Miss Morgan

Twenty-Eight

November 1898
-Ivy-

I wake up and my vision adjusts to the sunlight pouring in the window, making my migraine shoot through my left temple. My stomach quivers as I fight to keep from throwing up. Oh my god, I drank too much. Sweat drenches my back and coats my inner thighs.

I move to sit up and a pain stings between my legs. Then heavy arm locks me into place. Oh god, I'm going to vomit. I fight the arm off and look over see Mac sleeping peacefully at my side.

Oh shit. What the fuck did I do?

I squirm to get out of his grip and he stirs awake. He looks at me with groggy eyes. He looks so handsome like this, vulnerable in a way I've never seen. And very naked. Oh god.

"You alright?" He questions in his low, husky voice. He pulls his arm off me, sitting up and rubbing his face.

"I'm gonna puke." I hold my mouth and jump out of bed, throwing on my jeans and my button down shirt, now missing all its buttons. I don't have time to question it or find a new shirt. I throw it on and wrap it around my body as best I can then step into my boots on my way out the door.

"Ivy?" Mac calls after me.

I sprint down the stairs, ignoring the knowing glances from the bartender and the few patrons already getting drunk this early in the morning.

I manage to run out the door, onto the sidewalk and behind the saloon before spewing the contents of my stomach into the grass.

When I'm finally just dry heaving, a big warm coat gets draped over my back. "Here." Mac mutters quietly.

"Thanks."

I push my arms into the sleeves and button up the coat. It's almost too warm.

Mac hands me his lit cigarette. "You alright?" He mutters.

"I just wanna get back to camp." I answer, climbing up into my saddle on Sparrow's back and trying not to fall over the other side.

Mac follows my lead and mounts up onto his horse. I try to get Sparrow to gallop back to camp, but immediately have to slow back to a walk so I can vomit again over the side.

Mac stays by my side, riding quietly next to me the entire way back to camp. He thinks I'm mad, as he should.

"Did we...?" I finally ask quietly.

"What? Did we fuck? Yeah we did." He raises an eyebrow. "You wanted it."

I sigh.

"You weren't wrong, Ivy. You need to put yourself first more. You were happy last night, even if you don't remember it. You were happier than I've seen you in years."

"Maybe so, but..." I rub my face. My head is pounding.

"But?"

"I dunno, Mac. It's wrong..." I admit.

"Wrong how, Ivy?" Mac glares at me. "I've been tryin' to be with ya for years now. I know I ain't a good man, but I can be good to you if you just give me a damn chance."

"I'm sorry." I rub my temples. "I can't think right now. I need to see Swanson."

"Alright." He grumbles and thankfully decides to leave it.

We make it back to camp and I walk through the gang to snag a bottle of Swanson's magic hangover cure. I chug it down as John nervously steps over to me.

"You're talking again?" He asks.

"Seems that way." I groan, walking away from him to grab a cup of coffee. It burns my lip when I try to drink it and it only pisses me off more.