The bar was empty, but untidy. Glasses still adorned some of the tables, the chairs sat at haphazard angles, the floor was unswept and she could detect a frisson of tension in the air, despite there being no-one within but him. In the middle of it all he sat, head bowed, an empty whisky bottle in front of him.

Her heart pounded at the very sight of him, and she moved slowly forwards into the bar, concerned and frightened in equal measure. "Hank?"

He paused, as though registering her voice for the first time before responding. "What?"

"I thought I heard glass breaking."

"Ya did," he replied, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "I threw them at the wall."

She took in the paleness of his complexion contrasted with the redness of his eyes and suddenly realised to her horror that he had been crying, something that she had almost never considered him capable of doing. "Why?"

"Cause that's what drunk men do, Ellie. They git drunk and they smash things."

"I've seen you drunk before and you've never…"

"Well, I did this time! And I can do it again fer ya to bear witness!" Leaping from his chair and lifting another glass from the adjoining table, he hurled it towards the wall, causing it to shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Stop…please…!"

"Ya don't gotta worry. Tomorrow ya'll be gone, and ya won't need to see this anymore. Won't need to see how Hank Lawson deals with pain. How he always deals with pain. When Clarice died, got drunk for a week and bedded every other whore I had. When Myra left me...well, already told ya that tale. Everybody leaves me, one way or another and ya ain't no different." Sinking back down into the chair, he put his head in his hands.

Reason told her to leave him be, allow him to work through whatever anger was causing him to behave in this way, step back from any potential danger that he might pose to her. But, having had the thought, she immediately pushed it away. She knew him. Knew he would never hurt her and that, on the contrary, clearly, he was the one hurting. She found herself moving towards him, carefully avoiding the remnants of his destruction, and crouching by his side.

Gingerly, she placed her hand on his arm, and he started, his head jerking up, his gaze meeting hers again. There was so much pain in it that she felt part of her heart splinter. A single thought raced through her mind, though she had no idea what it meant or what she was supposed to do.

He needs me.

"Hank…"

"Don't."

"Tell me what's wrong." She heard her voice, soothing in its quality, the way she had spoken to her brothers at times when they had been upset. "Please."

"Yer what's wrong, Ellie. Ya've done this to me."

"What?" she frowned.

He held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes reddening again, and she waited, suspended in time, only for him to finally shake his head. "It's nothin'."

"It can't be nothing."

"It is," he said, getting to his feet and moving away from her.

"It can't be!" she insisted, rising from the floor. "You can't just say that I've done something to make you this upset and then not tell me what it is!"

"Leave it."

"No."

"Said leave it, Ellie." His voice was low, dangerous almost.

"I won't. I can't." He said nothing. "Hank. Hank!"

"I love ya!" He rounded on her. "Ain't it obvious?!"

She froze.

"That's what ya've done to me, Ellie. Came here and…and made me fall fer ya. Think about ya all the goddamn time, 'bout all the things we've done together since ya've been here; ridin', shootin', readin', writin'…don't wanna think 'bout what it's gonna be like when ya leave me. Can't bear the idea of ya not bein' here with me every day…"

He broke off and shook his head.

"Told ya that Myra said once I didn't know what love was and she was right. She was right cause I didn't care 'bout her sleepin' with the customers. Forced her to do it even when she didn't want to. Same with Clarice, even when she was pregnant with Zack if they were payin' and didn't mind. Told ya that I reckoned she had other men, and I didn't do nothin' about it cause I didn't really care who else had her."

He met her gaze again, his emotion so raw and naked that she felt herself holding her breath.

