LaHaye Ranch

[Nathan LaHaye]

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RESIDENTS


Nathan & Jeanine

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ANIMALS


Nathan's horse: DUKE


Jeanine's horse: PIPER


Nathan's dog: KING -- Jeanine's puppy: SUGAR


Horse team: ELLA and SADIE


Barn cats: IVY and ROGER


Roughly 15 chickens


Dairy cow: MABEL


Herd of 75 to 150

[Nathan LaHaye]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine

October 3rd, 1869
Late afternoon

With less than a month until their wedding Nathan had been working hard on the final touches to what would become his and Jeanine's home. He wanted to start things out right, perfect even, and not having a fully built and furnished house would have caused him to feel like a failure. There hadn't been too much to do since he'd been working on the house for quite some time. Just a few little projects here and there, inside and out, were all that had remained. He'd finished the last bit on outside only but a few days ago and all that had been left was the inside. Mainly just the decor. All of the furniture and garnishings, which they had ordered together, had arrived in time. They had a few more weeks before they were to move in together as husband and wife, but the sooner Nathan completed the task at building her a home the sooner he'd feel at ease. Starting out a marriage at a loss was not something he planned on doing.

Since their house was small in size, and Nathan's pockets were not overflowing with an abundance of cash, there had not been much needed to furnish the place. A table with a few chairs had been required for the kitchen, a few relaxing chairs for their living space and of course a bed for their bedroom. Nathan had been saving up for a while, however, as he wanted to be able to afford a few little extras. Like a nightstand and a vanity for Jeanine, a dresser, large area rug and a bookcase. Out of all that though there was only only really important piece of furniture that would be placed within their home. Jeanine's piano. Nathan has a spot in the house assigned specifically for it, unless of course she wished for it to be placed elsewhere, but for now that wall was kept empty.

For the past day and a half Nathan had worked hard in setting everything up. It had taken him a while, moving the furniture back and forth, this way and that, until everything seemed to fall into their perfect place. He wasn't sure if Jeanine would have wanted to be there, but Nathan felt like surprising her all the same. Besides, all the furniture could easily be moved again. The last thing Nathan had to do was make their bed. His mother had patched together a quilt with black and all shorts of different shades of gray material as one of her wedding gifts for the young couple. Annie had come to Nathan a few weeks ago and had asked him what colors Jeanine liked. To be honest he had not known, but found out soon and easily enough. It was strange to think that his energetic and high spirited bride-to-be could appreciate such a dismal color, but nonetheless it's what he reported back to his mother with.

Now knowing that the house would be set up and ready to be moved into a few weeks early Nathan went and had invited Jeanine out for the evening to show it all off. He purposely had not gone and told her as to why, as it wasn't often he got the chance to surprise the talented auburn haired singer, and as the hour in which they had agreed upon on grew closer Nathan began to grow more and more excited. He couldn't wait to see her look and hear her words of approval at what would be their little humble home. It wasn't much, but Nathan had put everything he had into building it just for her. So back and forth he ran, straightening this and that, and getting rid of any dust and or dirt or whatever else that had crept into the little house. Everything had to be flawless, just as she was, although nothing could compare to inward and outward beauty she possessed.

Nathan had been smoothing out any and all of the wrinkles upon their bedspread when he heard Jeanine arrive. Instantly his features lit up and an enormous grin spread out upon his lips. Quickly he finished up with the task at hand before grabbing up a small brown packaged present, tied together with ribbon upon the stand next to the bed. It was the exact same little pink stuffed piglet Jeanine had picked up and made kiss him upon the cheek back at the mercantile a few months back. He knew that she was adore the little heartfelt gift once he presented it to her. Then soon enough he stood there in the opened doorway leading outside, combing a rough hand through his ruffled hair before hiding the package behind his back, trying his best to appear calm and collected.

[Jeanine Stanton]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine



October 3rd, 1869
late afternoon

- - -

so it's over - this time, i know, it's gone
salt water, you tasted it too long
i only know one role, now i know it's gone
up in flames, up in flames, up in flames
we have slowly gone
can we pour some water on?

- - -

Still the world spun, still mankind moved on, but Jeanine Stanton felt lifeless and cold as a statue, numb through to the core. Unlike usual, she felt but did not appreciate the gentle Autumn breeze tousling her auburn tresses and caressing her exposed skin, she heard but did not listen to the rhythmic cadence of hooves, she looked but did not see the vibrantly colored trees and serenely swaying grasses around her. She could sense Piper's unrest as she sat upon the mare's back, giving an anxious toss of her mane along with an unnerved whinny every now and again as she leisurely cantered forward. The young Palomino may have been spoiled and lazy, but daft she was not, and the quiet stillness of her normally bubbly, jovial rider was unsettling to her. Lifting a lethargic hand to stroke along the horse's mane in an effort to soothe her nerves, the singer felt a single tear slide down her cheek, one of many she'd already shed that afternoon. Her emerald orbs were abnormally bright, moist and rimmed with red, her youthful face pale and harried. The sun was shining and there wasn't much of a breeze, but she felt cold to the bone.

For the past few weeks she'd known something was off, her heart had been hurting yet she simply couldn't grasp why. She'd brushed it aside and stuffed it down, ignoring it because she was supposed to be glowing with joy as the happiest and most important day of her life was swiftly approaching. But now she knew the reason behind the dull, angry ache in her chest and she'd never been so disappointed or distraught about having her feelings validated. It had all started late that morning when she'd headed to the mercantile to pick up some fabric for Jillian, who was too swamped with customers and orders to make the trip herself. A spring had been in her step and a sparkle in her eye, she was to meet up with her soon-to-be husband later that day at their future home and was positively teeming with excitement about a 'surprise' he evidently had for her, she loved his spontaneous side as something good almost always came out of it. On the way back from running her sister's errand she'd crossed paths with an old friend, Gabe Creed, and they'd gotten to talking. He'd seemed a little friendlier than usual, stood a little too close by her side, though she hadn't really minded up until he'd inquired as to the welfare of her leg injury.

Alarms had instantly gone off inside her head, and she'd stopped dead in her tracks, revolving on her heel to fix him with a bewildered and incredulous stare. The only man who knew anything about the nasty scar on her inner thigh - other than Jacob, of course, who had been there for the scuffle - was Nathan, her fiancé, and rightfully so. There was no reason for anyone else of the male persuasion to have any sort of familiarity with such an intimate area of her body. Long story short, she'd pushed him into an abandoned alleyway and interrogated him as to how he had such explicit knowledge, bullying the answers out of him until the ugly truth was unveiled. At first, she hadn't believed him. She would never do such a thing, never in a million years! But her vehement resistance had dwindled as he went into detail, and suppressed, blurry memories resurfaced, flooding back like a forbidden tidal wave. She recalled their salacious exchange outside the sheriff's office, of all places, and how it had escalated to an obscene and rough romp in the livery. Jeanine was rendered speechless by these realizations, her knees had buckled and she'd let out a broken sob. Gabe had moved to support her, though she'd all but screamed at him to stay away, shoving him off like a venomous snake. She wouldn't have him touching her ever again.

In a burst of unadulterated tumultuous emotion, she'd fled the alley, fighting back hot and heavy tears of shame. She had felt dirty, soiled, violated. The strangest urge to claw and scratch at her very skin was strong, she wanted to rid herself of any lingering trace of Gabriel Creed's touch. It was not that she thought he'd used or abused her, though he essentially had. While she had been drunk beyond belief, she had still given her consent, and that was perhaps the most disgusting notion of all. Stumbling through the door at her sister's house, Jillian had been shocked to see the tall brunette holding not reams of fabric but her own slender shoulders, shaking and on the verge sobbing. The seamstress had rushed forward and caught her younger sibling in her arms just in time to hold her close as she broke down, violently trembling and bawling as she hadn't in years. Once she'd composed herself enough to form coherent words, she'd told Jill the entire story, only to lapse into another tearful fit as she lamented her own destruction of the marriage that hadn't yet even begun. Concerned yet calm and compassionate as ever, the older woman had spoken soft and soothing words in her ear. Jeanie, honey, you need to tell him. You don't know what he'll say or do until then. But he should hear the truth from you. I think you owe him that much. And though she knew her sister was right, the task of telling the truth and breaking Nathan's heart in one fell swoop seemed so incredibly daunting.

But now that she knew what had happened, she couldn't simply keep it to herself. They couldn't start the rest of their lives together with such a dark cloud looming overhead, and even if being honest meant they would have no life together at all, Jeanine loved him enough to let him go. He deserved better, he was so unbelievably wonderful in every way and she was unworthy of such perfection. Her heart was heavy as her horse approached their destination, the home he'd single-handedly built with her on his mind, his exact words and ones that weighed hard on her now like lead bullets. Dismounting from the disturbed mare, the auburn-haired songstress sniffled as she loosely looped Piper's reins through the nearby fence, then straightened up and glanced toward the house. She saw him standing in the doorway, and offered a feeble wave before brusquely wiping at her cheeks, hoping to dissipate the tear tracks. After steeling herself for whatever was to come, Jeanine felt as though she was walking an invisible plank to her death in the churning waters of an invisible sea as she made her way toward the house, until she was standing right in front of him. The sight of his face shattered her heart all over again, he looked so handsome and boyish leaning up against the threshold, clearly trying to appear cool and nonchalant though she could see the excitement and enthusiasm brewing in those baby blues that never lied. Standing there gazing up at him with emerald eyes rimmed in red, the power of speech seemed to have left her, so she simply reached out with a faintly trembling hand and caressed her fingertips along his stubbled cheek. The gesture was soft, affectionate and tender, and she ached with love for him. "Hi," Jeanine managed weakly, lightly brushing the pad of her thumb along his lower lip before leaning in and kissing him softly on the mouth. The knowledge that it might just be the last time made her push up against him just a little bit urgently, though she pulled back before the waterworks started, so he wouldn't have to taste the salt of her tears. Blinking them back, she inhaled deeply and forced a smile, running a reverent hand through his already ruffled dark hair before cradling the side of his face in her warm palm. "I love you so, so much," Jeanine breathed, desperately fighting to keep the quake out of her voice. "I just need you to know that." He had to know, even if he didn't believe her after what she was about to tell him.

