A soft evening breeze wafted through the barn as Celeste hunched over what little belongings she had, bundling them carefully to fit on Levi's back. The horse was watching her, occasionally pawing at the ground as if to hurry her along. Levy was friendly only with her and it was an awful annoyance to those attempting to get any work done around the house. She sighed at him, trying without words to convey that she was going as fast as she could but that her thoughts were filled with terror for what lay ahead in the coming days.
She had wanted to leave but was sure that it would be with her husband and, maybe, hope that there was something better waiting for them closer to the world she knew. "Even a boom-town was better than this place" she thought, and tried to compose herself when her thoughts seemed to focus more on the one man she knew would be able to soothe this pain.
Long Lance. She couldn't help it. He was the only one who could comfort her in times like these and the only one who saw her turmoil, even when she would try to hide it.
Long Lance sat just outside of the village, the sun setting in front of him and, in his fashion, would hum a small tune to himself as he meditated. He was once a student of his people's spiritual path but strayed to indulge the love he had for both Jim and Celeste, two people he and many others referred to as their strange little family. But Long Lance was far from caring about titles, blood or appearances. He mused that Celeste was his greatest treasure, a little child who gave him the one thing he thought he could never have because of his attraction to Jim.
He had wanted to be a father more than anything else.
Celeste felt herself stand behind him, watching him observe the coming night. the vision was vivid. She sighed. She could see him as clear as if she could reach out and touch him but...she couldn't. She wanted so badly to say something to him, to tell him that she was there, that she wanted to come home! But before the words were formed he stopped humming.
"I knew you would come." He said, barely above a whisper. "I knew, in my heart."
Celeste continued to stand silently behind him and continued to listen.
"I'm glad." he smiled and lifted his head to feel the wind. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of you."
"Atè..." she whispered. Long Lance lowered his head and she could tell he was distraught. "I failed..."
"Celeste?" She heard a voice. Long Lance was still sitting with his back turned, but the voice belonged to someone else, somewhere else... Somewhere near.
"No..." She murmured.
Long Lance turned his head but the vision of him blew away as if made of dust before her eyes. She closed hers and shook her head to regain sight of what was happening around her. Henry was looking down at her puzzled before she finally realized where she was.
Where she had always been.
"Are you alright?" He asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"What?" Celeste stammered. She was standing in the barn again. Levy huffed through his nose at Henry, which brought her back into her body completely. She looked into Henry's face: he had worry in his eyes.
"You must be very upset." He observed. Celeste sighed and moved away from him, continuing her task of packing away her things. "I spoke to my mother..."
"And?" She huffed.
"She had a difficult time explaining why she and Emily are so horrible to you." Celeste held her hand up before he could say anything else.
"It's all about appearances with 'em...with all of these damn people." She grit her teeth. "Anything different or out of the ordinary is offensive, which I think bosh… this town fought for the Union."
"Well. Progress a little at a time, I suppose."
"Henry." Celeste turned her head and glared at him. "Ya'll went out west to visit your uncle and the Lakota and Cheyenne treated you and yours with kindness and open arms. Did ya'll explain that at all to your mother and sister?"
"We did. My father, especially. And, trust me," Henry moved a hand through his hair nervously, "he would not have allowed you such treatment had he been alive. And I would have said something, too."
Celeste furrowed her brow. In the hours of his return, Henry had gotten a shave and a haircut, revealing a much younger and attractive face. He was a far better kept young man than Nathaniel but his eyes betrayed his slightly more conservative nature. He, too, had an interest in adventure and travel. He was a lot like Uncle Andrew in that respect: Wants to experience life but not if it interfered with his responsibilities.
"Nathaniel..." she whispered, "He only sent me one letter the entire time he was gone."
Henry's face changed suddenly to outrage. "That...that was the greatest disrespect I could think of."
Celeste stood up a little straighter.
"I can't believe she kept that from you and Emily. You, especially." He wrung his hands. "Your whole life here was built around Nathaniel and whatever he was doing at the moment. To keep from you that he had been taken prisoner...I can't even begin to describe how angry that made me."
He looked into Celeste's face. She seemed to be waiting for him to continue but wasn't sure if she wanted him to. After a moment she took a breath to say something, anything to break the silence, but Henry got there first.
"And seeing you here, knowing that you were waiting for Nathaniel," he took a step closer to her, "I only regret that I didn't ask you first."
Celeste's jaw dropped. "What? Th' hell you on about?"
"Marriage."
"What? Why?"
"It would have been nice, I think, to know someone would be here waiting for me." He said.
"Henry..."
"We could still do it, you know? Get married, I mean."
"No." She replied flatly. Henry's eyes widened as if he hadn't contemplated what he would do if she had rejected him.
"But, I could make you happy and we wouldn't have to stay here...!" He protested.
"I ain't doin' it, Henry." She crossed her arms. "First, I had my heart torn out by those who kept me from the man I actually wanted, then I'm practically forced into marryin' your brother for the sake o' show and everyone else's comfort and then..."
She grimaced.
"I ain't about to be passed around." She sighed. "I ain't adding you to no lists of men disappointed in not being able to be with me as he sees fit."
"Why?" Henry pleaded. Celeste went blank. She knew exactly why she wanted to reject him but so much had hit her at once. She immediately started taking inventory. Was it because she could no longer stand Anne and Emily? Was it because of the way the community treated her? Was it the prospect of being coerced into the brothel? There were many reasons Celeste didn't want to stay.
Not to mention that Nathaniel wasn't coming back. What was the point in staying?
"I don't believe you could handle being away from your mother and sister." She lied. He probably could, but maybe having him consider the thoughts and feelings of others would inspire him to rethink his desire. "Besides, you've been away at war for over a year. Is this really about marriage or...?"
To her surprise, Henry thought of this instead of saying anything.
"I'd be lying if I said that bedding you was not something I thought of often. I was jealous, I admit." he eventually said, "But you were my brother's wife and..."
He sighed heavily. Henry managed to talk himself out of it.
"You're right." He continued. "I'd just be taking advantage of his absence, wouldn't I?"
Celeste sighed in relief. She knew matter-of-factly other men, even Nathaniel, wouldn't have been so courteous. But still, her heart began to ache at Henry's distraught face. Celeste reached a hand to him, but stopped short, realizing what touching him could do.
She straightened her posture. "You are a good man, Henry. I'm glad to see that war hasn't soiled ya'. I think even Long Lance would call ya' a warrior."
Henry looked up at her and the two finally exchanged smiles before he rose and left to give her room to finish her task.
The sun barely had a moment to breach the horizon before Celeste mounted Levy. She turned her head, taking one last look at the shadow of the life she thought she was living. To leave would be liberation, but with an uncertain future in front of her, she wondered how she was going to dodge the now many people following in her same course west.
Levy, however, was a spirit unto himself and huffed his impatience, refusing to look back at the place she knew he hated. Celeste took this as a sign. Levy was her mirror in many ways and she knew what he was saying when he pawed the ground to move forward.
Celeste gave Levy a huge approving smile. It was time to find a path and to hell with anything that tried to stop them.