Good run of bad luck (semi-open- deu)

[Galatea]

((Whee.))
 
He woke when she rolled into him, letting out a bit of his purr to charm her, but he kept his eyes closed, silently willing her to settled down and go back to sleep. He was usually lazy in the morning, having become accustomed to waking up well-before Doc and Galatea, but fate, it seemed, had other plans for them today. When she greeted him he simply lifted her slightly so he could kiss her fully, chuckling softly. It was too early for conversation, and he hadn’t had his coffee yet. He kept the sheets over his chest- not that Sarah wasn’t fully aware of his scars, but he didn’t particularly like them, and Bruin was a smart cat who had learned that if he pushed hard enough on the doors, they would open. The cat did this to everyone in the house, but usually more to the healer and Tea, clearly having a preference for them. The cat grudgingly tolerated Doc’s presence, but would not curl up on the mattress when the gambler was sharing them, though he
would nestle between Sarah and Tarquin on cooler nights.
 
His fiancée was talking, though, and he finally opened his ice-blue eyes to study her face, shaking his head slightly. “He’s nae.” He denied it, even if it was partly true. “Even iff’n he is, it is nae our business.” He chuckled. Galatea may have been the go-to for most gossip, but his own woman was just as nosy at times, and it was amusing. He was about to continue, in fact, when the door was nudged open and a large tabby admitted himself into the room, not waiting for permission to hop onto the bed, demanding a good stroke from both people before snuggling into the blankets at the foot of the bed. From here, the sound of Tea’s soft voice drifted through, and he shot an incredulous look to Sarah. Those two could not have slept more than a few hours! But if she was up, Doc was awake. With an unhappy grumble, he got up, but only after kissing Sarah tenderly. He shut the door again, not wanting any potential prying eyes to catch sight of his
scarred back and chest, before dressing for the day. He waited for Sarah before heading down, though- content to let the reassuring murmur of the gambler and ex-madam wash over him. His senses were good- better than the average human- and he was amused.
 
Galatea had risen in a very pleasant mood this morning.
 
---
 
She laughed when he put up no resistance, even pulling her in tighter for a hard, passionate kiss. She was in a good mood, which usually had an effect on his mood. If she was feeling a bit frisky he would normally be far more passionate, and this seemed to be the case. She drew away, but didn’t go far- still resting her forehead against his, losing herself in the depths of his blue eyes. She adored him so, always had, and always would. She yawned once- they usually stayed in bed until mid-morning, so this was an early day for them- but wasn’t truly all that tired. His presence always allowed her to sleep deeply, without fear of someone busting in in the middle of the night, and she took advantage of it. When he spoke, she couldn’t help the laugh.
 
“I believe it was ‘Doctor Holliday’, if I remember rightly.” But her eyes sparkled and Galatea was melting away to let him have a good, hard look at Gwen Sullivan once more. She wasn’t fronting as she so often did. She laughed again, though, shaking her head. “Proper? Me?” She arched a brow. “Are you certain you’re talkin’ about the same person?” He followed this up with her own birth name, but the expected swat didn’t come- at least, not right now. She was in too fine a mood for that, and instead responded with another kiss, this one warmer than the previous one, relying more on his sturdy frame to support her as she melted against him. She didn’t object to him using her given name in private, so long as he didn’t tack on her hated middle name. Easing back, she sighed. There had been minor desperation in her kiss, this time, but the expression in her eyes was slightly lost as she met his gaze. He could spiral her out of
control so fast, and she could spend hours looking into his eyes. Literally. In fact, she probably had once or twice.
 
“We’re late for breakfast,” she murmured against his neck. She’d much, much rather stay here, but she knew they were already thinking on why they would be late and… and he was warm. She could just stay here. But he didn’t eat much, and she wouldn’t deny him if he wanted to go down. From the door, she heard Celeste call up. “Bye Mama, Daddy!”
 
“I’m taking ‘Lessie with me.” Tarquin’s brogue answered.
 
“And I’m taking the rounds in town, before I bring Abigail by to meet you.” Will’s voice drifted up as well. This made Galatea blink. Who was Abigail? Momentarily distracted, she turned away for a moment.
 
“Who’s Abigail?” She called back.
 
“You’ll see.” Will’s voice was amused. That was not her son- couldn’t be. He sounded almost… happy? She shifted her attention back to the handsome blonde then, her expression slightly predatory as she nuzzled at his jawline.
 
“Goin’ down, or stayin’ here?” She breathed it playfully.
 
---
 
Celeste followed her brother and uncle happily. She wasn’t sheltered by any means, but she liked spending time with her brother and uncle- especially her older brother. But Luke was going to be driving today, and that meant she could spend time with him- and Tarquin would be full of stories and entertainment for his patients. And he would stop to see little Eliza, giving Celeste a chance to make good on the promise to visit her. Plus she wasn’t dressed as fancy as she would normally, hopefully making her look more approachable. Will parted ways with a peck to her cheek, lovingly, as any doting older brother would.
 
“Have fun.”
 
“You too. I do hope you’re going to bring Abigail by again so I can meet her sometime.”
 
“You’d like her,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s smart, too. You’re sure it doesn’t bother you, Uncle Tarr?” Will looked towards the tall man.
 
“Aye.” He shrugged. “Ye best be off, iff’n ye want to bring that wee lady to see your parents.”
 
“Aye,” he said cheekily, dodging a swat. As he headed down the street, Luke was heading in, and he couldn’t help himself from calling out. He was friendly, certainly, having inherited that from his mother. “Watch yourself, Luke! My uncle’s in one of his moods.” He winked, though.
 
“Ignore me nephew, he’s far too much like his mother.” Tarquin retorted. When the team came to a stop, he reached out a hand to let the animals take in his scent before stroking both muzzles gently. “Handsome, aren’t you lads?” He questioned as Celeste came out of the clinic, her smile dazzling as her eyes fell on Luke.
 
“Oh!” She said it in delight. “They’re so big!” She had never been this close to a pair of draft horses before, clearly, but was not afraid. “They’re so pretty!” Their coppery coats gleamed in the sun, but she didn’t touch them, not as bold as her uncle. She greeted the handsome young man with a kiss to the cheek, as if shy around other people, but still wanting him to know she very much enjoyed him being here.
 
“Ah, lad, I told ye nae tae call me that. Tarquin is fine, or even sir.” He said it softly.
 
“Uncle Tarr doesn’t like being called ‘Doctor’ because he says it makes people wary of him. Makes him sound rich and snobby, when he’s not.” Celeste laughed softly as Will came back down with purposeful strides.
 
“What didja forget,” Tarquin quizzed playfully.
 
“Everything.” Will laughed.
 
“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders.” Celeste teased gently.
 
“I love you too, Celestine Elizabeth.” He teased right back, ruffling her hair and nearly causing her to wail in defiance. Thankfully it was only in a ponytail, so she could fix it without much effort.
 
“Don’t call me that,” she said with a laugh, swatting at him.
 
“You see what the men in our family have to put up with, Luke?” Will included him in the teasing. “Hope you know what you’re in for if you do decide to stick around.”
 
“Poor babies. You’re all so abused.” She laughed again. “Daddy has the worst of it.” It was true, Doc had a very passionate and playful woman in Galatea, but then, the pair were usually entertaining to watch.
 
“True, our father does have a time of it with Mama,” he laughed as well, now. “Well.. if you all feel like waiting, Abigail is due by quite soon.”
 
“Can we, Uncle Tarr?” Celeste looked at him pleadingly.
 
“’Acourse, Lessie.” He chuckled. He was just as curious about the girl.

[Mistress_Unknown]

((Longest post I have EVER done. Officially.))

((Memoirs of a Geisha reference! Find it!))

She nodded at Will’s assurance about his mother, but she caught herself chuckling at the mention of a rumor that his mother had made a deal with the devil. In her country, it would be a demon of some sort, like a fox or snake demon. But making deals with those was a terrible idea, because the tricksters often made the beauty only last a little while. But Abby knew well enough to ignore the whispers of the elite. Her mother found them tiresome and Abby found gossip to be a waste of energy to listen too. But she greatly admired a woman who could endure so many rumors and-from the way he was speaking-ignore it all. A woman like that was someone Abby most definitely wanted to meet. But at the mention of meeting his family, she stalled for a moment.

She believed it to be tradition to meet a family upon an invitation to court. But from the way he was continuing to talk about his parents’ nocturnal habits, Abby realized he more wanted to introduce them for the sake of propriety. She could not help herself from feeling a bit saddened, but it did not show. She was being silly, a man she just met today wanted to court her? Silly. She listened intently to his description of his family as if she was taking notes for an important exam. She was careful not to assume things from what he said, but she picked a few things up. His family was tolerant, she decided from that word they had a close family friend or member of the household that was not of the same race. It could be correct, and it could not be, but it gave her some reassurance. Soon-to-be uncle meant the other doctor was marrying the aunt of Will. So either his mother had a sister or she was the sister of his father. His father liked to gamble, and from his earlier comment, Abby picked up that his mother often accompanied him for...gambling trips? Something like that, and from her own experiences with her mother at the gambling houses in China, Abby almost knew immediately was his mother’s job in the gambling trip was. Abby’s (deceased) aunt from her mother had made it her goal in life to know her way around a betting table, and a man’s hand, and had taught Abby to do the same at the age of five. Her father often took her to horse races in England and Abby would use her aunt’s knowledge to manipulate small betting pools in the booths. Abby often walked away with a few tens in her hand to give to her father. He often told her he was caught between being proud and being worried.

With his mentions of his family complete, he spoke about his training and she smiled. “My training was at home and with the medicine women in China.” She commented quietly. “America does not allow women to go to college very often.” She said with the insult clear in her voice. Abby was highly intelligent, but the views of women in America had severely stunted her ability to continue learning. He told her of the agreement and she nodded, standing to join him. “Alright. I will do my best to be helpful.” She said finally. She opened her parasol, even if the sun was going down she preferred it being up, and took his arm gently, allowing him to walk her home. She was quiet, eyes darting about for signs of her step-father, but managed a reply to his statements. “Tarquin. I will remember that name.” She said with the same quiet voice she always used. It was cooler now and easier for her to wear the long sleeved dress she was forced to wear. She noticed the wave from the corner of her eye and looked to see a bunch of people sitting on a porch. In the short moment she observed them, she made sure to memorize all that she could about them, assuming them to be one or all of the people she would meet as part of his family.

“You will.” She assured as he dropped her by her home, smiled at the kiss on her hand and tilting her head to hide her slight highlight of pink better. “I will be there.” She assured again before entering the gate and walking up to her door. He had begun to leave and Abby took in a breath she knew she would need as soon as she entered the home.

--

“Where were you?!”

The voice of Matthew Tennison came to her ears as soon as Abigail came in view of the parlor. She sighed and put her parasol away. “Forgive me...father. I had to take shelter from the ruffians.” She said quietly, eyes glued to the floor. But not in shame or apology, but rather to keep him from seeing the defiance burning in her water-soaked eyes. Her step-father’s voice was clearly irritated rather than worried, most likely because he lost a client to her behavior. She knew she was going to have to repay him for that one.

“There would not have been a problem if you didn’t act so unladylike!” He retorted. Matthew never did like it when Abigail fought or used her self-defense training. Abigail resisted a hiss at his words and bit her lip. Of course, her step-father preferred women to be delicate show flowers rather than thorned brambles with lovely flowers. But Abigail liked her claws. “I am sorry, father.” She replied quietly. But Matthew was far from done. “And on top of that your scheduled clients for tonight had to be turned away! What took you so long?” He demanded and Abigail debated lying. But that would get her nowhere so she lifted her poultice-covered wrist as evidence. “After I escaped the ruffians I went to the town’s doctor to get my wrist looked at.” She said quietly before quickly adding, “After all, if they had broken it, I would not have been able to do Tarot.” She said, hoping his need for clients would overshadow that she was alone with a man.

It apparently worked as Matthew gingerly took the wrist to look at it. “Is it broken?” He asked. Abigail shook her head and let her wrist fall back. “No. But I may have strained it. The doctor wishes me to come by tomorrow to check on it.” She admitted, a tiny lie coming from her mouth as she reported. “May I?” She asked. “I will make up for my clients on the weekend.” She assured him, hoping the deal would strike his fancy. Matthew looked at her like a snake looks at a rodent but Abigail remained unfazed, used to such glances and he walked away with a toss of his hands. “Fine!” He shouted as he entered the parlor again. “Go the entire day if you like!” He sat down and glared at her. “After all, I just keep your mother and you hear in this country rather than send you back!” He said before he turned to the hearth, dismissing her. Abigail had heard that phrase so many times, she merely strode away. But the truth of the fact still made her blood boil.

She needed to tell her mother about her day.

--

((Italics in quotes is speaking Chinese because I will not spend hours trying to make a logical sentence from a language I know nothing about.))

“Mama?” She called out in Chinese once she had entered the back rooms where her mother slept. The smell of freshly made incense came to her nose as she approached her mother’s room. She knocked quietly. “Mama? May I enter?” She asked quietly.

“Come in.” Came the reply and Abigail entered the room to find her mother sitting on her bed, making incense from the dried flowers she had found outside the home earlier that day. “How was your day, my little sparrow?” She asked as Abigail began to peel off her clothes, grateful to finally be free of the garments. Once her dress was removed, Abigail put on her white nightgown and smiled.

“Mama, I had a wonderful day.” She admitted, sitting so her mother could unwind her hair for the day, the locks falling to the surface of the bed as they reached her waist when she stood. Her mother chuckled and nodded. “Good to know. Now why are you speaking Chinese, Fei Yen? You know I can speak English well enough.” She asked while removing the last clip from her daughter’s hair. Abby nodded. “I know. But I needed to speak with you about something that I cannot say where step-father can hear it.” She admitted. Feng Ui nodded, knowing her daughter’s disdain for the man she had married. “Then tell me.” She said quietly.

“I met a man today.” Abigail said and her mother interrupted. “A man?” She asked, pausing for a moment. Abby nodded again and turned to lay her head on her mother’s chest. “Yes, Mama. He is one of the town’s doctors and he is very interesting and friendly. He wants me to teach him of the herbs from China and he asked me to help him around the clinic.” She admitted, a content smile coming to her face as the scent of the incense and her mother’s heat beat was lulling her to sleep after her long day. “He is honourable, he helped me when I was in trouble.” She said quietly and her mother ran fingers through her ebony hair. She made no comment as her daughter slowly fell asleep and Feng Ui let a smile cover her own face as she moved the grown woman to lie next to her that night.

Her daughter was finally moving on.

--

The next morning found Abby dressing in a dress more suited to the heat. The sleeves ended at her elbows in a black lace trimming, but the down itself lacked the fancy lace layers from her gown yesterday. It was simpler in design but the colors complimented her eyes and facial structure better than the pale blue of yesterday’s dress. Today the colors were more down-to-earth in the main coloring being pleasant beige and an added layer of chocolate brown fabric that fell down the gown like a melting desert. The bottom was trimmed with black lace like her sleeves and the cut at the top did not cover her neck as much. It was simple but the brown brought out her eyes and made her look less washed out and complimented her hair almost perfectly. Her mother made her hair simple as well, a long braid falling down to her mid-back after wrapping around the back of her head once like a coiling serpent. She kissed her mother goodbye, carrying a small satchel with her filled with a gift for everyone in the household she was visiting (a common Chinese custom) and grabbing her beloved herb journal from her room before she left and clutching it to her side.

The last thing she grabbed was her parasol, the white and black one from the day before, and put it up as she headed out to face the early afternoon. The sun beat against her parasol but the white coloration of the fabric did its job and prevented her from feeling the brunt of the sun’s wrath. She strode gracefully, trying not to look too excited about seeing Will again, and made her way to the clinic with an easy-going air about her. As she came within sights of the clinic she spotted Will standing with a girl about his age with hair that was completely red. She made the connection almost immediately, this was his sister. She smiled with her pale pink-stained lips and strode closer, confidence coming from every step she took. Two men were also there, and neither held any resemblance to Will, so she would allow him to introduce them. The book in her side and the satchel to the other side were comforts to her as she neared the unfamiliar area. She stopped briefly to look at the horses and touched the closest one’s neck, smiling despite herself and stroking its neck before returning her attention to Will who was now looking at her.

She made a slight bow and smiled at him, producing the wrist he had cared for earlier. The bruise was faded greatly, even though the poultice was missing. She and her mother had worked on it before she had left and, while she did not allow her mother to use magic, the bruise was still no match for the two healing women. “Hello, Will.” She greeted quietly, voice giving away that she was happy to see him. She turned to the others standing there and bowed respectfully as she was taught in her home land and waited for introductions to be made.

[Galatea]

((On the ride back, I’m tempted to have Tarr tell a story about Tea as a young lady. *giggle fit*))
 
Will caught sight of her before his sister did, and he didn’t fight the small smile that crept onto his face. It was very much their mothers’ smile, and Celestine noticed it with a small grin of her own, shading her blue eyes to study the young woman as she approached. She was very pretty, Celeste decided instantly. She was just a little shorter than the redheaded girl, and a little older, too- but that didn’t bother her. She wasn’t as old as Will, either. He chuckled as he caught his sister’s gaze, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
 
“Aye, more’n likely.’ Tarquin laughed, too, smiling that smile that invited Luke to laugh as well. His nephew looked happy to see the girl, and he made a mental note to watch him very carefully. He may have been an adult, but he was still young and impetuous at times. He needed to give things time, and it was his duty as Uncle to make sure he did.
 
