Reginald Jennings (aka Jenny)

"What's your fucking problem old guy?..."
My goddam head was still pounding (from whatever the fucking coward hit me with), my arm was bleeding from the tree? I ran into in the pitch black, and my right foot was still sopping wet from the fucking swamp that apparently is in every fucking direction.
Now this hit heal of an old fart won't let me drink from the well on "his" land.... And ask if I could rest my boot along side his fire while I take an hour or rest up.... Now I'm not scared that the of man is going to pull the trigger of that old 1851 colt navy that he has steadied (well as steadied as a frail old drunk with arthritis can hold a big fucking revolver like that) but that the old nasty piece of scrap might go off on it's own and blow up in those boney fingers anyway.
"You ain't from around here!" The old cliche shit spits in my face. "What the fuck do you think you are doing on MY property!?!?"
I step back and strafe left one pace to test the of man's pull. As I suspected he startled and near dropped that cannon down the well right there.
"You don't need that old man." I snickered at him. "Sit down before one of us gets hurt." After a few cautious glances, and a reassuring laugh. We both sat there propped up against that old stone well, as I attempted to piece together the last 2 days. I left Charleston, as it was now autumn and new Orleans is such a nicer place to be in those months. My train departed at 11:20pm from Charleston, I had no issue getting settled into my coach that evening, I awoke the next morning still docked in some small town because of some "issues" on the line ahead we were delayed for some time. It was after luncheon that the train rolled out of the station, and I return to my cabin to take advantage of the cot. Next thing I know I'm face down in the grass, my pockets av been emptied, my head has crusted blood on it and hurts like hell, it's pitch black out, and it smells like fucking swamp. So I try to find my bearings, get my boot stuck in the fucking swamp, and spend till dawn trying to retrieve it.
"Yup that's what happens..." The old coot managed to drool out. "Them's the timses we liv'in now.." as he slumps over and passes out next to an old pile of horse apples.
My mind starts racing, the train, the "robbery", the drunk, the gun that's now just laying there, my wet fucking boot....

https://western-promise.rpg-board.net/t2-assaulting-the-steele-s
The morning sun was just creeping over the mountains and an eerie still fog rose up from the cold, wet earth. Down the road Reginald would hear the sounds of two score of men marching. These were, in fact, the men of Serpent Company. A tune drums out by a lone drummer as the company marches past a plantation on the road. They are playing “The Victory of Chikamauga.” Behind the men marching, horses pull a pair of 1876 Richard Gatling repeating cannon, and a Spanish 9 pound cannon. They appear to be on their way to what would seem to be a military engagement. They only travel a few miles further down the road, barely four miles, before they stop and break to set up camp along the side of the road opposite the main gate to a plantation. The name on the Archway in the gate says Everweather.

Just a little past what would be seven, maybe seven thirty in the morning the men had finished setting up their camp. The sound of a series of explosions rocked the calm of the morning that had settled back in after the infantry company had passed by. The old codger laying passed out next to Reginald woke up with a start to the sound of the explosions. “wha-ja-ha-fu-ju!” he trembled to his feet “tarnation. They’re startin’ the welcome party early!” he stretched calmly as if explosions sounding through the hills was a normal part of living in this county. “Too bad ol’ Brad didn’t last to see his boy come home.” He dusted himself off “well, c’mon, there’s gonna be cake, An’ pie!” he goes to go shambling along down the road to, apparently what’s a party, but stumbles backwards into the ditch when a young boy races past him on a horse carrying a baby. it’s a good thing he stayed in that ditch because not far behind him some thirty men, easily a dozen on horseback, came chasing behind the boy. An old man in a business suit on a magnificent friesen horse comes galloping along behind. He got up out of the ditch throwing down his hat and stomping “crima-nitley! Gold blasted Steele’s! Always a party,” he picked up his hat shaking it angrily in the direction the boy rode off “always startin’ a war too!”

https://western-promise.rpg-board.net/t2-assaulting-the-steele-s
this is where a plot thread crosses over. Oh what a tangled web these will become. But it should help where characters are touch and go in different times and places.