"But I love ya. Love ya more than anythin' in this world and the thought of another man with his hands on ya…ain't got no idea how that makes me feel. Makes me wanna kill anyone who comes within ten feet of ya. Makes me wanna lock ya up so that no other man even thinks he's got so much as a cat's chance in hell of bein' with ya. Only man who oughta be touchin' ya is me. Only man who oughta have ya is me. Oughta be my wife lock, stock and barrel even though I know that ya'd never look at me in that way, never feel fer me what I feel fer ya. Yer a lady after all and a lady deserves a gentleman, someone who wears nice suits, makes a good livin' and goes to church on Sundays not…not someone like me." He shrugged helplessly. "Can't give ya nothin'. Can't give ya nothin' 'cept all of me. That's all I gotta give, Ellie. That and this saloon. This is all I got, and it ain't worth nothin' to a woman like ya cause ya'll never love me how I need ya to."

For a moment, she couldn't speak and, when she could, found herself tripping over her words. "I don't…I don't understand…"

"Ain't ya bin listenin'?"

"Yes…yes, I've been listening but…" she fought to rationalise what he had said in her brain. "You can't love me. You…"

"Can and I do."

"No…you love Myra."

He frowned, "Myra?"

"You told me that you loved her. In San Francisco, you told me…"

"Told ya that cause I didn't want ya to give me the one thing ya had knowin' that you could never give me anythin' more. I didn't wanna see the look in yer eyes when I told ya how I felt, and ya told me ya didn't feel nothin' fer me. Wanted to tell ya so many damn times but I didn't wanna hear ya say that I could never measure up to what ya need, what ya deserve…"

"Then…you don't love her?"

"Goddamn it woman, there ain't no comparison! Can't ya see that?!"

It was all she had ever wanted to hear and yet part of her still couldn't believe that what he was telling her was the truth. This man, this man that she loved, loved her, and yet, heartbreakingly didn't think himself worthy of her.

Her own eyes filled with tears. "Oh…Hank…"

"Don't gotta pity me," he turned away. "Don't want that from ya. Don't want nothin'…can't have nothin'…"

"I don't pity you."

"No?"

"No." She took a breath, already feeling her voice start to shake before she had even spoken the words. "No, I don't pity you. I love you."

He froze with his back to her, failed to move for the longest of moments so that she wasn't sure whether he had heard her or, if he had, whether he'd understood.

"Hank…look at me."

Slowly, he turned back to face her, his expression a myriad of confusion, hope and longing that called out to her very soul.

"I love you."

"Ya don't mean that."

"I do, I swear I do…"

He shook his head, "No, Ellie…"

"I've never cared for any man the way I care for you. I've cherished every moment that we've spent together, and I've thought about you endlessly. I've wished that you loved me the way I loved you, been desperate for you to hold me in your arms and tell me that. But…I never thought that I could compete with Myra. I would have let you claim me in San Francisco because I thought…I thought that it would be enough for me to have had that from you but…but I know now it never would have been. If I'd known that you didn't love her…if I'd known that…" she let out a breath. "If you want me then I want you."

He shook his head again. "Ya don't…ya don't want me."

"I do!"

"Ya got a chance to go back to a much better life, Ellie. The kind of life I can't give ya. Ya got a family waitin' fer ya, a nice home, a business…"

"None of that means anything to me if I don't have you. I don't want any of that, Hank, I want you!" She felt the tears start to slide down her face and though she wanted to run to him, was desperate to run to him, instead found herself rooted to the spot. "You might not think that you're a good man, but I know that you are. Please…" she begged. "If you want me, I'm yours, please…"

He hesitated. "I need ya, Ellie. I need all of ya and…"

"You have me."

"We do this, and there ain't no turnin' back." He swallowed hard, "You don't git to leave me."

"I don't want to leave you. I swear I'll never leave you."

"I won't let ya go."

"I wouldn't want you to…please…"

Suddenly, he crossed the space between them and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of soap and cigarettes that she had grown to cherish so much and wrapped her arms around him, almost fearful that he might suddenly disappear, that she might awaken and realise it had all been a dream. For a moment, they simply stood, locked together so tightly that she could feel his heart thudding against her cheek. This was what she had craved. This feeling of being held, wanted, loved by the man she wanted and loved too. Then his hands were running over her waist, fingers threading through her hair, pulling her back and forcing her head up so that she had no option but to look into his eyes and see the desire that filled them.