“Oh, shut your face,” Celeste giggled as Will stepped out quietly, offering his hand and dipping low in acknowledgement of her bow, kissing her hand again. Again, Tarquin made a mental note, because that was a sign that not only was Will starting to heal, but he was starting to move on as well. He may not have logically been thinking courtship right now, but that was a sign that he may be interested indeed. Celestine looked at it, too, and wrapped herself around Luke’s arm possessively, before taking his hand in hers, sweetly.
 
“Good morning, Abby.” He said it softly, his smile clearly conveying happiness at seeing her again. He offered his arm again, leading her closer with a grin. “This is part of my family, anyway. My sister, Celestine.” The redhead bobbed into a curtsey, keeping one hand on Luke for balance before straightening up. “My Uncle, Tarquin.” The Irishman smiled, bowing politely. “And this is Luke Grant. He’s been seeing something of my sister.” He almost called him her beau, but something told him that Luke wasn’t quite thinking of her that seriously just yet, even if their affection for one another was evident. “Everyone, this is Abigail.”
 
“Hi, Abigail!” Celestine was fascinated. The girl had exotic features that she envied, somewhat. Her almond-shaped eyes were certainly something. But she didn’t stare- staring would be rude. “Will’s said such good things about you.”
 
“Aye, that he has.” The Irish doctor stepped closer with a chuckle, offering her a light kiss to her fingertips as well as a smile. “It is good to know ye will be helping out from time to time.” His accent was lilting, musical, even. “But we best be off, aye? Luke, will ye help that wee lassie up, then?” He would let the boy hoist her up. He himself got up easily- Celeste would be comfortably sandwiched between the two men, but wouldn’t complain. She loved her uncle nearly as much as she loved her father- even if her father was still her favorite. “I leave the town in your capable hands, Wilson Jonathan.”
 
“Bye, Will,” Celeste trilled brightly as the team headed out of town.
 
“I apologize. They can be overwhelming at times, especially my sister.” He sighed. “She takes more after our Mama than anything. She has a good heart, though.” He defended her, still. He offered her his arm, then. “Shall we?” He waited for her to take his arm before strolling with her. Because he was tall, he had to modify his steps to keep pace with her smaller ones, which he did easily. He led her to the gate, only pausing briefly. “My father’s friendly enough, but don’t be surprised if he’s a bit standoffish. He’s like that when he first meets someone. If my mother starts irritating you, just let me know. She’s nosy at times.” He headed up the walk with her, smiling reassuringly. She’d be okay- she’d be fine. It was early yet, and they were still inside, so he gallantly gestured her in, laughing as there was a squeal of delight from his daughter.
 
“Daddy!” She stretched towards him, and he scooped her out of Essie’s arms, covering her face in kisses, laughing.
 
“Hi, punkin.” He cooed it. “What have you been doing all morning, hmmm?”
 
“She’s as well-behaved as usual.” Essie chuckled, smiling at the girl by his side. “If you’ll excuse me, Mister Will.”
 
“Miss Essie,” he said with a chuckle, letting her pass as his mother came from the direction of the kitchen. She was dressed far more casually than she normally would be, obviously set on cleaning the house or some other womanly nonsense, but she still had that cool poise. Her hair was piled up for once, mainly due to the heat. She didn’t like it, but it helped cool her off. “Mama, this is Abigail.”
 
“Abigail.” Her gaze shifted to the young woman, sharp as ever. Closer now, she could see the exotic slant to the eyes, the hair, the lithe frame, all hinting at her lineage. She could also see the smile on her sons’ face, and the way he was already acting more like himself, fawning over his daughter despite her presence. This was a good thing- it had to be. She smiled. “I’d shake your hand, but I was just tending to our little garden.”
 
“Little nothing.” Will chuckled. His mother had created a veritable paradise out back, perfect for entertaining during those hot summer nights. She’d even managed to coax wisteria along the trellis, a scent that reminded her of her childhood home. “My mother can get anything to grow.”
 
“Oh, Will.” She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders modestly. “You should have brought her around back, dear,” she said as she lightly pecked Will on the cheek before leading them through the house to the backyard. She had an eye for beauty, that was for certain, and this was clearly her haven. “So, Abigail, I take it your family just moved here recently.” She carefully baited the girl as she gestured to the two blondes in the outdoor space.
 
“This is my Aunt Sarah,” Will introduced her with a grin. His father was casually smoking a cigarette, which irritated the son, but he shook his head as he set his daughter down. “And this is my father.” Who else could he be? His father was still a handsome man in his own right- thin but not to the point of being a skeleton, and he still retained that charming, cavalier air about him that was appealing. Will had come by his looks naturally, obviously. His curvaceous mother and slender father had created a dangerous combination, but neither could deny him. He had his mother’s coloration and most of her looks, with the Holliday jawline thrown in for good measure. “This is Abby- Abigail.” He corrected.  

[Doc_Holliday]

He noted how she admired but hesitated to touch the two large horses, shaking his head with a grin. As gentle as Cleo was, these two were probably even more so. They were gentle giants, lumbering along and doing exactly what was asked of them without complaining. They were a hard-working breed, and did their job to the fullest. He patted their noses, again, Tarquin having done the same already.

"They will be insulted if you don't give them a pet." His eyes were dancing and he reached for her hand, waiting for her permission to continue by not pulling away before guiding her slim fingers along with his to touch the one nearest to them on the neck. The giant animal responded kindly to her touch, shifting his weight and snorting out through his nostrils. "We call him Rock," he said with a one-sided shrug. "I don't know why. And that's Nicolas, Nic," he said gesturing to his partner. He took his hand away then, letting her decide if she would continue to pet the horses or let her hand drop. Tarquin was speaking to him anyway, now.

"Yes, Sir," he said, happy to compromise on the title when Tarquin suggested it. Before they were to head out for the day, it seemed that there was someone that Will wanted them to meet. Celeste was eager to see this girl that he had already spoken of, and it wasn't too long before she came into view. Luke wouldn't have thought it was her until Will responded so positively to her. No matter how many times he heard and saw evidence that this was a tolerant family, he was unable to accept that anyone other than white Luke Grant would be accepted by them. Clues to the contrary were thrown in his face nearly every time he interacted with them. He still could not bring himself to let them see Cheyenne Luke.

The girl really was very pretty, and he smiled, giving a dip of his own head when she neared and Will went around with the brief introductions.

"'Lo, Miss Abigail," responded in turn when Will offered her name. He was familiar with people from the Orient, thought he could tell she was not full. She was very likely very much like him, half, or mixed in some way. Everyone in the area was familiar with people from the far East, but that didn't mean they were accepting. Their presence was grudgingly tolerated for the sake of the labor they provided, but like Luke and his, were not usually expected to be among "proper society". Tarquin stepped forward to offer her a kiss on the hand, Luke staying cemented in his spot next to a very interested Celeste. Such gestures were not in his repertoire or place. He did however, naturally and easily offer his hand to Celeste to help hoist her up into the high seat before he and the doctor climbed up. The two horses didn't need much coaxing to get moving, and the wagon lurched forward with their powerful movement. He held the reins loosely in his hands, heading out of town and the first place that Tarquin wanted to visit.

The doctor apparently made many trips into the country to pay visits to people who needed long-term care. Many elderly and families with many young children depended on him. At each stop, he would also make himself useful with any physical labor needing to be done while Tarquin tended to his patients. Celeste was friendly and outgoing enough to enjoy conversation with the people at the homes to which they paid visits. They were nearing the people that Luke would consider his "neighbors", and he was very familiar with their farms and homesteads, having helped this particular widow out many times.

"Morning Mrs. Cooper," he chirped to her when the team pulled up. He diverted his voice to Celeste, and Tarquin since he was sitting right on her other side. Tarquin probably knew her well, having paid a call out to her many times before, but he doubted Celeste had met her before. "She's friendly," he began, a warning tone in his voice. "But she'll have you here for hours if you let her, and you'll know her life story by the end of it." He laughed, bringing his horses to a halt and helping Celeste down from her seat so that she could stretch her legs.

"Good morning, Luke," she said as she approached them. "Doctor O'Brian, it really is so kind of you to come and see me all the way out here." She was a lean, elderly woman, and she took great pride in looking well put-together. Her hair was pulled into a tidy updo, fitting for a day of work on the farm even though it was doubtful she was physically capable of such labor anymore. She was worn with years of hard work, but her face told that she had obviously been beautiful in her youth. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting your friend." Her gaze turned to the red-haired girl standing next to Luke. "But, forgive me, my memory is not what it used to be."

"No, Mrs. Cooper," Luke reassured her. "This is Celeste Holliday. Celeste, this is Mrs. Mary Cooper."

"Holliday?" Her expression changed to one of interest, and she gave a knowing smile. "Ah, yes, I know of your father," she said in recognition of the name. Not wasting any time, she looked back to Celeste's companion. "Luke, I don't suppose you have any extra time, do you? I noticed a fence post just over there that needs mending." The way she asked was not at all demanding, instead sounding rather sad that she had to resort to constantly asking for help, relying on those around her. She gave a heavy sigh, and Luke eagerly headed off to fix it after checking with Celeste that she would be alright. Mrs. Cooper turned to the doctor in front of her and smiled in gratitude again.

"He's a good boy, that one," she said, indicating to Luke who was well out of hearing range of the group. "I didn't know he was working with you, now." She smiled to Celeste, not questioning what a girl of her social class was doing hanging around with a boy like him. "He cares about you," she said, the wisdom in her eyes obvious. "If there's one thing an old woman can tell, it's when a young man loves a girl." She laughed, being well enough into old age to not give a second thought on stating her honest opinion on a matter. She looked to the Irishman as if warning him not to argue with her. She had seen enough of it to know what the way he watched her and touched her at just the appropriate times meant. "He's a good one," she repeated. "My own husband, God rest his soul, I'm sure he had the same look in his eyes. Of course, I was also so young and couldn't see it, probably just like you can't. I was blind to it," she continued in between questions the good doctor asked of her health. "But I came around." She leaned in closer then, nearly whispering to the girl. "I married "down", too, you might say," she said with a shake of her head, clearly disapproving of the wording. "Thirty-eight years with that man," she said, speaking up again then just as Luke was returning. "Luke knew Mr. Cooper, didn't you, Luke? He was a good man."

"Yes, ma'am. He was a good man," he said, re-offering his condolences as it always seemed to satisfy some need of hers. "All fixed," he said in reference to the fence post. "I'll be by again next week to make sure everything is still alright."

"Thank you so much, my dear boy." She grabbed his shoulders, nearly inciting a wince from the boy, and kissed his cheek in grandmotherly fashion. "Lord knows how much I appreciate ya."

"It's no problem at all, Mrs. Cooper," he said, the group beginning to back away and take their leave before they heard another round of stories about her and her husband. She was lonely and Luke's sister, Grace, would come by to visit with her when she had time, but currently the group she had with her now had other patients to tend to. He helped Celeste back up, waited for Tarquin, and sent the team off, heading for the road that would take them to his next patient. "What did I tell you?" He finally prompted, grinning. She was friendly, at least. He was grateful that they were not stopping by her nearest neighbor. There lived a hostile, middle-aged, man with a particular hatred for Indians, as he had lost his son, a cavalry officer, in a cavalry raid on an Indian camp a few short years ago. He knew about and hated Luke with a passion, so the boy did what he could to steer clear of this particular man and his family.

-

He had, of course, accompanied Galatea downstairs and eaten enough to satisfy her pestering about it. Eventually the group made their way out back, Tea to garden, Sarah to assist wherever she could, and Doc to mostly sit and watch. They were all in one area though, enjoying each other's company even if they didn't openly express it. Tea disappeared for a moment, and the sound of her voice, and Will's caught both of the Holliday sibling's attention. They were clearly not alone.

It was not often that strangers simply showed up in their home, and so their interest's were understandably piqued.

"Who on earth?" The blonde woman began, the question completely rhetorical. She was about to follow Galatea inside before she, Will, and the stranger emerged from inside the house. Galatea loved to take advantage of entertaining in her garden whenever she could, so it was no huge surprise that they ended up there.

Doc recognized her as the girl from the day before, and he glanced over to Galatea, issuing her a look as if to say, 'Now we'll see.'

When Sarah looked at her closer, she could distinguish that she was of Oriental descent, and the memory of the conversation about the scuffle outside of the saloon yesterday afternoon came back to her. As she was introduced, she smiled, meeting the girl's gaze and looking around for something to wipe her hands on, which were dirty from the small amount of gardening she had managed to help Tea with.

"Abigail," Sarah said warmly, looking over to Doc when Will gestured toward him. He had stood up by now, giving a polite dip of his head in acknowledgement of her presence. "I'm glad you were able to come and visit with us," she continued, smiling that charming smile of hers that everyone responded so well to. There was nothing that hinted to a lack of sincerity in her expression or tone, and everyone in town knew her to be an easy-going, gracious woman. She stepped aside to allow her and Will room to pass, taking in the girl's exotic features which really made her very beautiful. She had been counting on her friend to keep the conversation going, and she came through, Sarah also eager to hear about the girl's arrival in their city. The way she dressed and carried herself told her that she came from money and education, unlike most of the people from the Orient that people around here were used to. This girl really was something very special, and leave it to Will to run into her and latch onto that spark of rarity that everyone was naturally drawn to.

(Still a random side-character addict. You can take it wherever, girlie! Feel free to take some liberties. Not sure what I should have ended with!)

[Galatea]

((God, Celeste is too cute!))
 
She didn’t mind the bouncing of the wagon as the big team pulled them along easily. They were strong, she noted, and pulled the wagon as if it weighed little more than a small cart, placidly plodding along in tandem. Luke was kind to them, too- he let them pick the pace, in no hurry. And conversation was pleasant- Tarquin liked to talk and jest with his favorite people, and Celeste was one of them. But Luke was rapidly gaining a place there as well. The healer could appreciate his honesty and work ethic, and the boy was intelligent, and clearly adored his niece. She adored him, too- she would comfortably rest her head on the boy’s shoulder as the conversation flowed, preferring him over her uncle. He had quickly realized that Celeste was an asset to the healer, almost as much as Luke was proving to be. The elderly were fond of the young girl who would fetch them anything they needed, and the parents appreciated her playing with the young ones.
 
If anything, she had inherited her mother’s natural instincts when it came to children.
 
It was amusing to watch pretty little Celestine Holliday play with the children, unmindful of her clothing getting dusty and dirty- not caring one lick when a young baby pulled her hair or a toddler fell against her skirt. In fact, she rather laughed and straightened them out, or scooped them into her arms. She was clearly accepting of all classes, but this was no surprise. Her mother’s previous profession had put her beneath her father, socially, yet he had happily accepted her back into his life and his arms, and more importantly his bed. They were all passion and fire together, but their love was true. She had naturally gravitated towards Luke Grant when her uncle had pointed him out, but she had watched him before approaching.
 
She’d seen he was honest, and he worked hard. Life didn’t hand him anything, but he thrived in spite of it. That, and he was handsome and full of natural charm. When she had mustered up enough courage to approach him, he had hooked her fast, and she liked him very much. They were getting closer to Luke’s own home, now, and Tarquin was getting more chatty than usual. Of course, old Mister Potts had made sure to offer the good doctor some of his home-brewed moonshine, and Tarquin had accepted it willingly. He was not nearly drunk, but the drink did make for a chatty healer. When Luke spoke, he laughed outright.
 
“Aye. She is one o’ me favorites, though.” He patted Celeste’s hand.
 
“I don’t mind,” she whispered back to Luke as he helped her down from the wagon, taking assurance in his strong hands at her waist, steadying her. She didn’t catch the looks from the older woman, but if she had she would have shook her head slightly. This woman and her mother could have been friends. She dipped into a well-trained little curtsey, her smile friendly as her mother’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cooper.” She said it brightly. Her uncle gave her a friendly tip of his hat, and a smile.
 
“Ah, Mary, iff’n only me heart didnae belong to Sarah, I’d have to call on ye more often.” He charmed. He had a fondness in particular for the widows of the community, often taking extra time to visit with them, paying them attention. It was as if this could somehow make up for his neglect of young Gwen Sullivan when she had been so poorly off. But Mary Cooper was a clear favorite, having been raised by a well-meaning, well-heeled family who had lavished her with tokens of affection, much as young Celestine was. Mary Cooper had married down in a time when people did not break the social boundaries. But she had been loved, clearly. Her aged face was still attractive, and her long hair still pulled up in a fashion both pleasing to the eye and practical to a fault.
 
It was surprise that showed in her face when her father was mentioned, along with that hint of pride. She clearly adored her father, evident in the way she lit up now. Everyone at least knew of her father, though many still held the vicious rumors true, and even frowned when they realized her mother was clearly ‘that woman’ who was so often seen wrapped up with that ‘ruffian’. But there was no hint of that here. Luke scurried off to mend a broken post, but not before making sure she was alright, and she met the clear brown gaze of the elderly woman, who was looking after him. She mentioned he was a good boy, and Celeste colored slightly when she realized she was looking after Luke like a puppy.
 
