakened with a start in the darkness and had subsequently been unable to fall back over. She'd paced the floor of her room from corner to corner and, at one point, had even ventured into the deserted and silent bar. She hadn't been quite sure what the point of that had been. There had certainly been no intention on her part to secretly procure any whisky but, part of her had hoped that she might have found Hank there, particularly in light of what had transpired that night.

Jake had clearly said something, something which had angered Hank to the point of almost not wanting her in his sight. His suggestion that they move things much faster than originally intended and end the marriage as soon as her parents left had come as a surprise and the implications frightened her, assuming as she had that she might have more time to consider what to do than he was now proposing.

The longer she had stood alone, however, the more she accepted that he wouldn't come and, even if he had, what would she have said to him? Instead, she had retreated back to her room and locked the door, once more beginning her vigil.

Now, as the sun shone down on what was promising to be yet another beautiful day, she found herself at the mirror, fixing her hair and smoothing her dress repetitively, as though with each tweak and brush she could somehow make the inevitable more palatable. As she finally left her room, her stomach felt tight with anxiety and, this time, she found Hank in the bar, Cheroot in hand, watering down the whisky.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

"Mornin'" he replied, never lifting his head. "How'd ya sleep?"

"Badly. Ten minutes until the stage arrives and I don't know what to do with myself." Almost instinctively, she moved over to one of the tables, intending to wipe it or do something to quell how she felt. Then she remembered how he had raised his voice to her and stopped.

"Why don't ya go fer a walk?"

"No. Chances are I would just keep walking and not come back." It was meant as something akin to a joke, but when she met his gaze, she knew that he recognised the truth of it.

"Wanna have one more shot at practicing what yer gonna say?"

"No," she shook her head. "This is going to sound terrible, but I feel as though I could use a drink."

"Sasparilla?" he raised his eyebrows.

"No, a real drink. Whisky. Please."

Without further comment, he lifted a glass, filled it to the brim and handed it to her. "Best not have too much 'fore they git here. Don't wanna be fallin' down drunk in front of 'em."

"One is fine," she gasped, as the liquid burned her throat, placing the glass back down on the bar. "Don't let me have any more."

"Reckon I can keep ya in check?"

"Isn't that what a husband is supposed to do?"

"Depends on the husband," he shrugged. "I always kinda figured if I ever had a wife that had a mind of her own and a bit of spirit about her, I'd just let her be. Ain't one for stickin' to the rules myself after all."

"And what about the wife you do have then? Do I have a mind of my own and a bit of spirit about me?"

Looking up, he met her gaze, and she felt a stab of…something…go straight through her. "If ya allow yerself to be who ya really are…reckon I'd have no chance tamin' ya."

His words gave her cause to pause, and she found herself eager for further explanation. "So…who am I, really?"

He smiled lazily at her, "Guess that's what yer here to find out."

The sound of wheels and horses prevented her from asking anything further and she hurried out into the thoroughfare in time to see the stagecoach pull to a halt in front of Loren's store, many of the townsfolk turning out to greet it. "Oh Lord," she whispered to herself as the driver jumped down and opened the door for his passengers, her mother the first one to step out. For a moment, she froze, wondering if it might not be better not to be seen at all, but her mother's gaze cast around and quickly rested on her, her face splitting into a smile of relief.

"Lou!" she exclaimed, hurrying forward and pulling Eloise into a tight embrace. "Oh Lou…darling! We've been so worried about you, thinking all sorts of terrible things! Alexander! Thomas, she's here! But…oh it's so good to see that you're safe!"

"Indeed, it is," her father said, drawing her to him also. "This last week or so has been so difficult."

"When we saw your note and realised you'd gone…" Flora shook her head. "Thank heavens you're alright."

"I'm fine Mother…Father…and it is good to see you," she said, surprised by how truthful her words were. "I've missed you and I'm sorry that my leaving caused so much worry. I hope…I mean, I tried to explain…"

"Let's not think on that now," Flora said hurriedly. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk. I just want to look at you…" she held Eloise at arm's length. "For all you've been through, my dear, you do look well."

"Thank you," she replied, her gaze suddenly slipping to the man standing behind her mother, her stomach knotting once again.

