I've struggled a little bit of late, not because I don't know where this is going or how it's going to end, because I do, but just with the limitations that I placed on myself by starting the story with a flash-forward prologue. So, I went back to the prologue and made some very minor amendments to it, just to give myself a little bit more scope for Hank and Ellie's relationship before we get to their Christmas parting of the ways.

12 November

"It's as cold as a nun's promise out here."

"Yeah, well, this was yer idea."

"Only after you convinced me we were poised to be overrun by Injuns." Jake shivered in the night air and stamped his feet. "Can think of far better places to be than stood out here."

"Like where, drinkin' alone in yer shop?"

"I could be drinking in your saloon."

"I could be drinkin' in there too, but instead I'm out here with ya doin' our civic duty." Hank lit up a Cheroot and blew smoke into the air. "Keepin' the town safe."

"Four days and nothing. Way you had it telt, they were gonna be raiding us any minute."

"Would ya rather I'd said nothin' and have the town taken by surprise?"

"Course not."

"Then shut up and stop complainin'."

He looked out into the inky black stillness of the night, not wanting to admit that Jake might have something of a point. There had been no sign of any Indians, Dog Soldiers or otherwise, coming near the town, leading him to believe that perhaps some of the trepidation he'd had was misplaced. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"How long we gotta keep this up?"

"Tonight?"

"No, not just tonight."

"Well, yer the mayor, can call it off any time."

"Reckon we'd need another vote from the town council and I'm gonna look pretty damn stupid going back and asking them to vote to stop the patrols after making such a case for them."

"Give it another few days then."

"Hmm…"

"Hope you two aren't feeling the cold."

Hank turned suddenly in time to see Eloise making her way across the street towards them and, as with every time he looked on her now, felt his stomach drop. Something had irrevocably changed between them since that night, and it was proving more and more difficult for him to be around her. Every time he looked at her, every time they spoke, every time she smiled or brushed against him, he was filled with an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and confess everything, tell her what he felt for her, kiss her…he felt himself harden and urgently fought the sensation down.

"What ya doin' out here?"

She moved over to him, face upturned with a smile. "I brought you some hot coffee and a blanket, in case the wind picks up."

"Mighty obliged," he replied, unable to stop himself smiling at her in return.

"Guess I need to get me a fake wife," Jake grumbled, and Eloise turned her gaze towards him.

"Don't worry Jake, I brought coffee and a blanket for you too. Wouldn't want to come out and find our mayor frozen to the spot."

"Thanks," he replied, taking them from her. "Guess you got your uses after all."

"I didn't realise you'd been talking about how useless I am."

"Not said nothin' like that," Hank said, shooting Jake a look, the other man narrowing his eyes in response.

"No sign of any Indians then," she said, looking out across the horizon.

"Nope."

"Well, I suppose better safe than sorry."

"Guess the two of you could practice more…drawing," Jake said, looking between them. "Reckon Hank could use a woman stamping on his foot again."

"Don't start," Hank replied.

"How is the shooting going anyways, Eloise?"

"Well, I can pretty much hit every tin can with the first shot now."

"And the…uh…garden?"

"Starting to bloom," she replied with a smile. "It certainly looks a lot better than it did before anyway." She turned back to face her husband. "How long are you going to be out here?"

He shrugged, "Give it another hour or so maybe. Why?"

"Just wondered." She pulled her shawl tighter around herself. "Well, if you don't need me to help with any potential shooting…"

"Oh, we never said that," Jake replied quickly. "Guess we could use every man, or woman, we could get in that situation, right Hank?"

He chose not to look at the other man again, focusing his gaze instead on Eloise, whose expression was innocent, yet mixed with a sprinkle of mischief. "Git inside," he said softly, his insides liquefying as she smiled again and then turned away from him, crossing the street back towards the saloon, his eyes tracking her every movement.

"When are you gonna tell her?"

"Tell who what?"

"When are you gonna tell Eloise you're in love with her?"

He paused, Cheroot halfway to mouth, before responding, blindsided by Jake's perception. "Don't know what yer talkin' about."

"Come on Hank," Jake said. "Can see it in your eyes when you look at her, when you talk to her, when you talk about her…hell, you've given her free board at the saloon, taught her to ride, taught her to shoot, married her…"

"She ain't my type."

"Oh, and what is your type? Whores that don't talk back?"

"Shut up."

"Come on, we're friends. I know you." Jake paused. "How long you felt this way about her?"

He wanted to keep lying, knowing full well that Jake was the last person that anyone should divulge a secret to, but he also couldn't help but think that expressing how he felt might, in some way, go towards helping him deal with it. Perhaps the other man might have some idea how best to control his feelings. "Ain't got a clue," he breathed out. "All I know is, takin' everythin' I got not to say somethin'…do somethin'."

"If I was you, I'd go in there right now and bed her."

"Well, I ain't gonna do that."

"Why not? At the end of the day she's your wife, marriage of convenience or not. You got a legal right to her and if you want her so badly…take her."