“Aye, he is at that.” Tarquin chuckled. “I’m trying tae find a way tae keep him ‘round more often.” For Celeste, of course. He took her wrist lightly, beginning to check his patient out, while she diverted her attention to Celeste. The girl blushed only slightly as she mentioned Luke’s behavior towards her. Sure, she knew he liked her- he wouldn’t spend time with her if he didn’t enjoy her company- but love? She blinked, surprised, as the woman leaned closer.
 
“Social standing has nothing to do with it,” she said it back. “Just look at my parents.” Tea evaded that question skillfully, usually. When asked outright if she considered herself beneath him, she would respond ‘depends on my mood and his leverage,’ and leave it at that (and folks were usually blushing by that point, rendering the point moot anyway). She ducked her head when the woman mentioned marriage as well. Luke hadn’t even suggested that they were even courting one another- even if she wanted him to. She wanted to be able to introduce him as her beau- wanted to feel less guilty about bringing him around her family- wanted to be reassured of her place with him. Before she could go on, though, Luke returned, and her eyes lit up. They may have been coined after her father’s, but they conveyed more expression, like her mother.
 
“I’m sure he was a good man,” she said it softly. The poor woman seemed awful lonely, out here by herself, and she knew now why Tarquin travelled this stretch when he could. He wanted them to know they hadn’t been abandoned, or forgotten.  Her affection for her uncle soared in that moment, but they did have to go. She let Luke steady her as she got up into the seat again, but smiled and waved as they headed off again. When he spoke, she grinned right back. “Luke Grant, she was the sweetest thing!” She chuckled. “I could have spent hours there!” But she snuggled against his side, head on his shoulder again.
 
“That just leaves the Grant homestead,” Tarquin said with a chuckle. He let the boy take them back to his place. Eliza was outside, and she waved cheerfully to Tarquin. He was nice and when she had been sick he’d always brought her a treat of some sort. But her face lit up when Luke lifted Celeste down from the wagon. Immediately, the girl had the youngest Grant glued to her hip, and arms flung around her hips as far as the little girl could go, with a cry of “’Leste!” She laughed, though, and tousled the girl’s dark hair lightly, much as her father would tousle hers.
 
“Well, hello there, Eliza.” She crouched then, more on eye level with the little girl. “Why, I think you’ve grown a whole two inches since I last saw you.” She leaned in then, her exaggerated stage whisper evident to them all, and clearly not unkind in the least. “You need to tell Luke to help my brother and Mr. O’Brien, more often, so I can come see you.”
 
“As if ye need a reason,” her uncle chuckled as he scooped Eliza up to sit on one broad forearm, tickling her lightly while he let his gift work.
 
“Your hands are warm,” Eliza giggled happily.
 
“Aye, that’s how it’s supposed to be, lassie.” He laughed.
 
“What’s a lassie?” Innocent eyes peered up at him.
 
“A wee girl,” he laughed. She looked at him curiously again, but it was Celestine who responded this time.
 
“That means a little girl. But he calls me ‘lassie’ too.” She grinned. “And my mama, even! He’s just silly.”
 
“Are you making fun o’ me accent, ‘Lessie?” His voice held nothing but affection, though. They showed affection through teasing like this in their family.
 
“You talk pretty, Mister O’Brien,” the girl in his arms chirped happily, and he sighed. She was a sweetheart, and he was always fond of children anyway.
 
“Aye, lassie. It be ‘cause in me home, we all be kissed by the fairies.”
 
“What’s a fairy?” The girl wanted to know. He looked towards her mother, then. He wouldn’t go filling the girl’s head with stories- not without permission, anyway. But it would give them a chance to stay for a spell, and let the little girl spend time with Celeste, who she clearly adored. “‘Leste doesn’t talk like that.” Suspicion now.
 
“Aye. I come from Irelan’.” He said with a chuckle.
 
“Mister Sullivan comes from there, too,” she chirped brightly. The elderly man was one of Tarquin’s regulars.
 
“Aye, that he does, lassie.”
 
“Miss Shaw talks pretty, too.” She said it curiously. She had met Miss Shaw, of course she had. She was pretty like ‘Leste, with her dark red hair falling halfway down her back, but hers was really curly, not wavy like her daughters. She had fawned over the little girl, and been so nice. She had a pretty smile, too, and her clothes were pretty. She was near a dark-skinned woman who had just fascinated little Eliza Grant. There weren’t many black people out here- certainly none who were dressed as nicely as Essie had been- and the woman had been nice, too. Miss Shaw had even called her ‘mama’. She didn’t look like Miss Shaw, though. Miss Shaw was tall- almost as tall as Celeste’s daddy was. She’d snuck a look at him when ma wasn’t looking, once, out of curiosity. People said such things about him, but she didn’t see why. He was tall- taller than Luke, even- and didn’t look old enough to have a daughter as old as ‘Leste. And, when
he caught her staring, hadn’t brought any attention to her- just tipped his hat with a little smile playing at his lips.  The young girl didn’t make the connection of mother and daughter between Miss Shaw and the redheaded girl her brother was with so often. Celeste’s last name was Holliday, not Shaw, after all. “Is she from Irelan’ too?” She tried to pronounce it the way he did, eliciting a laugh.
 
“Nay, pet. She is from the South, just like Celeste’s daddy and aunt.”
 
“Do they talk pretty too?” She looked towards Celeste for confirmation.
 
“Oh, yes.” She smiled.

[Doc_Holliday]

He grinned from ear to ear and couldn't argue with her when she defended the widow Cooper. She was sweet, and had her share of hard knocks in life as any sodbuster in the region could relate to. She was a valuable asset not only where company and entertainment were concerned, but also in knowledge and experience. Nearly everything that Luke and his family went through she had gone through dozens of times and was always available with wisdom and a way to look ahead. She got lonely at times, but she had a strong community of homesteaders around her and they liked to rely on themselves more than have to go into town all of the time. A neighbor was always only a short ride or wagon ride away.

His own home was nearby and Tarquin was set on stopping by. His mother knew they were going to be in the area and would have insisted upon it anyway. As soon as their land came into view, Eliza was out the door and waving enthusiastically, practically jumping in place as the group took entirely too long to pull up and step onto solid ground again. She flung her arms around her brother first, shyly peering around his legs to sneak a peek at Celeste. She was a sweet but timid girl, and her owlish brown eyes stared up at Luke's pretty friend. Luke urged her forward and she finally gave Celeste a tight hug, smiling up at her and expressing her joy at seeing her again.

"'Leste!" she exclaimed proudly, this time convinced that she had the girl's name right. Celeste came down to her level, and she shyly swung back and forth in place, it taking all of her willpower to keep from reaching out and touching one of the slightly curled, red tendrils. "Really?" She brightened upon hearing that she had grown. She looked behind her to her mother to make sure that she had also heard. As if given an order, she nodded when her new friend told her that she should tell her brother to help out with the doctor more. That way, she could come visit Eliza. Before she could answer, she was hoisted up into the air with a screech and howl of laughter as Tarquin's nimble fingers tickled her. Her laughter was absolutely contagious, a sound of sheer innocence and childish delight. Even Luke had to laugh, temporarily forgetting all of this adult responsibilities and worries.

While Eliza got a lesson in Tarquin's unique manner of speaking, Mrs. Grant came out from the house, wiping her hands on her apron and fixing a flyaway strand of hair that had escaped during her long routine of chores in the morning. She was slender with plain, brown hair, but beautiful in her own right. She had a natural beauty about her, never having been made up a day in her life.

"Doctor O'brien," she greeted him warmly in her soft manner of speaking. "Thank you for stopping by." She turned her attention to Celeste, her smile broadening and reaching her eyes in sincerity. "Miss Holliday, I'm so pleased to see you again." She looked back and forth between her and the doctor. "Your uncle is a wonderful man. He has done us a great many favors." And expected nothing in return, she might add. Luke had painstakingly explained Celeste's family dynamic to his mother. The doctor was not a blood relative but he might as well have been for the bond that they shared, her parents were not married but loved each other with a passion that many married couples did not, and she and her only sibling were ten years apart in age. At first it had been a lot to work through and comprehend, but she was in reality a very tolerant woman. She had married a man who had had a child with a Cheyenne woman, and had taken on the responsibility in full, loving him dearly.

"Eliza," she said with a mothering look, the girl immediately realizing she had been a bit forward with her questioning. She wasn't normally so brave. Something about the doctor and Celeste made her more outgoing. But she smiled at the girl when a look of horror crept over her face. "Be polite," she whispered to her daughter, warning her not to heed any opposition from Doctor O'brien and Celeste. She was to mind her mother, after all. The little girl sprang over to her mother then, clinging to her skirt and looking up at her with those big expressive brown eyes of hers that were not quite as dark as her brother's.

"I'm hungry," she whispered.

"Well, good. Your father will be home soon and then we can eat," Mrs. Grant spoke up, directing her speech to everyone gathered outside of her home. "I have dinner all ready. Doctor O'brien, Miss Holliday, would you please stay and at least allow me to repay your kindness with a meal?" Dinner was the largest meal the families out here ate, eaten around noontime, which was conveniently right when Luke and company showed up. The man of the house suddenly appeared as well, always doing his best to eat a meal with his family when it was possible. He rode Luke's handsome gelding, Sterling, since the team was in use for the day. He hopped off of the horse with ease, and even though he was a big man, he knew how to ride and the horse seemed comfortable with his weight.

"Pa!" Eliza broke away from her mother, tearing across the grass and throwing herself into his arms. He picked her up and kissed her cheek, swinging her back down so that she was upside down and her head was hanging by his knees. She was in a squealing fit of laughter, but clearly enjoying it and not attempting to right herself. This was a familiar game between father and daughter. He was a tall and well-built man. Luke took after his father quite a bit, obviously more so than his mother, who was not known to technically be of no relation.

He approached Tarquin and Celeste with his screeching daughter hanging upside down in his strong, loving arms, keeping a humorously perfect straight face as if she was not there when he spoke to the doctor. "Doctor O'brien," he said in his firm voice in greeting. He extended one hand to shake Tarquin's, needing only one arm wrapped around Eliza's waist to keep her there. "I'm sure Alice has already asked you to stay and eat with us," he said, glancing over to his wife who smiled and shook her head at Eliza's antics. He flipped her over, much to her enjoyment and set her back down on the ground. Still all laughs, she clung to his leg and waist, and put both of her feet on his large boot so that when he walked he had to bring her with him.

"Miss Holliday," he also greeted the young red-headed girl, a hand on Eliza's back to support her as she balanced on his shoe. She was small for her age, as many children out in the country were, so she perhaps looked younger than she really was. For being as large and obviously powerful as he was, he had a gentleness with his delicate looking daughter that was similar to how Luke touched and treated Celeste. "Please, come in," he gestured ahead of him and followed after everyone was inside the small but cozy home. It was well organized and planned on the inside, utilizing the space they had available as best as possible. Grace was also inside, even more shy than her little sister around the Doctor and his niece, especially since she thought him to be so handsome. She quietly busied herself with helping her mother, but obedience and properness finally won out, and she gave a quick little curtsy to their guests.

"Hello, Doctor O'brien, Celeste," she said, meeting their gazes only briefly before dropping hers in a fashion that Luke still had a tendency to do. She was only a year or so younger than Celeste, and she liked the girl very much based on the few hours she had already spent with her. Her hair was the same plain brown as her mother's, the top half of it tied up with a ribbon while a few shorter pieces framed her face and the rest of the length fell straight across her shoulders. Once again she admired Celeste's fine clothes, giving her a shy smile when she caught her looking.

The table where they ate took up a large part of the main floor space emphasizing how important sharing their meals was to their family. It had room to spare, even with the extra guests for dinner. Eliza had insisted on sitting next to Tarquin, her legs dangling in her chair and her entire body angled towards the doctor so that she could better watch him. Beyond that she didn't care much where anyone else, except for Celeste of course, sat. The first time she had met the doctor she had been scared to death of the stranger, not allowing him to touch her for nearly an hour, but once someone made their way into Eliza's heart they were there for good. She grinned proudly at Tarquin every time he looked at her, her mother still not having given up on making the girl display some form of manners at the table.

"Eliza," she instructed in her soft tone that still had a powerful effect on her children. "Stop staring at Doctor O'brien." The young girl listened, straightening out her body but in only a few minutes had latched onto watching Celeste, her teeth over her lower lip in a bashful smile. As Eliza's mother was the parent doing the reprimanding, her father was forced to sit back and let her correct her as the rest of the present company was expected to do, as tempting as it was to allow the youngest Grant's entertaining behavior to continue.

The conversation was light and joyful as always, Grace Grant not uttering a word and looking overall nervous but content. Luke sat next to Celeste who was on the other side of Eliza, and he would frequently lean over to catch his youngest sister's attention, the young pair keeping her from getting in trouble with her fascination with Tarquin. Again in anticipation of company, Luke's mother had cooked the best that she had on hand, the rest of the family clearly appreciating it as well. They were not starved or wasting away, but certainly slender, and the way Eliza scarfed her food down was an indicator that they did not always eat this well. She had less control over her behavior like her sisters and brother did, who ate normally and without any great urgency.

Luke's mother turned her attention towards Celeste then, Luke's father and Tarquin engaged in some conversation that pertained to men. "Celeste, that's a beautiful name," she said thoughtfully. "I believe it is French? What does it mean?" Her daughters were interested as well. They spoke to her with a sort of accepting gentleness that wouldn't make her feel as though she were on trial to become something more than a friend to their dear son and brother. Eliza already fully accepted her, and Grace enjoyed her company and didn't have a single negative thing to say or even so much as think about the pretty, intelligent girl. They were less formally educated than she was, to be sure, but they did their best to be well learned open-minded, their mother clearly having some knowledge and appreciation of the French language.

(You told me to have fun....Also, I completely changed Luke's sibling arrangement because I just didn't want to keep track of them all. So he has two younger sisters lol).

[Galatea]

((Also assuming Luke is now the oldest, lol. Considering he’s the only child half-Cheyenne.))
 
There was nothing cuter than a happy child, and even Celeste laughed when Eliza giggled in response to Tarquin. Her uncle had been the sort she could play with- both her uncles, in fact- while her father had been the quiet one she could doze with, or count on for some quiet comforting. But Tarr loved children and had been more than happy to play with his niece- and Will, too. But Will had been older, and he didn’t play much, instead learning how to hunt from their Uncle Walker and how to shoot from their father. She glanced to Luke with a grin, though. His sister was the cutest little thing. His mother came out, then, and a grinning Tarquin turned as his niece did.
 
“Afternoon, Mrs. Grant,” the redhead said it politely, but no one would expect anything less. Her parents had both driven the point home about being polite, and she had seen them live out this example. Besides, Luke’s mother was a very kind woman, and she wouldn’t dream of being impolite. “But, please, call me Celeste.” Her smile was warm and invited the family to do just that. She was like her brother that way- didn’t put on airs or assume she was better than anyone else because she came from money. That was not the way her parents raised her. This was owed largely to their father instilling a moral code of sorts in them. He did not put on airs, usually, and so they followed his example. She did smile when her uncle was complimented, however.
 
“He is a wonderful man,” she smiled. “He is a perfect match for my Aunt Sarah.” Everybody knew the handsome doctor was engaged to Ms. Sarah Holliday, even if they didn’t actually know the woman- which was admittedly rare. Her aunt was well-liked in the community, even if she was blood to a notorious gunman. But the doctor and the Southern Belle were just as well-matched as the gambler and his woman- they just fit. It was about that time when the man of the house came home, Eliza flinging herself at him and making Celestine start with minor fright at first. She had certainly never seen such behavior! Her own father would let her curl up with him, certainly, and even give her some affection at times, but never like this. Even at Eliza’s age she would not have been able to throw herself at the gunman like that!
 
But it was cute, and both seemed happy to see one another. And, she supposed it wasn’t so odd. When her father came home after a few nights away, she was known to rush to him and hold him tight around the neck, so really, how odd was this? And for all his eccentricities, her father was gentle with her and let her cling as long as she needed, his soft drawl a comfort. It reminded her of her childhood, back when she was still small enough to crawl into his lap and doze with her head on his chest.
 
She grinned when he came closer, Eliza clinging to his leg precariously, but in no danger of falling. Mister Grant had one hand keeping her steady, after all. She had met him before, of course, but that had been overwhelming, so now she took the time to study him. He was tall, like her father, but he was muscled whereas her father was whipcord lean. Still, there was something honest about him and she found herself smiling back as her Uncle shook the man’s hand with a grin.
 
“Hello, Mr. Grant,” she smiled the greeting, taking Luke’s hand and letting him lead the way into the cozy home. She had reached for him out of habit, the movement unconscious- as automatic as her mother reaching for her father. Once inside, she flashed a smile at Grace, who was still painfully shy. Had she been more like her mother, she would have drawn the girl out, but she was her father’s daughter, and as such much more reserved. Seating arrangements were doled out, with Tarquin being placed to one side of Eliza, and Celestine on the other side. Luke dropped beside her as well, and she smiled at him before they joined hands in prayer.
 
