𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ⋆ 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘰𝘤 ⋆ 𝘳𝘥𝘳2

Chapter XI: Harsh Reality

The days slowly seem to drag on now, it seems like a chore to even get up out of bed to go on with my day normally as if nothing has happened. It's been days since I've seen Rhett, maybe he's mad at me? I just don't know why, maybe he thought I abandoned him. I sigh as I raise out of papa's bed slowly. I finally had enough of sleeping on hay so I swallowed the lump in my throat and crawled under the covers last night.

I walk out of what is now my room and into the living space. It seems more quiet today, I go to the cabinets to take out some ground coffee. I've never been a coffee person but ever since I've been more tired recently I seem to almost drown myself with it. I grab a pot out from a bottom shelf but as I place it on the counter, my door knocks. I look at the clock on the wall as it reads 8:53 am. I roll my eyes as I walk towards the front door. Why can't the world just ignore me?

I open the door and almost choke on air when I see Arthur standing before me. "Arthur?" I say immediately, he nods his head once. "What do you want?" I ask him, he takes his hat off as he stands before me. "Dutch wants to have a word with you." Arthur replies. I scoff.

"We've had words. " I remind him making him shrug, "That ain't good enough for him, I guess." Arthur replies. We stand in silence for a second while making eye contact.

"Well it better be 'cause I ain't got nothing to say to him. " I reply as I walk back into my house, leaving the front door open. I honestly don't care if he comes in or not, he'll be doing me a favor if he just shoots me now. I resume making the coffee I had once started.

"He insists-"

"Insists... that's funny. " I cut off as I chuckle, I place my pot onto the hot stove. I look back at Arthur as I lean against the counters, he is now standing next to the dining table. Arthur's face suddenly goes from neutral to annoyed.

"You cannot blame us for your daddy's death, Lilah. " Arthur tells me sternly. I'm taken aback by his sudden attitude change and the fact he called me my nickname. My face turns with anger. "Don't call me that." I warn, he rolls his eyes. "Well that is the only thing I know to call you. "

"Delilah is fine for you. "I inform him. Arthur's expression remains the same as he stands as still as stone. "That's not the point. Need I remind you - Delilah - that we did nothing to make your daddy die, you did that all on your own by leavin' and tryin' to take what was ours. Why you're tryin' to blame us is beyond me but we did what we felt as necessary to protect our people. If someone came into your home tryin' to rob ya, you're gonna do what you feel is necessary to keep the people you hold dear safe. We did just that by tying you up, and we've apologized more than I feel we've needed to. So stop blamin' people around you for what happened to your daddy and take a good long look at yourself. " Arthur sternly tells me as he leans both of his palms down on my dining table.

I say nothing. There is nothing to say, and even if there is, no words are coming to mind. All I hear is my coffee beginning to boil, I rush and take it off of the stove and place it on the counter. When I look up at Arthur again he now has his hat sitting on his head, slowly tipped down.

"Dutch will be at the little old saloon in Valentine waiting for you. Show up or don't, it doesn't even really matter. " Arthur spits before exiting my front door with a slam.

For the first time in a long time, I'm speechless. I turn to the coffee pot just to carry it out into the front yard and dump it out into the flowers. Suddenly I'm not in the mood to drink something I'm not even fond of. After that, of course I'm not going to meet Dutch. He'll probably just yell at me the same way Arthur just did.

I sit down at the dining table and place my head into my hands. Stop. Don't do this to yourself.. you can't. You're stronger than this Delilah, come on. I feel my stomach begin to tighten with guilt.

Arthur's right. It is my fault... all my fault. I was supposed to take care of papa, not leave him here to die. Why? Why would I do this? I take my hands away from my eyes then begin to cover my mouth with one of my hands. I squeeze my eyes tighter than ever to keep my tears at bay.

I wait for around a minute to calm down before I open my eyes and drop my hand down on the table. I begin to tear up an old napkin from my dinner last night as an outlet for the anger I'm holding at myself. I turn my head to look out the window. I stare out for a few seconds before standing up and rush to my room.

I open my chest to pull out a new outfit to wear since I can't go in my sleepwear. I grab a simple white dress shirt, a black vest that exposes my chest but will thankfully be covered by the white shirt. I make sure to grab my favorite pair of black pants I wear almost most of the time to go along with my outfit.

I finish getting ready by buttoning all three buttons that go up my vest, I make sure to button my shirt up as well only leaving four buttons unbuttoned. It reveals only a little bit of my cleavage but I've never really been the type to care about that sort of thing. Elegance is not really a word in my vocabulary, but comfort is.

I nod as I look at myself in the mirror once more, I take a deep breath in from my mouth and exhale the same way. I reach for my gun belt and attach it to my hip. After tightening it, I sit down on my chest to tuck my jeans into my boots. I want Dutch to know I mean business, and nothing more means business than wearing an outfit like this and having an attitude like mine. I have no idea what he even wan't to talk to me about, but I assume it just might be the same to what Arthur said twenty minutes ago.

With one more lengthy look in the mirror, I head out of my front door to go meet Dutch in Valentine.