"Eloise."

"Thomas…" she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. He was as handsome as he had always been and his expression was one of hurt, confusion and yet, almost a glimmer of hope, one she knew she would have little option but to dash. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I…I don't expect you to understand why or…"

"None of that matters for now," he interrupted her with a tight smile. "I'm just…so very glad that you're safe and well."

She smiled, grateful for his apparent understanding though not naïve enough to think the subject wouldn't require to be revisited in time, and then turned back to her parents. "How are the boys?"

"Furious that we wouldn't let them come," Flora said. "But they do send their love."

"You must have had such a long and tiring journey."

"It has certainly been arduous at times," Alexander said. "I believe we could do with freshening up a little."

"Of course. I'm afraid it's not the most salubrious of locations, but this is Dr Michaela Quinn, and she's agreed to allow you to stay in the rooms above her medical clinic whilst you're here."

"Mr and Mrs Ward," Michaela said, stepping forward and extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Michaela Quinn and, as your daughter says, you're more than welcome to lodge at my clinic for the duration of your stay."

"A woman doctor, how…interesting," Flora said. "You don't see many of them around."

"No, you don't."

"And you have a clinic here?"

"Yes, just across the way," Michaela replied, gesturing to the building. "There are no patients at the moment, so you won't be disturbed. You too, Mr Lewis," she said, almost as an afterthought.

"Well, that's very kind Dr Quinn, but…is there no hotel in town, no boarding house?" Flora turned back to her daughter. "Where are you living, Lou?"

"No, Mother, there's no hotel or boarding house in town and as for myself I…" she trailed off, realising that the moment she had been dreading the most had arrived. "I…I live here…in the saloon." She watched as her parents followed her gaze, taking in the building and then glanced at one another, a thousand unspoken words passing between them.

"You live in the…saloon?" her father echoed.

"Yes."

"But I don't understand," Flora said, "how would you…why would you…?"

"She lives there with me."

Eloise turned in time to see Hank come down the porch steps, toss his Cheroot onto the ground and rub his hand on his pants before extending it in greeting to her shocked looking parents.

"Hank Lawson. I'm the proprietor here and, well, I'm also yer daughter's husband."

XXXX

"This is Grace's café," Eloise declared with slight over-enthusiasm, almost verging on hysteria. "It's the best food around here for miles! Look, here's a free table!"

"Might wanna tone it down a little," he whispered to her as the assembled party, still clearly in shock, followed her direction.

"Sorry, I'm…I'm just…"

"Doin' fine," he nodded encouragingly at her, and she smiled gratefully in response.

"I just…I don't understand any of this," Flora said, sitting down slowly. "You mean to tell us, Lou, that you arrived here just over a week ago and you're…married?"

"Yes."

"To Mr…uh…Lawson here?"

"Yes." She glanced at him, and he smiled in return.

"It's preposterous!" Thomas exclaimed, pacing around the table. "You can't mean for us to believe that you and he are…are…"

"What happened, Lou?" Alexander said, leaning forwards. "There must be some rational explanation?"

"Well…when I got off the stage it was dark and…and a man attempted to…take hold of me and, well, Mr Law…Hank…rescued me and offered me a place to stay and well…we…uh…" she looked at him somewhat wildly, "we…uh…"

"Fell in love," he finished for her, smiling as her cheeks reddened.

"Yes, we…fell in love…" Reaching over, she placed her hand over his and he found himself surprised at the warmth of her touch and the softness of her skin. "I realise it might seem strange or…"

"Strange?!" Thomas thundered, "It's…it's…"

"Might wanna lower yer voice," Hank said, looking up the stranger. "Ain't one for likin' hearin' men shoutin' at my wife."

"Your wife…" Thomas shook his head. "I…I can't believe it, I…"

"You'll have to believe it Thomas, because it's true," Eloise said, her voice stronger, holding up her hand so they could all see her ring. "We're legally married."

"Lou…" Flora shook her head. "You've never been like this, never been so…so reckless. Leaving home as you did is one thing but marrying a man you barely know…a man who…I'm sorry Mr Lawson, I don't mean any offence but…"

"None taken," he replied easily, though he couldn't help but be reminded of Jake's words to him.

