Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Lessons Learned

sunday, fraying. with the girl what rises.

The outlaws are up the second dawn breaks over the horizon, and you rise with them, but waking comes easier, this morning. The water from the lake must've seeped into cracks you hadn't known you had, washed them so clean they sparkled and squeaked, and now, you rise with the sun—peer out to that sliver of pale, august light that'll soon become a drop of gold and breathe in slow and deep through your nose.

The warmth coursing through your veins presses at your heels firm enough to start nipping, and you turn your attention to the outlaws' camp and get to work folding and tying up the bedroll Elijah lent you. Cyrus was wanting to extend his, but it was better he have at least something to lie on, on account of his leg, so Elijah stepped in and offered to be the one what'd spend the night on the ground. Said he didn't mind—slept in worst places, and that, you do believe.

You walk over to Elijah, his bedroll tucked under your arm, and he's got his back to you because he's busy buckling the straps of his saddle, so you touch him lightly on the arm and call his name. He grunts some and then turns his head, and it's your face what his eyes settle on first before falling to the bedroll.

"Go on 'n tuck it behind the saddle," he says and then inclines his head. His eyes are still sharp, sharp and bright, and though stubble's started darkening his jaw and cheeks, his mustache is neat and trimmed—must've dealt with all that grooming sometime last night.

You do as he says, and then set about lending a hand where you can. The lake's clear and still, and as the sky lightens, soft clouds of pale fog start rising slow off the water's surface. They roll across the lake, stretch like lazy cats on a bed of blue sky, and the cool breeze that pushes them finds your face and caresses your cheeks and brow.

The homestead waits there, just across the lake. A puffy cloud of fog tries to hide it, but then the breeze comes along and pushes that mischievous puff of mist right along, and the homestead remains as it was, quiet and still.

"C'mon," Elijah calls.

You turn at the sound of his voice. In your hands sit Cyrus's old bandages—laid them out to dry last night after changing and cleaning them—so now you roll them up and pack them away, and then Elijah helps you up onto his horse. The beast shakes its head some and snorts as you mount, but Elijah just gives it a pat on the neck before climbing on after you.

Cyrus is peering back up at the mountains and frowning, but he turns his head when Elijah calls to him, and then he clicks his teeth and gives his horse a light kick in the side—one what doesn't make him wince too badly. Elijah follows the lake, and Cyrus rides right alongside, but he doesn't say much; no one does—not even Elijah. There's a heaviness to the quiet morning air, but perhaps it's nothing. Perhaps it's little save that lingering haze what follows after waking early.

The fog continues to roll, and as you follow the lake's periphery, the homestead is swallowed by the trees. The evergreens stand tall and proud, and their sweeping branches brim with needles as green as emeralds. Birds twitter in those young boughs, and squirrels leap from branch to branch and chatter back and forth amongst themselves.

Through the trees, the homestead appears again some several yards off, but the evergreens and their spring boughs block most of it, and you can make out only a log cabin and shed, and the simple wooden fence which surrounds them.

Elijah slows his horse before stopping the animal completely, and Cyrus does the same. The younger brother is glaring firm at the homestead, and his brow's furrowed like there's something sour chewing at him, but he sets his jaw and turns his head so he's looking off at the trees, and Elijah lets out a deep, short sigh; fixes his hat; and then dismounts smooth and easy. Once he's on the ground, he moves to help you down, so you brace your hands against the tops of his shoulders, and like all the times before, he picks you up and sets you down.