Now, it was no secret that the Holliday family were not church-going folk, but they did go on occasion, and blessing their food was done like clockwork every meal. Tarquin was, after all, devoutly Catholic, even if it wasn’t the predominate faith this far West. They usually didn’t join hands, though, and she liked this different way of doing things. The meal was very good- Eliza scarfed it down but Celeste chalked that up to a growing girl. Luke and his sister ate at a less hurried pace, after all. Eliza couldn’t stop staring at Tarquin, bringing their mother to comment on it. The doctor had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Discipline was important, after all.
 
“She’s alright,” he chuckled softly when she latched onto Celeste instead. But the redhead didn’t care, and teased with the girl as Luke did. Conversation was pleasant and enjoyable- Tarquin chatted happily with Luke’s father, and then Mrs. Grant looked at her curiously, mentioning her name.
 
“Yes, it is.” She responded brightly. “It’s Celestine, actually. But that’s such a fuss to pronounce that my d- father shortened it to Celeste fairly quickly. My mother named me- it means ‘heavenly’. But my father didn’t object to the name.” She never called Doc ‘father’, the title of ‘Daddy’ never being refuted by him- not when she used it, anyway. Will couldn’t get away with it, but a daughter was different, clearly. Her father allowed far more with his spirited daughter than his son, and their relationship was unique in that aspect. She knew part of the reason was that she looked like her mother, and part of it was that she had been such a tiny infant that all the males in the house had been afraid of breaking her if they touched her.
 
“Aye. Ye were a beautiful babe,” Tarquin said fondly, during a lull in the conversation. His niece ducked her head and colored, slightly. She knew she was pretty- she looked like a slender blend of her parents. She did not have her mother’s figure, that was true, but she did have curves and she had inherited her father’s eyes, something she loved. Still, it was not often than someone actually told her she was pretty, or in this case assured the family of the fact. “Can’t say the name doesn’t fit her.”
 
“Mama says that all the time,” the girl shook her head. “She speaks French like a native,” she went on. “So does my Uncle Walker. Wilson Jonathan and Daddy are both well-versed in Latin, so they can catch the general meaning of what my mama says, usually.” She slipped up, calling her father by the only name she ever used. But she was comfortable with Luke’s family, so it just slipped out. That, and her brother’s detested full name. He went by Will, often not even bringing up his last name, out of sheer irritation. “Aunt Sarah and I are usually left in the dark. Uncle Tarr knows some Latin and French.” Enough to understand and follow some of it, at least. Thankfully, they usually didn’t slip into a different language. Seeming to realize she was now the center of attention, she ducked her head again, waiting for the conversation to shift.

[Doc_Holliday]

She nodded, fully taking in everything that the young red-head was saying. Her name was indeed French, meaning heavenly. She smiled, laughing softly and showing her lighter side.

"When I was a little girl, I always used to wish my name was more unique. I knew three other Alice's in my town." Her gaze softened, showing her appreciation for her name. "It's a good traditional name, though. It was my grandmother's name."

Eliza tore her gaze away from Tarquin only temporarily to join the women's conversation. "Ce-leste," she repeated after her mother, finally getting the name right by breaking it into two exaggerated syllables.

"There you go, Eliza," Luke beamed at his sister, who's pride only soared when she got the reassurance of her big brother. Luke and her father were the greatest men in the entire world, there place in her eye's only being nearly matched by Tarquin. She had taken quite a fancy to him and he would be hard pressed to rid himself of her now.

"Ce-leste!" She was eager to get the girl's attention, now, swinging her legs from her chair and biting her lower lip in excitement. "Do you want to see my doll?" She looked over to her mother for permission to leave the table and go and get her.

"Oh, alright," she said, standing up and beginning to clear the table with Grace's help. "Don't even bother, dear," she said in that stern voice only a pioneer mother had upon seeing the look on Celeste's face. "It'll only take a few minutes." She and Grace had cleared the plates and were still tasking themselves with cleaning and putting them away when Eliza scrambled back down the stairs from the loft where her room was, clutching a precious doll tightly to her chest. She was the finest thing Eliza owned.

"Ce-leste," she said again, pushing her chair closer to Celeste's and carefully holding out the fine doll for her to friend to hold. The doll's porcelain face was unmarred and obviously well taken care of. Her hair was a rich brown color in perfectly spiraled curls with a bow, and her extravagant green dress was certainly finer than any of the dresses the women of the house owned. She had received the doll for her most recent birthday, Grace having a similar doll from when she was little girl as well. It had taken much saving and scraping money together, but each daughter had gotten the traditional porcelain doll that held so much sentimental value for their mother. "Grace has one too," she explained. "But she won't let me play with it." The dolls were off limits to each other unless given permission, a rule she strictly obeyed despite how unhappy it made her.

Grace had come back just at that time, smiling at her younger sister and the extreme pride she had in her fine china doll. Other than their mother's few valuable items from her childhood and family, the two dolls were some of the finest and most valuable things they owned. "Because she's so special to me," she explained gently to her sister, smiling at Celeste. The girl huffed, eyes brightening all of a sudden with a forgotten detail.

"Her name's Annabelle!" She took the doll back from Celete's hands then, jumping from her chair and darting around to Tarquin. "Doctor O'brien," she nearly tugged at his shirt to get his attention back from her father. "She got hurt once," she said in all seriousness, pointing out an invisible spot on her arm. "But I fixed her." She thought he should know since he had fixed her once.

"Eliza, why don't you put Annabelle away now so that she doesn't get hurt again." She arched a brow, looking at her daughter and forewarning her not to argue. "And for Heaven's sake, leave poor Doctor O'brien alone!" Once again, her daughter scampered off. She was clearly exasperated with trying to get the energetic girl to calm down and retain some form of civility around their company, but she never once raised her voice or grew impatient. She smiled at the doctor and Celeste, nodding in agreement that the red-head was indeed a pretty girl, seeing how uncomfortable it made her.

"All babies are beautiful," she added with a laugh, lovingly touching the side of Grace's face who was sitting next to her, quietly and obediently. "You were a quiet baby," she smiled at the returning memories, then laughed and rolled her eyes as Eliza came bounding back to rejoin the group. "This one, here," she said, snagging the back of her dress and pulling her up onto her lap, kissing her neck and again causing the girl to fill the house with her laughter. "This one is never quite out of energy."

She looked back at Celeste, again listening when she spoke about her mother. They certainly were an educated family. "My," she said with genuine wonderment. "That's an impressive list of languages." Out here, a family was educated if every member could read and write, which she was very grateful to be able to say was the case for the Grant family, Eliza of course doing her best to learn. "And you, dear? Do you speak French or Latin?" Seeing the girl's head drop was a pretty clear sign that she felt uncomfortable being the center of attention, but luckily for Celeste, little Eliza was there to save the day. It was for this reason only that Mrs. Grant allowed her to do it.

"Doctor O'brien knows Latin and French!" She proclaimed, having little concept of what it actually meant but knowing that it pertained to her currently favorite man in the room right now. "But he's from I-re-land," she struggled through it, pulling what she could from her memory of the word that had been used. "It's why he talks so pretty, Ma."

"Oh, is he?" She raised her eyebrows and nodded while smiling, indulging the girl in her innocent excitement.

"Yes." She looked over at her brother who had not been very involved in the conversation, so she decided to pull him into it. "Luke speaks Cheyenne," she said excitedly. She didn't have any exciting things to share about herself, so she volunteered his information for him.

His eyes widened but he laughed out loud. "Eliza! I don't speak Cheyenne."

She huffed, sitting back in her seat as if it were a huge letdown. "Well, he speaks to them," she corrected. "I saw him," she said directly to Celeste, giving the group a taste of how sassy she could be by completely shutting out her big brother since he wasn't providing the information she wanted him to. "He talked to them once."

He again laughed softly, doing his best to dismiss his little sister's comments and hoping Celeste and her uncle would take them as the unfiltered excitement of a five-year old. He sat up straighter, unconsciously letting his hand slip from Celeste's as he did whenever he was reminded of that pesky little thing he still had to tell her. "Don't feel like you have to stay," he stated to Tarquin and his niece. "We can go back into town whenever you are ready."

"Oh, but don't feel like you have to go, either!" His mother enjoyed having company. She was a sociable, hospitable woman who didn't get enough opportunities to play hostess and have good people over for a meal and a pleasant time. The community did their best to have picnics and group gatherings to temper the sting of how lonely it could get out here, but she was growing very fond of having Celeste and her uncle stop by.

[Celestine]

((Aww, Eliza! She’s the cutest thing ever. So, just so we’re clear, Celeste has figured him out. She’ll be more pissed that he doesn’t tell her when she asks and gets caught, haha! Or he can tell her and we avoid the argument entirely. Your call.))
 
“I used to wish mine wasn’t so unique,” she smiled. “My brother was lucky- he was named after our uncle, mostly. But an uncommon name nonetheless. My aunt and father are lucky- they have common first names.” But her mother’s was rare, her uncle was named after a Roman king, and her own was unique.
 
“Nay, Will was named for your uncle alone.” Tarquin lightly brushed one errant lock of hair out of her eyes.
 
“His middle name is similar to Daddy’s, though.” She responded in kind. Eliza chirped her full name then, and she laughed softly. “That’s right.” She beamed. She’d always wanted a younger sibling, but her parents had never had another after her. Logically, she knew it had to do with her problematic birth- her mother had nearly died after all- and also knew that the fact that she had delivered two children at all was a minor miracle. Still, she felt pity for her mama, who was as devoted and loving a mother as one could ever hope to find. Despite her tough exterior, she was nothing like most folks assumed she was, and her children obeyed her out of love and trust, not fear. But even Tarquin had not been able to assist Galatea in having another child, and neither of Celeste’s parents seemed upset by this turn of events, really. They hadn’t planned on Wilson Jonathan, and certainly not on the girl herself. Galatea had been nearly three
months along when Tarquin had realized she was even with child!
 
Eliza chirped her name again, and she smiled at the younger girl. She was a sweet thing, and the redhead nodded her agreement as the girl, clearly delighted, rushed from the table. She instinctively began to clear her own place, when Luke’s mother spoke softly but sternly, and she relaxed again with a nod. She would not offend by continuing, but it was clear she was accustomed to assisting with cleanup of daily meals. It was, her mother joked, a ‘southern thing’ that was ingrained in her, and her daughter as well, to always assist in these domestic matters. But Grace and Mrs. Grant were efficient and knew where everything went, which Celestine did not. Besides, Eliza came up to her at that moment, and she smiled again, carefully accepting the doll which was held out. It was certainly very pretty, and she admired the curls and the gown as the girl would have expected, smiling.
 
“Why, that’s a very pretty name,” she smiled when the girl, all movement, bounded to her uncle then, leaving her to smile at Luke and lightly stroke along the back of his hand before twining her fingers through his, in a gesture reminiscent of her mother. Her smile clearly said how lucky she thought he was that he had two siblings close to him in age.
 
Tarquin shifted his attention from the conversation to his niece, to young Eliza, back to the conversation with Luke’s father. But when the girl scrambled over, he chuckled and patted his knee, inviting the girl to sit with him if she so desired, not minding children at all. He glanced at the doll when she mentioned ‘fixing’ it, and he smiled, leaning down with a conspirators whisper. “Didja now?” He looked again, as though doubting her. “Ye did a good job. Soon ye’ll be old enough tae start learnin’ how tae take care o’ people.” He extended one hand to gently tousle her hair in a way that wouldn’t really cause any damage to her hairstyle. If there was one thing Tarquin O’Brien was, it was kind and compassionate. He taught rural families what little he could when it came to doctoring, closed their wounds, delivered their children. When her mother sent her scampering off again, he laughed outright. “She’s alright.” He shook
his head. “I dinnae mind children.”
 
“He loves them, in fact.” Celeste piped up with a smile. “He used to spoil my brother and I shamelessly when we were little. Whenever we wanted something, we knew enough to go to Uncle Tarr and Aunt Sarah.” Or, Will did. Depending on the situation, she would also go to her Daddy and pout, whine, and cajole until he gave in- or dismissed her, in which case she simply went to her aunt and uncle.
 
“Aye.” He smiled so that his dimples were showing. “Love this one as if she were me own flesh an’ blood.” He leaned over and she pecked him on the cheek, lightly.
 
“You raised us like we were, too.” It was no secret, her uncle was loved nearly as much as her biological father. Luke’s mother broke the tension then, and she nodded as her uncle did.
 
“This one was a serious babe. Quiet enough that her father didnae mind.” He chuckled. “Will, on the other hand…”
 
“Mama says he was a happy baby.”
 
“Aye, he was. But he wasnae as quiet as ye were.” He’d been always giggling, always looking up with that devilish smirk that made Tea, on more than one occasion, swear up and down that the devil himself had fathered her son, not Doc at all- to which the gunman usually had an amusing array of retorts to. As he grew to resemble his father, though, the teasing had slowly ceased- even if he looked more like his mother, the Holliday jawline and temperament were both on display in young Will. He chuckled as Eliza was caught up and her giggles filled the room. “This one reminds me o’ him when he were a lad. Never stopped laughin’.”
 
“Yeah.” Celeste missed that part of her brother. If her father was usually easily amused and joyful, Will was even more so, rarely serious, rarely upset. He had always laughed easily, and his smile was far more genuine than their fathers, most of the time. But since the death of Allison, he had not been amused and rarely smiled anymore. “He was hardly a very serious person.” Thankfully, the subject was changed then to languages. “No,” she answered truthfully. “I know a little French, and even less Latin.” She chuckled. She had a few handfuls of Latin phrases memorized, and a few words and phrases in French- even a little Gaelic from her uncle. But she didn’t technically speak it. “My parents tried to teach me a little, but I trip over my own tongue, especially with Latin.” Her brother was amused she couldn’t get the wording correct, and her father was amused when she tried to twist her tongue into Latin as well. “Uncle Tarr
started teaching us Gaelic when we were younger, but he stopped when Will started studying to become a doctor.” Her brother had begun learning from him, and he had less time to spend with Celeste, who had attached herself firmly to her father at that point.
 
She was still educated, though, and had a love for the written word. Her mother was a voracious reader, and had often read to Celeste as a young girl. She had been fascinated. Books could take her places she’d never been. She herself enjoyed schooling very much, and flirted with the idea of becoming a teacher from time to time. Not that she needed the money- of course not- but if she earned her own salary and she was, in fact, thinking on marrying Luke Grant (which she wasn’t!) this would make her an asset to the family. She was at that precocious age when she, if she wanted to, needed to plan for her future.
 
Eliza piped up again, and she laughed softly as her uncle shifted his gaze.
 
“Aye, lassie, but I didnae learn French or Latin in Irelan’.” He chuckled. This one was a character, that was for sure. She chirped again, this time about Luke, who looked like a wounded deer- wide, wild eyes. The doctor was about to intervene, when the girl corrected herself.
 
“Of course he does,” Celeste smiled reassuringly. After all, he had Cleo, and she was an Indian pony. It would only make sense that he would speak to the Cheyenne. She thought back to the traders the day before. Had he known them? Spoken to them, even? She had heard only good things about the Cheyenne from her uncle and mother- her uncle went to them often enough. He was slowly gaining their confidences, bringing them medicines and blankets. Her mother had gone along a few times, even, and so had Aunt Sarah, once or twice. Tarquin liked having company on these lonely trips. The only ones who had never gone with him were her father and Uncle Walker. Her father, obviously due to his health, and the fact that his guns would be cause for concern, and Uncle Walker for his mistrust of local tribes. But Luke dropped her hand, then, and she looked at him curiously before taking it back, firmly.
 
When she wanted to be, she could be as bull-headed as her father. She wanted his attention back on her, and instead of a playful swat she took his hand in hers again. He acted… funny… when people mentioned the Cheyenne. And her mother had mentioned some things… high cheekbones, dark hair and eyes, skin tone- all things her daughter noticed in Luke Grant. In fact, she had started to wonder if maybe Luke wasn’t part Cheyenne, from his reactions and the way he got so self-conscious around her family. She didn’t care, of course. Her parents were sharp- surely they had noticed as well- and neither objected to her being with him. Well, aside from the normal reaction of all fathers when their pretty young daughter starts getting serious with a young man. He shifted the conversation smoothly, though, and she frowned slightly. Just what was Luke up to? Why did he want them to leave?
 
Thankfully, Tarquin had an excuse.
 
“I wish we could stay longer, but I promised me nephew I’d look at his daughter.”
 
“Annie?” Celeste looked up. “Is she alright?”
 
“Aye. Will is being daft.” He sighed. “He took losing Allie harder than he has a right to.” A shake of his head. “Poor lad lost his wife in childbed.” He murmured. Everyone knew, of course. They had seen the younger doctor with his daughter, after all. Not many knew how she had gone, though. “Doubts himself constantly.”
 
“It was hardly his fault,” his sister argued.
 
“Try tellin’ Will that, ‘Lessie.” He chuckled. Eliza looked forlorn when she realized they were leaving, and he scooped her up for another hug. “You, my wee sweet lassie! I’ll come by tae see ye soon, alright?”
 