[Nathan LaHaye]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine

October 3rd, 1869
Late afternoon

Gradually the leaves of the few surrounding trees out on the plains were beginning to fade of their greenery as the days grew shorter and the temperatures cooler. Red, yellow, orange and brown and all the hues in-between. It's what would soon surround them. Even the prairie grass would take it's turn and fall into that simple but awe inspiring transformation. Autumn was a prelude of things to come and a memory of things passed. It held a special meaning this year for Nathan as it signified a whole new chapter in his life which would soon begin. He was feeling more and more anxious the closer their wedding drew near. The next few weeks could not speed on by quick enough for him. Everything he had done in his life up until now Nathan felt had been all for this. There were times when he had wondered had the smallest thing changed in his past if he would be here today with Jeanine as his soon-to-be bride. What if they had never moved from Louisiana? For sure the two of them would have never crossed paths. What if his father had not died and he hadn't become the sheriff of Buffalo Creek? Would the two of them ever have known each other as they do now? Today though, he would not be dwelling on any what ifs but instead he would be grasping and looking forward to the future.

As Jeanine went about tying up Piper Nathan stayed put in the threshold of the door, leaning comfortably up against the frame. Usually he would have gone out to greet her and offer up his help, but today he wished to welcome her at the entrance and pull her along with him into the home which he had built with her on his mind. He had a specific plan on how he was going to go about showing everything off to her, as he had spent near all morning conjuring up the best way and now that she had arrived Nathan couldn't wait. She appeared to be a bit slower than usual, something about her seemed a bit off. Nathan took notice but pushed the thought aside hoping that it was just his imagination as he would not allow anything to ruin the rest of their evening together. "Hey there." As she finally came to a stop in front of him Nathan looked down at her with his usual bright blue eyes and a familiar smile which made him appear more youthful. The simple touch of her fingertips sailing along the angles of his jaw was something natural, as they almost always embraced one another in an undying affection of touch.

Nathan couldn't help but notice, now that they stood within such a close proximity of one another, how worrisome she looked - or perhaps she was just tired and worn out from performing the night before at the saloon. Nathan went ahead and assumed that it was the latter as what he had to show her would not take very long. Then if she still craved sleep there was their big comfortable bed for her to lay down upon. Here she could sleep for as long as she wanted and not need to worry about her sleep being interrupted. It was quiet and peaceful for the most part out here in the grasslands with not but a few neighbors, only they were miles away. Just a few hoots and hollers could be heard or the bawling of what wound soon be a herd of cattle once he went ahead and purchased them.

It was almost guaranteed that the two would share a kiss upon meeting up with one another after having a bit of a gap from not seeing one another. So as Jeanine leaned forward Nathan met her halfway and the two shared a sweet and tender kiss. Then it turned into something more, if not for only a short moment, as Jeanine curved her voluptuous frame against him. Nathan took this thinking that she was silently telling him how much she missed him, how much she needed to be with him once more. Nathan fully understood her actions, at least he thought he understood, and responded in longing, wrapping his arms fully around her middle and pulling her into him even more so. As they parted she spoke up with words of her love for him, almost as if he needed to be reassured of such knowledge. "I love ya too." His eyes narrowed in question if only for a second before he remembered the package in his hand. "Here!" Nathan took a step back and held it out for her to take. "It's yers, but ya can't open it yet." Leaning forward he pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "Now.. come with me," His voice grew in excitement as he reached out a hand to grab up her own and pulled her inside.

"I asked for ya t'come out here today so I could show ya around the place." Surely by now Jeanine had taken notice that their simple little home was no longer bare. "Everythin' we ordered came in 'bout a week ago. I hope ya don't mind, but I didn't tell ya. I wanted t'set it all up and surprise ya." If she had sent any form of protest his way Nathan went ahead and ignored it as he walked deeper inside while still holding onto her delicate hand. Since they were right there Nathan pointed out the table and chairs first thing. Moving on Nathan pulled her along and stopped in front of what would perform as their stove and heating arrangement, at least for now. "Ma says she's jealous of ya and this here stove." Annie had come out a few days ago and helped her son with the easy decorations. "These rockin' chairs are awful nice. Mighty comfortable." Nathan walked over and lightly nudged one of them, causing it to swing back and forth. "Then here..!" Letting go of her hand Nathan hurried over to the back wall on the east side of the house and stretched out his arms. "This here is where I thought ya might like t'have yer piano. Below the window here so ya can look and see the stars or the mountains in the distance." Nathan wasn't quite sure what Jeanine used as inspiration for her songs. Nonetheless he figured she'd enjoy the view.

Walking back to her side Nathan looked down at her with a grin, hoping that she would love it all. "Of course we can change anythin' ya don't like," he quickly added just in case before she was able to get a word out. There was only one more room he had to show her and it was his favorite by far. So after grabbing up her hand again Nathan walked over to the door and then turned to face her. "I'm sure ya know what's behind this door." He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully while reaching behind him to grab the knob. "Thought I'd save it for last." Turning back around Nathan didn't dawdle any longer as he swung the door open and stepped aside for her to walk in first and soon followed behind. "That there dresser will be mine and then the vanity with the mirror is all yers." Nathan scooted around her and plopped himself down upon the edge of the bed. "Oh! Did ya notice the bedspread? Ma made it. It's an early wedding gift." Outstretching his arms Nathan grabbed a hold of Jeanine by her hips and easily pulled her down onto his lap. "Ya can open yer gift now if ya want."

[Jeanine Stanton]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine



October 3rd, 1869
late afternoon

- - -

Evidently Nathan's excitement and enthusiasm about whatever surprise he had planned was enough to blind him to his fiancée's despondent and dejected mood, though she had to admit she was somewhat glad of that, at least for now. She would have to work herself up to a state of mind where she could actually unveil the truth to him, because there was nothing in this world that pained her more than his pain, and he would undoubtedly be suffering when he found out that she'd shattered their commitment to one another that was supposed to last a lifetime. If it was possible to rewind time, to go back and relive a certain event again, Jeanine would do it in a heartbeat. She would've turned Gabe away that night, told him to find some other pretty drunk girl to take advantage of, someone else's relationship to sabotage. Nathan's heart was her most prized possession, he'd entrusted it to her and she'd crushed it in the palm of her hand as if it was nothing, nothing at all. Having to live with that knowledge was quite possibly the worst fate in the world, and if she had a choice, she would've rather just not woken up that morning than be saddled with this overwhelming guilt and shame.

A light sniffle and the faintest hint of a smile as the good sheriff returned her sentiment of love, though she couldn't help but wonder in the back of her mind if he would still feel that way once he knew she'd given herself to another man. Just the thought made her feel dirty, soiled, as if she was some sort of virginal angel to begin with. That certainly wasn't the case, but she'd promised her heart, body and soul to him and now all of that seemed void, broken. Actions spoke infinitely louder than words, and she'd acted against the love they'd spend the last two years building and cherishing together. Jeanine ran a spent hand through her disheveled auburn tresses, inhaled a deep and shuddering breath, then blinked as a small package was suddenly shoved in her face. She stared at it for a moment, then lifted her emerald gaze to eye him questioningly, though before she could ask he told her not to open it, pressed a tender kiss to her temple and proceeded to drag her inside. Like a limp puppet she allowed herself to be tugged along, holding onto the package with one hand and loosely looping her fingers through his with the other. She'd never felt so helpless.

The world around her seemed to be moving in drastically slow motion as hazy, reddened jade orbs absorbed her surroundings, the newly furnished little home in all its cozy splendor. Jeanine gulped, felling unnaturally cold and lethargic as she stood there, looking but seeing all his hard work, time and effort put forth just to please her. She was staring their future straight in the face and all she wanted to do was turn away, huddle up in a little corner and cry until tears could no longer be shed, until her heart stopped hurting. "Oh, Nathan, you didn't have to do th..." Her voice was small, weak, and inconsequential so it was no wonder that he paid her no mind, continuing to cart her along as he animatedly babbled about and praised all the furnishings. She felt as though a boulder had been dropped into the pit of her stomach as he mentioned his mother - oh god, what would Annie think when she found out? She wouldn't be able to look that warm, kindhearted and sweet, sweet woman in the face after this, it was just yet another motherly figure that she'd managed to disappoint. The thought nearly brought bile to the back of her throat, she felt nauseous and sick at the mere prospect. It was incredible and disgusting how just one night could generate such a grave mistake, could hurt so many people and disturb so many lives...and it was all her fault.

The tall brunette followed her fiancé like a listless, zombified shell of a woman as he delved further into the little home and gestured grandly at an empty space, proclaiming it would be the place where she could put one of her most prized possessions, the piano that she'd been playing since she was a little girl who could barely hoist herself up onto the bench. Jeanine covered her mouth with the back of her hand to quell the sob that rose in her throat, though she tried to look happy for his sake, lowering her hand and forcing a smile. "You remembered Bentley," she whispered hoarsely, struck by his thoughtfulness and sweetness. He never failed to surprise her with the depth of his love and devotion, and moments such as these proved that she was undoubtedly unworthy of such an incredible man. Her father had once said to her that the best gift to give a woman was something that she'd said she wanted when she'd thought her man wasn't listening. Nathan always listened, and he always gave her just wanted she wanted, material or otherwise. He truly was wonderful, and his love was the purest she'd ever known. The self-hatred she felt in that moment was the only purer emotion she'd ever experienced.