"Perhaps…perhaps we should speak alone with our daughter," Alexander said. "Would you mind?"

He looked at Eloise who paused and then nodded, so he rose from his seat and then bent to kiss her on the cheek for good measure. "Be right over there if ya need me."

"Yes…yes, alright."

Shooting Thomas what he hoped was an appropriately territorial look, he ambled over to an adjacent table where many of the other townsfolk were gathered, clearly eager to bear witness to the unfolding events.

"Sounds like they're taking it well," Jake said ironically.

"Her fiance's a fine lookin' man though," Myra commented breathily, ignoring Horace's look. "Look how tall and handsome he is."

"Doesn't sound like he's too happy about what he's hearing, mind," Loren added.

"Don't really matter if he's happy or not, nothin' he can do about it," Hank said. "Legally wed to me, so he got no claim on her."

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Michaela asked.

"Even if she don't convince 'em, still nothin' they can do about it. Until we get an annulment, marriage stands." He looked around at them. "Y'all can think what ya like about me cause it ain't about me. It's about Ellie and what she wants. And what she wants is not gettin' forced into marryin' a man she don't love. Know ya don't know her all that well, but I do. She's a good person and if ya care at all, ya'll go along with this. Only gonna be fer a few days til we can git them outta here."

"Well, I ain't gonna say nothing," Myra said.

"Me neither," Jake replied. "Far too much fun watching you try to convince her folks you're worthy of her."

"I don't see any women hangin' off yer arm," he retorted, somewhat satisfied by the cowed look his remark brought to the other man's face. Then he turned back to the person whose opinion always seemed to carry the most weight. "Michaela?"

"Hank, I would never want to do anything to hurt someone like Eloise, but this lie…"

"Ain't hurtin' nobody."

"What about her parents? From what I've seen so far they appear to love and care for her very much."

"So much so that they'd pressure her into a marriage she don't want?"

"I suppose there must be reasons why they want her to marry Mr Lewis so badly…"

"Reason ain't good enough to force her. Please. Like I said, ain't askin' ya for my sake."

Michaela paused and then let out a long breath, "Alright, I won't say anything."

"Thanks," he nodded, "appreciate it." Turning back, he watched as the conversation progressed between Eloise and her parents. Thomas eventually took a seat at the table and by the time Grace had brought over food and coffee, things seemed to be more amiable. Eloise looked up, caught his gaze and smiled and he knew that, so far, matters appeared appropriately on track.

XXXX

The day passed quickly, Eloise taking the opportunity to show her parents, and Thomas, around town, pointing out all the things that Hank had shown her and extolling the virtues as best she could. Whilst her parents appeared slowly receptive, Thomas remained mostly silent, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking. Was he accepting of the situation, ready to admit defeat, or did he have further submissions to make?

Hank had returned to the saloon, citing the pressures of the daily business. Her parents had excused him gracefully but, as with Thomas, she found she had no real grounding as to what they truly thought of him.

As evening turned into night, they found themselves back at the clinic, her parents ready to turn in.

"It has been a very long day," Flora said, "I fear I may fall asleep on this very spot if I don't retire. Goodnight Lou."

"Goodnight, Mother, Father," she said, kissing them before turning her attention back to her former fiancé. "Thomas."

"May I speak with you? Alone?"

"Yes, of course." Once her parents had entered the clinic, she and Thomas began to walk slowly back along the thoroughfare.

"I'm sorry if I was loud and…and angry earlier," Thomas said. "It just all came as such a surprise to me. I had convinced myself that it was perhaps just some attack of nerves, some…last minute worry that had prompted you to flee, something that I could put your mind at ease about. But…to come here and find you married…and to a man like that…"

"I'm aware that this may seem very out of character for me," she replied. "But I don't know how to explain to you how I felt."

"Try."

"Alright…I felt trapped. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. We'd been courting but a few months and then all of a sudden, my parents were telling me that we were to be married due, in no small measure to an investment your family could make in our business and…and then you were telling me about everything that was going to happen once we were married. That I'd need to give up my work, that we'd be travelling so much and…I realised that it wasn't what I wanted."

