8 November

Beaver Falls wasn't unlike Colorado Springs. Another small, mid-western town with a store, saloon, barbers' shop and church. The buildings were more spread out, however, and the surrounding land flatter with the main draw to the town being a waterfall situated about half a mile outside. During the summer, Hank told her, it drew people from all over who liked to swim in the pool underneath, picnic beside it or just watch the water as it flowed seemingly unending.

The wagon ride had been bumpy and cold and though she had tried to tell him on numerous occasions that she neither wanted nor needed another horse, he had insisted on buying one for her.

"Told ya before that ya don't gotta come with me," he'd said the previous evening. "Stay here, mind the saloon and I'll be back by nightfall with a new mare fer ya."

"No, I'll come," she had replied, partly because she hadn't relished spending the day in Olivia's company and partly because she wasn't sure she trusted him not to come home with some unmanageable steed that she couldn't take to. Not that she was potentially going to have long to take to any horse, given the time of year fast approaching and with it, a decision.

She'd written back to her mother accepting the offer to visit for Thanksgiving and Flora had replied saying how happy she would be to see them both. Eloise couldn't help but think, however, that there was a tone to her mother's words that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something was amiss, but she wasn't quite sure what.

"What ya thinkin' about?" Hank asked, as they made their way down to the field where the sale was taking place.

"Nothing," she replied, though her mind was very much on the expression on Olivia's face when they had left earlier that morning. The smug look of satisfaction had returned tenfold in the last week no doubt because Hank had returned to her bed, a fact that she hadn't been able to miss. No matter how many times she told herself that whose bed he chose to sleep in was none of her business, she couldn't help but think about the two of them together. More than that, she often found herself wondering why he had never so much as even asked to sleep in hers.

"Because he's your friend, you made an agreement and he respects that," she had told her reflection in the mirror, "even if he did say that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen."

There had been moments when she had replayed those words over and over in her mind, remembering the look in his eyes and the way he had taken hold of her to impart them, gently yet firmly. For the briefest of moments, she had considered that there might have been genuine meaning behind them and that he might have cared something for her. But she had quickly pushed those thoughts away, confident as she was that, even despite the recent news of her pregnancy, Hank's heart still lay with Myra.

A large crowd had gathered for the sale and there were innumerable horses lining the field waiting to be sold. Parking the wagon, they began making their way down amongst them, Hank randomly pointing to one after the other, none of whom appealed to her, until she caught sight of a smaller filly, so unusual in markings that it made her pause. The horse was red in colour, her neck and legs darker than her back and belly and when she turned her head, her gaze could almost be described as sweet.

"What about this one?" she asked, moving over towards where the horse was tethered.

"What about it?" Hank replied dubiously. "Ain't never seen no horse lookin' like that before."

"She's a strawberry roan," a woman standing proprietorially nearby said. "Her name's Cherry."

"She's beautiful," Eloise said, stroking the horse's velvet nose.

"Don't look like she got much speed about her."

"She can go as fast as you need her to, Mister," the woman replied.

"I'm not interested in going fast. I'd rather she got me safely from one place to the other."

"Well, she'll certainly do that."

Eloise turned to look at him. "What do you think?"

"I think ya could git a better horse than this one."

"But I like this one," she argued, laughing as Cherry nudged her gently.

"Thought ya didn't want one at all."

"And I think she likes me too," she continued, ignoring his comment. "Please? If you don't want to buy her, I could always use my own…"

"Alright fine," he acquiesced. "If this is the one ya want…how much?"

"Fifty bucks."

"For a horse that looks like that? Forty."

"You're getting her fully saddled too. Forty-five."

He glanced back at her, and she smiled encouragingly. "Fine, forty-five it is." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of notes, peeled some off and handed them to the woman who smiled and passed Eloise the reins.

"Must be outta my damn mind buying a horse that looks like that," Hank said as they made their way back towards the wagon, leading Cherry behind. "I ain't the only one whose gonna think she looks funny neither."