He shook his head at the basic level of Jake's understanding, at the fact that he seemingly couldn't conceive of there being more to love between a man and a woman than the simple physical act. "Ain't about that."

"Seems to me it's a helluva lot about that. Every man wants to feel a woman lying underneath him."

"Course yer talkin' from a great wealth of experience, ain't ya?" he retorted. "How many times ya bin in love, Jake?"

"How many times you been in love? Clarice…Myra…"

"That was different. They were different."

"Different how?" He said nothing. "Different how, Hank?"

"Cause I didn't feel half fer them what I feel fer her!" He paused and let out another long breath. "Think about her every goddamn minute…bout what it would be like to be with her, have her look at me like she cares about me, be the kind of man she deserves. I know she's destined to be with someone more like her, someone who has money, someone who don't live in a backwater town like this, someone who can give her everythin' in life but…"

"But what?" Jake asked quietly.

"Never used to bother me none bout Clarice or Myra workin'…bein' with other men. But Ellie…only man she oughta be with is me, only bed she oughta be in is mine…thought of her bein' with anybody else, lovin' anybody else…kills me inside."

"So, I ask again…when are you gonna tell her?"

He shook his head, "Can't."

"Why not?"

"Cause we made a deal."

"Seems to me like things have changed."

"Said I'd marry her to stop her havin' to marry that Lewis fella…give her time to make up her mind what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. S'pose to get the marriage annulled and go our separate ways by Christmas and I ain't gonna do nothin' to change that."

"Why not?"

"Ya really think I wanna see the look in her eyes when I tell her I love her, and she tells me she don't feel the same? Have her back away from me when I touch her? Hear her tell me no when I ask her to stay with me?" The very thought made his throat start to close up. "Best thing all round is if she goes on her merry way and…and we can stay friends. Maybes I could write to her, and she could write to me."

"And what if she decides to stay in town? What if she ends up courting someone else? Marrying someone else? You gonna be able to live with yourself seeing her every day, knowing you had her and let her go?"

"She ain't gonna stay in town."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do, cause I'm gonna do everythin' I can to convince her to go." He met the other man's gaze. "She don't belong here. She don't belong with me."

Jake said nothing for a long moment. "I don't profess to know her that well, not the way you do but…you telling me that you don't see it?"

"See what?"

"The way she looks at you?"

He paused and looked down at the ground, "I see the way she looks at me."

"So?"

"So, she's a woman…they got desires too, same as men. Already figured out in my head that if I were to try and bed her, might not take much persuadin', but I don't want that."

"You don't want that?"

"I don't just want that." He sighed. "Easiest thing in the world to bed her, Jake. Be great for all of five minutes…"

"Give yourself some credit."

"…then what? She still walks away probably hatin' herself and me. Couldn't bear that." He dropped the Cheroot into the dirt and stubbed it out with his boot. "Ain't got much longer with her. Just gotta try and…and keep things the way they are."

"You're going to her folks for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah."

"How the hell are you gonna get through that?"

"Don't know," he replied, looking back over in the direction of the saloon. "Just gonna have to try my darndest to do the right thing."

XXXX

It was late by the time he returned, and though she could have retired to bed after the last customer had left, she had elected to flit around the bar, needlessly cleaning and tidying, waiting for him to come through the door. Although she knew he was only down the street, and that he was with Jake, trying to sleep before she knew he was safe held little appeal.

"It's my turn to clean up," Olivia had said, when Eloise had told her she could retire early.

"It's fine, I'll do it."

"Why?"

"Because I've said I'll do it."

The other woman had folded her arms across her chest and shot her a contemptuous look. "Ain't going to make him come to your bed."

She hadn't quite known how to respond to that. A profanity had sat on her lips, just waiting to be pushed through, but she was savvy enough to realise that it was most likely precisely what Olivia wanted and the last thing she intended to do was give the other woman the satisfaction of knowing she had affected her.

"Goodnight Olivia," was all she had chosen to say, and Olivia had stormed off to her bedroom, leaving her thankfully alone with her own thoughts. So much had changed in such a short space of time and there were feelings, emotions, wants and desires flowing around inside of her that she now earthly idea what to do with.

Finally, the saloon door opened, and he came inside, bringing with him a shot of cold air that made her shiver. He seemed surprised to find her there and his gaze flitted around the room. "Where's Olivia?"

"I told her she could go to bed. I said I'd clear up."

"Why?"

"Well…I just wanted to make sure that you came back."

"Figured I'd have run off with Jake?" He slipped his coat off and tossed it on a nearby table, before heading to the bar and pouring himself a drink.

"No, of course not. Jake didn't look too happy to be out in the cold, though."

"Not exactly my idea of a fun evenin' neither but, like I told him, night patrols were his idea." He gestured to her with the bottle. "Want one?"

"Why not?" she replied, moving over to stand beside him, draining the glass he passed to her in one shot. "Make sure and not tell my parents how much I drink."

"Guess ya'll just have to watch yerself whilst we're there."

"I guess so." She paused. "What about you?"

"What about me?" He met her gaze. "Worried bout how I'm gonna behave in yer parents' home?"

