The Ocean’s City

I couldn’t help but to count the hours. Even though the only time I was keeping was the sunlight. The more the sun sunk past the horizon, my heart ached. 

I was done being the wild western housewife. The lifestyle was full of tedious housework. If I had to choose which reality Dalton forced me to live in, I would take the beach any day. If only I knew what mistakes I would have made to give me this life now, I would have changed them. I’d sacrifice to have Dannie by my side again.

Perhaps I had died on earth and was sent to heaven. Maybe I had sinned on heaven’s beaches, and they sent me here to live in this hell. Perhaps learning how to perfect the ways of an old-time housewife and burning my skin in the summer’s heat was Dalton’s way of punishing me.

Where was he?

Is he sitting back in his corner of heaven, waiting for me to form into the ideal wife he could take back with him? A slight metallic taste melted in my mouth as I bit my tongue in anger.

The sunset was changing colors as it lowered. Another second, I’m left here. I was tired. I didn’t want to learn how to sew anymore or how vegetables were preserved, let alone sit by a bucket of animal fat. I looked at the glumpy bits we had collected from an animal Jones had just slaughtered.

The images of the goat still flying around as it hung upside down with its throat slit haunted my memories. The blood draining from its body was not nearly as disturbing as Fran flinching at the sight of Jones slaughtering an innocent life.

He gave her an unreadable look as she walked back towards the house. His eyes met Frans for a mere second. I had no clue what he was trying to convey to her in that silent look, but whatever it was, he wasn’t happy with her.

Jones sighed, turning to me. “She will always find a reason not to trust me.”

I stood there looking at him, wondering the question I’d thought a million times already. Was he real or just a figment of this reality? If he was a figment, was he created to make me feel about Dalton in another light? Was I always looking for reasons to not trust Dalton?

“Bring that bucket over here, and let’s purify the fat,” Fran called by the fire, bringing my attention back to my complaints. She added wood to the pit, causing it to rise in flame.

I grabbed the bucket with a flare of sass. Playing with animal fat was the last thing I had wanted to do.

Fran was in a lecture about how this was one of the many steps to making soap. Thankfully, she stopped making jokes about how I conveniently forgot how to do the chores and explained everything to me.

I sat on the makeshift bench by the fire, too exhausted to listen to her. Instead, my gaze went out to the heart-stopping, beautiful sunset. That only made me feel pain. Would I spend another night alone? Then I saw movement on the horizon, and my hopeful wishes leaped into the sky.

Dalton had finally returned. I stood and paced the area, impatiently waiting for them. Fran stopped mid-sentence, and her eyes followed mine.

“Looks like the boys are back from the run.” She stated and went back to her work.

Minutes went by, and the horses could not return fast enough. They reached halfway, and I noticed with dread that Dalton was not part of the returning party.

Jones appeared from wherever he hid, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He shouted a greeting and walked to the cowboys. They exchanged conversation while Fran turned to me and noted. “You miss him, don’t you?”

My eyes didn’t leave the men as I watched one take something from his saddle and hand it to Jones. Jones seemed pleased as he gave the man a slap on his shoulder. I gave Fran a shrug.

“He’ll be back. He can’t stand being alone with you for too long. You know that.”

I wanted to cry but held the tears back as I gave Fran a pitiful glance. I wasn’t sure what I would say to her, but my lips opened and shut when Jones crouched near Fran.

Her whole body became rigid. His hand gently touched her lower back, and he carefully leaned in, catching a whiff of her scent. As he exhaled, his body relaxed, as if being around her was enough to grant his soul a rest. He held out his other hand, offering her a chocolate bar.

She stared at it in confusion.

“I had to bargain with the fellas, but I felt you deserved something sweet.”

I couldn’t tell if Fran was happy or not. She just sat frozen.

His voice softened as his eyes pleaded out to hers. “Next time, I’ll be sure you are out of sight before slaughtering the animals.”

Her body is slightly relaxed. She nervously reached out to take the bar. He didn’t let her take it right away. “I’m not made completely of rough edges.”

He let go of the bar, and she gave him a slight nod. He stood as if not wanting to push her too much. Like she was a scared wild animal, he was trying to coax her from a hole.

“I’d like to talk to you alone if you are okay with it.” I watched him, trying to catch her attention, and wanted to push Fran to him. The way he was gently standing there, unlike his usual cocky presence, warmed my heart.

She searched his gaze. I could sense her apprehension about being alone with him, even for a split second. “I’ll think about it.”

He nodded. “You can stay in sight of everyone if it makes you feel better.”