The bunkhouse already felt empty.

Jimmy stood just inside the entrance for a long moment, his tall and muscular form silhouetted against red-gold rays of sunlight.  Then he carefully closed the door behind him, sealing out the days brilliance and cocooning himself in the coolness of the chamber.

The clothing scattered about bore mute testament to the recent frenzied actions of the bunkhouse inhabitants, yet the disarray did nothing to impede the feeling of emptiness.  It was as though the occupants of the room had rallied for a last hurrah before everything changed.  Problem was, everything had already changed.  And there was no going back, no matter how much he wanted to.

Jimmy strode purposefully to his cot, tossing his saddlebag down before turning to the small shelf that housed his personal belongings.  Shaving razor and strop, gun oil, scissors, bullets – all were shoved into the bag without regard to their function.  He went to his clothes next.   Quickly his extra shirts and trousers joined the other essentials.  His life was packed into the small saddlebag in less time than it took to sing a rousing chorus of Oh Susanna – even if Cody was singing it.

It was better this way, he told himself.  He’d only have to answer a wagonload of questions if he waited till the riders were around.  And there was no point in that, ‘cause he’d already made up his mind.  He and Rosemary would be leaving at the end of the day.  And nothing was changing that… not Buck’s pleas for them to remain a family, not all of Teaspoon’s fancy words.  He had to leave.  He didn’t have a choice.

Flinging the saddlebag over his shoulder, Jimmy let his eyes flicker across the chamber for the final time. He was leaving the only home and family he’d ever truly known, and much as he steeled himself to be strong… it still set off an ache deep in his heart.

He was turning for the door to head outside – to the relentless sunshine, to the patient Rosemary, to his new life – when he saw it.  The dress.  The saddlebag fell nervelessly from his grasp.

He made his way on suddenly weakened legs to the casual clutter of Lou’s bunk.  Trembling fingers he didn’t recognize as his own plucked the garment from the discarded pile.  The calico cloth was soft under his work-roughened fingers; the blue of the design seemed to blaze from the fabric with the strength of the most dazzling springtime sky.  Without conscious thought, he brought the material to his cheek.  Her scent – deep and earthy and decidedly feminine – overwhelmed his senses even as his mind was besieged with memories.  Memories of Willow Springs. 

Lou had been heartbroken when Kid had begun a relationship with another woman.  Then Teaspoon had assigned her a run to Willow Springs, with Jimmy as her escort.  They’d had to stay overnight, and he saw it as an opportunity for her to let her hidden femininity shine.

He’d only wanted to see a smile on her face again.  He’d only wanted to make her happy.  But when she’d transformed herself from “Lou” to “Louise”… well, his heart had just about swelled from his chest.  The flowers on the dress seemed to flutter in time with the beat of his heart whenever she moved.  The ruffle of lace on the sleeves was sparkling white, but it could never compare to the dazzling shine of pride he felt having Lou on his arm. 

And when they’d danced in the street…  Jimmy shook his head, afraid of the emotions stirred by memory and afraid of being spooked of them.   It was the past, he told himself, and the past was dead and buried.  But still he looked at the dress clutched in his desperate grip and remembered the way her small hand had felt buried within his larger one.  The way she had giggled at the incongruity of dancing in the middle of a nearly empty, very dusty street.  The feel of her tiny waist under the protective weight of his hand.  The way her eyes had shone.

Her eyes.  It always came back to her eyes.  When she was angry, the blaze darting from her eyes felt like it could scorch the skin from his bones. When she was sad, he wanted to dive into the liquid pools that her eyes became and let the pain cover his body, till only joy remained for her.   When she was hurt, crystal shards from her eyes speared his own and sent shivers down his spine.  And when she was happy… when she was happy, the overwhelming radiance of her gaze bathed him in warmth and comfort and serenity. 

Unbidden, Jimmy moved to the mirror set next to the door.  Its warped and twisted surface distorted images on the best of days, but now all he could see reflected there was Lou.  Her flawless likeness regarded him silently, drawing a breathless gasp from his lips.  Her brown eyes glowed with compassion, and he felt as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders just by her gaze.  Her lips curved in a delicate smile, setting him afloat on an ocean of ice that tamped down every blaze of anger or resentment within him.   Her hair lifted and soared on the autumn breeze, and suddenly he had to touch it.  He had to touch HER.  He needed to touch her, more than he had ever needed anything in his life.  Shaking fingers reached out… only to be met by the cool unwavering surface of the mirror.  Lou’s image faded, drifted, then snuffed out like a candle bitten by an angry wind. 

“James?  What’s taking you so long?”

Jimmy blinked at his sudden reflection, the husky voice of Rosemary breaking the spell of the tiny chamber.  She had waited outside with no objections, knowing that severing the ties to the life he’d made with the Express was something he had to do alone. He could picture her sitting on the buckboard, the reins held loosely in her hand, while he wallowed in memories of the past and dreams of a future that could never be.  What was he doing?  Why was he doing this to himself? His eyes looked wounded and bruised; his hand still clutched the calico dress in a grip so powerful his 
knuckles were turning white.  Dropping the garment back onto the jumble of Lou’s bunk, Jimmy studied the floorboards, keeping his attention focused clearly and cleanly on the present.  When he brought his attention back to the looking glass, the weakness he saw in his reflected gaze was gone.  Emotions best known only to himself were hidden away, where they should be.  The man looking back at him was James Hickok.  “Jimmy” was gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back.  He’d leave Jimmy behind when he left the Express and his family. 

Picking up his saddlebag, Jimmy straightened his hat and tucked his hair behind his ears.  He reminded himself that he had a new life to begin. With Rosemary, a plainspoken yet zealous woman devoted to something larger than herself.  Larger than either of them.  With The Cause, fighting for something he believed in.  Helping people who might not be able to help themselves.  It would be enough.  It would have to be enough. 

He stopped to take one last glance in the mirror, suddenly aware of the time he’d taken to gather his few belongings.  But he still spared a moment to knock the trail dust from his clothes before heading out the door. 

He had a wedding to get to, and the best man should look his best.