"No…"

"Ain't gonna do nothin' to embarrass ya, Ellie, promise ya that. Just gonna have to keep up the pretence fer 'em."

"Yes…" she thought back on her mother's last correspondence. "I felt as though there was something Mother wasn't telling me when she last wrote to me. I don't know what, but…something. I keep trying to think of all the things it could be but…I can't settle on one."

He refilled her glass. "Guess all ya can do is wait til she tells ya what it is…if it is anythin'. Might all be in yer head."

"No…no I know her too well. There's something." She drained the second glass and then looked at him again, the heat from the alcohol burning her throat. "I'm glad you'll be there with me. It's funny but…I feel so much better knowing that I won't be going back there alone." He held her gaze and she felt the butterflies dance in her stomach again, the ones that had permanently taken up residence there since he had touched her, when she had realised that he physically craved her and she him. "The annulment…" the words slid out before she could stop them.

"What about it?"

"I know you said that…non-consummation…was a ground for annulment." He nodded. "Are there any other grounds?"

"I ain't no lawyer but, s'pose I could guess some."

"Such as?"

He shrugged, "If one of us had lied bout who we were…maybe if ya felt like I'd forced ya…" he broke off. "Why ya askin'?"

"I was just…wondering," she looked at the ground. "I suppose we picked the obvious one…the easiest one."

He moved ever so slightly closer to her. "What ya tryin' to say?"

"I'm not sure. I know that, in order to get an annulment, we can't…that is to say…"

"Make love?"

Her groin contracted violently at the words, but she managed to raise her eyes once more to his. "Is that what you call it?"

"What else would ya call it?"

"I suppose I thought you might call it…something else. That it might…mean…something else to you."

"Can mean all sorts of things dependin' on who's involved," he said softly. "Ain't gonna call it that if it's business. Whores don't make love to customers and customers don't make love to whores."

"What do they do then?"

A small smile played around the corners of his mouth. "Got a few words in mind, but ain't sure they're meant for a lady's ear."

"No, I suppose not." She took a breath, terrified to say what was on her mind and yet desperate to give some voice to it. "Hank…I feel as though things have been different between us since the other night. In my room…when you said that you had to stop, before you couldn't, did you mean…?" She broke off, finding her vocabulary suddenly wanting.

"What do ya think I meant?"

"I think…I think you meant that if you didn't stop yourself, you would have made love to me. And I'm afraid…"

"That ya wouldn't have bin able to stop me?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm afraid that I wouldn't have wanted to stop you."

The air in the room vanished. All of a sudden it seemed as though there was no oxygen, that she couldn't breathe, that all she could do was look into his eyes and listen to the thunderclap sound of her heart pounding in her ears. It felt so wrong to want to know what it would feel like for him to touch her and yet…in that moment…it was all she could think about.

He turned suddenly away from her, "Ain't somethin' we oughta be talkin' about."

"Why not?"

"Why do ya think? Start talkin' about it, bout how it might go, how it might be, how it might feel…fore ya know it, it's happenin' and I don't want that fer ya."

"You don't want it for me?"

"Don't wanna make it harder fer ya. Don't want ya leavin' here with regrets."

"Regrets…" the word died in the air between them. He meant that she might regret allowing him into her bed, whereas she couldn't help but feel that she might regret not.

"Whole point of gettin' an annulment is so as ya can start fresh, pretend like this marriage never happened. So ya never need to explain to any other man that ya've bin married before, don't gotta consider yerself a divorcee. We do anythin' to change that and…" he turned back to face her, his expression hard. "Ya'd just be one more in a long line fer me if I take ya to bed but…ya've never bin with a man, and a woman like ya should only ever be with the man that's…well that's gonna marry her. Properly marry her," he added on her look. "And we both know that man ain't gonna be me."

"I see," she said quietly, feeling her insides crumble at the stark truth of his words. If she had ever, for one moment, considered that he might have felt something for her beyond the physical, she knew the truth now. "I feel…foolish…"

"Why?"

"Well for…for…throwing myself at a man who…"

"Ain't done nothin' of the sort," he said softly. "Fact that ya think this conversation could even be considered throwin' yerself at anybody just shows ya fer the lady ya are. One day, yer gonna find a man whose worthy of ya, Ellie. Someone who can love ya and treat ya right and give ya everythin ya want and need and when ya do…yer gonna be grateful that ya didn't throw it all away on…me."

She felt her throat start to close up, choked with emotion that she didn't understand or know how to express. All she could do was nod and move away from him, turn and hurry out of the bar and down the corridor back to her room. Safe behind the locked door, she sank down on the bed, hot tears running down her face. She had to stop this. She had to stop wanting someone who clearly didn't want her, at least not in the same way. She'd known his true feelings for so long, why had she persisted in trying to convince herself that there was more there than a physical desire?

Rolling over onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, well aware that he was right. When she did eventually find that great love, the man she was supposed to be with, marry, share a bed and a home with…she would be grateful to never have to explain having lain with a man who didn't love her in a saloon in a Midwest town.