“And I’ll come by when he does,” Celeste promised. She might even bring something along next time. She opened her arms as well for the expected hug, her uncle chuckling as he was released so she could wrap herself around the redheaded girl. “You be good for your mama now, okay?” She set the girl down gently, saying her goodbyes with a smile, but clearly none too pleased to be leaving so soon. She liked the Grant family very much, and would even if she and Luke were not seeing one another. She was the one who tugged Luke outside, though- her uncle was extending a dinner invitation that was too good to just pass up, and had been arranged by her aunt and mother, who would both be crushed if they didn’t attend. While he was coaxing them into saying yes, she took the chance to speak with Luke, quietly.
 
“You’re all tense,” she said it softly, stepping in just a little closer than was proper. “Is everything alright, darling?” The title was clearly a family favorite, even if she properly kept the ‘g’ on the end. Her eyes were slightly suspicious, but she was hoping he would tell her the truth. She liked him, and she wasn’t going anywhere, nomatter what he said.

[Doc_Holliday]

Her happy chatter stopped abruptly when she realized that Tarquin and Celeste were leaving. It didn't matter that he had other patients to see, all that mattered was that he would no longer be there for her to play with. And it wasn't even dark, yet.

"But it's not dark yet," she argued, looking rather heartbroken.

"That's why we should get going now," Luke tried to explain to his sister gently.

"'Cause of the Indians?" She asked bluntly. She was young but she knew the risks and dangers of living where she lived. It had been quite some time since the Dog Soldiers had attacked white settlers in this area. They traveled across the territories and made sweeps along various towns and communities but they hadn't been seen in this area for quite some time. The reservation nearest to them now was generally filled with people that did not want trouble and simply wanted to live side-by-side with the white men with as little interference as possible, but that didn't mean there weren't dissenters. Dog Soldiers were aggressive and out for blood, causing people to fear and hate all Cheyenne.

"Now, Eliza, you know the Indians around here are peaceful," her father spoke up then, casting his gaze around the room reassuringly. There was currently no cause for concern. They didn't bother the Grant family anyway. They often approached Luke when he was out and welcomed him back among them, away from the white men but he would not go. He wasn't full-blood but their numbers and way of life were dwindling, and he was a strong young man, valuable and potentially helpful to the Tribe. Luke had no idea how Tarquin had managed to get them to occasionally accept his help, but he had not stepped foot near that reservation since he was very young, scared to death of running into his mother again who he believed had abandoned him.

"Still, it's smart to travel in daylight when possible, isn't it?" Mr Grant continued. It was a reasonable goal.

"Yes, Pa," she reluctantly agreed even though it meant her good friends were leaving. She turned to face Tarquin just in time as he scooped her up into his arms for a hug. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly, nodding vigorously when he promised to come back soon. He swung her back down to the ground and she wrapped her arms around Celete's neck next. "Good!" She exclaimed, fully expecting her to keep that promise as well. "I will," she said solemnly, glancing over to her mother with a big, innocent grin.

"Mm, we'll see," she said with a laugh. She took Celeste's hand in hers briefly, giving it a squeeze, first looking to her and then to Tarquin. "Thank you very much for coming out, both of you. I would love to have you stay longer." She understood, of course, the need for him to get on with his day. Grace said her quiet but polite goodbyes as well, staying behind her mother as the doctor lingered to try and convince the Grants to come for a meal with his family in town.

"Oh, Doctor O'brien," she said, suddenly blushing and becoming very aware of her appearance. Her hand flew to her hair to pat it and make sure it was still in place and she straightened out the non-existent wrinkles from her dress out of habit. Even their Sunday finest would leave them lacking.

Mr. Grant stood at his wife's side having just shaken the doctor's hand in thanks and goodbye. He looked at his wife questioningly before directing his gaze to Luke who stood back aways with Celeste. He had gone into town for an evening with them, and it was against his better conscience to refuse a formal invitation. He had an arm around the back of Alice Grant, giving her a reassuring squeeze and finally nodding. "I'm sure we would all love to join you, Doctor O'brien, thank you kindly for the invitation."

Meanwhile, Celeste had pulled Luke outside, something clearly bothering her. He forced himself to stay rooted to his spot when she came in so close to him. He knew that she had learned from her mother how to behave around men to get what she wanted out of them, and it was entirely effective, and made shy Luke completely uncomfortable. He laughed nervously when she pointed out how tense he was, it being more of a short exhale of air that he hadn't realized he had been holding in.

"Everything's alright," he murmured, unable to muster a convincing change of expression or tone. At her touch he relaxed a bit, but he had trouble looking at her. He looked utterly defeated, suddenly, casting his gaze down to the ground before swallowing hard and looking back up to meet her piercing blue gaze. There was suspicion in her eyes, but no judgment that he could detect. He was too smart to not realize that she had beaten him to it, already suspecting without even knowing that Alice Grant was not his birth mother. "Celeste, I-," he paused, looking hopeless and scratching the back of his head as he always did when he felt under pressure. It was a simple statement, really. In ten seconds it could be over and all he would have to do was accept her reaction. The problem was he didn't know if he would be able to accept it, depending on what it was.

'I need to tell you something,' is what he wanted to say next, and he was waiting for the courage to do so when the door to their home creaked open, a little face peering up at them. He blinked and looked down at the crack in the door before it swung open all the way and Eliza shot out, one of her hands gripping Tarquin's and her other reaching for Celeste's.

"Ce-leste," she said brightly. "Pa and Ma said I could ride with you!"

Spared for the time being, Luke accepted this distraction but gave her a skeptical look. "Are you sure?" He looked behind her to where his parents stood, and they shrugged their shoulders.

"She makes a good case for herself. By the time you come back it'll be time for bed and she will go, no arguments, right?" Mrs. Grant looked at her expectantly and smiled at her energetic daughter when she nodded, bending down to kiss her on the cheek, and pecking Luke on the cheek as well. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "Be careful."

He shook his head that she needn't be sorry but gave an apologetic look to Celeste, not for Eliza joining them but that they had been interrupted. "Well, if we need to have you back for bedtime," he said with a mischievous smile while lifting her up and seating her on the driver's side of the wagon, "I guess we should head off." He helped Celeste up so that she again sat in the middle with her uncle on the outside before climbing up and rearranging his sister so that she sat in his lap. She clutched the extra leather from the reins in her small hands, loving to pretend to drive the team. With excited waves from the youngest passenger he urged the team onward, and the group of travelers had no worries about being entertained with Eliza present. She provided a running commentary for the things they saw and she was knowledgeable about, such as a particular plant or animal. Her sharp eyes could always point out an antelope, blending into the golden grass.

It was nearing sunset by the time they got into town. He stopped in front of the clinic first so that Tarquin could finish there and close up while Luke, Celeste, and Eliza walked the street outside of the clinic for a few minutes. She had only been into town a few times with her family, and each new sight drew a breath of amazement or a squeal of delight. She clung to Celeste's skirt, not open with strangers but enjoying looking into the shop windows. All the while, Luke tried his best to remain normal, but there was a slight tension between him and Celeste that he hated. Already feeling like he had irreparably damaged what they had, he slipped further back into his shell that Celeste had been drawing him out of. Still, as much as Doc Holliday said he was a terrible liar, he was good at putting on a brave face and going on with the evening as normal, which to Celeste may have seemed like he was simply content to continue with his lie until she found out herself.

Eliza had never met Celeste's entire family before, but the tall lady that looked like Celeste seemed safe enough. She stood behind Luke before growing more comfortable with them but then quickly became her normal self and followed them inside when they were invited, not being shy about gawking at their home. It was so big and so pretty! It was like a doll house she had seen one time when she was in town, but big enough for real people.

"Luke," she tugged at her brother's pants and he bent down, leaning in so that he could hear her soft whisper. "It's so big."

"I know," he said with a smile. "It's pretty isn't it?" She nodded, grinning. He straightened himself back out and looked at Celeste who was still standing next to him. "We are going to have quite a problem when it comes time to leave. You may have just gotten yourself a little sister," he said with a faint smile. He watched as Eliza returned to Tarquin's side, staying glued to the Irishman and hardly allowing him to give any attention to his fiance.

Sarah was amused with the girl's sudden shift in behavior. Tarquin had warned them that she may be shy, and she indeed had been at first, but once she warmed up to them she somehow made every one of her new friends laugh and adore her without even trying. It had been awhile since she had interacted with children at her age. They were still so young, but learning quickly, and their insight into things could sometimes be very surprising. Her soon-to-be husband was spectacular with children. It showed clearly in the way that Eliza just fawned over him, and Sarah hoped to soon give him children of his own to love and spoil. For now, she sat back and let Eliza have him for the evening, laughing out loud several times throughout the girl's visit.

(Getting a bit long so I'm stopping here. Sorry it's a monster. You can either assume they go home in your post, or I can do it in my next if they need to respond to something still "tonight". I figure she can "find out" if/when they try and go to the reservation, at which point he'll tell her after it's already obvious and he has no other choice and she can be angry because it was way too late haha.)

[Galatea]

((We’ll stay on the same day till Missyu gets a chance to catch up and post. Celeste is already getting mad at him, lol. Ending = AWKWARD. Wtf Tarquin! Wait till you’re married, sheesh! Mightttt edit, Kaze- tell me what to change, lol!))
 
Tarquin frowned when heartbroken eyes looked up at his, sighing. He loved children, and seeing one with that hurt little face nearly broke his heart. But Luke and his father were reassuring, even as Celeste’s eyes widened slightly. She’d heard reports of the dangerous Dog Soldiers, of course she had. Her father made sure she was kept up to speed on these things in his casual way, which she of course loved him all the more for. Even though her mother insisted that these were not typical, she still shuddered to think of them. Of course, out here there were also the Apache to worry about- and they were vicious. She’d heard they scalped people, taking a portion of a victims hair (and occasionally a portion of their skull and tissue, etc.), and they were prone to violence. They tended to keep away from society, preferring to attack those of the fringe of society- and that made one nervous indeed. Still, Mr. Grant’s voice was reassuring and quelled her
fears.
 
“Aye, I wish we could stay longer.” He smiled. Celeste accepted Mrs. Grant’s hand when it was offered, returning the slight squeeze, looking equally unhappy that she had to leave so soon, but pleased when she heard that the invitation which her family had extended was accepted. That meant the whole family would meet her family, finally. But Luke followed her outside, quietly, and looked mighty nervous when she came in so close. But it was instinctual when it came to Celestine Holliday, having two parents who bucked the societal norm. Her mother stood even closer to her father.
 
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not being honest with me?” She frowned slightly. He relaxed when she reached up to lightly trace a finger across his cheek, but looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he started and trailed off, she let hope linger in her eyes. Maybe he trusted her enough. Maybe, maybe… but before he could continue, Eliza burst out of the house, dragging Tarquin along with her. She looked excited, and the reason was quickly known- she got to come with them back to town. Goodbyes were said, and while she allowed Luke to help her up, she sat closer to Tarquin this time around, her posture radiating tension. That slender but feminine frame was like a coiled snake, and the healer looked at her suspiciously. She was normally very quiet, but like her father in temperament. The ride passed easily, though- she still laughed at Eliza’s antics. Tarquin helped her out of the wagon this time, but Eliza clung to her skirt, which she did not mind.
 
She led the girl up a little ways, letting her peek into the windows as her uncle locked down the clinic. Will, having managed to pry himself from his daughter and Abigail for a few minutes, arrived to help, looking at the little girl with a grin before crouching down to be more on her level, in a nonthreatening manner. She shyly clung to Celeste’s skirt, though.
 
“Why, who’s this?” He glanced up at Celeste.
 
“Eliza Grant. Eliza, this is my older brother, Will.” Poor girl didn’t need to stumble over his full first name. “She’s shy,” she mouthed at him, and he chuckled and winked at the little girl before rising back to his full height. He was tall and slender like their father, so no doubt intimidating to the young girl. He leaned in swiftly to kiss his sisters cheek, which caused Eliza to scoot behind the safety of Celeste’s body.
 
“Well, now I can say I’m enjoying the company of two of the prettiest girls in town.” He shook his head as his uncle came back out. Their home wasn’t too far, so the group decided to walk, the pace unhurried (mostly due to Eliza’s wide-eyed wonderment at the windows and displays), and as they headed back to the house a giggle caught their attention from around back. He shook his head as his mother came out of the house.
 
“Where have ya been? We were…” she trailed off as she noticed the shy, dark head peeping out from around her daughters’ skirt. Instantly reprimanding her son for his tardiness went out the window, and a smile slid naturally into place. “Well, hello there.” She leaned down, hands on her knees, trying to catch another glimpse as the face turned into Celeste’s side.
 
“She’s really shy,” she said with a chuckle. “Eliza, this is my Mama.” She nudged the girl slightly, and big brown eyes looked up. Celeste’s ma was TALL! But she had a pretty smile and nifty hair, and she smiled back timidly.
 
“Well, aren’t ya just the cutest thing?” The girl perked up somewhat, then. She sure talked pretty! Not as pretty as Doctor O’Brien, though. “Everyone’s out back, fawnin’ over Annie.” She opened the door, which was taken by her son, out of sheer politeness. “Thank ya, honey.” She smacked him on the cheek lightly. The girl’s wonder at the house made her shake her head with a grin. A firecracker, that one. They didn’t linger inside long, though, the scene outside normal. The baby had immediately taken a shine to Abigail, and was burbling happily with the woman. Essie was standing near Sarah, who had immediately risen and been kissed gently by her fiancé. Tea caught the jealous look from the little girl, though, and hid her mouth behind her hand to hide her amusement. The girl was clinging to Luke now- and Celestine had immediately distanced herself.
 
She had gone directly to her father, in fact, taking the empty spot beside him that was normally reserved for her mother, pecking him on the cheek before she dropped her head onto his shoulder, something she had not really done since she was a much younger girl- still small enough that she was allowed to curl up in his lap, in fact. But the one man she had always counted on to not let her down was her Daddy- and he never had. A frown threatened Tea’s good mood. Why was their normally outgoing, happy daughter suddenly attaching herself to his hip? A brow quirked but she made no comment, Doc’s affection for their daughter a well-known fact. He may not have been a doting father, but he was still her father.
 
“Well, Miss Eliza!” She grinned again. “This is Sarah.” She indicated the blonde woman who was near Tarquin. “This is my Mama, Essie.” The dark woman glanced up, slightly surprised, but smiling as she came closer to study the child clinging to her older brother. “That is Celeste’s daddy,” she indicated the man who the young redhead was cuddled against, just sitting there. No words were spoken- no words were needed. She just wanted the solidity of her father right now. “This is Abigail.” She smiled at the girl. She liked her, very sweet and proper, if quiet around strangers. “And this little miss…” she scooped up Annie who squealed with delight, “is Annie. Will is her daddy.” She said as he took the baby from his mother, rubbing noses playfully.
 
“Daddy?” Celeste glanced up as the gunman moved, obviously for his nightly poker game. Her mother wasn’t dressed as usual, so she would be staying home for the evening. She stood to peck him on the cheek, though. “Night, Daddy.”
 
“Have fun, sugar.” Tea kissed him a bit more warmly than usual. She knew he was just as good without her in his lap, but they were usually together. Tonight manners dictated she stay- it would have been rude to change attire while Abigail was here, and rude to leave while they had company. She might, if her mood warranted it, change and head out once everyone was gone, but it was unlikely due to having scant few hours of sleep the previous night. She would make do with a normal pillow until he slid into bed with her and she could abandon the substitute for the real one.
 
“I’m going to go up.” Celeste said it with an over-exaggerated yawn. “Goodnight, Mama.” She pecked the woman on the cheek, repeating the gesture with her aunt Sarah, Essie, Will, and Tarquin. She snuggled Annie for a moment, then bent down and hugged Eliza. “Goodnight, Eliza.” She straightened and pecked Luke chastely on the cheek, almost as though the move was automatic. “Goodnight, Luke.” Now her mother did frown as she followed her father into the house.
 
“Well… I’m sure you need to get this one home, Luke, honey.” She indicated the little girl. The child was slowly coming out of her shell, and clinging to Tarquin. The big man was not having any sort of issue with her clinging, encouraging it even if poor Sarah was playing second fiddle to the child at this point. He loved children. Period.
 
---
 
She couldn’t sleep. Galatea should have been out like a light by the time he came home, but she was wide awake when he quietly came in. There were no hushed giggles or groping to find his way when he was alone, and had it not been for the faint creak of the door she would not have known he was even home. She rolled over to face his general direction, moonlight giving her just his figure in silhouette. “I’m not sleepin’,” she said it softly, striking a match to light one of the candles beside the bed, preferring the soft, muted light to the bright lamps at this hour. It cast just enough light for her to see him, but it was a soft kind of light. She watched him shed his many weapons, noting with some amusement that his gun belt and shoulder holster joined her own knives, as did the sharp blade he himself carried. She waited until he lay beside her to roll into him, claiming his side and the majority of his chest as well, head over his heart to enjoy the soft thudding cadence. A smile tugged at her lips.
 
“Mmmm… better than a pillow,” she purred it sleepily. The candlelight flecked his eyes with gold when she raised herself on one elbow. It also gilded her hair, she was sure. “Celeste isn’t acting herself.” She said it softly, stroking one hand over his shoulder. She had checked on their daughter and found her making those soft, hiccupping sounds that told she had cried herself to sleep, but not the reason. Luke had clearly still been near her- there was some minor tension there, but nothing to make her cry, certainly. She lightly tracked her hand up to brush an errant lock of blonde hair off his forehead, leaning down to brush a welcoming kiss to his lips before settling back to her conversation. Touching him was a distraction, at times, and she missed him when they were apart, no matter how short the time was. It reminded her of those early years when he had left, both before and after she had changed names.
 