Soon he migrated back over to her side and she shook her head as he hastily explained that he would change anything she didn't like. A strange cross between a dry sob and a laugh escaped her lips as she somehow worked up the courage to meet his gaze, shaking her head in awed disbelief as she stared into those depthless baby blues. "It's perfect," Jeanine uttered in a hollow whisper, once again reaching up with her free hand to gently cradle his stubbled cheek in the palm of her hand. "You're perfect. This..." She slowly slid her hand away from his skin, making a sweeping gesture at their surroundings. "...is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me." It was a struggle just to keep her voice from quivering as her heart shattered like glass, though she forced another smile, wanting to make these last few moments of joyful contentedness as blissful as possible for him. So she didn't protest when Nathan once again fished for her hand, leading her into what was undoubtedly to be their bedroom. She wanted to be able to share his enthusiasm and playfulness as he waggled his eyebrows at her before pushing open the door, though she simply stood there glued to the spot, paralyzed and unable to move. Luckily he gently nudged her forward and she took the hint, numbly walking into the room with him following close behind. She glanced around as he called her attention to different places, feeling as though she was living someone else's life, standing where some other more worthy woman should've been. Stupefied and stunned into silence, she slowly turned to look at the bedspread he spoke of, which his mother had knitted with her worn and loving hands using shades that were black as the young musician's heart. It was her favorite color, though she'd never imagined that she would feel it, so dark and dim inside her.

Then she felt familiar hands take hold of her hips and suddenly she was seated upon his lap, a place that she usually felt happy and content, but now she was just conflicted and distressed, enormously guilty and incredibly ashamed. Jeanine wrapped her free arm around his neck and shoulders to support herself, staring down at the gift she'd forgotten she was holding as he brought it to her attention. It was little and light, and though she was curious, she was torn between opening it and throwing it across the room, screaming of her infidelity. Since that likely wasn't the best way to break the news, she simply ripped away the paper with trembling fingers, cuddled up to his chest and feeling like she was the last person on Earth who deserved to be sharing this moment with him. Once she unwrapped the small token, the sight that greeted her normally would have delighted her, but she felt only mounting despair. It was the soft stuffed piglet she'd played with when they'd gone furniture shopping, making its little pink snout kiss his cheek and talking about the baby they'd one day make to give it to. For a long moment she simply stared at it, feeling something break inside of her, the blood running ice cold in her veins. It wasn't until she saw a single tear drop onto the little piglet's forehead that she realized she was crying, liquid heartache dripping from her eyes and running in hot, sticky tracks down her flushed cheeks. She could no longer suffer in silence, and a soft sob escaped her lips, accompanied by a shuddering breath after which she bit down on her lip to quiet the sounds of her woe.

Finally the miserable singer lifted her head met his deep blue gaze, her own emerald eyes red and puffy and overflowing with turmoil. He must've been so confused, wondering what he'd done wrong, clueless as to why her reaction was so uncharacteristic and upset. She couldn't stall any longer, it would only make things worse. Setting aside the piglet, there were already tears streaming down Jeanine's face as she gently held his face in the palms of her hands, tenderly brushing the pads of her thumbs along his cheekbones. "I want to tell you something." She began in a trembling and uneven tone, her voice barely above a broken whisper. "I need to tell you something." A pause, her lower lip quivering as an agonized expression cast a dark shadow over her features and she sobbed softly, her voice cracking mid-phrase, "But I don't want to lose you." She was barely holding it together, clenching her jaw with nostrils flared due to her labored breathing, one of her hands smoothing up and over the side of his head to lightly, reverently run her fingers through his hair. Despite her moist, red and watery eyes she held his gaze steady, inhaling a shaky breath before continuing, "But I...I love you, honest to God, more than anyone on this earth and when you love someone so much you can feel it in your bloodstream, like...like a beautiful disease, you...you have to tell them the truth." Another moment of silence as she desperately clung to any last lingering shred of coherency, another pathetic and rasping sob leaving her lips as she added in a soft, agonized whimper, "Even if you know it's going to hurt them. Even if...even if you know it's going to break their heart." A fresh river of tears surged forth from her pained emerald orbs, though still her eyes never left his. "So before I even say anything...I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Nathan." Jeanine rested her forehead against his, cradling the back of his head and weeping bitterly, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple and then trailing them over his cheek, along his jaw, down his neck and across his collarbone to the crevice of his shoulder, the salt of her tears moistening her lips on his skin.

Her tearstained face stayed burrowed in the fabric of his shirt for a long moment, before she finally lifted her head and forced herself to pull it together, knowing that he was most likely confused as hell by this point. Jeanine roughly wiped her eyes with a fist and took a few deep breaths, before beginning in a hoarse but relatively steady voice, "A few months back, a group of rowdy cowboys drifted into the saloon one night and took a particular liking to my performance. Afterward they surrounded me and insisted I let them buy me a few drinks, and I didn't want any trouble so I just went along with it. But a 'few' turned out to be quite a bit more than that and before I knew it, I could barely walk a straight line or pronounce my own name. One of them tried to take me home but then Sam kicked the whole party out to the curb, and offered to walk me back to Jillian's but...I told him to take a hike." She shook her head, gritting her teeth and feeling the flames of white hot anger lick at her insides as she looked back on it now, enraged that she had been so stupid and bullheaded. "Whiskey was practically pouring from my every orifice and...you know how I get when I'm wasted..." Jeanine dragged a hand over her face wearily, taking in another shuddering breath before forcing herself to continue. "I was about a split second away from screwing a wooden post just to get my fix when...when I ran into Gabe Creed." She'd thought about leaving out his name, but she knew Nathan would just grill her until she gave it up anyhow, so perhaps by revealing it early on it would weather some of the storm. The next part was by far the worst, and she felt her eyes welling up once again as she slowly continued in a low, chagrined tone, "I was drunk, so so drunk and I really had no idea where I even was, much less what I was doing. One thing lead to another and we...we, uh..." She couldn't say it. Jeanine desperately searched his face, trying to read his reaction, to anticipate what he might say or do. Tears streamed hot and heavy down her stricken face as she grappled for the right words, but unable to find them, she placed a tender hand on the side of his face, the other one gently rubbing his chest right above his heart, desperately clinging to the closeness they shared and trying to hope for the best. "I didn't remember a single thing about it, I was so far gone that I didn't know it had even happened until today...I came across Gabe in town and he...he asked me how my scar was healing." She knew that Nathan would know what mark she was talking about, the one that only just the two of them knew about...or were supposed to. "I made him tell me everything." Placing her other hand on his cheek as well, Jeanine gazed into the depths of his baby blues with her own bright, teary jade eyes as she breathed in the form of a broken sob, "I'm sorry...oh god, I'm so sorry. It meant nothing to me, he means nothing to me, it was a stupid, stupid, stupid mistake and I've never regretted anything so much in my life." She desperately coiled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and tighter up against her as she shifted to straddle him so she could look him directly deadset in the eyes, still holding his face in her palms as she cried breathlessly, "You're the only one, Nathan, the only man I've ever loved and ever will...please, please believe me. Oh god, please..." Jeanine pressed herself up against him, encircling him in her arms, her forehead resting on his as a mere breath separated their lips, her tears dripping onto his skin. She wanted so badly to kiss him, to fix everything with that simple gesture of love, but she knew it couldn't erase what she'd done.

[Nathan LaHaye]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine

October 3rd, 1869
Late afternoon

All Nathan was looking for was Jeanine's approval of what he had built for the two of them to being their new life together as husband and wife. Her acceptance was all he needed, all he wanted. Anyone and everyone else could loath his handy work in constructing the house and barn and everything else that was under his name. As long as Jeanine was satisfied then Nathan was happy. However, how she had replied worried Nathan. Her words spoke that of appreciation, but her actions - or rather lack thereof - said otherwise. Expectations of Jeanine floundering back and forth, jumping all around and smothering him with sweet, tender kisses had been cut down. Instead she stood there, just smiling and even then only seldomly. Something was definitely the matter, either that or she was extremely tired. He only hoped that whatever the reason for the absence of her usual bubbly self would soon be revived with the heartfelt gift she held in her hand, which was still wrapped up and tied off with string.

After bringing it to her attention Nathan leaned back, resting his palms on the bedspread to hold himself up. While waiting patiently for her to open up her present he was nearly bouncing up and down on the edge of the mattress in anticipation. Nathan knew how she would take to the small stuffed piglet as it represented the possibility of a challenging yet renewed future later on down the line. When they were ready to take the next step past joining together in marriage, to start a family. The notion still scared him, but only somewhat. Not nearly as bad as before. To be honest Nathan has had a few nightmares of little children running about his feet, making a mess of things and always getting into trouble. In one particular dream six or seven of the rugrats had pulled him down to the floor and started beating on him with their rattles. He had woken up in a cold sweat that night. But all that was from before Jeanine and himself had talked about children. Not even their own specifically, but now knowing without a doubt that she would be the mother of his children he felt more at ease.

As Jeanine unwrapped the plush toy Nathan's gaze shifted back and forth between it and her while grinning from ear to ear. He was quite proud of himself for having thought to go back and buy the little piglet from the mercantile. It wasn't often that he went and bought sentimental gifts for family or friends. Jeanine was special though. Her reaction when her eyes first settled on the piglet was, once again, not what he had been expecting. Nathan's smile dissipated and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had he made a mistake in purchasing the toy? Did she not like it? The silence which passed between them put him on alert. He had done something to upset her. Was it not the pig? Perhaps it was something else. The house maybe? Had one of the orders come back wrong? Truth be told, Nathan wouldn't have realized it if that were so. Frantically he began to look around their room trying to remember exactly all that she had wanted. Was something missing? He tried to lean off to the side and peek out the bedroom, but the view was not very wide spread. All he could see was the table.