"Keep lookin' at me like that," he said finally, "and I ain't gonna be able to control myself."

"I don't want you to control yourself," she breathed. "I want you to finish what we started in San Francisco. I want you to love me like a husband should a wife and…" Her words were forced into oblivion as his mouth claimed hers, warm and gentle, his tongue nudging until she parted her lips and allowed it to slip inside and meet her own. The warmest of feelings flooded her as he kissed her like she had never been kissed before, still holding her tightly to him, drinking her in as though indulging in something long denied.

As she started to feel herself slipping into blissful oblivion, he suddenly lifted her up into his arms, just as he had done once before and began manoeuvring his way out of the bar, boots crunching over the forgotten broken glass. Instinctively, she curled her legs around his waist as he traversed along the corridor and pushed open the door to his room, dropping her carefully back down onto her feet and pressing her gently back against the wall.

If she had been asked to describe what followed, she wasn't sure that she would have been able to find adequate words. It was a flurry of hands and mouths and the tearing of fabric as they strove to be as close to one another as possible, hot flesh meeting hot flesh, every sense within her driven to the point of blissful madness until she lay in the bed under him and he gently prised her thighs apart with his knee, settling himself there, an unfamiliar hardness pressing against her inner thigh.

"This ain't real…" he murmured tenderly, looking down at her. "Y'ain't mine."

"I'm yours," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers against his lips. "I'm yours and you're mine. And I want you…so very badly."

"God, yer beautiful…" dropping his mouth to hers, he kissed her gently again then began moving down her neck, across her chest, claiming each breast in turn, whilst one hand slid softly over her stomach then moved lower, easily slipping down through her hair and between her thighs.

For the story that her mother had told her about married love, she could never have imagined what it would feel like to be touched so intimately by a man. He needed little direction, fingers skimming lightly as he parted her folds, the pressure increasing as he clearly found that which he was seeking, causing her to cry out and instinctively arch towards him.

Lifting his mouth from her body, he met her gaze. "Yer wet."

For a moment, she wasn't sure if he was ridiculing her. "Am…am I supposed to be?"

"Be offended if ya weren't."

"What does that mean?"

"Means ya want me." His fingers rolled slowly around her again…and again…and again and then…then he was opening her, slipping inside her, and she felt her eyes roll back in her head and her body lift from the bed, only for him to slide up and over her, his weight anchoring her to the mattress. "Look at me."

"I…" she tried to focus, but it was almost impossible.

"Look at me, Ellie."

With great difficulty she tried to follow his order, her vision hazy. If only he would stop…if he stopped, she would be able to do what he asked but…she didn't want him to stop.

"Like it when I touch ya there?"

"Yes…" she breathed, "yes…"

"Want ya to breathe in when I tell ya to."

"What?"

"Breathe in when I tell ya to. Best way to do it."

"Best way to…to do…what?"

"Ya trust me?" he asked, brushing his lips against hers again.

"Yes…I trust you…"

"Alright then…now…"

She breathed in as instructed and all of a sudden there was a hard sensation between her thighs as he pushed inside her. She felt the barrier of her maidenhood tear, causing her to cry out. Quickly he covered her mouth with his own, claiming her pain then moving to pull her legs around his waist. "It's alright. Only gonna hurt for a minute." Gently, he eased back, then pushed forward again, repeating the action until her pained protests died away and instead became ragged gasps of pleasure as her body accepted him. "Damn…ya feel good…"

"Should I…what should I do…?"

"Don't gotta do nothin'," he replied, pressing himself harder against her, mouth moving to her neck, breath warm against her skin. "Just gotta enjoy it."

Enjoying it felt like an understatement. She'd never experienced anything like what she was experiencing at that moment. The weight of him against her, his mouth on her skin, his…inside her…and then…then his hand slid between them, back to the juncture of her thighs and beyond, once more encircling her to the point of such exquisite pleasure that she feared she might lose herself entirely.

