The Seer And The Stetson

Down By The River Side

Ellie regarded the fire with a flat stare. Her thoughts seemingly disconnected from the world around her, allowing River's wandering gaze the chance to settle upon her uninterrupted. 

He watched her in appreciative silence wondering what churned within. What she must think of him after hearing what he'd done to Jolene and after everything that's happened? What would she think once she knew about his life with Clyde as a outlaw? He'd already somehow earned her contempt and risked further degrading her already low opinion. 

He failed to understand why it should matter that Ellie need possess a high opinion of him. But, not having it bothered him. He wanted it with a desire he couldn't explain nor express. But, like most things he had a hard time dealing with, he avoided it.

He glanced to his left, Maskwa and Jolene were huddled together, conversing in hushed whispers. Lord, only knew what kind of strange things she was filling his mind with. He almost felt sorry for Maskwa. Whatever strange magic compelled him to follow Jolene seemed more of a curse. 

Everyday he rode with her, his life was needlessly at risk. She'd become more brazen since they'd last met. Reckless in thought and in action. Living a sort of devil-may-care life, teasing and tempting death. The law was just as unkind to women outlaws as they were to men. He hoped her brash style of living didn't get her killed. 

River scoffed. Then stood to fill two bowls with stew from the pot hanging over the flames. He carefully steadied the plates in his hand as he returned to the wagon. 

Abigail's head shot up from her resting place next to Hershal. "River," She said softly, reaching for the plate he handed to her. "Thank you, Son. My own daughter seems to forget us sometimes, but you never do." 

"Don't be too hard on her, Mrs. Sweeten. She's got a lot going through her mind." He squatted next to her. He pulled Mr. Sweeten to sit as he slowly fed him from another bowl. Hershal offered him a weak smile.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden to you, River. Although you had no reason to, you been good to us," Abigail studied his face as he moved through the wagon. Tension visible through out his body. His shoulders were slumped and his head bowed.

Abigail knew and respected the code of the west. You never ask a man about his past. You take him for who he is. It was obvious enough that something weighed on him. She just hoped he didn't let it drag him down. 

She cleared her throat before speaking, "I know it seem like your life ain't ever gon be right, but the Lord sees you. And although we can't repay you, I know he will." Mrs. Sweeten's smile shone in the dark. 

She'd been coming out of her melancholy lately. She was more interested in the things happening around her. River credited the change to the improvement in Mr. Sweeten's condition. He'd begun to follow simple commands and only yesterday moved his right hand. 

River was never a man strong on faith but he thanked God for it nonetheless. 

"I don't know that he sees me anymore, Ma'am. I no longer got the right to ask." He stated carefully averting his gaze. "We ain't too far from the plot of land on Mr. Sweeten's map. When we get there I'll see to it you two is set up real nice." 

She reached across and patted his hand, "Thank you, River, for everything. You a good man. Have faith in that at least." 

River blushed deeply before returning his attention to his task. When he'd finished he left the wagon only to find Ellie standing right outside waiting for him. 

"What do you think you're doin'?" She asked with an air of suspicion and a pinched expression. 

River chuckled nervously, "I have no idea what you mean, Ellie." He took the empty plates and headed toward a shallow stream a short distance from the camp. He heard Ellie's foot steps stomping after him. She could never let well enough alone.

"I don't know what your game, Collins, but I know bullshit when I see it," She started. 

River drew in a sharp breath before releasing it, 'What the hell put a bee in her bonnet now?'

"What is it now Eleanor? I only fed your folks. Nothing ever pleases you does it?" He said, dropping the plates, turning sharply towards her.

"Nothing you do," She sneered. 

River pulled the hat off his head and shoved a hand through his hair. "I don't know why the hell I try. Nor why I give a shit about what you think of me, Ellie, but I ain't your enemy. We been on the trail for weeks going on months!" He shouted, "You should know me well enough to know that by now!" 

He stepped closer in the dark. His shoulders squared and tensed as he towered over her. 

She folded her arms tightly over her chest, "'Scuse me if I bleat when I speak it's because I know when I'm bein' fuckin' fleeced." 

River's stared at her, shaking his head, "How the hell can you say a thing like that?"

Ellie's hands dropped to her hips, "I don't know maybe you makin' yer own seedy plans and eyein' our land for yourself! You seemed keen on lettin' them white folks talk to me and treat me however the fuck they liked. You didn't say a Goddamn thing when that man-"

"Ellie!" He screamed stepping closer grabbing her arm just below the shoulder and pulling her to him, "I don't know if you noticed but there was a town full of those bigots against just the two of us. I was trying to keep us all alive! So what that asshole threw a few slurs. It ain't nothing you ain't heard before." 

"That's just it, Collins!" She pushed against his chest but he didn't let her go. "That's what you don't get! Why I gotta be treated like that and just be expected to accept it!" Her face flushed red.

It never occurred to him how hurtful or hard it would be to hear such words. How it might chip away at her soul one syllable at a time. He felt shame for thinking she'd just shake it off and move on. She always seemed so strong. He never gave a thought to how it would make her feel.

After a moment, he said in a softer voice, "Ellie, I'm sorry." He gently smoothed windblown curls from her face. 

Ellie tensed briefly at his touch but relaxed again beneath his grasp as he continued, "I could only think of keeping you safe. And the only way I could do that was to play along to buy us time to get out of there."

She knew he was right but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Her lips pressed together in silence but her eyes never left him. 

His hair was a ruffled mess and he indulged in his nervous habit of biting on his lip as he waited for her response. Normally, she'd jeer at him then walk away but somehow, in the fluorescent light of the moon, he looked more handsome, more human than she'd ever seen him. And she couldn't or did she want to move. She couldn't tell which.

She dragged in a breath and shifted uncomfortably under his hooded gaze. 'When did he get this close?', she thought. His eyes were honeyed fire. The intensity causing her heart to quicken its pace, her mouth to run dry, a strange fluttering in her stomach. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as he whispered, "Ellie..." 

Then he kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without deciding to but simply because he could do nothing else.  He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him and he wanted it back. 

"River!" Jolene shouted and they quickly stumbled apart. "It's time to make tracks."

River turned quickly, leaving Ellie standing alone next to the stream. Her fingers floated up to her lips. She stood baffled, wondering if that all really just happened.