"Jeanine--" Nathan started to come out and ask her directly as to what was the matter, but once she lifted her head he was rendered speechless at the sight of her. Red, puffy and glassy emerald eyes locked onto his own baby blues. At the sight of fresh flowing tears cascaded down her cheeks Nathan felt as if his heart had stopped beating. These were no happy tears. Something truly had gone wrong, but what? He wished to apologize beforehand. Whatever it was that he had done Nathan would gladly undo for her. It didn't make a difference if it was the entirety of the house. He'd knock it all down and start anew if that were the case. When she finally reached up and held his face between the palms of her hands Nathan looked out over her features hoping that she would give away at least some sort of indication as to the meaning behind her dejection. He decided to wait as he saw in her hazy, although still beautiful eyes that she had something of importance to say.

Finally, after all that waiting in silence wondering and worrying about what was perturbing her, Jeanine whispered lowly. At first she was hard to hear as her voice sounded hoarse, broken. Nathan leaned forward some while a large gentle hand of his began to smooth up and down the length of her back, hoping it would bring some form of comfort to her. He replied then with a nod of his head in understanding before she continued. But I don't want to lose you. Nathan sat straight up, his eyebrows furrowing once again in a mix of confusion at her words. His gaze zeroed in on her features, not wanting to look away even if for a second in case he missed something. There was no denying that she was struggling to keep it together while she sought out her next words. She loved him, this Nathan knew, but the more she said the more perplexed he became. You have to tell them the truth. The truth. What truth? Even if you know it's going to hurt them. Even if...even if you know it's going to break their heart. Nathan definitely didn't like the sound of where this might be going.

A million and one things plagued his mind as to what Jeanine might soon reveal to him as she went on to apologize time and time again. And while he ran away with all sorts of possibilities he allowed her to pull him in, their foreheads soon resting against the other, a simple intimate gesture in a stolen moment. When she pulled away and began to leave a trail of amorous kisses, Nathan shut his eyes and breathed in heavily, feeling unsure if he was ready for this. The only reasonable explanation, which made more sense with all she had said, cut him deep. Was she really about to call off their wedding? Their whole engagement altogether? Shifting uncomfortably beneath her light weight, Nathan said not a word since Jeanine had not yet come outright saying it was such. He hoped it was not so. Alas, she began to tell him a story about one of the nights she had performed at the saloon. Roughed up cowboys wanting to buy her drinks sounded nothing out of the ordinary, but she didn't stop there. Jeanine went on to explain that she had accepted their drinks on this particular evening and quite a bit too many at that. One cowboy had even gone far enough to ask if he could accompany her home. Nathan feared the worst as he heard this. Relief washed over him however as Jeanine went on to say that Sam had shooed them away and offered up his own services of being her escort. The old man had always been generous enough in helping out his girls. For this Nathan was thankful, but that's not how the story ended. Still she went on saying that she had turned away Sam's offer. A frown stained Nathan's lips at her confession.

What Jeanine claimed happened next obscured his thoughts of all the thought prospects. The second she said his name Nathan knew. The possibility of this ever happening had never entered his mind. Not even for a second as so many times in the past she had proclaimed that he was the only man for her, that his touch, his love was all that she needed and no other's. He might have questioned if she had been lying to him all this time, but Nathan knew Jeanine better than that. If she hadn't felt anything for him then she wouldn't have come. It must have taken a lot of courage for her to tell him the truth, but honestly Nathan felt anything but appreciative at the moment. His body stiffened beneath her instead, as he felt a strange pang in the pit of his stomach as if someone had just sucker punched him in the abdomen. More than anything he wished to ask her why, but Nathan knew the answer to that. This.. it never would have happened had he not put a restraint on their sexual advances with one another back when they had become engaged. Looking back now he wondered what had gone through his mind, why he had ever even thought of the notion. What a fool he had been.

What Nathan really wanted to know though was why Gabriel Creed? Out of all the men in town it just had to have been him. Since he had first laid his sight on Gabe, Nathan never liked him. Something about him just rubbed Nathan the wrong way. He was a ex-criminal, had been wanted throughout the country, but once a criminal always a criminal. Now Nathan had a justified reason for hating the man. Hate really wasn't even a strong enough word. Just imagining Gabe having his way with Jeanine, being so close to her that he could witness her scar outraged him. Everyone who lived in town knew that Jeanine and himself were engaged and soon to be married. Gabe had to have known as well. Only a desperate man would take someone else's woman to their bed.

Everything else that Jeanine said had gone in one ear and out the other for Nathan. He was lost in thought not really sure what to say or how to react. Never before had he felt so hurt, so betrayed. Nathan was not mad at Jeanine, just sorely disappointed that she had soiled what he had thought to be sacred between two people who loved each other. She jerked him back to reality as she desperately held him close, although his body was anything but relaxed. Words of everlasting love spilled forth from her lips, just like that in the past. Nathan said nothing back in reply. Instead he pulled his face away from her own, picked her up off his lap and scoot away off to the side. He needed some time and space to think of how he was going to handle this.

For the longest time he sat there hunched over with his face buried within his hands. Nothing could have ever prepared him for such heartache. Breathing out heavily Nathan finally looked up, still unsure as to what he planned on doing. That was at least until his eyes fell upon his new Winchester 1866 Saddle Ring Carbine rifle, mounted above the doorway. Nathan had never amounted to violence before, not in a fit of outrage anyways. Only when it had been necessary to protect himself or others. It got him thinking, he needed to do something. There was no need to punish Jeanine any further than she had already punished herself, but Gabe.. the cause of all this. He was a different story. Who knows how many other men had heard his story of how he had taken the chance to have his way with the sheriff's fiance. Nathan had to put a stop to it, even if no one else knew.

Standing up from where he had been sitting Nathan began to roll up his sleeves. There was no need to wait until tomorrow to confront the man responsible, as now seemed as good as any. Without a word Nathan walked over and pulled the gun down from it's location with his back facing towards Jeanine. First thing he did was empty the gun, knowing for a fact that it was loaded, not wanting to take a chance in permanently harming the man. Although he was beyond furious Nathan still had his morals. From somewhere behind him Jeanine appeared and grabbed a hold of his arm, begging for him not to go. Obviously she didn't understand this was something he had to do. Not just was he going to maintain his pride, but above all else he was out to seek Gabe in order to defend her. Without a word he jerked his arm away from Jeanine's touch and walked out of the bedroom. Nathan collected his gunbelt and stetson then, but before leaving he halted in the opened doorway leading to the outside. Tilting his head only slightly he looked back over his shoulder. He barely was able to make out her silhouette in his peripheral vision. Then with his head hung down low Nathan walked out, slamming the door behind him without so much as even a goodbye.

[Jeanine Stanton]

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UP IN FLAMES
---------------------------
nathan & jeanine



October 3rd, 1869
late afternoon

- - -

i wish you'd hold me when i turn my back
the less i give the more i get back
oh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
i don't have a choice but i'd still choose you

- - -

It seemed as if the very fabric of the universe was ripping and tearing at the seams, everything was falling apart and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Their relationship was like water slipping through the spaces between her fingers, she was desperately holding on and clinging to what little was left and yet it was all in vain, all for naught, it still puddled at her feet like a forlorn and forgotten dream turned nightmare. The moment she'd spoken those sinful words she'd both felt and heard the storm coming, thunder was rumbling and castles were crumbling, burying her beneath the rubble. Gasping for air and writhing beneath the ruins, it was all she could do to hold on, because as much as she just wanted to lie down and give up, she could not bring herself to do so. Practically climbing him like a tree, clinging and embracing and squeezing him like she was trying to hold together the pieces of his heart, she never wanted to let Nathan go for fear that he would disintegrate and float away like ashes in the wind. The prospect of losing him was absolutely terrifying, worse than death, but it was better than living a lie. After all that he'd done for her, all that he'd given her, the very least he deserved was the truth. It was both a blessing and a curse, but as inevitable as the sheets of violent rain and rumbling, roiling avalanches that followed. Just as their hearts had once beat as one, they now were equally tattered, torn asunder and shattered.

The sheer desperacy of her words and actions did not match her inner despair, though she clung to him in a flurry of tender caresses and hot, wet tears her insides were cold as stone. Jeanine could see it in the endless depths of those baby blue eyes, his pain was her own and she ached, she agonized, she suffered as he did. She'd never known such misery as she did in those few quiet moments between them, his hushed reticence sliced her clear through to bone and she bled as openly as she wept. He was so tense beneath her touch, so close but so far away, he was hers no longer and she felt that in every pulsation of the blood in his veins, every last broken beat of his heart. "Please say something," she rasped despondently, able to bear the suffocating silence no longer. The only reply she received was a slow recoil, he peeled her off of him like a disgusting and unwanted second skin, shedding and shunning her. A small, barely audible whimper left her lips, perhaps the most pathetic sound she'd ever made, as she watched him shrink away as if he was repulsed by being near to her. He retreated to the opposite corner of the mattress, leaving her huddled and hunched there like a small child, clueless of how to hold herself up and wilting like a flower exposed to the frigid first frost of winter. She was so, so cold, inside and out. He was her only source of sunshine and warmth, eternally eclipsed of her own doing.

It was unfathomably and heartrendingly sad to see the upbeat, optimistic and glowingly joyful man he'd been only moments ago reduced to a slouching, slumping shadow, hiding his face as if he no longer trusted her enough to even share a look. The despondent songstress wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to be a source of solace and comfort as in the past, but this time she was the cause of his suffering and it seemed simply being in the same room with her was too great of torture for him to bear. Her mouth opened to utter pointless and empty words, apologies that meant nothing, yet no sound came forth and so she stayed silent, ever so slightly shaking from head to toe. Each heartbeat hurt, each shuddering breath she hoped would be her last because without him, death was a welcome fate. Jeanine's formerly vibrant, vivid emerald eyes were lifeless and lethargic as she watched him lift his head, waiting for the inevitable blow. She expected it, she wanted it, she needed it - she deserved to be cut down for her actions. Whatever he decided to do, she had it coming. Jeanine numbly held her knees against her open, bleeding chest and curled up into a pale, pitiful little ball and glumly observed him rising to his feet, rolling up his sleeves with purpose evident in his ever painstaking motion. Perhaps under usual circumstances she would have been alarmed, afraid even, flinching with fear at the prospect of potential violence. But now the thought of bearing the brunt of his fist held no trace of terror for her, as ridiculous as the thought in and of itself even was.

