She loved the feel of Tarr's lips on hers. The loving gesture was all too brief for Sarah though, and with blue eyes closed, she followed Tarr's lips in protest when he pulled away. They were on there way out, Tarr checking his pocket watch to make sure they didn't miss Tea's train, when the trio heard a familiar sultry voice. It startled Sarah, and she whirled around to face Galatea with wide eyes.
"Tea!" She exclaimed, feeling like she had to explain herself for not being there on time. And yet, not wanting to, because the explanation was none too pleasing. "We-we missed you. Could never forget you," she said with nervous laughter. She had trouble meeting the red-head's eyes, and Tea, being the intuitive one that she was, wasn't missing any signs from Sarah. She had always had trouble with lies and hiding things. She was relieved when her friend's arms wrapped themselves around her, genuinely overjoyed to have her back.
"I've missed you terribly," she said again, with much emotion. It didn't take long for Galatea to get right to business, noticing that Celeste should not have been in the saloon, and knowing exactly who to blame for her being there. Sarah was as equally lost for words as Tarquin was, not even bothering to try and fumble for something to say. She only sighed, shaking her head in a characteristic display of disappointment. Her fingers snaked their way in between Tarr's, and squeezed hard.
"Now, Tea," Sarah attempted to interject when she spoke of men's opinions of women. Doc wasn't that way, but she could very easily understand Galatea's frustration with the way he was behaving. He seemed to be playing the part of an arrogant player all too well. This was what she had meant about him not pushing Tea away. In truth, her brother deserved whatever Galatea saw fit to dish out to him tonight, and she fell silent. She let Tarr's hand slide from hers as he took off after Galatea, ready to mediate whatever may happen in the crowded saloon. Sarah felt utterly conflicted, and followed Tarr helplessly, torn between letting Celeste follow like she obviously wanted to, or forcing her out of the saloon. With all of her indecisiveness, she was too late, and Celeste had already followed her mother to find Doc.
It was impossible to tell whether Doc's eyes shone with fever or with drunkenness, but either way, shining blue eyes looked up to meet the hard stare of Galatea Sullivan.
"Tea," he said softly, an amused smile shadowing his face. "How nice of you to join us." What happened next he did not expect, and he backed away quickly as the woman on his lap flung herself at Galatea. It was not often the saloon saw two women behave in such a way, and the spectacle drew quite a bit of attention from the people around them. There was an uproar of laughter, and one man nearby called out that he had ten dollars on the red-head. Doc stepped back again to take in the scene and watched as Chaser tried to break up the fight between the two women, earning himself a knock in the head courtesy of Galatea.
It ended as quick as it had all started, leaving the bar woman disheveled on the floor in front of her, mortified. Galatea had whirled around and backhanded Doc hard across the face, and he had been drunk enough not to expect or move quickly enough to avoid it. She made contact, a ring on her finger that he himself had provided cutting across his cheek. The sting of it followed shortly. The men around Holliday didn't dare laugh, and were shocked Galatea had even attempted such an action, let alone accomplished it. Surely there would be some retaliation on his end? But instead, he watched her storm off, daughter in tow. Galatea's victim of revenge tried to gather herself as best as she could, pulling her torn dress back over her shoulders.
"Hey, what'd I ever to do you, huh?" She was nearly in tears, now. After running her mouth she hadn't been able to back it up. Doc Holliday made a move to put his hat in it's rightful place on his head and gathered up all of his winnings. He held a hand out for her, pulling her up from the floor and began to walk away.
"Doc," she howled, hurt and embarrassed.
Doc slipped her a small handful of bills from his winnings, tipping his hat lightly. "For your time, darlin'." He walked away then, brushing past Sarah whose mouth was open from what she had just seen. Volatile as their relationship may have been at times, she had never seen Galatea be so physical in her anger towards Doc. Doc would never raise a hand to her or any woman though, instead closing himself off and becoming more distant and cold to those that cared about him. Tea, too, was probably fed up with his selfish and self-destructive behavior. If this didn't bring about some change in her brother, she didn't know what would.
She gathered her wits enough to chase after her brother, who now bled not only from his mouth but from his cheek. He had not so much as winced, which Sarah took to mean that he knew he deserved it. Maybe there was some hope after all.
"John," she called out after him. "Tarr, Chaser," she called out behind her to signal the two remaining men in their group that she was leaving. She finally caught up with the gambler directly outside of the saloon doors. Galatea and Celeste were nowhere in sight. "John," she said again, with a rare quality to her voice. It was a mixed sound of disappointment and worry, and her eyes were narrow with concentration. "Well, here," she finally said, handing him a handkerchief. "Just...here." She waved it at him.
He took it, dabbing at his cheek. He didn't say a word, only met his sister's eyes briefly before moving off in the direction of their home.
"Whoa, whoa, where are you going?" He looked ready to topple over.
"I need to find her," he said as if it should have been the most obvious answer in the world.
"After that?" So it was true, all men were dense. She eyed him curiously, and put a hand on his chest when he lurched forward, barely able to keep upright. "And not like this, you aren't. Do you realize what you just did to her in there? And Celeste? Honestly, I don't understand you anymore."
He didn't respond but he made no further moves to follow after her.
"No," she said again with finality. "No, we are going home and you are going to rest. You let her come to you, or at least give her time" 'If she ever even wants to come,' she wanted to add, but didn't. Galatea was the gunman's weakness, and no matter what happened between the two of them, he usually wanted her with him. Galatea's greatest punishment to him could be to ignore him.
"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, again wiping the blood from his stinging cheek.
He put his arm around Sarah's slender shoulders when she moved around beside him, and they went home. Getting up the stairs was an effort, but the soft light coming from under the door to Galatea's room told Sarah that she had at least made it home. Sarah helped him so far as to a room down the hall, stumbling with him until he was at least lying on the bed. His exhaustion hit him hard and his eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep. His breathing came in short, painful heaves and he coughed, but all she could do for him was take off his hat and pull off his boots. Perhaps when Tarr made it back, she could get him to at least ease his breathing. She wasn't sure if Galatea would want to be bothered or not, so she just went to her and Tarr's bedroom, leaving the door open as an invitation in case she or Celeste may want to speak to her. She looked out of the window, which looked down out onto the busy Main street below and waited anxiously for Tarr to come back home. He couldn't be far behind them.
"I'm your huckleberry."