To the Ends of the West

4. Going Ghost

For a week, Lottie drifted through her days like a ghost. She went to school in silence, her once-bright eyes dull and expressionless. At home, she sewed beside her mother without a word, speaking only when absolutely necessary. She avoided everyone, even Morgan, whose piercing gaze she felt every time she passed him on her walks through town. Once, he'd tried to speak to her, but she kept her head down and walked on, tears filling her eyes as she fought to hold back the ache of longing in her heart.

Another week passed in this silent haze. She'd spotted Morgan from a distance, the weight of his gaze like a shadow following her through the dusty streets. Then, one day after school, he was waiting for her, leaning casually against the fence. She tried to pass him, but he fell into step beside her, his voice soft and unbothered.

"Did I tell you about the birds I saw over by the river? Bright blue ones, flashing through the trees," he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "They're quick, but if you're patient, you get to see them close."

Lottie kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You need to leave me alone, Morgan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't be seen with you. Please, just go away."

He stopped, grabbing her shoulders gently and turning her to face him. His eyes searched hers, his brow furrowed in concern. "Lottie, what's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"

She felt her resolve waver as her gaze met his. His face was etched with worry, and the softness in his voice brought every emotion she'd been trying to bury rushing back. Tears pricked at her eyes, and finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. She told him everything—her father's anger, the slap, the way her parents demanded she be the "perfect lady" and not seen with boys, especially not someone like him.

When she finished, Morgan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand," he said softly, his voice tight. "You do what you have to." He turned to go but looked back just as he was about to disappear around the corner. "But don't forget what I told you, Lottie," he called. "I'll get you out of here."

Lottie's heart twisted as he walked away, his words echoing in her mind. I'll get you out of here. She walked back to her house with tears streaming down her face, her heart heavy with loss and longing.

That evening, she skipped supper, claiming they'd offered late snacks at the schoolhouse. Her mother's face softened, and she even nodded approvingly.

"Oh, you're finally becoming a lady," she said, smiling with satisfaction. "Losing that boy has done you good."

The words stung, cutting deep, and Lottie forced herself to nod. She climbed the stairs to her room, barely holding herself together. Once inside, she locked the door, fighting the urge to scream as she let the grief pour out of her.

She lit the small lamp on her bedside table and sat by its soft glow, losing herself in a book until the sun dipped below the horizon. The words blurred as her mind drifted to thoughts of Morgan, of the way he looked at her, the spark of humor in his eyes, the kindness in his voice. When she could no longer keep her eyes open, she slipped into her nightgown and crawled into bed, curling under the blankets as sobs wracked her body.

A sudden thunk jolted her from her tears. Something had flown through her open window, landing with a soft thud on the floor beside her bed. She sat up, wiping her eyes, her heart pounding as she peered over the edge of the bed.

There, on the floor, lay a small rock tied with a bit of string. She picked it up, her fingers trembling, and looked out the window, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the familiar figure standing in the shadows below.

It was Morgan.

She leaned out the window, her breath catching as she stared down at him. He flashed her a grin, tipping his hat in greeting.

"Couldn't stay away, I guess," he whispered up to her, his voice carrying easily in the quiet night.

Lottie's heart surged with relief, and for the first time in weeks, a real smile tugged at her lips.

Lottie's breath caught as she leaned out the window, eyes wide as she looked down at Morgan. "Morgan, you can't be here," she hissed. "If my parents find out—"

He shrugged, his grin unfazed. "Well, I have to talk to you, so I ain't leaving until we do."

She tightened her grip on the window frame, shaking her head. "I can't just leave the house. They'll hear me," she whispered urgently. "You have to go."

Morgan tipped his head back, hands on his hips, glancing around. "Do y'all have a ladder anywhere?"

"No," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "And I'm not coming down even if you did."

Morgan grinned up at her, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "We'll see about that."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, and Lottie watched in bewilderment as he made his way to the barn. She sighed, climbing back into bed, hoping he'd give up and leave. But only a few moments later, a soft thud echoed outside her window.

She shot up and peered out again, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Morgan climbing halfway up a ladder propped against the side of the house. He glanced up, meeting her eyes with a determined expression.

"You're comin' down here, even if I have to carry you down myself," he called softly, his voice a mix of charm and challenge.

Lottie bit her lip, rolling her eyes but already feeling her resolve give way. She sighed, muttering to herself. "Fine. Just... give me a minute," she whispered down.

Morgan nodded, waiting patiently as she turned back into her room, trying to gather herself. Her heart was racing, and she sifted through her wardrobe, finally pulling out a simple dress she usually wore only around the house. It was plain, nowhere near as frilly or fancy as her usual attire. But something about the idea of Morgan seeing her as she really was made her pause. She took a breath, summoning the courage she needed, and stepped over to the window.

Morgan was waiting as she leaned out, and without another word, she climbed down, gripping the ladder tightly until her feet hit the ground. She turned to face him, brushing herself off.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks warm as she looked down. "Didn't have time to pick anything nice. I just grabbed the first thing I found."

He shook his head, his gaze softening as he took her in. "You're beautiful, Lottie," he murmured, his voice warm and sincere. "And I don't care what you're wearing, as long as you're comfortable."

Her heart leapt at his words, and she managed a small smile, feeling a strange new warmth spreading through her. For the first time, it wasn't the frills or the lace—it was just her, and somehow, that was enough.

I'm sorry, this one's kind of short :/

Much love, Jen <3