Though her heart briefly ceased beating when Nathan's hand, the same one that had once so tenderly and lovingly caressed her, curled around his gun.

Whatever followed she could not see as his back was turned, but it was as if some sort of binding spell had been broken and her stupefied paralysis disappeared as she sprung to her feet, lithe and alert as a nimble feline. Jeanine's teary jade eyes were wide with terror, pure panic gripping her like a vise as she breathed his name in a soft, quivery whimper. "Nathan?" Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was entirely irrational, but in that absolutely horrifying split second of all-encompassing, blinding horror, she thought he was going to kill her. Slowly turn, look her one last time in the face, then shoot her dead right between the eyes. How she could've even thought such a thing she would later question, but thank God she took those few shaky steps forward because they allowed her to see him empty the rifle's barrel of bullets. Relief flooded her like a tsunami, though it lasted only a bittersweet moment before his intention hit her like a ton of bricks. It wasn't her that he wished to terrorize with his weapon, she realized with a staggering sensation of nausea. As much as she loathed the man who had used and abused her that fateful forsaken night, she couldn't let him fall victim to a boundless rage that should've been aimed at her. "No," Jeanine uttered lowly, a touch of the usual strength and vigor returning to her formerly weak and tiny tone, though it stemmed from a place of pure adrenalized anxiety.

Uncaring of the possible consequences, the stricken brunette struck out a hand and seized his free arm. "Don't," she breathed, the desperation and fearfulness seeping back into her tone. "Please don't." Yet the sheriff seemed single-minded and determined as he roughly shoved off her advances, tossing her aside as if she meant no more to him than a menial and bothersome beggar on the street. For a moment she was purely and unadulteratedly shocked, glued to the spot, though like a puppet attached to him on a string, as he purposefully strode from the room she followed in a hasty, clumsy scurry. Before she could even stop herself, she cried in a tearful angst that she'd never before known, "Take me instead!" The words seemed to hang in the air like bullets themselves, halting him in the doorway as she gazed at his back with wild, reckless emerald eyes. "Hurt me. Hit me. Kick me, scratch me, curse me, beat me." She stumbled forward, totally breathless and completely unhinged, her cheeks flushed and stained with tears as her heaving chest hovered inches from his still, stoic back. "I deserve it." She added quietly, earnestly, before a broken sob left her lips, seeming to stem from the deepest depths of her soul as she whispered in pure anguish, "Just please…please don't leave me." It was a simple request, the one thing she had the will to still want, to still hope for. "Don't do this, don't go…stay with me…Nathan…" She was shamelessly and unabashedly begging, pleading in a manner that was nothing short of pathetic.

But he left.

The door slammed, and never had she heard a crueler sound. It could've been seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, even years she stared at the back of that cold, unfeeling wooden panel, waiting like a singularly devoted dog for it to swing back open and her only reason for living to return. Time paled in comparison to her love. But nothing happened and slowly, slowly the strength seeped from her body, as did her spirit. Jeanine sank to her knees, crumbling like a once glorified and revered monument after centuries of merciless weathering and erosion. She could no longer take the strain standing. The sounds of her heart being picked apart piece by piece echoed throughout the small home, eerie and haunting in their tone, staining the walls with the depth of their despair. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs wracked her body as she listlessly dropped over onto her side, lying beaten and broken in the middle of the house he'd built for their love. Her tears seemed to burn straight through the floor as they dripped down her face, and she held herself tightly, desperately, clamping her eyes shut to imagine it was his arms around her. The sands of time slid grain by torturous grain through the hourglass, though eventually all possible tears had been shed, each miserable and anguished cry had ripped her throat raw to the point that she could no longer produce a single sound. She dragged herself toward the opposite wall until her fingertips nearly bled, sitting up painstakingly slowly. In due course she was able to push herself to her feet, and in the empty spot designated for her piano she numbly, statuesquely stood. The bloody red and bright orange hues of sunset danced morbidly across sallow, haunted features as Jeanine silently awaited whatever was to come, be it life or death or something somewhere in between, her unseeing eyes trained straight ahead out the western window.

All was lost.

[Nathan LaHaye]

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UP IN FLAMES
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nathan & jeanine

October 3rd, 1869
Evening; after sundown

Feeling broken and bruised, quite literally and figuratively speaking, Nathan slowly made his way back out to the house hoping that Jeanine would still be there. There would be no surprise if she was already gone though, not with how he had left her behind. He had said not a word to her, not after she had confessed to him of her infidelity. Not even so much as a subtle hint had been tossed her way that he would be coming back, if ever even. Nathan was worn out, although the adrenaline continued to pump through his veins - or perhaps that was just the alcohol. Either way Nathan now had the time to think, as on the way into town his thoughts had been on only that of one thing. Well, now that Nathan had taken care of that 'one thing' there was a lot else he needed to speculate on. He was having difficulty thinking straight, however, as Nathan had never been one to really ever share his inner most thoughts or feelings. Not really even to himself. Usually he just took those feelings and shoved them inside, burying them deeper and deeper. So when Jeanine had come to him Nathan had shut down which in turn shut her out.

The very emotion that could cause such heartbreak usually turned out to be the one only that could heal it. Such was that in this case, but Nathan didn't want to be healed. He was still upset, although not near as outraged as before, but he wanted to keep it that way at least for now. He wasn't ready to let go of his anger. It was strange really since Nathan almost enjoyed the feeling. Everything, even that of the past, that had been simmering inside of him and then it had all boiled over all at once. There had been no chance of holding it all back even if he had wanted to. Shockingly, it had turned into violence and unfortunate for Gabe he turned out to be Nathan's outlet for it all. After having left Jeanine behind, and with his gun in hand, Nathan had rode into town on a mission. The saloon had been his destination, knowing that sooner or later Gabe would show up. As he waited Nathan even kicked back a few or more shots of whiskey, which was not something he did often. It hadn't been enough to have gotten him extensively drunk, but it had been more than enough to impair his thought process. When Gabe had arrived Nathan gave no warning as he turned around and punched him, knocking him to the ground. The fiasco was moved outside to where little to no harm would be done to anyone else. The two of them duked it out, while Nathan yelled out words of disgust and even threw in a few curse words.

The fight had been broken up, how and by whom Nathan couldn't rightfully remember. Gabe had fought back, Nathan had expected so, although he deserved all he had got. In return Nathan had received a few cuts and bruises from the brawl. His body ached all over, his knuckles were swollen, and above his eye he felt a stinging sensation. There was a small amount of blood on his shirt, who's it was he had not a clue, except for that on his sleeve which every now and then Nathan used to wipe away at the blood which trickled down from his nose. After the two had gone their separate ways Nathan wanted to go lie down on his cot and sleep until morning, but instead he had to go Jeanine. They needed to talk, needed to work things out or at least figure out where they would go from here.

As he rounded a hill Nathan looked up knowing that from where he was the house could be seen in the distance. But the sun had already set and there was no light reflecting in the windows. Sighing heavily as his shoulders began to sag Nathan knew that more than likely it meant that Jeanine was no longer there. He had thought to turn Duke around then and head straight back for town. If she wasn't out here then she had to be back in town, perhaps back home with Jillian and Owen. Did they know what happened? Surely Jillian did since the two sisters shared a lot with each other. Nathan knew one thing for sure though, he would not be telling anyone close to him. Not Jane, not his mother or Wyatt. Nobody. There was no need for them to know since it was just between Jeanine and himself.

Nathan reined Duke towards the direction of the well as he needed to wash up before he did anything else. He was still unsure if he would be riding back to town tonight or if he should wait until tomorrow. It would give them both some time to think on what they both really wanted. Also Nathan was sure he'd be able to produce more coherent thoughts - his words might make a bit more sense, since obviously he was only somewhat inebriated at the moment. Once the bucket had been dropped and filled with water Nathan made his way back to the front door. He had completely forgotten Duke who was now roaming freely on patches of dry grass. Nathan did however take notice of Piper. He stopped for a moment to look at the horse before realizing that it meant Jeanine might still be inside. Looking back and forth from the horse to the door Nathan contemplated on whether or not he should continue on his way. He was still angry at himself and disappointed in Jeanine. Any words that could and would pour forth from his lips might only make matters worse.

Deciding to take that chance Nathan walked inside without so much as announcing that he had arrived. Instead he made his way to the table, which is where he set the bucket, before retrieving a towel from the kitchen. Then after lighting a nearby oil lamp Nathan slumped down into one of the empty chairs and began to wash away the dirt and dried blood from his hands.

[Jeanine Stanton]

---------------------------
UP IN FLAMES
---------------------------
nathan & jeanine



October 3rd, 1869
late evening

- - -

Eventually the bright, bloody sun sunk beneath the dwindling line of the horizon and Jeanine was shrouded in the cold, comfortless embrace of night, her surroundings as dark as her broken heart. Regardless of being able to see absolutely nothing beyond the glass pane of the window due to the blackness that veiled the outside world, she remained totally still and lifeless, a stony statue whose beauty and magnificence had dwindled and faded after centuries of cracks, strain, weathering. There was no reason for her to stay there, but also no reason to go - no reason to do anything, really, when he wasn't there. For so long she'd been deathly afraid of attachment or connection to a man beyond one night of reckless and carefree fun, she had religiously evaded commitment and it had never hurt or spurned her. Everyone praised love, talked of its everlasting greatness and glory, and until recently she hadn't bought a single line of it. She'd scoffed in the face of such sentimentality and swore she would never fall victim to such a fool's sort of crime, but in the end, she too had surrendered to its allure. It was too early to say whether she would have regrets or not, for though she now experienced agonizing pain that surpassed anything she'd ever known, love had provided her with the two happiest years of her life and it was those memories she played in her mind's eye. His smile, his laugh, his eyes, the way he said her name and the feel of his lips against her own, how he looked at her like she was the single most remarkable thing he'd ever laid eyes upon. The recollections were bittersweet but all she had to hold on to, the only way to cushion and cocoon herself from suffocating, excruciating heartache.