“I worry for that girl, sometimes.” She sighed. “She’s too much like I was at that age. Too headstrong. She fell for him too hard.” And the consequences could be dire, if this was indeed a lovers spat. “Like I did you.” Worried green eyes flicked to his. “If he leaves her, she’s liable to be unpredictable.” A dangerous combination with her mixed blood. She had the wild and passionate Sullivan, but the moody and deadly Holliday, mixed into a stunning concoction of a girl. But it worried her greatly. “She trusts ya far more than me. See if ya can get anythin’ out of her?” She sighed. “When my baby cries herself to sleep, I want to know why.”
 
---
 
Tarquin couldn’t sleep. He was innocently playing with Sarah’s long hair, using the tip of her loose night braid to tickle her nose, just to watch it twitch under his ministrations. He was feeling playful, frisky, even. It was rare for him to be in such a mood, but usually took advantage of a clear night like this, when he was feeling particularily affectionate, to remind her of her place in his life.
 
He dipped in to nuzzle at her neck, purring just slightly against her skin. “Sarah….” He purred the name, gently. “Sarah….” She made a sleepy sound of protest as he stroked down her arm. “Come, me darlin’ lass. Come to Tarquin…” he waited for her eyes to open, patiently, like a cat. He’d lit a few candles so he could see her better, though with his heightened senses he could see her just as well without. It was more for her benefit- that and he liked the ethereal glow it gave her skin and hair, totally gilding her in the soft light.
 
“I love ye,” he murmured softly, taking her lips with his, gently. “So verra much.”

[Doc_Holliday]

Luke stood by himself in the Holliday household doing a considerably fine job of hiding his level of discomfort. At least Eliza was still flitting back and forth between himself and Tarquin, who was trying to best to divide his attention between Eliza and his fiance. Luke had to smile, the girl so wrapped up in her affections for the doctor that she probably didn't even realize she was stealing him away from everyone else.

"Come here, Eliza," he said kindly, dark eyes darting over to Celeste as she issued a goodnight. She gave him an empty kiss on the cheek, but he mustered a smile and a goodnight in response, then watched her disappear up the stairs to her room. Once again saved by Celeste's mother, he nodded and looked back down at his youngest sister. "Yes, I should."

She whipped her head around to look at him but said nothing in protest. She accepted his hand when he held it out for her to take to walk back to the horses, but she pulled away at the last second, rushing over to Tarquin and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Goodnight!" She chirped happily, smiling at both Sarah and Galatea before rushing back over to her brother. Celeste had already left, so she could not give her a hug. This was disappointing, but the girl had said she would come back soon so she would see her again.

"Goodnight Tea, ma'am, Miss Sarah," his attention fell upon each member of the family as he bid his goodnight. "Sir," he said lastly to Tarquin, a nod of his head in agreement that he would return in the morning. Both Luke and Eliza took their leave then, not being able to get out of there quick enough. He had actually been so glad that Eliza had joined them. She had provided entertainment and distraction for both Luke and Celeste, the tension between them still present. Part of Luke believed that Celeste had figured out his secret and that was why she was being cold to him. Her reaction to the traders they had seen in town made him believe that this was not the issue, though, causing him to rack his brain for what it was that was bothering her. He had a nagging realization that it was probably the fact that he had lied to her, or at least omitted the full truth from her.

Eliza was as bubbly as usual on the way home, but lowered her voice to a whisper in the fading light of the day, not wanting to disturb the quiet peacefulness of the open country at night. As promised, she went to bed shortly after they got home. Luke finished taking care of their animals and drifted off to sleep shortly after, only to rise again in the morning and make the trek back into town for Doctor O'brien.

-

It was easy to see that Celeste was distancing herself from the boy that had so tightly held her affections earlier in the day. He looked uncomfortable, clearly aware that she was seeking comfort from her gun-toting father and having no power to do anything about it. Celeste didn't seem to care, learning and employing the cold, silent attitude as punishment from her mother. Doc allowed her to burrow into him when she approached him, wrapping one arm around her slender shoulders in his comforting way. No matter how much he liked, or rather didn't mind Luke, he would always side with his own flesh and blood over anyone else.

"Night, Darlin'," he said, giving her a peck on the top of her head when she said goodnight. He stayed until she seemed ready to go up anyway, then took his leave, swinging by Galatea and giving her a kiss on the lips before casually heading out for the night. He gave Luke a nod as he passed him, as well as as much acknowledgement as he believed five year olds needed and went on his way. Eliza hadn't been as playful with him, sensing he was a man apart from Doctor O'brien or even her Pa. But the rest of the family was good enough for her, and she had been sad to leave them and their pretty house.

He had a good night, as usual, Galatea's absence not noted in his skill by any of the other players. He was just as dangerous at a table without the beautiful red-head ornamenting his lap as a distraction. He stayed long and played hard, finally resolving to call it a "night" as the dark night sky was beginning to turn into a deep blue with the promise of morning. He returned quietly to their home, but Galatea always woke up when he came back without her, and he slipped into their bed for a few short hours of rest. He could tell something was on her mind. In the quiet and seclusion of their own bedroom was when she most frequently voiced her concerns to him, and he was usually conscious enough to listen.

His arm was under her, the slight pressure of her head and hand on his chest not having the expected effect and actually comforting him. He chuckled when she mentioned that Celeste was too much like she was at that age, but doubted it was the young man that they had to worry about leaving. "She knows she can talk to me," he responded, knowing she was enough like him to hate having her business pried into. Still, if Tea said she heard her crying at night, there was something very seriously troubling the girl, since she didn't cry without a damn good reason.

"I'll see what I can do," he promised, kissing her on the cheek where she lay close to him.

-

Across the hall, Tarquin was also awake, soon to be joined by Sarah. From her dream, she heard her name tugging her back to wakefulness. She resisted, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she felt a tickling brush at the tip of her nose. She gave a sound of protest but granted his request when he called her to him.

"Tarquin," she answered with his name as he repeated hers. "Is this revenge?" she asked sleepily without opening her eyes. She always woke him up in a fashion similar to this in the morning, eager to see his bright blue eyes and hear his melodic, Irish voice. There was a soft flickering glow that she could detect through her eyelids, and she peeled her eyes open to stare straight into Tarquin's face. He was patiently waiting for her to join him, the candles giving him an ethereal radiance through her sleep clouded eyes and causing her to twitch with silent laughter. "I love you more," she purred back. She reached up to kiss those lips that were so close to hers.

She could tell what was on his mind, had seen the way he lit up around little Eliza. He took to kids like no other man she had ever seen and she enjoyed watching him work his charm with them. She knew what he wanted almost more than anything. She reached a delicate hand up to play with the hair right above his ear.

"Soon, my love." Another deep kiss, and she brought him back down to rest his head near her, curling herself up into his arms and perfectly content to remain that way, for now.

-

Morning came quickly after he got back in. He woke much in the same position he had drifted off in. Galatea had her hair and arms strewn across him comfortably in a morning sight that was familiar to him. Tarquin and Sarah had beaten them to rise as usual, and Sarah was probably downstairs with her fiance, fussing over him and helping Mama Essie with breakfast. Doc and Tea took their time getting up and dressed, and it seemed this morning, Celeste did as well. Something clearly on her mind, she nearly ran into him as she came hurriedly from her room. He laughed and grabbed her by the shoulders to steer her back on course.

"Going somewhere fast?" Now that he had gotten her to slow down he could see that she was quite frazzled but with a sort of determination in her face that he had seen many times on Tea. She had taken extra time to fix her hair and select an outfit though, and he quirked a brow at her. It was his way of prompting anything that was on her mind without even hinting that he knew what was bothering her. It was clearly a problem with that boy, that didn't need to be said. If she wanted to brush over it, he would allow it. But if she had anything she wanted to say to him, he was listening.

-

He stood with one leg crossed over the other and leaned against one of the massive chestnut horses, stroking him every once in awhile. He kept his gaze low and inconspicuous, patient and calm as he waited for the doctor to meet him at the clinic. He had a feeling that Celeste would not be accompanying them today, not after the previous evening. At this point in time he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Not seeing her would mean he could avoid that awful tension and awkwardness between them, but if she showed up maybe not all was lost.

She was a smart girl, no doubt about it, but he was still on the fence about whether or not she had figured him out. If she hadn't and he told her now, he risked her hating him not only for being half Indian, but also for lying to her. If she had, she was probably already upset with him for not telling her. Either way, he wasn't exactly a winner. It took off a bit of the pressure he felt, just assuming that he had lost her, but still made his stomach twist to realize that he had to probably face her first. If he told her, or she already knew, and she ended up hating him, she could tell others. Word would spread quicker than a brush fire and he would be finished in this town. He still ran a risk in telling her.

He looked up when he heard footsteps approaching, the fashionably dressed doctor making his large strides towards his clinic with a determined pace. On his arm, and surprising Luke somewhat, was Celeste. He had to blink several times to get his mind going again, straightening up immediately and staring at her openly. He felt safe to do so because she was blatantly ignoring him, attention fully on her uncle, a passerby, anyone and thing but him. She looked beautiful, though, and she carried her head a little higher and with more assumption than she usually did.

"Good morning, Tarquin, Sir," he said as brightly as he could for the doctor, dropping his gaze before tacking on "Celeste," to the greeting. He stood, assuming his lowly position with her demeanor or high-class and arrogance she was displaying for him now, nodding to himself as if to signify that he understood something she hadn't even said. "I'll wait here," he said as Tarquin breezed inside his clinic to gather necessary supplies and get things in order for his partner. He wasn't looking up, and so he wasn't sure if Celeste had followed him or not, but when she shifted her weight and he heard the rustle of her gown he knew that she had stayed.

His dark eyes snapped back up to her then, a spark of confidence there, now. He cared for her deeply, and wanted nothing more than for her to accept him as he was. If she could not, there was nothing in the world he could do to change it, and as much as it hurt him, so it would just have to be.

"Celeste," he finally said after a few moments of silence. His voice was still gentle and he struggled to find the words to explain himself, but was unapologetic. He could not help who he was, could not change it, so he would not apologize for that aspect of the situation. "Last night, we were interrupted..." he trailed off like he was giving her the chance to remember, as if she didn't. "I had something to tell you."

Again, he swallowed hard, trying his damnedest to maintain eye contact with her and succeeding for the most part in keeping his expression emotionless. "My Ma, Alice," he said, still fumbling. "She's-," what was the wording he was looking for? "She's not my real Ma," he finally managed to say, despite hating the implication of his statement. She was every bit his real mother to him as she would have been if she had given birth to him herself. He paused, giving this a minute to sink in before nodding and letting out a shaking breath before continuing. "My mother...." his gaze was no longer on Celeste's eyes but rather an apparently fascinating place on her dress. "She's Cheyenne Indian." There was no other place to go from there, and every muscle in his body tense as if he wanted to run. "Or, she was," he said, looking confused and letting the first show of emotion come through now that the hardest part was over. If he just kept talking, he wouldn't have to hear a response from her. "I don't even know anymore. I don't even know what happened to her."

He looked to be experiencing a bizarre conflict of emotion and switched back and forth between looking like the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders, and like he was still scared to death of the petite red-head in front of him. "I can't apologize for that," he said, all confidence rushing away from him, because this was the part he actually was responsible for. "But I can apologize for lying to you about it. About me." He didn't cheapen it with excuses, only snuck a glance upwards to her face to try and work out what she was thinking, and nearly grimacing in anticipation of either verbal or physical assault.

[Mistress_Unknown]

((I hate you all. Just so you know. My eyes feel like their burning from reading all that. <3

Also, is it weird that the song Call me Maybe is stuck in my head when I think of Abby/Will?))

She dared not assume that she would be well liked, but the greeting from Will’s sister was enough to make her smile a bit wider than usual. Her face was still tinted from his kissing her hand, something she guessed she would have to get used too, and looked at the girl gently. She was easy to spot in a crowd, her hair saw to that, but Abby found it to be a fetching color on the girl. She was slightly taller than Abby, but it was her outgoing presence that made Abby nearly step back from the greeting. Social situations had never really been her forte, but she gently nodded to the younger girl. “I am pleased to meet you.” She said quietly, almost reaching into her bag to give the girl her gift when the Irish man spoke as well and she gave an indulgent smile. So many greetings at once! And Will was talking about her? Interesting...

“I am afraid the only things I have been told about any of you is that you-” she gestured to Celeste, “-have your mother’s hair and you-” a motion to Tar with a smile “-are marrying an Aunt of Will’s and are the other Doctor in the town.” She said quietly, not mentioning that he had asked for her help. Let Will tell them that. She looked at Luke and tilted her head curiously. He moved different. He did not move like the others in this city. He was different. But her eyes diverted back to Will as they climbed up to leave, once again leaving Abby without the chance to give the gifts she had brought. She swallowed a sigh and shook her head with a chuckle. “I will admit I am not used to such attention.” She said quietly, taking his hand and following him to his home. She was grateful he had forgotten, or was putting off, looking at her wrist. It had only been a few hours and the bruise was much lighter. Almost inhumanly lighter. And that may bring up questions she did not care to answer.

She listened carefully to his warning about his father and nodded slightly. “I understand.” She whispered. She doubted the woman rumored around town would be too much trouble. Nosy was not a problem, as long as she did not mind a worthy opponent in the question game. She almost let a fox-like smirk cover her face at the thought of perhaps meeting someone who could hold their own against her wit, but it vanished as quickly as it ghosted across her face. Did her eyes glimmer yellow for a moment? Oh, nonsense, that was just the light. She floated inside the home, taking in as much as she could in the short moments between her entering and a noise she loved more than any other in the world: a child’s happy squeal.

Her eyes instantly snapped to the small girl who was calling Will ‘Daddy’ as she closed her Parasol and hung in off her wrist. She remained quiet as she noticed a black woman hand the child over to Will and she smiled. Her assumptions were correct and she was much more at ease. She gently nodded at the black woman and moved closer to the child. She so desperately wanted to hold a child again. Children did not come in for Readings. And she was not allowed to entertain children anymore. But no, she had more people to greet first. The woman whose reputation preceded her stood before her and for a moment Abby felt like she should look away. It was like meeting some famous person who she admired for a long time was suddenly there. She nodded at the mention of her name but her interest was piqued when they mentioned a garden.

Get anything to grow? Even the challenging herbs that took Abby and her grandmother months to coax into bloom? She’d have to test this woman, if she got the chance. But the garden was incredibly beautiful and Abby found herself looking around with a happy and lost look. It reminded herself of the life she had in Whales with her grandmother that she almost allowed herself to cry in joy. Almost. But before she could, Will motioned to two blondes in the garden, one female and one not. One was his Aunt Sarah, and she assumed it to be the engaged one, and she smiled and nodded her head. But for the man, Will’s father, she found herself particularly fascinated. His movements and posture screamed a man who never talked but always spoke and she curtsied. “Hello.” She said simply, feeling like he was not a person to mince words unless he wanted to. She looked back over at Sarah and smiled warmly. “I am as well.”

But as she finished the normal greetings, she found herself the object of attention from one small female, and despite herself, she kneeled and looked the little one in the eyes. “Hello there.” She said with a gentle grin. “So you are Will’s little one. What might your name be?” She asked in a light tone so very different from the one earlier. But instead of a straight answer, the child wanted to be picked up and Abby was all too happy to indulge her as she wrapped her hands around the young girl and lifted her up, leaving her journal on the ground as she settled the young girl on the side that had the satchel. It made up for a lack of a hip in her lineage, and she bent over to pick up her journal, expertly balancing the child as she did. Once her journal was placed on a nearby table, Abby busied herself with holding the young one and answering Tea’s question. “Yes. My step-father moved us out here very recently from Europe.” She replied, giving her just enough to want more but staying reserved. A devious look ghosted her face again as she met the woman’s eyes, encouraging and coaxing the woman into the game of information. “I hear that you won your hair in a poker game with the devil.” She retorted, sending out one of the more outlandish rumors she had heard since moving here.

But the game would have to wait a moment, the little one was demanding Abby’s attention and she turned a happy smile to the girl and nodded. “Of course, little bird, I would not forget about you.” She commented. “Do you like magic tricks, little bird?” She asked, taking a piece of paper from her satchel and sitting on a nearby chair, the little on in her lap. She took the paper and showed it to the little one and grinned. “I am going to make this piece of paper into a flower. Just like Miss Holliday can make plants grow, I can make magic flowers from paper. Would you like to see?” She asked, calling Tea by the last name she assumed she had. It was Will’s last name after all. After receiving a positive from Annie, she smiled and began folding the paper into a paper lily. She was good at origami, but she was not done yet. She brought the paper lily to the young one’s face and smiled gently. “Now give it a kiss, little bird. Magic does not work without a kiss.” She said and kissed the other side that Annie did. “Now, blow on it and the magic flower will be done.” She said. Once Annie did, the paper flower was consumed in a soft flash of gold sparkles for a few seconds and a real lily was instead in her hand, the petals sporting markings similar to kiss marks. She smiled and handed the lily to Annie. “There you are, little bird. A magic flower for you.” She said and gently put the little girl down. She looked at the crowd around her and looked down with a blush. “Simply a parlor trick.” She murmured quietly.