"The life wasn't what you wanted, or I wasn't what you wanted?"

She met his gaze, feeling terrible at the hurt in his eyes. "Both. You are a lovely, good and kind man, Thomas, of that I have no doubt. And I'm sure that you will make someone very happy one day, someone who loves you but…but I don't, and I can't marry a man I don't love."

"And yet you love Mr Lawson?" he asked, his tone contemptuous. "A man who…who runs a saloon and a…a brothel…"

"Yes, I do," she replied, hoping she was coming across with sincerity. "I can't explain the feeling when I met him but…but I knew it was different from what you and I had."

"Has he put his hands on you?"

"I…well, I…"

"If you're his wife, then you must have shared his bed."

She felt her face flame. "I don't think that's necessary to discuss…"

"Of course it is!" he stepped forward and took hold of her arms. "There are ways, Eloise, to…to extricate oneself from a marriage of regret and…if there has been no consummation…then you can have an annulment granted! It would be as if the marriage had never happened!"

She wanted to laugh at the irony of what he was saying, but his fingers were pressing painfully into her flesh. "Thomas…"

"I will still have you. If you haven't shared his bed, then I will still have you. In fact…" he swallowed. "Even if you have, I will. You can't say fairer than that."

"You're hurting me," she tried to wriggle from his grip.

"No-one else would take you in those circumstances but I will, I will!"

"Let go…!"

"Eloise…Lolly…"

"Stop it!" Pulling backwards, she wrenched herself from his grip, stumbling as she did so, finding herself staring into the face of a man she knew even less than she felt she had done before.

"Eloise, I'm sorry, I…" He moved towards her again, but she turned her back on him and hurried back along the thoroughfare and into the saloon, banging the doors behind her as she did so and moving quickly through the bar.

"What happened?" Hank asked as she passed.

"Nothing. Thomas and I were just talking."

"Ain't believin' that," he said, pursuing her. "What did he say to ya?"

"Nothing!"

"Ellie…" taking hold of her arm, he pulled her towards him, causing her to yelp as he pressed down on her skin and pull her arm back towards her. "What did he do?"

"Nothing, Hank, I…" before she could finish, he stepped closer to her, took hold of her arm and pushed up her sleeve, revealing the marks left by Thomas's fingers. "It's nothing, honestly…" He turned away from her, "Hank! Hank stop!" It was her turn to pursue as he barrelled through the bar and outside into the balmy air. "Stop…stop!" Hurrying in front of him, she brought him up short. "Please, don't do this!"

"Ain't havin' him put hands on ya like that!"

"It was just…just a reaction to everything that's happened. It wasn't…wasn't him…"

"Yer my wife and I ain't havin' it!"

"So, what do you propose to do, beat him? Won't that just make my parents, and Thomas, believe that they're right in whatever prejudice they might have of you?!"

"No-one puts their hands on my wife…!"

"I'm not your wife, not really!"

"Ring on yer finger says ya are."

"It's no worse than what I've seen you do to some of your girls!" Instantly, she regretted the words, as a look she had never seen before crossed his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I…"

"Lou?"

Turning, and lifting her gaze upwards, she caught sight of her mother on the clinic balcony above. "Mother…" she recovered herself quickly. "I hope you're comfortable?"

"Oh, very much so. Surprisingly so." Flora smiled. "I assume you're planning on…turning in for the night too?"

"Yes, of course. It's been a long day."

"I'd like us to talk more tomorrow, Lou, just you and I. Mother to daughter. Might we do that?"

"Of course, yes. There are some nice walks around town that I could show you."

"I'd like that," Flora nodded. "Goodnight then, darling…Mr Lawson."

"Ya can call me Hank, ma'am."

"Hank," Flora said, her tone measured, "very well. Goodnight…Hank."

Eloise waited as her mother made her way back across the balcony and inside the bedroom before turning back to face him. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded I…"

"Told ya before, ya don't work fer me, so ya don't gotta be concernin' yerself with how I treat those that do. Don't want me to defend ya when some man hurts ya, then that's fine. Won't bother in future."

"Hank…"

But before she could say more, he turned on his heel and strode away from her, back inside the saloon.