"Cake an' pie". The only words I could make close to sense. Then the memories came back as fast as I could rub my eyes focused. Now there is cannons? dynamite? ...??? whatever the fuck that was.
"What the fuck have I gotten myself in?" I ask myself quietly, as I watch the unfolding events take place down the road from me. However I know that whatever is taking place is bigger than some train robbery, and some petty land dispute between neighbors.
Knowing a strange face is never welcome, especially in the South, I have to react fast. "Hey, old guy, wait up, what kinda pie you say they got?" Trying to keep from seeming phased by the situation. "Let's get a move on before we are late for that party".
"... Startin wars... Causin trouble... For they whole lives, the lot of them. All the way back before the war, before they great great grand-pappy been kicked out the old country for jus same thing." The toothless, snot stained shirt wearing, drunk muttered. "Yeah, s'pose they could run short let's get on."
With all the commotion it seemed, for the time at least, that my fortunes had changed. I now had the prospect of food, a guide to give me some idea of what the fuck is going on, and a firearm ( weather or not it works is another question).

“yep,” the old fart spit as he shuffled down the road, “that whipper-snapper’s Sterling Steele. Took after his old man after all and after all that Princess Peaches, his mama, did fer him.” He cackled slapping his knee “Mrs. Steele, folks round here calls her Princess Peaches, onna countta them growin peaches an pecans on their plantation. Boy her pie’s somethin’ magic.” He talked about it in such a wistfully dreamy tone you knew it had to be good. “No surrey-bob ain’t a baking competition she ain’t won in four years. I reccon twas the only way she could consol herself what with her husband gone off to war.”
Good lord did the old man ever walk slow. He spoke quick but moved slow as molasses in winter. At least he wasn’t the worst story teller?
“now, Texas, you ain’t from around here, so you steer cleara him. It’s his party. He just come home some damn war hero, but that mother-fucker’s a government attack dog. Bonna-fied psycho. They tried to hang him twice an’ the government said he hadn’t done nothin’ wrong. Lucky you didn’t find onna his landmines or one of his pet gators in that feckin swamp. I seen him, feedin’ people to his gators. Hear him shitface drunk screamin at his gators that they’re useless cus they don’t eat nobody, and prove it an take a nap on the big one’s back. “ he shook his head and shuddered “naw I bettcha this is his idea some party game. See who can bring the baby back to the house.”
Soon they were almost run down again by a messenger riding from the camp after where they had ridden off with the baby. “gold-blasted-son-of-a-“ the old man hollered as he fell over onto his back on the side of the road. He groaned and moaned struggling like a turtle flipped over onto its shell. Just as he was making his way back onto his feet the messenger and the gentleman in the suit on the big black horse races past them again. “bugger!” the geezer said sitting down as they ran past, otherwise he would fall again.
A thunderous boom shook the region. Now THAT was a canon. Sure enough they saw the canon-ball come rolling out of the camp as they walked up on the edge of it. “Jesus jumped up Murphy, Christ on a cracker.” It was a miracle the old fart didn’t keel over from a heart attack then and there. He did shamble his ass to the ground in the ditch. “gonna wanna duck and cover.” Two shots from a .45 rang out “fuck me gently” he said putting his head down.
There was another explosion of a landmine behind them, and more gunfire behind them down the road at that plantation that had those god awful tacky iron confederate flag gates.

Texas laid in his cot next to his boys talking to them. Texas Junior was still distraught over watching his brother get murdered in front of him, so he climbed onto his father’s cot eventually crying him self to sleep against his father’s chest. Texas couldn’t blame his youngest son. He had never met his son Austin before he died this morning, so Texas couldn’t say much to comfort his son, all he could do was hold him and stroke his hair till he fell asleep. Talking to his eldest son, Sterling, he laid there trying to absorb as much information as he could. Texas was so disoriented. He’d been home two days apparently, but, Texas couldn’t remember it. When Sterling nodded off too, Texas quietly tried to slip away from the boys. Junior almost woke up as Texas laid him back down on the cot and tucked him in. He kissed them both on the head before shuffling to the tent’s exit. Victoria was so distracted and busy with everything she was controlling around the camp that she didn’t see Texas sneak out.
He leaned against a telegraph post next to the road catching his breath, eventually sliding to a sitting position with his back against the pole and his arms around his stomach groaning as he waited patiently for this spasm to end. He looked so pathetic slumped over in the ditch moaning in pain, but the reality was, he was probably dying. He threw up again, which brought him to his knees bent over like a dog. Leaning back against the post and catching his breath he looked up at the main gate of the Everweather house and smiled. Even if he was dying, least he would die in his front yard not some mountainside in another country. He was relieved that for now, he couldn’t remember anything from what happened in Japan. He knew he had gone but, it didn’t feel like he had actually lived it. Texas figured that had to be part of the disorientation from the lead poisoning.