She was slightly nervous again. It had been a while since she had used magic to entertain a child and she never had around strangers before. Paying customers, yes, strangers, no. But the child’s happy squealing relaxed her a bit as she reached into her satchel and stood, taking a breath to calm herself. “It is tradition in China to give gifts to a hosting family when one visits.” She explained softly with her melodic voice. “So I have brought a small gift for each of you. I hope you do not mind.” She said as she stepped over to Sarah and pulled out a folded piece of fabric. It was silk, that much was clear, and was bright red in color. She slowly unfolded the fabric revealing a small sheet of silk, about the size of a handkerchief, that was embroidered with a silver phoenix and a gold dragon curled around a soft pink lotus. She handed the fabric to the woman and smiled softly. “It is said that for as long as the dragon and the phoenix guard the lotus, a marriage will not fail.” She said quietly. She stepped back and reached into her satchel again, searching for a very specific item as she approached Will’s father.

She pulled out a black string that held a carved red-jade cricket on it. She presented it and smiled nervously. “Will told me you play cards. Crickets bring good luck and remind man to continue fighting.” She said quietly, placing it by him and backing up. Without the others being there she decided she would have to wait to give them their gifts later. But she reached into her bag again and approached Tea, lifting another cloth from her satchel. “It is tradition to present the mother of the home with something like this.” She said as she unwrapped the item from its cloth holding. She removed a statuette the size of her hand that appeared to be made of gold. Its eyes were bright red, like rubies, and the shape of the creature was strange to say the least. “This is a sacred Qilin.” She said, handing the painting metal statue to Tea. “It is the guardian of the home. It brings with it protection, wisdom and good will.” She explained and she put the wrapping cloth back in her satchel. “I have one for Miss Celeste and Mr. Tarquin when they return.” She said before looking at Will. “I did not account for Miss Essie or the little bird, so I am afraid I did not bring anything for them.” She said as she reached into her bag again. “But I do have something for you.” She muttered as she pulled out another black string. Attached to it was a jade-carved amulet of a crane flying among clouds. She handed it to him and smiled gently. “Cranes are the second most sacred bird to the Chinese. It carries the spirits of the departed to heaven and reminds man to have wisdom and patience in all situations. It is important to the healers.” She explained before standing and waiting.

--

The evening came soon enough and Abby found herself without Will for a few moments, but had returned to playing with Annie while she waited for the young doctor to return. She had previously had a conversation with Tea about different plants and how Abby was also a bit of a gardener, mostly in herbs and medicinal plants, and they had gone back and forth about watering, soil and the like. But she was busy teaching Annie how to say her name correctly when voices awoke her from her teaching lesson. She noticed Celeste and Tarquin had returned, bringing with them Luke and another small one. But she was shy, and as much as Abby wanted to introduce herself, the demanding little one on her lap was consuming her free attention. But she managed to stand, putting Annie on the ground to harass her father again when she went to give her gift to Celeste. But the girl had almost immediately retreated to her father and Abby wisely chose to stay away. She knew internalizing when she saw it and diverted herself to Tarquin.

“Mr. Tarquin?” She called softly, stepping forward and holding a gift in her hand. “I have something for you.” She said quietly, allowing for a few moments in which Sarah could explain why she was giving the gifts. After Sarah was finished, she presented the gift, a statuette, similar in size to the one she had given Tea but this one was of a mighty Asian dragon, flying among clouds and clutching a bright red orb in his right five-clawed hand. “Dragons are the symbols of men and the emperor. Along with the phoenix, a dragon symbolizes a marriage. He is the groom, strong and protective.” She said, handing him the statuette and backing away with a smile. She looked over at Celeste again and her face became resolute. She would wait. Instead, she waved at little Eliza and returned to Will’s side, happy to just be in his company. She leaned her head on his shoulder in a tired way but had a content smile on her face. “I wish mother could meet your family.” She muttered quietly before she could stop herself. But she could not bring herself to regret her choice to talk. But it was getting late, and she would need to get home soon.

But she was loath to leave the family so soon and just allowed herself to rest her head on him, relaxing in his presence. She could see herself opening up to this family, she was just vaguely wondered how they would find her if she did open up. She certainly was full of surprises.

[Galatea]

((Luke can ask Tarr questions- he has a pretty solid “alibi” for his life history now. EDIT; there Tarr history.))
 
Tea wasn’t sure what to make of the girl, at first. She certainly had a way with children, and already Annie was babbling away, happy to have a new playmate- and Will was allowing it, even. She caught the look on his face, and sighed. He was moving on, finally. His laugh was as airy as it had once been, and he cast amused glances at everyone. The girl answered, but followed with a question- and Tea laughed outright. Poker game?
 
“But of course, dear.” She cast an affectionate, teasing grin towards Doc. “He’s just so persuasive when he wants to be. Decided he didn’t want to take the chance of me crawfishin’ and took my heart instead of my soul.” She winked, all in good-natured fun. “Of course, it has nothin’ to do with my mama havin’ red hair. Not at all.” A chuckle, low and throaty. But Annie was happily demanding attention, and the young woman seemed all too happy to oblige. She was good with children, clearly- and when she started to speak, Tea found her eyes on Will, who was looking at Abigail like he’d just been thrown a lifeline. She watched with interest as the girl began to fold the paper, watching it take shape. With the kiss, she smiled- Annie was involved and giggling happily. When instructed to blow on it, the babe chirped with delight as the sparkles formed, and the flower was revealed. Galatea gave a little sound of surprise and delight,
while her son’s green eyes widened slightly.
 
“That was amazing,” he breathed it. She looked embarrassed, or worried, and he shook his head. “That was…” what was that? Besides amazing, that is. Or maybe it was just her that he found amazing. Tea nudged Doc lightly, an amused smirk on her face. He was apparently right- Will was perhaps starting to heal already.
 
“Amazin’. Yes, honey, we know,” Tea teased gently. He rolled his eyes for form, but was laughing. When the girl rose, she smiled. “You didn’t have to honey, but I’m not one to always buck tradition.” She smiled gently. The gifts were lovely, if different- but she appreciated it, and the explanations that went with them. “These are lovely,” she said softly. The girl also did not seem to mind that Will had a child. Not in the least. So she either assumed or had heard that Will’s wife had died.
 
---
 
The evening was pleasant, to say the least. Will had hardly left Abigail’s side, which was surprising to say the least. But he had gone to help his uncle at the clinic, leaving Annie with the girl, who was teaching her her name. The baby was trying, giggling, when the group came home, Celeste making way for her father. But Will dropped back at the dark-haired girl’s side, allowing her to lean her head on his shoulder without complaint- which got a few raised brows. But Will was in fact a Holliday and he did buck the system at times- this was one of them.
 
“She’d be welcome here,” he replied softly against the halo of her dark hair.
 
It had been so long since he’d felt the light weight of a woman’s head on his shoulder, been able to drink in the faint hint of perfume and the scent of her hair. But women were fascinating and terrifying things. He let her linger, until the family said their goodnights and went to bed. He handed Essie his daughter, before chuckling softly. He rose, bringing Abby with him, and looped an arm around her waist instead of her arm, keeping her close. This was also a clear sign that she was with HIM and if anyone had a problem with it, he would gladly correct them.
 
“Come on, darlin’. I’ll walk you home,” he spoke softly. He led her quietly, stopping outside the gate again. He bowed, kissing her wrist lightly, in an affectionate manner, before sighing. “Now I know I want to see you again.” His voice was soft.  “Goodnight, Abigail.” He smiled, watching her enter before turning his steps towards the nearest saloon. He was feeling mighty lucky tonight.
 
He pushed the doors in, eyes scanning the crowd and laughing as he noticed his father, in the back. He tipped his hat with a smirk, before shedding his jacket, loosening his cuffs, and heading towards the billiards table.
 
---
 
She knew he didn’t object to her using his chest as a pillow. He actually encouraged it more often than not. It was amusing- it should have been uncomfortable for him, but he liked having her close and it made him feel normal- and she took care to keep her weight light. He was warm, due to the almost constant fevers that wracked his body, but he was also comforting. He had one arm securing her against him, and she laughed softly, shifted to kiss his jaw lovingly. “I know that, my handsome pistoleer.” She purred playfully. Another term of endearment she used often enough, but didn’t really use publicly. “But the one man a girl can always count on to be in her corner is her daddy… in most cases.” Present company excluded, of course. Her own father had, after all, disowned her.
 
She yawned, then, as he kissed her lightly on the cheek. She rolled over, just to blow out the candle, plunging the room into darkness, and found her way back to his chest. She settled more comfortably now, one leg hooking over his both for comfort and possession. He did make for an excellent pillow and hot water bottle, so she drifted off as he did. Morning would come soon, and she’d be damned if she didn’t enjoy his proximity. She was in the arms of Morpheus before she could register it.
 
---
 
She woke when he stirred, snuggling closer to his warm body, making a sound of protest when he moved. But it was time to get up, and she let him go with a yawn, before slowly rising herself. She took her time, though, especially with her hair. It wasn’t so much the length as it was the thickness when it came to her vibrant locks. But she brushed them out expertly, dressed in record time, and was finished just as her gunslinger was putting on his hat. She flashed him a smile as he exited, only to hear the door down the hall open, and a sudden squeak of surprise and shock, and shook her head.
 
Apparently Celeste was up as well.
 
---
 
She stabbed her hair into place viciously.
 
She would show him! She had deliberately chosen a dress that matched her eyes, drawing them out to perfection, and it was particularly fine, too. And her hair was not down, nor in the loose ponytail she normally pulled it into, but half-up, leaving some strands to flirt around her face. She fussed with her hair again, patting it into place and looked at her own reflection. The neckline was flatteringly modest, and emphasized her feminine little figure to perfection. She looked nearly fully-grown, she thought, and smiled. Yes, she would show him! His evasion and misdirection would be wasted on her. She was so preoccupied with these thoughts that she nearly walked into her father.
 
No, seriously.
 
She nearly rammed right into him, and had he not extended his arms to steady her she would have. Uttering a little squeak of surprise, her hand fluttered to her chest. “Daddy, you scared me half to death!” She responded when he spoke, shaking her head. “I’m not in any hurry,” she protested, but he knew her and when he quirked up a brow, she sighed. Her father was not the type to be nosy, sticking himself into people’s business, but this was his flesh and blood. She mirrored his gesture, though hers was more amused. “It’s trivial,” she said softly, as though assuring him she was alright, before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek. “Really, Daddy, it’s nothing.” Grinning now, she looped her arm through his. Breakfast smelled wonderful, already, and her mother made the father-daughter duo a trio, claiming his other arm with a laugh before they headed downstairs.
 
Will was markedly absent this fine morning, though it was his day to spend in the clinic, so he was probably there already, with his daughter, of course. But her Uncle Walker was at the table, and she rushed to hug him tightly, echoed by her mother instantly. Instantly he relaxed, tension wearing off instantly. He was still family, still welcomed, still home. He chucked under Celeste’s chin with a laugh.
 
“Go easy on the boy, honey.” He shook his head. “God-almighty! You look like your mama at that age, make no mistake.”
 
“I reckon she knows what she’s doin’, Walker.” She kissed his cheek, happy to have her baby brother home. She, too, caught the rebellious look on her daughter’s face, and knew she was employing the icy-cold disinterest that she had learned from watching her redheaded mother.
 
“Aye.” Tarquin chuckled as he kissed Sarah once, deeply. “We willnae be back so late. Just tae the Cheyenne.” He sipped at his coffee. “I be off.”
 
“Wait for me,” Celeste scarfed down a strip of bacon, conveniently taken from her father’s plate- he wouldn’t object, never did when it made less for Tea to bitch at him for not eating.
 
“Celeste!” Galatea tried, but the girl flung her arms around her aunt, kissing her cheek, repeating the gesture with Essie and Walker, pecking her father on the cheek and knocking his hat askew, kissing her mother before darting after her uncle. The girl ate like a bird anyway. Still… “She’s going to regret goin’ without breakfast if they’re ridin’ out that far.” No country folk wanting them to stay for company, or waiting with dinner like the previous day. And the Cheyenne weren’t exactly the friendliest people- not outright hostile but sure to be suspicious of the girl who was with the doctor in her mother’s stead. They had become accustomed to Galatea after some time, tolerated her, but it had not been easy to win anyone over.
 
“That girl is going to be trouble,” Walker laughed. “With a capital ‘T’.”
 
“Of course she is.” Tea laughed. Really, Celeste was well-behaved for the most part- stubborn, though. And hard-headed. Temperamental. Moody.
 
Well, she pitied poor Luke. She shook her head and daintily began to tear into her own breakfast.
 
---
 
He had been anticipating she would remain home today, so when she attached herself to his arm he was surprised- and with every step he tried to dissuade her. It was boring. He was just going out to the Cheyenne. Luke would be there, too. But she stayed in step, and he sighed when they arrived. Luke was there, looking miserable. He had clearly spent a restless night, as Celeste had. He smiled as they approached, somewhat sheepishly. But her blue gaze stayed on her uncle, or a passerby, or, as they approached, even the big draft horse nearest her as she patted his neck. Anywhere that didn’t feature the good-looking young man. But she could feel his eyes on her, and haughtily sent him that regal, hooded look as she finally looked towards him.
 
She almost softened- almost, but he was deceiving her, and so she forced herself to give him a haughty response that would not have been out of place had she been raised in Georgia as her father had been. “Mister Grant.” She said it flatly, no enthusiasm in her tone.
 
Tarquin’s greeting was far better. “Morning, me lad!” He smiled, as if telling the boy not to give up on Celeste, before heading into the clinic. “I’ll just be a tick.”
 
She almost followed him. Almost. But the horse nearest her was pleased with her petting and had put his nose to her hand, and she was timidly stroking his muzzle. She didn’t want to displease the animal- it wasn’t his fault. From the blaze down his face she knew this one to be Nic, and she cooed to him softly for a moment, watching his ears flick forward, listening. She only stopped cooing to the massive gelding when she heard Luke mention her name, blue eyes snapping to his face with indifference. Cold. It was as if she were made of marble. But his voice was gentle, soft… and then he mentioned the night before, and the word ‘interrupted’. Cautiously, hope started to flare in her eyes. And that made her feel even worse, because he had been going to tell her, apparently…
 
With the hope came a softening of her stance, no longer regal or a cast statue. But he wouldn’t see that, because his eyes were on hers- that dark, nearly black gaze she loved- and her eyes were wary, cautious in their hope. He spoke of his mother, then- his gaze fleeing hers, finding the bow at her collar fascinating, and he was tense and his breathing was shaky. She almost reached for him, to comfort and soothe, but she was still upset and didn’t know what he was getting at. It wasn’t until he mentioned what his mother was that she responded- but it was not what he would have expected. She looked about furtively- no one else was around, but she wanted to be sure- she wanted him safe. Satisfied, she stepped closer, just in time for him to admit he didn’t know what happened to his birth mother- and she nearly reached for him, then.
 
Now she felt ashamed for doubting him.
 
At that moment, his eyes finally met hers again. And she shook her head, finally closing the gap between them. She didn’t touch him, not yet- she didn’t want him to recoil from her. “You didn’t lie,” she said it softly. “You just didn’t tell me everything.” And that had hurt, clearly. “It hurts that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me everything… but I can’t blame you.” She added. Her position in society was enough to scare most people off- but, then, he had seen her family dynamic, and how loved Essie was, despite her skin color. “I don’t blame you.” A sigh. She didn’t like fighting, not with him or anyone. At that moment, Tarquin came back.
 
“Well… we’re heading out tae tha Cheynne today.” He said it as he swung up into the wagon. Celeste hesitated, before looking at Luke.
 
“Can…?”
 
“Luke, help that wee lassie up, will ye?” He waited for compliance before they headed off in the right direction. This time Celeste was more relaxed, not distanced from Luke, but she rested her head on Tarquin’s shoulder and dozed, having not spent a very comfortable night. He waited until he was sure she was asleep to speak with the boy, softly. “Ye are lucky.” He slanted the boy a look. “This one ‘ere doesnae care iff’n ye carry mixed blood, she just wants tae be with ye.” Before the boy could say any more, he shook his head slightly. “I ken from tha go. So did Tea.” He kept his voice soft. “She doesnae care. Tea was raised by Essie, ye ken. That woman loves her as if she were her biological mother, an’ Tea loves her the same.”
 
“Anyway….” He sighed. “Ye are to polite to ask, so..."

“I was born in Dublin, Ireland, to a family of merchants.” He started, though his mind told a very different tale. ‘I was born on a farm in Mississippi. To a family of cats who weren’t really cats.’ “The only son. Well-loved and well-bred.” ‘The runt of the litter, the throwaway son, the castoff.’
 
“I ran away tae sea when I was sixteen. Wanted adventure, excitement!” ‘I was taken from them by an older gentleman who wanted a companion. I was the gentlest kitten, and he liked me. He picked me up and took me with him. My story is his story, and he lives through me, now.’
 