The sensible thing would have been just to accept defeat and go on her less-than-merry way, leave this dark and empty, loveless little home to its suffocating solitude. There was no longer anything for her here, no sense in lingering or wallowing in what once was. Yet the despondent musician simply could not bring herself to move, some invisible force was compelling her to stay put in that same spot. Every time she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath with a little more purpose than the last and told herself she was going to just walk out the door, get on her horse and go, she only got so far as an involuntary twitch of a finger or very slight stirring of a foot. Whether she would admit it or not, Jeanine was bound to the man who had built these four walls just for her and though he had abandoned her, she could never do the same to him. He'd had every right to leave, there was no disputing that and she certainly wouldn't go feeling sorry for herself because she'd brought about this twisted situation all of her own accord. And though the sinful event itself she would take back in a heartbeat, she could not claim to feel repentant of telling the truth. Nathan had deserved to know, and even though their life together was no more, it would have been infinitely worse to spend endless years in his company with the knowledge that such a stain tarnished the purity of their relationship. She a cheater, she was now alone and she was broken, but she was not and never would be a liar.

It was impossible to quantify how much time had passed, it could have been years upon years for all she knew, but a sensation similar to rebirth swept throughout her body as suddenly she heard the door creak open and familiar footsteps on the floor. Jeanine's breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat stalled and stuttered, and motion miraculously seemed to be restored to her limbs as she revolved on her heels with wide, hopeful and expectant emerald orbs. Could it be…? He was back - he'd come back! She wanted to drop to her knees and cry out yet again, this time out of relief and joy, to run to him and curl around him like vines on a trellis. However, the respite from misery and woe was temporary, short-lived. Though she'd already shed enough tears to start a dried up river flowing just in that single evening, the broken brunette felt that familiar stinging behind her eyes at the sight that greeted her. The man she so completely, devotedly and irrevocably loved was beaten and bloodied, covered in cuts and bruises that hurt her just to look at. A shocked, shaky gasp fell from her lips and a dainty hand flew up to cover her open mouth, quelling a more audible sound of horror. Her gut instinct was to rush to his aid, and she took a hasty step forward, though his complete and utter denial of her mere presence was enough to stop her in her tracks. Nathan didn't so much as glance in her direction, as though she wasn't worth the time or effort of a look - as if she blended in with the very walls themselves.

Her alert, alarmed jade eyes followed his every move as he shuffled over into the kitchen, fetched a single towel, lit an oil lamp and then dropped a tin bucket full of water onto the tabletop, collapsing into a chair as though he hadn't had the chance to sit in days. A painful pang ached in her chest as she stared at the back of his head, able to make out from where she stood stains of dirt and blood covering his clothes, no doubt from a brawl with the man who had known her in a way that only Nathan himself was privy to, as her fiancé and future husband. That is, if he still wished to make her his wife. But she pushed aside such torturously distracting thoughts in favor of fixing up her man, who was beaten and broken, inside and out, in ways that only she saw herself fit to heal. Hesitating no longer, Jeanine moved to stand beside his chair, simply lingering there for a moment. Though she remained silent, she waited before taking action as if to allow him the opportunity to remember she was even there, to realize that she was right by his side, as she wished to be forever and always. Her hand no longer trembled or quaked as she reached out to gently place it atop his, though she inhaled sharply as he jerked away from her touch, as if she had burned him. That simple but very clear gesture of contempt cut her deep, clear to the core, and it took every last ounce of willpower she possessed not to allow it to turn her away with tears in her eyes and thorns in her heart. Once again she simply stood there, the rhythmic rise and fall of their breathing the only audible sound in the room as she was afraid to do or say anything more.

But it was not in the nature of a Stanton to give up, and no matter how he spurned or turned her away, she would keep ramming her head up against his walls like an angry, determined bull until he let her back in. A trace of that old fiery flame igniting in the depths of her emerald eyes, Jeanine swiftly stalked over to the other side of the table, gripped its wooden edge and pulled with all her might, utilizing every last drop of strength in her slender body. She nearly stumbled backward with the force of it, but she attained her goal as the table was dragged away from him a few feet, preventing him from continuing his use of the towel or bucket and pretty much bullying him into acknowledging her presence. She did not take well to being ignored, as they both were well aware of. The stubborn songstress took a moment to catch her breath, eyeing him from across the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest, like a lion and lioness relentlessly appraising one another to see who would cave first. Brushing the stray strands of auburn hair out of her eyes, in a few quick strides she made her way around the uprooted wooden object and was soon standing in the newly created space between his knees and the table. A pause, then she lowered herself onto her knees before him, making it virtually impossible for him to avoid the probing soul search of her intuitive, intelligent green gaze. "Don't punish yourself," Jeanine finally shattered the silence in a quiet but ardent tone, her own features softening as she searched his. There was a nasty cut above his left eye and clearly his nose had been the victim of a bloody assault, but other than that his face seemed better off than the rest of his body. She yearned to take away his pain, and there was only one way she knew how. "Let me take care of you…please." There was a gentle desperation to her tone, barely above a whisper, that spoke volumes beyond what she could ever convey in words.

Another brief moment's hesitation, before Jeanine slowly reached out once again, her fingers featherlight and barely there as she sought to gently pry the moistened towel from his own. Relief flooded her as he allowed her to do so, though the true question remained unanswered - though she'd touched another man, would he let her touch him, attend to him, care for him when he so clearly needed it? Still moving at a slow, cautious and careful pace, she lightly held his hands within her own as she cleansed them of all dirt and blood. She gave his arms all the way up his elbows the same treatment, patient and mild in her ministrations, a warmth and tenderness to her touch that transcended verbal communication and so she said not a word. Having set the bucket down on the floor beside her, the musician turned nurse submerged the cloth in the water once again, wringing it out before rising to her feet in order to address the state of his face. Jeanine's fingertips gently brushed his cheek as she lightly pressed the towel to the opposite one, soothing the dirty and tarnished skin, all the while hoping that he wouldn't suspect her treatment as an excuse to touch him and push her away as a result. Finally she came to the cut above his eye, and she hesitated, murmuring softly, "This may sting a bit." She ever so gently pressed the damp material to the injury, her hand brushing against his as she did so, and after briefly meeting his eyes she entwined their fingers. Lifting his palm to her lips, she whispered against his skin, "I'm sorry." Whether she was apologizing for the inevitable pain of cleaning his wound or the entire situation in and of itself was unclear, but the true anguished remorse was striking and sincere in the depths of her vividly green eyes.

While it seemed that she had addressed all visibly injured parts of him, Jeanine strongly suspected that a few cuts and bruises were hiding beneath his bloodied shirt, though she was unsure if he would allow her to investigate. She dropped the cloth back into the bucket with a soft plop, and then simply stood still before him for a moment, searching those baby blues for any readable feeling or emotion. She reached out and touched his hand, before trailing featherlight fingers up his arm, across his shoulder and to the collar of his shirt. A question in her eyes, she gently placed a knee between his legs, balancing herself on the very edge of the chair so she was able to lean in closer, hovering above him. When he showed no signs of protest or struggle, she popped the first button of his shirt with bated breath, expecting him to shove her away at any given moment. Though thankfully he did not, yet when she got half-way finished with the buttons, she almost wished he had. Purple bruises of varying shades riddled the expanse of his chiseled chest, along with small cuts and scratches. Jeanine hesitated for a moment and inhaled a deep, shaky breath before continuing, until warm and loving hands gently pushed the dirty shirt from his shoulders. A single tear slid down her flushed cheek and dropped on to his chest, though she kept all other signs of sadness at bay as she met his eyes, deep emerald meshing with light blue. The tips of her fingers, light and barely even there, caressed his damaged skin before she pressed her warm palm flat over his beating heart. "Where do we go from here?" Jeanine uttered softly, her tone tender and a bit breathless due to their closeness as her free hand gently soothed the warm, damp cloth over his bruises.

[Nathan LaHaye]

---------------------------
UP IN FLAMES
---------------------------
nathan & jeanine

October 3rd, 1869
Late evening

Within the depths of Nathan's heart a flame of love had burned strong and true, but for now it had been replaced with a cold dark loneliness. He was confused, drowning in an overflowing river of mixed and distinct emotions. Disgust towards Gabe and for what he had soiled between himself and the only woman he had ever and would ever love. Even though Nathan had already gone into town and confronted the worthless man he still felt that piercing feeling of animosity. Adoration for Jeanine, even having broken his heart she was the only woman he had confessed true feelings and utter devotion to. That would never change. But it was Nathan's fear that overpowered all else. The fear of the unknown of what might or might not be. Put it all together and it created a recipe for calamity. Nathan's mind was bouncing back and forth, to and fro, not really sure where to stop or even begin. It was a challenge to say the least for him to catch a grip and actually focus while trying to clean his fresh seeping wounds. Upon first walking in Nathan had not sensed Jeanine's presence. Not even after he had sat down with rag in hand. He was worn out, too tired to think, yet his mind would not allow him the pleasure of rest. Was he just to forgive and forget? Move on as if nothing happened? Nathan wasn't so sure he could do that, but their love was strong even if it seemed to have faltered somewhere along the way. It would take some time, but exactly how long Nathan wasn't so sure. He wanted to be bitter, infuriated and resentful towards her for having been with another man, but it was impossible. It wasn't her fault. It was his own. Nathan had nobody to blame but himself.

