To the Ends of the West

6. Esther

The morning after her night with Morgan, Lottie awoke to a bittersweet ache that settled heavily on her chest. She hugged her knees to her chest, blinking up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his absence yet clinging to a growing hope—a glimmer of certainty that he loved her and would come back one day. His words replayed in her mind like a mantra, and for the first time, she felt as if her dreams had become real possibilities, things she could reach if she tried hard enough. Morgan wanted her to chase them, to be unafraid. With that thought, she resolved to change her life in Tumbleweed, little by little, as he'd encouraged.

In the days that followed, Lottie pushed herself to break free from the reserved shell she'd once inhabited. At school, she raised her hand, asked questions, and tried to laugh with the other girls. She soon found herself drawn to a girl named Esther, who was not well-off by any means and shared her same restlessness—a spark that longed to burst out beyond Tumbleweed's dusty horizon. Esther had a fierce gaze and a laugh that rang out loud enough to turn heads, and despite their differences, Lottie was comforted by her frankness. It wasn't long before they began to talk daily, and after classes, they'd walk together through the dry streets, sharing their hopes and half-whispered dreams for a future that lay far beyond the sleepy town.

On one of their walks, Esther spoke dreamily of Saint Denis, of finding a man with pockets deep enough to take her from here and never look back. "I want city lights, Lottie. Not this dead town with dust in every corner," she said, her gaze fixed far into the distance as if she could already see her future self in silks and fine jewels, escaping Tumbleweed's shadow. Lottie couldn't help but smile at her friend's fire, even if her own dream was the complete opposite.

"I don't want the bustle," Lottie admitted softly, her cheeks warming. "I want... peace. A little place with the man I love. He's wild, and if I could just tame him, keep him close, I'd want nothing more. Maybe a small farm, some cows and chickens to raise, children who grow up happy."

Esther laughed, nudging Lottie's arm. "It's funny, you wanting calm and me wanting anything but. Still, sounds nice, though," she added, glancing sideways at Lottie with a hint of affection.

They strolled on, sharing laughs and stories, each day a little more freeing. Lottie found herself talking about Morgan—not by name, but by sharing memories and glimpses of their stolen moments. Esther would tease her about her "mystery man," but Lottie just smiled, treasuring the warmth she felt in those memories. Talking about him with someone felt comforting, as if somehow it kept her tethered to him. The ache in her chest softened in those moments, replaced by a sense of belonging and the faintest flicker of hope.

With each hour spent with Esther, Lottie's life brightened, and she began to look forward to the future, whatever it might hold. Even though she missed Morgan fiercely, she felt less alone, and her heart clung to his promise as her feet walked forward in Tumbleweed.

Feeling a pang of compassion for her friend, Lottie decided to do something special. Esther only had a few worn dresses, and although Lottie didn't care much for her lavish clothes, she knew she would be thrilled to have something new and fine. One morning, she carefully folded a few of her less extravagant dresses into a picnic basket. Her mother was in the kitchen, pleased when Lottie announced she'd be going on an outing with some "lady friends." That phrase, as ridiculous as it sounded, was the language her mother adored, so she used it, biting back a laugh at the joke she made silently about Esther being the butcher's daughter—hardly what her mother would consider a proper influence. Still, her mother nodded approvingly, delighted at the thought of Lottie engaging with the social circles she'd always dreamed for her daughter.

Lottie made her way to Esther's house, the basket in hand. Esther's eyes widened in disbelief when Lottie revealed the dresses, her mouth falling open. "For me?" she gasped, clutching one of the dresses to her chest. "Lottie, I can't believe it! I've never had anything so fine."