“Found my way to Boston- I had tha money, so enrolled in classes to become a doctor.” ‘I stayed by his side for years. His wife had died, his daughter married and moved away. I was all he had left. He named me Tarquin, for I was a little prince sure to become a king. He loved me.’
 
“I moved south when I was ready tae start a practice.” ‘My master died when I was ten. I sat by his side and tried to fix him, heal him- but he was old. He had lived a long, long time. I mourned for him. The house smelled of death.’
 
“Did well there.” ‘His daughter took me away to Georgia. She died from complications caused by her husband beating her two years later, and her husband had no want for a cat. He beat me, humiliated me. Because I dared to ask for food in my bowl, when he had not fed me in a week. He took his belt to me, whipped me mercilessly. But he did not remember the open door. I escaped.’
 
“Enjoyed Southern hospitality and the refined qualities they have.” ‘I managed to heal myself, but I scarred horribly. Those scars will never heal.
 
“And then I met Tea.” ‘And then I found Tea. She slid down from her horse to see me, and she was kind. Sympathetic. She offered me her hand, and I could sniff it, before she pet me. She held me, then- she let me cuddle into her, and at last I found home in her.’
 
“She was the sweetest thing, even back then. Had an eye for kindness.” ‘She nursed me back to health, letting me sleep beside her at night. She fed me and brushed me and said if she ever met the man who had whipped me she would whip him. God, I loved her. My mistress…’
 
“Her young man got sick, so he lit out towards the West. He had to.” ‘Doc Holliday was born the day John Henry left. It broke her, shattered her. And my world shattered along with her.’
 
“She was betrothed to a monster of a man. I didn’t like him, and neither did she.” ‘She always said you could judge a man by how he treated animals. Holliday always stroked me gently, never harmed me, and allowed me the pleasure of his lap. This man told her to drown me, for he would not allow her to keep a pet. He had been the one to scar me, after all.’
 
“She left him standing at the altar.” ‘I was waiting for her. She tore off into the distance with me by her side.’
 
“She headed West, and I followed her. She needed looking after.” ‘Especially after that night. She needed me, and I lay beside her and let her cry into my fur, nuzzling and licking her as if she were my mate to try and comfort. I tried purring to calm her, but it didn’t help. She was only seventeen, and she’d been violated and shamed.’
 
“She got bored with being entertainment and decided to open her own place.” ‘She needed to move again. Never could stand being in one place for too long.’
 
“Asked me to go with her.” ‘Taught me how to shift that last night in the Gold Nugget. She shifted herself, and taught me how. Hurt like nothing else, that first time. I fell into her arms, shivering, and she held me throughout the night, stroking, murmuring.’
 
“When she opened the Silver Star, I was with her. I moonlighted as a pool hustler in those days.” ‘She began to teach me human ways, customs. But she still distanced herself from me. She called me handsome, let me sleep beside her, but she never accepted me into her bed, or heart, that way. I knew she was for Doc, at that time, and I concentrated on becoming human.’
 
“She left the Star and headed to Texas with her favorite girls. I went along too, just as I always did. She met Doc there. He just liked her for some reason, and took her along with him.” ‘He’d carried a torch for her, even after all the time had passed. I saw the way he let her cuddle with him that first night, and the way he kept her in his lap the next night. He took her with him to his room, that night- and there was no degrading exit that night, she stayed in his bed. He asked her to stay with him, both because she was a distraction and because he had been fond of her.”
 
“He took her with him, and of course there was no room for me.” ‘She needed him, and he needed her. Who else would have them? They were all passion and fire- and love.’
 
“I stayed on for a few years.” ‘With Lottie. But it wasn’t the same, and I stopped shifting, staying a cat until I forgot how to shift. Lottie got married, and I felt I was in the way. I left.’
 
“When I headed out again, I happened to run into Tea and Doc.” ‘I was a cat, again. Doc was in the middle of a stare down with someone over Tea, and I was so overjoyed to see him I hopped up in his lap, purring and yowling. He wasn’t happy- he put me right down.’
 
“And then I met Sarah.” ‘And then I saw Sarah.”
 
“She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.” ‘She was prettier than I remembered her being. I made straight for her. She was happy and scooped me up, right away, letting me cuddle.’
 
“Then Tea had Will.” ‘Then I remembered how to shift. I stayed with them, despite the wary looks and anger on Sarah’s part. I delivered Will myself- I was the first one to hold him outside his mother, and the first one to fawn over him.’
 
“I suppose the rest is history, though. I stayed with them, eventually courting and wooing Sarah Holliday- and now, we’re getting married.” He chuckled. “There! That is the longest story of my life I’ve ever given!” He laughed. It had made the ride pass pleasantly, at any rate.

 
---
 
Will had spiffed up for the first time in a long time. Not that he looked scruffy before, mind- but he took more pride in his appearance. He’d fetched Annie early this morning, fallen into bed, and slept like the dead. He woke late, and bolted for the clinic after getting dressed. Tarquin had left, and he found he was famished. “Well, what do you say, Miss Annie? What do YOU want for breakfast, punkin?”
 
“Pamcake!” She squealed.
 
“Punkin, I don’t think anyone other than Miss Essie makes pancakes out here.”
 
“Wan’ pamcake!’ She looked resolutely at her father.
 
“You have your grandmother’s attitude,” he sighed.
 
“Ga?” She asked.
 
“Yes, punkin.” He chuckled. His daughter couldn’t say ‘Galatea’ to save her life. “How about eggs?”
 
“Wan’ pamcake.” She sniffed.
 
“Eggs and toast?” He offered, but his daughter gave him a resolute stare. “No?” His smile turned wicked. “How about we go see Essie?” She clapped her hand in delight. “Maybe she’ll make you some pancakes.”
 
“Pamcake!”
 
“That’s right, punkin.” He chuckled as he swung his daughter onto his shoulders, keeping her safe, but giving her a new vantage point. Because he was tall, she could see over most people’s heads, and she giggled. Her daddy was tall! He headed up the path, his laughing daughter on his shoulders, and headed in just in time to see his mother swat lightly at his father’s arm- but she was laughing. Clearly, he’d said something to set her off.
 
“Ga!” Annie squealed, and she reached for her granddaughter, kissing both cheeks.
 
“That’s it! I have another one to spoil, now!” Annie giggled, because the word ‘spoil’ often meant she was getting something. This was no exception, as Galatea had a pancake waiting for the baby. She squealed happily and dug right in. “I figured ya would swing by. When Celeste was her age it was eggs. All eggs.” She laughed.
 
“I remember.” He laughed.
 
“You were the oddest. Beets. That was all you wanted. Beets.” She wrinkled her nose. “You sure gussied up today,” she added, looking critically at her son.
 
“Uh-huh,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s been almost a year since Allie died. It’s time to stop mourning.” He shrugged. His suit may have been black but the accessories were sharp and brought out his looks.
 
“That’s good.” She nodded.
 
“I’ve got to get to the clinic,” he said softly. “Bring her by when you get tired of her fussing.”
 
---
 
He headed for the clinic, only to find that there was already someone there, waiting patiently. His lips turned up into a smile as he approached, and he tipped his hat charmingly. “Morning, Abby.” He gave he the customary kiss to the wrist as he opened the door. “Ladies first,” he chuckled before propping open the door. Today they had time to study her journal, and he looked at it curiously, quirking a brow.
 
This would be a good day. He could feel it.

[Doc_Holliday]

Two sharp pairs of blue eyes watched Will and his new young friend, picking up on the subtle changes that were already apparent in the young man. The heavy burden that had been weighing him down lately seemed to have lifted, or at the very least, lightened.

She was pleasant enough. Quiet but intelligent and possessing a personal determination within her that would surely shine through eventually, she held herself with poise among their scrutinizing gazes. The young girl went so far as to present several members of the family with a gift, beginning with Sarah. Surprised and unsure of how to accept the beautiful gift, she simply held the delicate fabric in her hands as Abby explained it. It’s deeper meaning soon became evident and she turned her radiant gaze towards her husband-to-be. She smiled, admiring the beautiful cloth she still held.

“I can't thank you enough,” she said warmly, wanting to tell the girl that this was really unnecessary and that she should keep her fine things, but this would clearly be an insult. “It’s so beautiful,” she gushed once more, shifting her attention back and forth between it and the rest of the gifts she was giving to the family. She turned next to the hardened gambler whose presence was always felt even if he distanced himself a bit. He was leaning against the wall towards the back of the gathering, but stood up straighter when the dark-haired young girl approached him.

The intricate little cricket slipped easily from one nimble set of fingers to another, and he looked at the carving as she spoke of its purpose. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded in understanding. The little charm supposedly provided two things he was in need of, and his twisted sense of humor latched onto this fact quickly.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he said in his charming way. He placed the cricket in his vest pocket, patting it and winking at her to verify that he would put it to good use. As it was only the afternoon, he stuck around, taking in their company until he would casually make his way out and hit the tables to drink and play long into the night to ease his suffering. Before this could happen, he, along with most of the others in the family, caught a gesture that would not have been out of place if it were any other person. Abby was resting her head on Will’s shoulder and he had not pulled away from her. He met Galatea’s eyes with a cocky, knowing quirk of his brow, clearly saying ‘What did I tell you?’

It was good to see Will being himself again. For quite some time now he had been the doom and gloom of the family, his broken spirit affecting Tea more than she would probably care to admit. It was far too early to know anything for certain, but so far the effect Abby was having on Will was only positive.

-

It took all he had to keep from wincing when she finally did speak. It was the moment he feared ever since he had realized how much he cared for her. Already though, everything about her had softened. She didn't look at him with that haughty indifference that made him want to disappear on the spot. His relief was temporary, because her words stung him, just as his actions had stung her. He lowered his gaze and nodded to himself, knowing that at the very least he deserved some criticism for his choice to keep it from her this long. She seemed accepting, of his mixed blood at least, but was still less affectionate and open with him than before. He could kick himself, really. It wasn't being Cheyenne that would push her away from him; it was not disclosing that fact to her that was evidently going to be the thing to do it. How could he have known that she would have been alright with it from the start? Hindsight was 20/20, but his obvious wrong decision in the matter would continue to eat at him.

She said she didn't blame him, but her sigh and body cues gave him a mixed message. He had one final all important point to make before he could let the subject drop though, which he doubted was possible anyway. He was confident that she knew this already, but it was too essential for him to not emphasize again, now. His paranoia would not allow him to leave it unaddressed.

"Please," his voice was soft, pleading, "you can't tell anyone." If word got around, it could be a disaster for him and his family. Surely she understood this. Her uncle returned then, but he didn't step away from her. She had slowly closed the gap between them, and the sign was too important for him to undo now. Up until now, Luke hadn't known where Tarquin was planning on going today. He had assumed it would be follow up visits or seeing patients that they hadn't seen the previous day. A higher power was toying with him today though, and he cursed his luck for it. He hesitated, opening his mouth as if to object once Tarquin spoke, but closed it again without uttering a sound.

"Yes, Sir," he said, his dull tone of voice unable to hide his worry. This was what the doctor had so generously offered to pay him to do, and he wasn’t about to go back on his word. When Celeste turned to him with a questioning look, he scrambled to help her up into the wagon, eager to get back onto her good side. The ride this time was vastly different than it had been last night. She didn't distance herself from Luke, and she eventually drifted off into a light sleep on her uncle's shoulder as they went down a relatively smooth path. He caught the doctor sneaking looks at his niece, and when he was certain she was asleep, he took the opportunity to speak up.

He shot his gaze over to Tarquin when he mentioned Celeste not minding that he was mixed blood. The more important message that she wanted to be with him was temporarily lost in his panic. When had he found out? Did he hear him tell Celeste? Was he going out to the Cheyenne today to punish him? No, he knew from the beginning, apparently. He and Celeste's mother had known.

"How did you know? Is it obvious?" Forgetting himself, he caught his demanding tone and dropped his gaze in sudden shame, gritting his teeth and mentally berating himself for his outburst. It was just that he was confused; he had never been suspected before. He knew he hadn't, because no one else would hesitate to call him out on it. And here, after knowing him a few short weeks Tarquin and Galatea had simply known and not cared? He should be grateful, he supposed. He had believed them to be an open, kind family, but seeing a demonstration of this behavior when it concerned him still stunned him. People like the Hollidays and their equals weren't supposed to be selfless and generous. He expected that from many, but not all, of his fellow farming neighbors, but never from the upper class elite that lived within the larger cities. And even his "equals" would look down on him if they knew.

"Well..." he murmured, lacking anything else say on the matter. This secret being out in the open was still an uncomfortable and new experience. "Thank you for not saying anything." The doctor switched the subject then, instead giving Luke a detailed history of where he had come from and how he had ended up where he was, now, with the Holliday clan. He nodded and responded in all of the appropriate places, genuinely interested in the man's history even though he felt that he had somehow put up a barrier between himself and everyone else after being revealed in being not entirely honest with the family.

Luke laughed softly when Tarquin did, completing his story grandly. Luke liked listening to people; he did it more often than speaking himself. He liked hearing people's back stories, and there was one thing that the elderly people of the country liked to do was provide personal histories for everyone willing and unwilling to listen. Not only did it pass the time, but he had always been curious about the Irishman who had somehow clawed his way up the social ladder to become a doctor.

"Your family’s been through a lot," he responded gently, having a new appreciation for the group, especially Celeste's mother. And she was still so kind-hearted and gentle. She seemed to have many reasons to be bitter. Luke knew many people like that. Some let the bitterness and anger take over, some stayed altruistic and kind in nature. His mother always said that it was these people that realized that the sometimes few good things they did have in their lives, such as loved ones, were enough to outweigh all the negatives. Galatea would be one of these people.

It really had passed the time, because soon enough he recognized the vaguely familiar outskirts of the Cheyenne Indian territory. The terrain was much less smooth now, and Celeste had jerked awake. He didn't pull the wagon up, but slowed down slightly, giving a sideways look over to the doctor. "Now that I know you fully understand why," he said bluntly, as there was no point in dancing around it, "I don't come here." There were several reasons, and they were complex and intertwined and he didn't go into much detail right away. Trying a new policy of honesty though, he gave an impatient sigh. "I don't know where my real mother is," he said again bluntly without any embellishment, looking back and forth between Celeste and the doctor. It was probably more accurate to say he didn't know who his real mother was. If she was alive, this is where she would probably be.

But who wanted to confront someone that they believed hated them enough to leave and never look back? He couldn't bring himself to hate the woman. She had, after all, brought him into this world, and he vividly heard her happy laugh and smiling face even if he couldn't picture what she exactly looked like anymore. The other reason he didn't come near the reservation was because that was just asking for trouble. “I’m not exactly welcomed by everyone here.”

Just as they came over a small hill, the campsite came into view. It was a busy place, but peaceful. Upon seeing the wagon, a clear giveaway of a white man, the constant coming and going slowed down, nearly all sets of eyes turning to take in the approaching visitors. Younger children ran to their mothers while the older ones, curious, craned their necks to get a better look. He had been here before, this white man, this healer. He was still white, but as far as white people went, on the border of being acceptable. Luke brought the horses to a stop, and he let Tarquin jump down before he got down and helped Celeste. She seemed slightly more uncomfortable, perhaps the image of "real Indians" being an understandable shock. She was completely out of her element, but she had nothing to worry about. They were not savages, and especially with Luke present as a physical tie between the two cultures, tension was low.

"You’re fine," he murmured with a gentle smile as he watched her take in every single person that dared to venture near them. The white visitors were the most excitement these people had seen in quite some time. Some of them pressed in closer, surrounding them in a circle of somewhat accepting faces. Others hung back or retreated deeper within the camp to where they could still see, but considering themselves to be at a safer distance. There were whispers and gestures, lowered voices because they assumed Luke still understood their language, even if he refused to speak it. He stayed close to Celeste, his hand pressed gently against the small of her back to remind her that he was right there with her.

For a few moments there was simply silence. The Cheyenne took in Tarquin and his company while they likewise did the same. Mistrust and hesitancy still hung among them, but their curiosity was getting the better of them. Still sure that Celeste was angry with him, he couldn’t use her as a distraction and excuse not to look at the Cheyenne in fear that his mother was among them. He busied himself with walking around to the back of the wagon, unloading the supplies Tarquin needed and the things that he had brought to leave with them. He did not fit in among these people either, an outcast no matter where he turned. Here, however, he couldn't hide.

An older man stepped forward then, his buckskin clothing and feathered long hair a stark contrast to the more white looking Indian traders seen in town. He would be familiar to Tarquin, this man being the primary mediator between his people and the whites. He eyed Luke carefully, refusing to look away from the young man until he at least brought his gaze up from the dirt and looked at him. He would make it a point to speak to the boy later if he would give them the chance, but he was clearly not ready now.

“Welcome,” he finally spoke in a deep but soft voice. He was a member of a transitional generation of Cheyenne Indians; he had been a boy young enough to have learned English when the white men taught it to them so that he could now interpret for the older chiefs and tribal council members who had not been able to, but was now old enough to know not to get involved with hostile, militaristic groups such as the Dog Soldiers that many young Cheyenne men were turning to in desperation and anger.

(I’m so, so sorry. I promise next one will be better. Random side character is only there because otherwise they’re all standing around staring at each other…communication had to be established somehow lol. Soooo yeah. Sorry for the wait and…have fun!)