(Ch11 Pt1) -Horseshoe Overlook-

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Chapter 11 Pt.I
"Polite Society, Valentine Style"

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"Hey, Tulip, wake up will ya?"

Tulip stirred, grumbling and sat up from her bed. She immediately felt tired, wanting to fall back asleep, but she didn't make another sound of complaint. Tulip yawned while Willow handed her a cup, her nose catching a whiff of the coffee.

They both sat still on the bed, the blonde sighing. "It ain't hard to figure things out, ya do know that, right?"

Tulip turned her head, wiping her eyelids. "Uh-huh. I know." She took a sip.

Willow handed her the journal, Tulip had regretted writing down her personal worries. Trying to hide it, yet here it is, sitting on her lap, the book which Willow easily saw and read. Both looked at each other, "Why don't you walk around for a bit, yeah? I'll get 'em horses ready, maybe... you should go an' see Hosea first. But, you don't have to."

Willow smiled and Tulip had taken her smile gratefully, at least she gets to see a nice and joyous face to brighten her days.

Standing up, Willow chuckled, flinging and slapping the small pouch at Tulip's face, her eyes pried wide open in surprise. "Wake up! good Lord." She snickered. "Now it's yer turn to go wash yer mouth!" She said playfully, Tulip shook her head in amusement, her hands held up as if she surrendered.

Tulip did as she said, watching Reverend Swanson already drunk and wandering around, blabbering a song in gibberish. Her and Micah shared a deadly look, to which he laughed at. The bruise from before had already almost healed, one wrong word or action, and Tulip will gladly give him another as an excuse. She heard most of the men in camp cheer the day after she had punched him, laughing at how a woman gave a man a beating.

Tulip left her trusty Lancaster (or Winchester) next to their quarters, she wouldn't need the rifle. Tulip had hoped that she wouldn't need to pull out her revolver if things got too ugly anyway.

Grimshaw, surprisingly, wasn't yelling at the moment, they both gave each other a kind wave as she was cleaning a wooden table used for poker sometimes. If it wasn't Tulip who'd sometimes kick the lazy drunks around to get up and do some work, it would be Susan Grimshaw intimidating them. Willow was talking with John and Abigail's son, Jack. The kid was a bit sick back up in Ambarino, but he seems to be much better now.

Still sipping the hot drink, Tulip stopped in her footsteps upon noticing that she was about to go to Hosea. She glanced at her cup, making the liquid swirve within the walls of the mug. Tulip saw herself on the reflection, how exhausted she looked and how her eyes were the windows of her weak self. Guessed that these past few days, she wasn't sleeping very well.

Lifting her head back up, Tulip strolled over. "Hi."

Both she and him were overlooking the Heartlands, vivid and veridian, completely filled with robust wildlife. Hosea glanced over his shoulder, one arm crossed and the other holding his coffee as Tulip walked and stood by his side. "Morning, Tulip." He wore a green coat with fur in it.

She grinned, "Thugh coffee?"

Hosea nodded taking a sip. "Ah, the coffee's good, I needed it."

Tulip yawned, "We all."

They both chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose we all do need it after the snow." He sat on top of a flat rock, "Why don't you have a seat? I'm sure you'd enjoy the view after so long."

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