"Just because she's a different colour to most horses? Surely that makes her special and unique, rather than something to be laughed at."

"Well, yer the one whose gonna have to ride her, so as long as ya don't care about it…"

"I don't."

"Fine. Git on her."

She paused and looked at him, "What?"

"Git on her. Might as well try her out 'fore we git her all the way home."

"Oh…but I thought you wanted to look at some of the other horses…"

"I do, but I wanna see ya ride her first. Come on," he urged, "ain't nobody watchin'."

"But I thought we could just wait until…"

"Ellie…" he moved in closer to her, "Ain't just forked out forty-five bucks fer ya to stand and look at her. Now git on before I put ya on her myself."

"Fine." Turning inwards, she lifted her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself up onto Cherry's back. The horse whickered softly as she did so and pawed the ground. "See, she's fine."

"Ride her round then."

Unsure, yet not wanting to displease him, she gently nudged Cherry forwards. The horse responded easily and, moments later, they were circling the wagon in a gentle trot. With each step, Eloise felt her confidence returning, though by the time they had completed several circuits, her back had started to twinge.

"Gonna let her run?"

"No," she replied, pulling to a halt and sliding down. "My back's sore and I think that's enough for a first ride."

"What ya most afraid of, fallin' off or getting' attached to her?" Hank asked, tying the horse to the back of the wagon.

"Neither," she replied, though she could tell he remained unconvinced.

An hour or so later, Hank having perused and discarded all other remaining horses, and some supplies having been purchased at the general store, they turned the wagon for home, Cherry trotting along seemingly happily behind them.

"Got somethin' I wanted ya to look at," Hank said suddenly, breaking into the companionable silence that had descended between them.

"What?"

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her. "Figured I'd wait til later but, might as well let ya see it now."

Opening it, she immediately recognised his handwriting, and a quick skim of the content revealed that it was a letter to his grandmother. In it he talked about meeting her, his new friend, how they had visited Zack at school and how he hoped his son would be able to come to town for Christmas. Though short, she could feel the warmth and sentiment ebbing from the page and a lump formed in her throat at the effort he had made. "It's…it's a really good letter. I'm sorry, I know I said I would help you with it…"

"Things bin busy. Took me best part of three hours but, well, wanted to try on my own." He smiled crookedly at her. "How many words I mis-spell?"

"Not many, not many at all." She refolded the paper and handed it carefully back to him. "Your grandmother will love it."

"Hope so. Maybes ya could help me finish it tonight?"

He looked at her hopefully and all she could do was smile in return. "Of course, I'd be happy to."

He smiled back at her before frowning slightly as her body suddenly shivered. "Cold?"

"I've felt warmer."

"Move closer then. No need to be sittin' all the way over there." She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then slid along the seat towards him, pressing herself against him and wincing as they rode over a rocky patch of road. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Just my back."

"Still playin' up?"

"A little."

"Best let me at ya with those oils Michaela gave ya then." She felt a blush creep over her cheeks and turned her face downwards. "Can trade. Ya help me with my letter and I'll…"

He broke off as a piercing cry suddenly filled the air and, to her shock, five riders burst from between the trees and galloped towards them, their strange appearance leading her to only one conclusion as to their identity.

"Injuns," Hank said tightly, pulling back on the reins as they surrounded the wagon, his right hand moving to rest on top of his gun. "Whatever ya do, don't move."

She looked at each rider in turn, taking in their clothing and the paint on their faces, not to mention that which was smeared on their horses. Three of them were holding shotguns, the other two bows and arrows and she felt her stomach drop with fear. For all the talk around town about Indians, the stories she had heard, the warnings Hank had given her, she had never truly believed she would ever come face to face with one.

One of them rode forwards, raising the shotgun to them and started shouting in a language that she couldn't understand. "What is he saying?" she whispered.