Uncle Ruckus and Reginald Jennings both probably took the smart choice and stayed in the ditch until all of the gunshots and explosions were over and it was safe to come out of hiding, more or less. The cavalry soldiers were rounding up all kinds of infantry soldiers, and they were building a gallows. This wasn’t a party; this was a major crime scene. One of the cavalry men approached them as they came up to the house. Men were lowering the body of a man who had been lynched from the main gates of a plantation. Uncle Ruckus just explained they were neighbors who heard the bangs and thought if there ain’t trouble, there’s a party. The soldier held them there, questioning them for a while about what they had heard and seen, which equated to nothing except for the bangs that had brought them over.
The private was distracted from questioning them by the sound of someone in the ditch vomiting. They watched the private flinch when they all saw the man lying in the ditch sick. “why me?” he muttered heading over to help the man up. He stopped and saluted the wreck of a man in the ditch. “Colonel Steele, Sir, can I help you back to the medic tent?” he knelt down to be eye level with his commanding officer.
Texas went to speak but held up one finger to pause and sneeze. He had a chunk of something that felt like maybe carrot up his nose from all the vomiting he had done this morning. “I’m not going back to the tent, Private. Here, help me up.” He said as the private slowly stood up again. Taking the colonel’s hand he helped pull the man to his feet. They weren’t that different in age, the private a little older looking in fact, but, Texas was a career soldier since childhood.
While the Private was busy helping Texas to his feet Ruckus leaned over to Reggie “an that there be Texas. You better call him Colonel Steele, he doesn’t respond well to bein addressed like a civilian. He owns basically everything around here too.”
Walking up the hill of the ditch, Texas put his hand on the Private’s shoulder to steady himself until they were on the road. Texas let out a deep sigh leaning over and bracing himself with his hands on his knees breathing slowly for a moment. He was sure he was going to puke again. Catching his breath, Texas stood up and ran his hand through his cropped short curly black hair. Wearing nothing but his uniform slacks and his boots, it was hard to tell he was a soldier. He looked more like someone’s Mexican got loose. His skin had that Spanish golden tan to it, what wasn’t black and blue with bruising anyway. Through the bruised and beaten skin tones solid black images were a little more visible than they had been the few days prior. On his shoulders and upper chest there were horse shoe shapes and possibly a cow’s hoof. Go to Japan they said, get a tattoo they said. It’ll be fun they said. I don’t think they meant get a tattoo in a Japanese prison. They did foster that image of the super macho alpha male that Spanish men tried to embody. Even sick as he was, Texas’ dark eyes glinted with the words fight me when he made eye contact with Reginald for the first time. “Thank you Private, you’re dismissed.” Texas told the private who hesitated to leave but eventually did. He didn’t have the stones to challenge Texas.
He screwed his head to the side looking Reginald over closely, narrowing his eyes just a smidge. A falcon shrieked in the peach orchard on the other side of the road, diving after a squirrel. He lifted his left eyebrow curious. Slowly a smirk spread across his lips widening into a cocky grin.
Have you ever seen that look that crosses a bull’s eyes before he charges? That was the look he gave Reginald.

"Sit ye'r arse down b'fer one of us shits our britches!" Ruckus shouted, as he stepped in front of Reggie. (Only to miss his last step and stumbled right on passed and hit the floor.)
"Fuck me I think he did." Reggie half sarcastically snarked, keeping that same cold stare on Tex. "I ain't here for no trouble, and if you be good 'nough to at least hear me out, maybe we can both keep OUR britches clean"

Texas spit towards the side of the road. “S’pose it’s all I got clean on me.” He stalked towards Reggie, snorting and looking down at uncle Ruckus he groaned reaching down and hoisting the old man up by his suspenders. During all of this, he didn’t break eye contact with Reggie the whole time. Reggie got a glimpse of a fuck off knife tucked in the back of his pants when he leaned down to pick up uncle Ruckus, however. “what’s your story? Hmm? C’mon back to the house, can clean yourselves up.” He nodded his head back towards the house they had been lowering a body from the main gate of.

