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Longing - Part 3

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By the time you made it back to the ranch, you had cried yourself to sleep. Tears stained Chavez’s black shirt, and his coat was wrapped around your shoulders. Dick gently pulled you from your safe space in Chavez’s arms while he dismounted. Silently, Chavez took you from Dick and carried you to your room. Your eyes opened as your tense body fell against the softness of the mattress, and the agony from the morning hit you again. Frantically your eyes searched the room for comfort and you choked back a sob. “Chavez..Please. Please tell me he isn’t gone. Please.” It felt as if Murphy himself was ripping Chavez’s heart out of his chest while watching the tears fall freely from your eyes, your body shaking from the sobs and heartache. He pulled you to him, holding you so tight that he may crush you. The two of you sat that way, clinging to each other like burrs on a saddle. When all your tears had been cried, you listened. Silence. Something you had always craved, but was now so unwelcome.

You stood surrounded by your boys, Alex, and Susan as your father was laid to rest. “For as much as it hath pleased Almighty God, in his wise providence, to take out of this world the soul of our deceased brother, we therefore commit his body to the ground. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.” Susan led you to the wagon while Alex led the boys to JP Wilson. “You can stay with us for as long as you need to Y/n. I know how hard it will be to try to go home now.” You gave her a soft smile as Alex joined you, driving you towards home.

“Deputized?! Alex no! First of all I was his DAUGHTER! I should be there right along with them. Am I not allowed justice? And second, you’re going to let hot-headed Bonney go off with AUTHORITY?” “Y/n. You are a lady.” Alex’s voice grew stern as he send an almost disapproving look to you. “I know that you are more than capable of taking care of this and yourself, but this is not something you need to do. As for Billy, he has five other level headed young men to keep his straight. They’ll serve their eleven warrants, and it will all be over.”

For days you were a nervous wreck. There had been no word from or about the boys, and worry began gnawing at your thoughts. Your nail beds had become red and raw from anxiously picking at them. Mindlessly, you floated towards the barn searching for a distraction. Before you could reach it, Alex came riding up the road pulling the wagon to a stop next to you. “Any news, Alex?” Your voice was soft and quiet, but full of hope and worry awaiting any news of your boys. Alex sighed as the paper passed into your hands. “You may have been right about Billy.” He snapped the reins and headed to the house, leaving the dust swirling around you. “"Nine men lay dead or at death's door yesterday noon following a gunfight between Lincoln resident Henry Hill, forty-five, and what patrons have called a ‘kid’. A local miner has identified 'the Kid’ as one Henry McCarthy, also known as William H. Bonney, nineteen or twenty. In a flaming shootout 'the Kid', Billy, killed Mr. Hill then took on an onslaught of Hill's partisans bringing the damage to six verified slayings. Bonney is believed to be the captain of a deputized gang.” Murphy is going to kill them all.

chavez pov

There had to be a way out of the mess Billy had created for them, and Chavez only knew one way to find the answer. Snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he searched the ground, gathering what he needed. Darkness soon surrounded the Regulators, with only a soft light from the fire to illuminate the cup being passed around the circle. “We've come to a place where we are lost, no? When an Indian is lost, he must reach into the spirit world to find the way. On the Spirit Road, he'll be shown a sign. This is the way to the Spirit Road. We're lost right now. But I'll find us the way.” Steve rolled his eyes as the cup made its way to him, “Oh Christ, Chavez! That's all we need is some more of your red-ass Navajo mambojahambo. We're running out of time here, Chavez.” “Is that any good? Chavez, what is that?” Charley looked worried looking at the cup being passed around. A simple reply was given, “Peyote.”

The sun was rising over the mountains, the light slowly filtering through the dust and smoke surrounding Chavez on the ledge he was standing atop. Slowly he turned facing North. East. South. The land was red and the rivers ran with blood in every direction. There must be a way. Please Great Spirits, show me the way. Turning to the west, the blood vanished. A woman turned to greet him, her arms outstretched and her hair flowing in the soft breeze. He reached towards her, only to watch her be pulled onto a golden brown mare and riding off towards Old Mexico. West.

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