"Ain't got no clue, just git yer hands up."

Following his lead, she raised her hands to shoulder height as the Indian shouted at them again and then gestured to the ground. When neither of them moved, he rode further forwards, his voice increasing in pitch and intensity.

"Follow me," Hank said, "and stay close."

She waited as he rose and then jumped down from the wagon, reaching back to offer her his hand. Accepting it, she dropped down beside him and the Indian gestured for them to move away. One of the others dismounted from his horse and jumped inside, pulling back the tarpaulin and examining what was underneath, whilst a third encircled Cherry, looking at her from every angle.

"Reckon they just wanna see what we got."

"But we don't have anything."

"Just…don't say nothin' and if I tell ya to run, ya run."

"Run? Run where?"

"Into them trees, fast as ya can, but only if I tell ya to."

"But I wouldn't just leave you…"

"Ya just do what I goddamn tell ya to, alright?" He glared at her. "There's a time fer ya to stand up to me and a time fer ya to keep quiet."

"Alright," she replied, her heart beginning to thump harder in her chest as two of the Indians moved towards them, one of them approaching her closely, almost to the point of touching, his gaze boring into hers. Incrementally, she could sense Hank moving, trying to carefully manoeuvre his way between them, but before anything further could happen, the first Indian let out a shout, causing the others to hurry back to their horses, mount and ride away.

Her breath left her body in one fluid motion and the world around her shifted slightly on its axis as she felt her blood roaring in her ears. Her vision clouded momentarily, then cleared as Hank stepped in front of her, his mouth moving, making words that she couldn't hear.

"Ellie…Ellie!" he took hold of her, shaking her gently and everything suddenly slammed back into focus. "Ellie!"

"I'm…I'm fine," she heard herself say. "I'm sorry, for a moment there I just…"

"C'mon, we gotta git outta here 'fore they come back." Hand in his, she allowed him to propel her back over and into the wagon.

"Why didn't they take anything?" she asked, instinctively pressing herself against him again as he flicked the reins and urged Hurricane forwards. "Or worse?"

"Don't know," he replied grimly, "but we gotta get back and warn folks."

XXXX

"Dog Soldiers?" Jake frowned almost disbelievingly. "They ain't troubled us for a while now. Fact is, I figured they were all dead. You sure they weren't just regular Injuns?"

"I'm tellin' ya they were Dog Soldiers," Hank said, helping Eloise out of the wagon as a small crowd gathered around them. "Could tell by how they'd got themselves all painted up, five of 'em."

"What did they want?"

"Just wanted to look in the wagon. Thought they might take this so-called horse but they never."

"Why didn't you shoot them?"

"Cause there were five of 'em and one of me?"

"What about Miss Crack Shot over here?" Jake gestured to Eloise.

"So that would have made two of us against five of 'em. Not exactly the best odds. S'ides, meant to be protectin' ladies not offerin' 'em up as quarry. So…what we gonna do about it?"

"About what?" Michaela asked.

"Ain't ya bin listenin'? The Dog Soldiers are back and out to cause trouble."

"But they didn't do anything."

"Doesn't mean they ain't gonna. Could be plannin' an attack."

"You don't know that, Hank," Michaela argued. "And causing everyone to worry about it unnecessarily is…"

"Unnecessarily?" he glared at her. "Don't tell me ya forgot what happened last time, Michaela. Buildin's gettin' burned, people gettin' hurt…hell they took ya without so much as a please or thank you."

"I'm hardly likely to forget that…"

"Then we gotta make sure we're ready if they decide to come again. Figured the Mayor might be in favour of that." He met Jake's gaze, and the other man nodded slowly.

"Perhaps we oughta have a meeting of the town council."

"To what end?" Michaela asked. "To cause worry and anxiety…"

"To let folks know what's goin' on. To let them see we ain't gonna just sit around letting Injuns terrorise this town again," Jake replied. "I'm calling a meeting, seven o'clock at the church." He paused as the crowd started to disperse. "What kind of horse is that, anyway?"