"..... that's where you come in..." Reggie paused to take down the last sip of milk. "And that's here we are." "And, as far as I can guess from y'all accents, where we are is far north of my beloved N, Orleans." Coming dangerously close to getting insulting and almost worse sounding 'dandy'. Reggie quickly adjusted his back. 'Crack, cracck,...' up his spine the sound echoed... Placing his well worn, but well made black Steadson back on his head. "But not so far away from home that I am positive that someone near by can vouch for myself or my family."
"That so?" Tex leaned in close looking Reggie up and down. "And well just who the HELL are you?!?!" He tried to demand of Reggie. But the old lions roar of the commander had been cut low from it's glory days. And a faint touch of uncle Ruckus was present the way he way hunched over that table straining to make sense of himself or the situation.
"Get yet arse back to bed b'for I get 'HER' in here!" Uncle Ruckus slammed his plate on the table. "We will figure that all out in time." He look over at Reggie like he had found himself a new friend and smiled that nasty dirty smile. "I'll watch over him and find out who he is."
"Listen here old man..." Both Tex and Reggie stood up in protest. But all Ruckus could do as the noise of the two men drowned any audible dialogue out was sit back in his chair and laugh.
"Besides, if he tries anything I got my old pea shooter sighted and ready...." He murmured while frantically searching himself for the colt he always had.
"You mean this?" Reggie snarked as he dropped it on the table and slid it accross to Tex. "Are you sure he should even have that thing?" As they looked at each other it became clear that no one at this table (sans the old man who was still giggling intermittently between mouthfuls of pie) was to be fucked with.

"Fine, you better keep him close." Tex slid the gun accross the table. Then looked up at Reggie again. "You best not do anything stupid, y'hear?" Then both men turned back to the old man who had NOT managed to catch the gun and was now fumbling with the thing on his lap in obvious discomfort from the weight of the thing hitting his bony pelvis.
"Oh with Vergil Earp keeping me guard? I think I'll be ok till we get sorted. I ain't got no burning need to get shot in someone else's back yard." The smugness had started to grow noticably over Reggie the last few minutes, and more of his person was starting to manifest again. Maybe it was the food in his belly, the warmth of the day starting to arise. Or maybe it was that feeling of "Why the fuck does this happen to me ALWAYS?" That had now become rhetorical and no longer a joke. And that today was another one of "those days" was cause to say "Here we go again" out loud. Which caused both other men to take pause and give a half questioning stare that faded just as quick.
"Let start with your name boy. What's that?" The old man was legitimately impressed with himself for coming up with a question so soon an on his own.
"Reginald Jennings, from the Charleston Jennings." He explained getting close to that dandy sound again. "However." He adjusted hearing that tone that was obviously bread in to him, and even more obvious that he wants rid of. "I have very little use for South Carolina at the best of times. No, I spend good part of the last year running security for my uncle's ranch out west." A cold stare grew over his face and the shadow cast by the brim of his hat seemed to darken his eyes even further. "But suppose he's gonna be fucking right mad, once he gets word that I'm alive, and I haven't sent word in 2 months to him."
"Well Reginald Jennings, nice to meet you."
"Just Reggie will do." He cut off Ruckus quickly
"Reggie, we need to get us 2 flasks,1 fer water, and 1 fer whiskey, and then we can find out what to do with you." And the two men stumbled out into the daylight.