Slowly, heavily letting out a deep discontented sigh Nathan continued to brush the rag against his tarnished skin. With every passing moment, sitting there with images that he wished would leave his mind forever, Nathan grew more and more furious with himself. He was about to throw the rag across the room, knock the bucket over, possibly even the whole table altogether. Yet just as his hand curled into a fist around the dirt rag Nathan felt Jeanine near him. He sat there, stiff and rigid, daring not to move. With her there he couldn't react in such a fit of outrage. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Jeanine, scare her away forever despite the fact it's what he deserved. No longer was he sure that he was fit to be her husband. Not if he couldn't provide Jeanine with everything she would ever need or want. They weren't even married yet, though it was near, and already he'd disproved his worth to her. When it all boiled down it came to one motion. Not if he would be willing to accept her back, but the other way. Would Jeanine be able to forgive him for having neglected her? He would not blame her if she walked away without so much as looking back.

Jeanine stood so close to him yet he felt as if she were a million miles away. He missed the sound of her voice, the rush of her skin against his own even though it had only been a few hours since he had last embraced her. However, as she tenderly reached out to him Nathan jerked away, turned himself around and rested his elbows upon the table. He didn't deserve her love, her care or anything else for that matter. She must have read straight through him though, noticing that he was exiling himself into a lonely drab corner. The very last thing he had expected was for Jeanine to retaliate and force his attention upon her. Nathan failed to notice as she walked around the table before yanking it out and away from him. He stumbled forward as the table had been his resting place for the moment. Looking up to her Nathan's eyes narrowed into a baited glare, adding annoyance into the mix. He wished to wallow away in his own sorrow and Jeanine appeared to be doing her darnedest to keep him from doing just that. Even as she broke off from their silent prowling dispute and moved out from the other side of the table Nathan's hazy blue eyes bore into her, daring her to go ahead and try to make another audacious stunt. He wasn't in any sort of mood to play any of her silly games.

When one's heart was broken, the whole world turned black because there was no joy, no happiness, no brightness, and you become mired in the very center of this deep, chocking misery that doesn't seem to have any end. Nathan wanted to be left alone, to drown in his foolish mistake, but Jeanine seemingly would have none of it. As she lowered herself to her knees before him Nathan looked away, but only to glance back down at her as she spoke up in a hushed but frevelent tone. There was no use fighting it, trying to push her away. He gave a simple gesture to comply in the form of a lowly breath before relaxing back in the chair. Still Nathan said nothing as he was afraid of what words might pour forth from his mouth so instead he kept quiet as she looked him over. At the touch of her hand Nathan's skin burned, yet it was very much desired. He yearned to hold her close and speak words of comfort letting her know that they'd get past it all, despite the fact only seconds ago he had wanted to keep away from her. However Nathan continued to sit still whiel watching Jeanine with an intense stare, keeping with her as her skillful hands washed away the dirt and blood.

Once Jeanine stood up to address the status of his face Nathan looked upward, letting his eyes roam over her most delicate features. She truly was a sight to behold, more beautiful than any other woman he had ever laid eyes on, even with the state she was in with her puffy eyes and rose colored nose. Nathan wondered if he would have to fight in order to keep her for himself for the rest of their lives. It was something he was more than willing to do, which he had already done thus night with nearly half the town in attendance. Having been lost in thought, enthralled in her beauty, Nathan had failed to hear her give warning. As the rag was pressed to the cut above his eye Nathan winced, as for the first time that night he felt some sort of physical pain. Then he felt it all. The muscles in his arms twinged, his ribs ached with every lapse of breath and his nose felt as if it where throbbing in affliction. The cool air though, rushing against his skin as Jeanine went ahead and removed his shirt, was very much welcomed. Nathan noticed the single tear which had trickled down her cheek and landed upon his exposed chest. He looked up once more, his acute eyes turning soft, before lifting a worn hand and placing it upon her own which hovered over his heart. Her question had stumped him. Nathan wasn't oftentimes good with words, or at least it's how he saw it. How could he sum up all he had been thinking, all he had felt with this situation?

Nathan stood up before cupping each side of her face lightly, the pads of his thumb gently smoothed against her skin. "I love ya Jeanine. Nothin' will ever change that. We have nowhere t'go but forward with our lives.. together." For being near inebriated his words came out solid. Not much else was needed to be said, at least for now, so in sealing his words in promise Nathan leaned down and kissed Jeanine heavily. When they parted, in need of some air, Nathan's demeanor had changed, his eyes darkening into a deeper blue. He couldn't help himself as Gabe kept creeping his way into Nathan's thoughts. "I let the bastard have it." Leaning forward Nathan rested his forehead against Jeanine's with a near grin dancing upon his lips. "He'll never touch ya again. I swear it." Nathan had to erase any and all memories that she might remotely even remember about the despicable man. He didn't want there to be any lingering traces of him left anywhere on her. He needed to show her that he could be all she ever needed. Nathan knew of only one way to make her forget and remember what they had shared as he began to walk forward while holding her securely by the shoulders, forcing Jeanine to walk backwards until she was caught between him and the wall. "Dammit Jeanine.. Yer mine.. only mine and that ain't ever goin' t'change."

[Jeanine Stanton]

you smile, you smile
oh and then the spell will cast
and here we are in heaven
for you are mine...
at last
- - -



november 15th, 1869

- - -

In the late Fall of 1867, if the young, restless and reckless Jeanine Stanton had been told that in two years's time she would be answering to a new last name, she would have thrown her fiery reddish-brown head back and laughed, just laughed, because there was no way in hell any man would ever have her hand. She'd been wild and free as the western wind itself, the dazzling radiance of sunshine, beguiling mystery of night and everything in between. She'd had no time for trifling things such as love and commitment, there was too much life to be lived for that, too much of the world she hadn't explored. Being tied down was absolutely out of the question, she had never met anyone worth wasting her days away trying to constantly placate and please, playing the cliched and overrated role of the housewife, the provider, the beaming and bustling force behind the kitchen. In her bright, colorful and chaotic mind, that was no life - that was a death sentence. There was no life in letting a man have your mind, your body, your soul and your heart.

But over time, a rain of realization had washed away that misguided notion, just as the rain had revealed to her a handsome man of tall stature, strong build and baby blue eyes, silently watching her twirl about the muddy earth in a dress as white as the one she would wear on their wedding day. Their eyes had met, twin breaths held at bay, and in that beautiful blessed moment she would later come to believe to be sheer decided fate, some part of her had known. It had not been love at first sight, but something much deeper. She had smiled that day, looking upon the stoic face of Nathan LaHaye, because beyond those walls of withheld emotion and sober, serious solemnity was the answer to the call she had not known her heart was so ardently making.

Two years and one very long, winding road later, she couldn't possibly imagine living without the man now seated beside her, one hand on the reigns of the horses leading their wagon and the other, as always, holding her heart. "Ah ha! See, I told you," Jeanine boisterously proclaimed, her trademark light and luminous smile spreading across her faintly flushed features as she sat half-on his lap, reclining against his chest, her lips brushing their favorite spot on his stubbled cheek as she murmured in a much softer, amused tone, "We'll be finding sand in our clothes for the next month." Withdrawing one of her hands, which had been doing some roaming they probably shouldn't have, from his pants pocket, she sifted grainy sand between piano-playing fingers and contemplated its slight weight in her palm. It was an impromptu souvenir, at the very least. A week in heaven along the sunny shores of San Francisco, California and they hadn't left their hotel room enough to acquire much of anything else.

But to be honest, she didn't really care that they had spent a week in a beautiful, luxurious city that they would probably never visit again doing something they could've very well done anywhere. In fact, it really made no difference where they were or what they were doing, so long as he was by her side. After all, she was Jeanine LaHaye now, as she'd stood in front of the mirror and repeated to herself over and over just because she liked the sound of it. But she liked it even more rolling from the tip of his tongue. Jeanine tossed the palmful of sand into the wind - she'd undoubtedly find more later, right? - in favor of loosely looping one arm around his neck, the other hand resting on his chest just above his heart, tracing little designs into his shirt with her index finger. She pressed a series of light and loving kisses to his mouth, smiling against his lips as she breathed between playful pecks, "Tell me again." Nathan would undoubtedly know what she was talking about, she had spent the last two weeks asking him to say her new name at least twice a day, and enacting various forms of not-so-torturous torture if he refused. "Or I'll make you sleep on a hard wooden chair in the kitchen tonight and take that big, comfy and warm bed all for myself." she said in as serious a tone as she could muster, pulling back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes as the tips of their noses brushed and she struggled to keep a straight face. "I call the shots. Guess I forgot to mention that at the altar, huh?" Unable to hold her stoic expression any longer, Jeanine cracked a wide grin and giggled softly, kissing his cheek and stealing his stetson all in one fell swoop. They may have been newly deemed husband and wife, but nothing was going to stop her from teasing him in every sense of the term, now and for the rest of their long, happy life together.

[Nathan LaHaye]

november 15th, 1869

San Francisco and it's beaches had been quite unlike anything Nathan had ever experienced or even seen before. It was said to be the tenth largest city in all of the United States. Easily believable as everywhere one looked there were hotels, restaurants, parks, churches, synagogues, schools, libraries and academies. Every building seemed to be taller than the last and the people--they were everywhere. It was inevitable, while walking down the street, to not bump a few shoulders with the passing strangers. No apologies would be exchanged as they would just continue on their way as if nothing had happened at all, save for on a few occasions when someone would glare back at Nathan as if it had been his own plan of attack. But what had surprised him even further was the room in which they spent nearly their entire honeymoon in. Everything had been so extravagant compared to what they had at home. Bright colorful paintings of every possible scene decorated the walls, there was carpet lined from wall to wall, laid back lounge chairs and a couch, plush pillows, a cast iron bath tub lined with porcelain and a high quality cotton stitched bed with hand-carved head and foot boards along with a luxurious bedspread and feathered pillows. It had all been enjoyable to say the least, but Nathan found himself worrying all too often if Jeanine would lose that bright-eyed smile which seemed to constantly dance across her delicate features once they would return home. She once had high hopes for living in the big city, performing on the big stage with her name spelt out in lights on the busy street. Her life now was anything but, so Nathan found himself throughout their vacation, looking to her in silent wonder, contemplating if it was still the life she wanted.