His movements became more urgent, and a new sensation suddenly began to spread from within her. A heat that made her begin to shake and squirm against him. An all-encompassing excitement that flooded every part of her. He pressed down harder, preventing her from moving and she heard his name rip from her throat in a tone that she had never heard before, nor recognised as her own.

"Let go…" his mouth was so close to her ear that it felt as though the words were reverberating around her brain. "Let go, Ellie…"

For not the first time and, undoubtedly, not for the last, she did exactly as he asked.

21 December

Morning broke as it had never broken before for Hank.

Despite the chill in the air, he felt warmer than he could ever remember. Eloise lay curled against him, her body rising and falling in gentle sleep, almost obscured by the bedclothes he had wrapped around both of them once the lovemaking had eventually come to an end. When he looked down at her, he felt an exquisite, wonderful pain in his chest, one mixed with a heavy dose of disbelief.

She loved him. She was his. This woman, this beautiful woman, this lady who could have any man in the world that she wanted, had chosen him. Nobody had ever chosen him before, nobody. And she would never leave him. She had sworn that she would never leave him.

Sliding down in the bed so that he was lying parallel to her, he cupped her face with his hand and gently kissed her forehead, eyelids, nose and cheeks, before covering her mouth with his, causing her to moan softly before parting her lips to accept him, her limbs reaching out for him, arms and legs entwining with his to pull him against her.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming," she murmured.

"Ain't dreamin'," he replied, kissing slowly over her chin and down her throat. "Ya feel alright?"

"I feel wonderful."

"Might hurt a bit, down there, and ya might have some bleedin' too." Her eyes opened and met his gaze. "Want ya to know that it's normal."

She reached out and stroked his face gently, fingers thereafter finding their way into his hair. "Have you taken many women's maidenhoods?"

"Let's just say, ya ain't bin the first but, long as ya'll have me, ya'll be the last." He paused, the question so obvious. "Will ya marry me?"

"We're already married, remember?"

"Don't mean like that. Not…not for convenience but, for real. Like, in the church."

"You want to get married in the church?" she raised her eyebrows. "I thought God had never done anything for you. Isn't that what you said?"

"Reckon he's done somethin' fer me now. Brought ya to me." He ran his thumb gently over her lips. "I love ya, Ellie. Want everyone else to know how much. Want ya with me, always. Wanna grow old with ya and…well…maybe even give Zack a brother or sister…if that's what ya want."

She smiled and kissed him. "It's everything I could have ever wanted. I love you too, Hank and, yes, I'll marry you."

Grinning, he rolled her underneath him, ignoring her feeble protestations, and made love to her again, slower and more deliberate than before, but with no less passion, until she lay trembling against him once more, her body sensitive to his touch.

"I could never have imagined…that it would be like this," she said, once she had recovered herself. "Is it like this every time? I mean…"

"No," he said hurriedly, before she could finish her thought. "Ain't never felt like this before cause…I ain't ever bin with a woman I've loved like I love ya. Fact is, reckon I ain't lettin' ya leave this bed today, maybe not even tomorrow neither."

"Well, as wonderful and tempting as that sounds, I have a stagecoach to catch."

He froze from where he had been about to kiss her again and pulled back, praying that he would see humour in her expression. "What ya talkin' 'bout?"

"The stage. It leaves in less than an hour."

"So?"

"So, if I don't catch it then I won't make my connection in Denver."

A cold panic started at the base of his spine. "Ya don't need to make no connection in Denver. Y'ain't goin' nowhere."

"Hank…"

"No," he rose hurriedly from the bed. "Said ya wouldn't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you, but…I still need to go to San Francisco."

"What the hell for?!"

She sighed and sat up, pulling the covers around herself. "Because I need to speak to my parents. I need to tell them that I'm not coming back."

"Then send them a damn telegram!"

"I can't! How can I? How could I possibly explain all of this in a telegram? Hank, they're expecting both of us to show up on the train in a week's time to start a whole new life in California. I owe it to them to at least explain in person why that can't happen now. I have to tell them the whole story from start to finish."