"A strawberry roan," Eloise spoke up. "Her name's Cherry."

"Don't look at me," Hank said on Jake's scornful expression.

"Well, I am looking at you, giving I'm guessing you paid for her."

"So what?"

"So what?" Jake shook his head. "You're blind, my friend, blind."

"What did he mean by that?" Eloise asked, as Jake turned back towards the barber shop.

"Guess he figures I must be blind as to how that horse looks."

Jake paused again and turned back, "That ain't what I meant…and he knows it."

"Mind yer damn business, Jake!" he heard himself say, hating the supercilious smile that spread across the other man's face before he walked away, wishing he was close enough to punch hm again, for all the good it would ultimately do. Turning back, he met Eloise's questioning gaze and frowned. "Ain't gonna leave that horse standin' there, are ya? Best git her round to the livery."

"Ain't never seen a horse like that before," Robert E said, as Eloise led Cherry inside. "Sure looks different."

"Two of ya gonna git on like a house on fire then, ain't ya?" Hank said, causing the other man to lift a wry eyebrow in response. "C'mon," he tugged gently on Eloise's coat. "Looks like rain." The two of them stepped back out into the street, making their way back towards the saloon, whereupon he could have sworn that she walked closer to him than she ever had before.

"Were you afraid?" she asked suddenly.

"Of what?"

"Those Indians."

"Nope."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"Bin around 'em enough times not to be scared of 'em. Yer a different story though."

"What do you mean?"

"Alright fer ya to be scared, seein' as ya ain't never seen one before."

"I was scared," she said, "but I would have felt much worse if you hadn't been there with me."

"That's why I told ya not to go traipsin' around in the woods by yerself. They'd come across ya on yer own, likelihood is ya'd have bin robbed, raped and killed."

"A cheerful thought." She paused at the saloon door and turned to face him. "Of all the things I thought might worry me about living in a place like this, I have to confess that Indian attacks didn't really feature. I suppose my concerns were more about food and sanitation."

"Make ya think twice about stayin'?"

She hesitated, meeting his gaze and causing his breath to catch inexplicably in his throat. "I don't know," she eventually replied. "I'm…confused…"

"Confused about what?"

"So many things. I...I want…"

"Want what?"

"I want to be happy."

"And are ya? Happy, I mean…here?"

"Yes…and no."

He paused, holding his breath waiting for her to elaborate, hoping she might say something to help kindle the ever so tiny, pinprick of hope lying inside him, anything that could feed the desire he held that, somewhere inside of herself, she might care even a little for him beyond that of being his friend.

Instead of replying however, she let out a long sigh and wrinkled her face in discomfort. "I certainly ain't happy with this damn back!" Almost immediately, her expression dropped. "I mean, I'm not happy with how my back's still hurting."

He couldn't help but smile at her use, not only of local vernacular, but of profanity and pushed his earlier thoughts to one side. "Best not let yer folks hear ya talk like that when we visit 'em. Gonna think I've completely ruined ya for polite society."

"Right now, I don't care," she replied, pausing to meet his gaze again. "Hank…"

"Yeah?"

"Those…magic hands of yours."

"What about 'em?"

"On one level it's completely improper but, on another…well, you are my husband and quite frankly I think if I did ask one of the girls to help, they would no doubt simply find some way of turning into a subject for ridicule…"

"Want me to rub them oils onto yer back fer ya?"

"If you don't mind?"

It was the closest he was ever likely to get to her, and he could only imagine Jake's face if he ever found out such opportunity had been refused. "Sure ya can trust me?"

"Sure you can behave like a gentleman?"

Her smile was playful, teasing yet trusting and whilst part of him wanted to fall to his knees in front of her and tell her would do anything she asked of him, he elected to keep it simple.

"If ya can behave like a lady, I can behave like a gentleman."