Apart from his strain of worry Nathan found himself enjoying at least some of the things the city has to offer. Like the food, half of which seemed foreign to him, but he made an attempt to try all that he could. Then there was the beach. Nathan had never seen such a large body of water before. He had heard of its beauty before from those which had walked it's sandy shore, but never would he have imagined it to be quite so spellbinding. The call of the birds flying over head, the bout of fresh air and the rush of waves that hit the beach. It all came together so well, yet nothing had been more beautiful than his wife who seemed to be just as enchanted as he was by the scenery, singing and dancing barefoot along the shore with her hair auburn hair - free from any restraint - blowing in the salty breeze and treasure hunting for sea shells to bring back as souvenirs. Had Nathan not been needed back home in Buffalo Creek he could have stayed there on that beach for the rest of eternity watching his beloved as she captured his heart time and time again.

Their time in the city had come to an abrupt end which had Nathan feeling thankful yet mournful all at the same time. Now they were hitched up in the wagon with their travel trunks packed behind them on the flatbed heading home after such a long journey. They had not stayed long in town once they arrived by train as the two had been more than anxious enough to go home. Home. A gentle smile touched Nathan's lips as he looked to Jeanine who was wrapped securely within one of his sturdy arms, in shielding her from the cool Autumn air, while the other reigned the horses in the direction of their homestead. Thankfully the team knew their way across the plains as Jeanine was making it difficult for Nathan to focus on the trail ahead as she went exploring within the pockets of his pants. In reply to her declaration he let out a lowly chuckle and shook his head lightly. Jeanine was surely right about that as their trunks seemed twice as heavy coming home than they had been when they first headed out bound for the big city. No doubt they'd be finding sand for the next few weeks.

Even after having removed her hand Jeanine continued to distract him with warm and tender kisses, which he freely returned each one. When she asked him to 'tell her again' Nathan reflect a hearty smirk as he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. He couldn't quite help himself but to laugh out loud at her plan of suffering had he planned on refusing her request. Jeanine was bluffing and Nathan knew this, but still he would give in to her recurring demand as he too took pleasure in hearing her newly pronounced name. "Yer t'be callin' the shots now?" he questioned her with a raised eyebrow, "well in that case we're doomed." Nathan did his best to appear in distress with a lopsided frown, which threatened to break out inside a smile, as if the world would soon come to an end. "But we can't be havin' ever'body in town knowin' that Jeanine LaHaye is now the one in charge. There will be chaos and people will question my authority." What good was a sheriff if he couldn't make his own decisions, although of course his words were all in good fun.

Once Nathan took the time to look about in where they were located he spotted the bend which would be where they would take their last turn and just a half mile later come to a halt before their house. "Are ya excited as I am t'almost be home?" Pulling her in closer Nathan pressed a lingering kiss upon her template while giving her a light squeeze. He was more than ready to begin a new life with her by his side and even though they had been married for just over two weeks he found himself feeling more enthralled at the prospect of it all as the land which he had been working so hard on would be their way of life, where they would one day raise a family and grow old together through the coming years.

Nathan had been so caught up in thought, sitting there looking far off into the distance with a goofy smile upon his rugged features, that when he finally was brought back to current time he found them to be pulling up the way, past their fenced in acreage which would serve to keep their cattle and then the corral. "Well, here we are!" Nathan's voice rang out as he put on the brake and jumped down from the wagon. Once Jeanine followed suit Nathan grabbed up her hand and pulled her along before coming to a stop directly in front of the small house. "Home sweet home. What do ya think? Does it still appear satisfyin' enough?" Although his question was serious enough, for whatever reason feeling as if it might not reach her standards as before, Nathan couldn't wait any longer and in one swift motion he swooped Jeanine up and carried her the rest of the way towards the door, kicking it open and then stepping over the threshold. Before setting her down he made one turn around to get a look at everything. It was a bit cool inside, but Nathan would be able to fix that right up with a fire.

[Jeanine Stanton]

July 3rd, 1870
early evening

A damp and chilly sort of heaviness lingered in the heart of the normally bright and bubbly Mrs. Jeanine LaHaye as she stared down at her hands, her equally delicate and weathered hands that had once seemed so wise and useful but now felt futile and worthless. With these hands she had done some of the most important things in her life - she had first touched the keys of a piano and scribbled the lyrics to a song with chubby childlike fingertips; she had stroked the mane of her faithful, beloved horse with smooth, curious palms; she had slipped the beautiful ring from the love of her life onto an elegant finger, feeling as though the rest of her days would be filled with the sort of all-encompassing joy swelling in her chest at that moment because she would be spending them with him. And that inclination had not been wrong, she was married to the most wonderful man. He was kind and selfless with a heart of pure gold, strong and handsome with light blue eyes that made her melt, each day he never ceased to amaze her and she suspected that would never change, no matter how much time they were blessed to spend together.

Put quite frankly, Nathan LaHaye seemed like he had been born to be married. He was the sort of husband that other women dreamed of, read about in heady romance novels and longed for in place of their inattentive ones who took them for granted and ordered them around like a mindless pack mule. She saw the envy in the eyes of the other women when they walked through town together, smiling and laughing, he taking her hand without prompting and looking at her in a way that never ceased to steal her breath. But it wasn’t just in public that he was the picture perfect partner, he wasn’t putting on a show, he was even more loving and sweet behind closed doors and even after almost eight months of marriage, the honeymoon period was still in full force for them. They could hardly keep their hands off of one another, there seemed to be a permanent rosy flush to her cheeks and a perpetual youthful, radiant glow to her skin from all the love they’d been making on every possible surface in their small but cozy home.

There was no disputing the fact that she was lucky, Jeanine certainly knew this and counted her blessings daily. But this particular Friday evening, standing in her disaster of a kitchen with flour, cooking oil and hopelessness permeating the air, she felt like it was all too much - what had she done to deserve this life? What could she possibly have done to deserve such an incredible man, one that seemed to have written the book on marriage? She realized she was a little bit jealous. Had Nathan had previous practice at the whole husband thing that she was just wasn’t aware of? The notion was ridiculous and she shoved it aside immediately, heaving a sigh followed by a groan as another wave of nausea washed over her. She had been feeling queasy a lot lately, and her limbs felt heavy for some reason, a soreness and fatigue weighing down her usually lithe body. She had assumed it was some kind of summer cold or flu, surely nothing out of the ordinary, so she had set out to town earlier that afternoon to stop by the mercantile and get a few herbs and some tea, natural remedies that Jillian had told her about.

After completing her mission, the auburn-haired songstress had contemplated stopping by her husband’s office just to say hello, take his mind off of work for a little while. But before she could act on this whim, she heard her name being called and revolved on her heel, only to wish she hadn’t turned around at all. It was Tilly Walters, that smug and condescending prude who, for God knows what reason, seemed to be good friends with her sister and was always hanging around the tailor shop with her obnoxious litter of puppies - er, children - and prattling on about her husband’s ‘important’ job at the bank. Just the high pitch of the woman’s voice seemed to grate against the inside of Jeanine’s skull, for she was everything that the musician loathed in the female persuasion - gossiping, self-absorbed, nosy and completely snobbish. She swore if Tilly’s head was stuck much further up her rear, she’d form a perfect circle. Still the woman seemed to think she and Jeanine were good chums, or at least, she pretended as much so she could gloat and pry.

The usual suffocatingly one-sided conversation ensued, though just as Jeanine was trying to make her escape, Mrs. Walters said something that made her already rosy cheeks flush with indignation. So Jeanie, my dear, how are you adjusting to married life? Surely a woman of your erm, free-spirited nature must have some aversion to settling down, and let’s face it, we all know the sheriff is a traditional man! We all thought he’d end up with someone more-- Unable to keep her cool any longer, Jeanine stopped and whirled around to face Tilly with eyes crackling like green flames. “What, someone more like you? A woman who lives for cooking her husband’s favorite meal, dusting every crevice of her lavish home, boasting about her stupid pinafore-sewing daughters and laces her corset tighter than a shackle? Well, this may be a surprise to you coming from the town harlot, but I love my husband and I am devoted to him in every way, and you can be sure I don’t need your prissy approval to know that I am a damn good wife!” Sizzling with outrage and resentment, she stalked away toward where she’d tied up her horse, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the passersby who had witnessed her little outburst.

Upon arriving home, Jeanine had felt sicker than ever, her stomach churning like the wild waters of an ocean in the midst of a tsunami. After whatever remnants of her lunch that had been sloshing around in there resurfaced in the outhouse, she weakly and sluggishly dragged herself back inside and leaned against the door until she felt steady again. Her eyes were drawn to the kitchen, a place she loathed and religiously avoided, but it occurred to her that she should at least make a veritable effort to be a decent housewife. It wasn’t her life’s work or occupation by any means, but she did feel a pang of obligation, especially since Nathan was so proficient in all things husband-related. A new sense of determination overcoming her, she marched into the kitchen and vowed to greet her man with a delicious meal when he arrived home after a long day of serving the town. The next two hours were spent cursing at cooking utensils and battling the recipe book her mother-in-law had so generously made for her, and as the time trickled by she felt increasingly hopeless, her last bit of resolve broken by the burnt demise of her pie. In a fleeting fit of anger, she threw the failed creation at the wall and watched it slide down in a red sticky mess, feeling moisture build behind her eyes and begin to sting, blurring her vision. “God, what am I doing?” She uttered in the form of a soft, trembling sob, another surge of queasiness assaulting her as she seized a damp rag and set out to clean the mess she’d made. Once that was accomplished, Jeanine numbly leaned against the counter, almost doubled over, her hands gripping the edge as she stared at the ring on her finger. The last rays of light cast by the setting sun illuminated her red-tinted locks and she inhaled a deep breath, moving one hand to rest atop her agitated stomach as she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable sound of the door opening and yielding to the footsteps of the man she was so unworthy of.