Feral Darlings

Chapter Four

The steam rises from the water in the large, copper bathtub as I tip the last bucket into it.

I know that I should probably get some rest since Silas is unpredictable, but that ’ s also what I ’ m counting on. Plus, if he brings Elyse, I want to make sure that I look my best, I think as I grip the sides, then lower myself into the hot water.

I wince slightly as the hot water stings my skin. I guess I didn ’ t pay too much attention when I boiled the last bucket full, though I don ’ t mind the brief moments of pain since they ’ re nothing like what I ’ ve been feeling, being left here all alone.

Some Sheriff, I muse with a chuckle as I cup my hands and fill them with hot water. Not a care in the world for anyone ’ s safety. Truth be told, they earned my turning my back on them—something they ’ ll realize when it ’ s far too late to make amends.

After scooping a few handfuls of water over my head, I lean back and extend my legs as best as I can. I ’ m much too tall for this bathtub, and staying in it for too long can become uncomfortable, but Elyse loved it, and when we bathed together, holding her body against mine while she basked in the steam is something that I miss desperately.

I close my eyes and relax as much as I can.

Daylight is coming soon, and maybe I ’ ll take a walk through the town while everyone else recovers from the debaucherous activities of tonight.

Or maybe I ’ ll just leave them alone, hoping beyond all hope that Silas and his outlaws will be back soon and willing to do the dirty work for me.

“ Do you remember the first time we met?”

I chuckle, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Elyse still hasn ’ t let me live it down, and I doubt she will.

“ Yep,” I begin with a sly smile. “ And if I forget, you make sure to remind me every chance you get.”

She laughs and glances at me, holding my eyes for a moment before pushing her walnut-brown hair behind her ears. With a shrug, she stretches her legs in front of her and leans forward, wrapping her hands around her bare feet, then lets out a sigh of contentment. When she straightens back up, she falls back on the palms of her hands, crosses her legs at the ankles, then looks at me again.

“ I don ’ t mean to keep bringing it up, Boone,” she finally says after a few moments of thoughtful silence. “ I just think that fate has a weird way of bringing people together sometimes.”

There she goes with her superstitions, I think with a head shake as I rub my stubbly chin. Elyse firmly believes that there ’ s more to life than what we walk through every day. She thinks that fate is something tied to all of us, and the paths that we choose to walk are pre-destined and not just happened upon.

I believe in what I can see and hear, but I let her speak her mind on the matter when she wants to, and am careful not to push what I believe in, or rather don ’ t, on her. It ’ s not my place to burst whatever bubble she may be living in.

Besides, she might be right, and I could be wrong, or vice versa. I just never felt that bumping heads over superstitions, or lack thereof, ever did much good.

Either way—

THUMP!

A loud sound startles me out of the nap I inadvertently seemed to have slipped into.

The wet rag falls from my eyes as I rip it away and sit up, glancing at the bathroom door. It almost sounds like someone is in my house, but who would be so foolish?

There ’ s only one way to find out, I tell myself as I carefully get to my feet, step out of the tub, and head for the bathroom door.

I quickly dress myself as best as I can, dripping wet and completely uncomfortable with the sweaty clothes sticking to my body almost immediately.

I realize through grit teeth that my gun is in the other room, loosely holstered to my belt, and I ’ ve got nothing handy to defend myself with.

With a shake of my head, I quietly make my way out of the bathroom and down the narrow hallway, then peer around the wall into the front room.

The figure is small and huddled, trying to start a fire in the makeshift fire pit I made for Elyse. A grunt of frustration escapes it as it keeps hurdling small sticks into the minimal blaze as I watch.

But watching has never done much for anyone in this town before, and the only person that I need to mind here is myself.

Stepping out of the hallway, I rush into the front room and grab the small figure by the shoulders, lifting it, then whipping it around to face me.

Only, it ’ s not the monster I think it is.