Crescent Smile ~ John Marston Story

✽.✫☽ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟿 ☾✫.✽

(Unedited)
Word count: 4633
{Listen while you read?~I recommend  War Isn't Murder by Jesse Welles and I also recommend Guiding Light by The White Buffalo and Roll The Bones by Shakey Graves}

☽✫.✽✦✽.»»--⍟--««.✽✦✽.✫☾

Dixie found herself in Blackwater, the sun shining brightly overhead as she rode alongside her father. He had come over from Armadillo for the day, eager to visit and share a drink in the bustling town that was rapidly expanding. The streets were alive with activity, merchants calling out their wares and families enjoying the early spring weather.

As they rode through the town square, Dixie glanced around, taking in the new storefronts and the lively atmosphere. Blackwater had changed so much in recent years, evolving from a humble settlement into a vibrant hub of trade and community. It was exciting, yet it felt strange to her, as if the town was moving on without her.

"Look at this place," her father said, his voice tinged with pride. "It's really coming together. I remember when it was just a handful of buildings. Now, it feels like it's alive."

"Yeah, it does," Dixie replied, forcing a smile. She appreciated her father's enthusiasm, but her thoughts were still tangled in the aftermath of the bear incident and the events that had transpired at Beecher's Hope. She found it hard to shake the feeling that something was brewing beneath the surface, both in her life and in the lives of those she cared about.

They settled into the booth, and soon their drinks arrived-a couple of frothy beers for her father and a sweet whiskey sour for Dixie. Leigh raised his glass in a toast. "To new beginnings," he said with a grin, and Dixie clinked her glass against his, forcing a smile as she took a sip.

As the drinks flowed, the lively atmosphere of the saloon began to ease the tension in her chest. Her father regaled her with stories of the latest escapades he'd encountered as the 'New Austin Law,' tales of outlaws and narrow escapes that made her heart race. He was well-respected, a figure who commanded attention, and Dixie felt a swell of pride as she listened.

"Just the other week," Leigh began, leaning in with excitement, "I had to chase down a gang of thieves who thought they could make a getaway on horseback. They didn't know who they were dealing with!" His eyes sparkled as he animatedly described the chase, his hands gesticulating wildly.

Dixie chuckled, momentarily forgetting her worries, lost in her father's enthusiasm. But as they finished their drinks, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his words about her potential were still hanging in the air, waiting for her to address them.

After a while, Leigh checked the time and stood up, brushing off his trousers. "Come on, let's get you something special," he said, winking at her. "I think it's time you had a new saddle, one that matches your spirit."

Dixie felt a rush of surprise. "Dad, you don't have to do that," she protested, even as a flicker of excitement ignited within her. "It's just a saddle..."

"Nonsense," he replied, waving her off as they made their way outside. The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the town. "You've been through a lot lately, and I know you think everyone forgot about your birthday. But I didn't. Consider this my way of celebrating you."

As they mounted their horses, Dixie felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. Part of her wanted to argue that a saddle wasn't necessary, but another part-one that had been buried under the weight of responsibilities-was thrilled at the thought of having something new and beautiful just for her.

The ride to the stable was filled with a comfortable silence, the rhythmic sound of hooves on dirt soothing her racing thoughts. As they approached the stable, Dixie's heart raced with anticipation. She had always loved spending time around horses, and the idea of picking out a new saddle made her feel like a child again, filled with wonder.