"Yep—bring her over here," Lorena instructed, gesturing toward a newly cleared space, where a few fir trees had been felled in the weeks gone by. The area, roughly ten feet from the corral and a dozen yards from the main ranch, offered a promising spot for her latest endeavor. The scent of fresh timber mingled with the earthy aroma of the surrounding landscape, heightening her anticipation for what was to come. A soft thud of hooves reverberated through the air as the horses came to a halt, the cowboys stamped out their cigarettes and set down bottles of beer, unloading the wood from the wagon with lazy efficiency. Each piece was sorted by length and width, ensuring there would be no confusion when it came time to assemble the mail-to-order building.
Albert Cakes scribbled his signature over an invoice whilst his men hauled a second wagon into the clearing, assisting Lorena's men unloading the wagon before the evening shrank into twilight and possible journey through Tall Trees on the horizon. Cakes Hardwood and Timber had seen a recent rise in the purchase of mail-to-order homesteads and buildings. Whilst there was an evident Industrial Evolution happening across the country, many American's opted for farming, carrying on family traditions spanning generations. Towns formed around the booming cattle trade as railroad tycoon's like Leviticus Cornwall had extended lines to likes of Tumbleweed, connecting to areas in New Hanover and Lemoyne.
Albert pressed his company stamp in red ink across the main proceedings of the invoice, carefully removing it to avoid smudging the ink. He handed the invoice over to Lorena, scribbling her signature—L. J. Milner. Despite being estranged for well over a year, Lorena fought back the lump in her throat and the sting of tears at the sight of her signature. She couldn't quite discern whether her emotional turmoil stemmed from lack of rest or the disposition ordinary to her femininity, but the gnawing anxiety about her lack of communication with her ex-betrothed loomed larger than ever. Lorena half-expected Ron to thunder across the valley, disheveled and wild; a six-shooter drawn and aimed squarely at her for daring to pursue the legal proceedings. Yet deep down, she knew he was aware of this inevitability, the slow unraveling of their relationship—a realisation that left her feeling both heavy-hearted and resigned, as if the threads of their once-promising future had frayed beyond repair. Clasping the invoice book shut, Lorena put a halt to her self-pity. There was much to be done to keep this saloon build on a tight three week schedule, and she was determined to not let her feelings grow cumbersome.
"Thank you for your business, Mrs. Milner," Albert remarked, folding the invoice with care, almost crafting it into an envelope.
"I look forward to hearing about the grand opening." Lorena smiled back at Albert, noting the way his cheeks flushed a deeper shade from the early summer heat. Big Valley rivaled Hennigans Stead for its sweltering summers, even nestled as it was between the protective embrace of the mountains. The sun-drenched days often felt unrelenting, but the cool evenings brought a refreshing chill that was a welcome reprieve, a gentle reminder of the shifting seasons. With that thought, Lorena steeled her resolve, ready to embrace the challenges ahead.
"Have you decided on a name?" Mr. Cakes quizzed through a raised eyebrow. Lorena hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of her tongue like butterflies refusing to land.
"I have a few ideas," she said, holding back the scattered fragments of thought—a patchwork of scribbled notes scattered on her dresser. Each one danced just out of reach as she envisioned Strawberry's first saloon.
The Cowboys and Timbermen unloaded the final stacks of wood from the wagons, preparing the horses for the journey back to Blackwater. Albert passed a set of blueprints and detailed instructions to Larson, stressing their importance in avoiding misaligned walls and uneven foundations. It took every ounce of Larson's restraint not to snap at Mr. Cakes' condescending yet harmless advice, nevertheless flashing a polite smile. Lorena lay a firm pat on the side one of the wagons, watching as they broke away into the dirt path leading out of Big Valley.
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Dear Lorena • Arthur Morgan x OC
FanfictionA new sense of freedom, a scorned heart and feelings kindled in the most desperate of circumstances. Whilst most women lived in the shadows of their husbands, Lorena June Milner had no choice but to step into the sun-becoming the forewoman of a ranc...