Fates of the Fateless

Ch. 3 But Second Impressions are What Really Matter

"Remind me of yer name again deary?" Asked Bessie, the sweet older blonde woman.

Your response is utterly pathetic and small, exhaustion was evident in your voice.

"Oh of course! What a lovely name it is. Suits such a pretty young woman such as you." The two of you wound up sharing a wagon alongside her mutually charming husband Hosea. Both incredibly chatty and total jokesters. The second you set foot on their wagon she swooped in to chat you up. "Believe me, I'm the one named after a Heifer! Ahahah!" she had such a strong and jovial chuckle she'd let out at her wise cracks, slapping her leg and throwing her head back every time she did.

"Well, I've never seen a bovine as lovely as you Bess." Hosea piped up to the left of his wife, both seated on the wooden stage in front leading the line of wagons to what Dutch had called a semi-permanent residence. "In fact, your appetite for alfalfa is what made me fall for ya." he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips before grinning up at her.

"Well, I fell in love with yer money." She brought his hand to her lips this time. "And you ain't all that ugly to look at either." She gave him a dazzling smile that reached her eyes. Holding each other's gazes with a fit of giggles before a kiss was shared between the couple.

"You got a sweetheart dear?" Bessie called back to you, eyes forward and hand interlocked with Hosea's.

Your eyes roll before you can think not to. "No..."

"Really?!" she turned to look at you, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised considerably. "Lovely thing like you should have suitors lined up for miles!" she had longer lashes on her top lids compared to her bottom ones, fanning out at the ends extending the length of her eye.

"How long until we get to... Where was it again?" diverging the conversation to anything other than dating. Especially the same damn conversation you've already had with every old woman you've encountered trying to save their grandsons love life.

"Surssparilla peak. Nice little patch of rock overlooking the local town. Got a good water source too." Your pretty sure Hosea meant to say sarsaparilla, "should be there by tomorrow afternoon. Morning if we're lucky." You guessed by the time everyone had packed up and set out after your little fiasco it was well into the afternoon that you actually departed.

"Gonna be a long ride then..." you rested your chin on your arms that in turn rested on your knees. Gaze wandering out the back toward the wagon following you while Bessie and Hosea got caught up in their own little conversation. You recognized the two drivers as the same men you had stowed away with on your escape. The dirty blonde had the reins while the dark-haired kid sat appearing to be ranting about something. His face a scowl, hunched over with one hand on his right thigh while his left took to emphasizing whatever he was saying every once and a while. He looked pretty young, if you had to guess he must have been 18-19 years old. His hair was greasy looking and long, reaching to his shoulders. You imagined if you touched it your fingers would come away with oil. He was a lanky kid, skinny and small. At least compared to his companion.

Your eyes then drifted to the absolute beast of a man that sat next to him. He was intimidating, even when just sitting. You could make out two little scars on his chin, in contrast with the darker stubble that was just long enough to be considered a beard. Your eyes traveled the expanse of his face the best you could from 15 feet away, another scar over his nose. Slowing coming to meet his eyes, shaded by his hat. You felt yourself stiffen. Thick eyebrows furrowed slightly; his gaze focused on you. Still just as intense. Studying you in such a way you began to feel self-conscious, only managing to hold his stare for so long before you broke, switching your attention to the surrounding desert terrain that passed slowly.