"No," he shook his head. "No, ya can't go Ellie, ya can't…"

"I'll be back in a few weeks…"

"No, ya'll git there and they'll say somethin' to ya and ya'll change yer mind, and ya'll never come back."

"Hank…"

"Ya'll realise that ya made a mistake and then, then ya'll wire me and tell me that it's over and yer gonna lodge the affidavit and I'll never see ya again." A sudden mist descended over his vision, an anger and a panic. Pain shot through his hand, and he realised that he had punched the wall.

Seconds later she was beside him, her arms around him, her naked form pressed against his, the very sensation of her slowing his heartbeat and calming him. Lifting her up into his arms, he carried her back over to the bed and laid her down, winding himself around her once more, his head laid on her chest.

"I promise you that I will be back," she said, her voice trembling over the words. "I couldn't leave you now even if I wanted to. This is just a visit, I swear. There is nothing that they could say to me, nothing, that would make me change how I feel about you or the future I want with you. Hank…" he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "You have to trust me."

"Trust ya more than I've ever trusted anyone."

"Then let me do this."

He sighed heavily then slid himself up her body to kiss her again. "Goddamn you, woman," he murmured. "Goddamn you…"

XXXX

"I oughta be goin' with ya."

"I can handle my parents."

"Ain't talkin' 'bout them," Hank said, trailing her out of the saloon and into the street. "Talkin' 'bout bein' with ya to keep ya safe."

Eloise handed her luggage to the stagecoach driver and then turned back to face him. "I managed to get myself here relatively unscathed and I can get myself back again. Besides, I have a pistol about my skirts and a mean right foot."

"Ya listen to me," he said sternly. "Don't want ya gettin' involved in any trouble unless ya got no option, unless yer right in the middle of it. Other than that, ya turn tail and run like hell."

"Alright…"

"I mean it, Ellie," he slid his arms around her waist. "Can't bear the thought of losin' ya, not now."

"I promise that I won't do anything reckless," she smiled. "I'm more concerned as to how I'm going to survive for the next few weeks without you. Seems cruel to have introduced me to the delights of married love only for me to now be denied it."

"Yer choice to go," he said simply.

"I know."

"Don't be gettin' too friendly with any other men on your travels," he raised his eyebrows at her. "Yer mine now. Don't be forgettin' that."

"As if I could, or would want to," she smiled. "Don't you be seeking comfort from any of the girls whilst I'm gone. As of right now, our marriage vows mean something more than they ever did before, even if we do intend to make them all over again."

He pulled her tightly to him. "Ain't nobody fer me but ya now."

Sliding her arms around his neck, she allowed him to kiss her, long and deep, filled with so much love and feeling, but also bittersweet in its quality.

"Eloise?"

They quickly broke apart and, turning, she saw Michaela walking towards them, a surprised look on her face.

"Oh, good morning, Michaela," she greeted the other woman.

"You're…uh…still leaving?"

"Yes, but only temporarily." She pressed her face briefly into his shoulder. "I'll be back."

"Better be," he said softly.

"Well, that's wonderful news," Michaela said, looking between them. "I'm very happy for both of you and I can imagine everyone else in town will be too, particularly Loren."

The driver chose that particular moment to declare that the stage was about to leave and so, turning, she allowed Hank to help her in whereupon she took a seat by the window and reached out for his hand.

"Ya make sure ya wire me soon as ya git there. Need to know yer alright."

"I will," she replied, feeling tears spring into her eyes. "The time will go past quickly, I'm sure of it."

Leaning inside, he kissed her again, his forehead resting gently against hers. "I love ya."

"I love you too," she whispered, releasing him just as the horses started up and the coach began to rumble away. For a brief moment, as she watched him grow smaller in the distance, she considered shouting to the driver, telling him to stop and let her out, that she had changed her mind. But she remained silent. She had to do this, had to tell her parents everything in person.

And then…then she could come home again.