Texas knocked his knuckles against the solid oak table in the kitchen. Tap, tap, tap, tap... over and over again in the same repetitive pattern of four. His eye twitching and his head cocking to the side like he was listening to somebody else speak. Somebody Reggie and Ruckus couldn’t see or hear. Biting his lip he screwed his mouth shut slapping his open palm on the table and getting up. “Excuse me Reggie, shut the fuck up a second.” Texas held up one finger in a motion for pause. “Ruckus, Don’t you god damn dare threaten me in my fucking house.” He said pointing that finger at Ruckus. “and second, Victoria’s too fuckin’ busy dealing with high treason, kidnapping, murder, murder, murder, murder...” he kinda rattled off and lost his train of thought seemingly. Maybe his thoughts were echoing in his head in some kind of positive feedback loop and he just wasn’t hearing anything else. He slipped his hand into his back pocket and sighed with relief finding his cigarette case in his back pocket. Slipping one in between his lips, he lit it off the pilot light of the stove as soon as flame touched it, Reggie and Ruckus knew he wasn’t smoking just tobacco; opium. Texas straightened taking a drag from his cigarette. Smirking he lifted one eyebrow in slight surprise or amusement. Maybe it was just a twitch. He seemed to do that a lot.
Exhaling he sighed with relief again and smirked watching the smoke curl out through his nostrils. “Victoria’s too fuckin’ busy dealin’ with high treason, kidnapping, murder, and more murder to rein me in.” He was right. Arguably if his wife was the brains of this operation, she would be too busy dealing with all of this to really keep an eye on her obviously sick husband. “speaking of reining in...” he said taking another draw off his cigarette “SOMEONE BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXPLINATION FOR WHY THERE’S NO FUCKING WORK GETTING DONE!” Texas bellowed. A woman “EEeep!” in a hall to the left outside the kitchen. There was a crash of books being knocked over. It would seem that the staff had forgotten what their master’s roar could be like.
Boots, soldier’s boots came running towards their direction. Several of them. Texas opened the kitchen door snarling through smoke at the four soldiers who pulled up short. “Colonel Steele, Sir,” the men saluted “we were questioning your staff, about the incidents outside, Sir. We promise, as soon as we are done questioning them, they’ll be allowed to return to their duties.” These soldiers didn’t seem familiar with him. They were very formal, and afraid. They didn’t know what to expect from him.
Snorting and blowing smoke out his nose, Texas closed his eyes shaking his head in frustration. “you’re dismissed. Go, get out of my sight.” He snapped at the men who almost fell over an army doctor who was coming up behind them.
“Texas,” the doctor spoke slowly. “How do you feel?” reaching out slowly he took Texas’s arm by the wrist from the kitchen door and moved it so he could get into the kitchen with Reggie and Ruckus and Texas. He took out his watch counting the seconds tick by and the pulse of Texas’ vein in his wrist while he held his arm. “Are you able to keep anything down yet?”
Texas sighed shaking his head pulling his arm back and running his hand through his thick curly black hair. “Not so good Jimmy. I’m” he sighed “I don’t think so.” He leaned against one of the counters rocking back and forth slightly. “Do they know anything yet?”
Doctor Jimmy shook his head “I don’t know and if I did it wouldn’t be healthy for you to know right now. Why don’t you go get back into bed? I’ve got everything set up for your next treatment.”
Texas flinched when Doctor Jimmy mentioned the treatment. “That sounds fun Jimmy, but, got company.” Texas pointed to Ruckus and Reggie. “Say, Reggie was it, Charleston Jennings huh? You’re cousin to the Conroy’s next door then I suppose. Jimmy, does he seem familiar to you?” Now, everybody in the family knew that Jimmy Conroy had died from a cannonball to the chest some eight years ago now. Doctor Jimmy and Texas had walked past the grave stone last night on the walk over to the other big house he owned. Doctor Jimmy tried to signal to Reggie and to Ruckus that they should play along with Texas’ delusion that Doctor Jimmy was Texas’ best friend and neighbor, and apparently Reggie’s cousin.

Victoria left the medical tent and continued her investigation, she finished talking to the prisoners, then started talking to witness. Once that was done she found one of her service and told her to find Kentucky and the Marshal to meet and discuss the notes.
She went to the officer’s tent to wait for them. Kentucky came baring in, screaming this is a set up and that this is all Texas fault. He carried on for a few minutes before Victoria turned some of her pent-up anger on him. “How typical for you to blame your brother just because you don’t know what’s going on”. Victoria turn on him. Glaring at him. Kentucky paused for a moment before he continued. You want to know what else I don’t know! I don’t know, why theirs this crazy red head, a random Asian woman. I don’t know why Alex was killed or why the kid was stolen. There’s some black woman running around on our land. There’s some gay, going on about a train robbery and Indian and Oregon is missing.
SHUT UP KENTUCKY! Shouted Victoria. First, Ming Lee is My informant. Second, the red head is the mother of Texas’s other bastard child and lastly, Alex was the victim of brutality. As for Indian and Oregon I’m worried that he may have had something to do with that train robbery. They where bring a package to me.
Kentucky looked at her, A package? He said, Yes replied Victoria, an important one. Kentucky shack’s his head and said. This! is why, I got out of the family business”. You think you did Kentucky, rebuttal Victoria. Now go find out what happen to your brothers and that package. Consider yourself on clock, you report directly to me, now get out. Kentucky gets up, salutes mockingly and leaves.
Just as Kentucky leaves, the marshal showed up. He talks to Kentucky for a few moments before Kentucky leaves. The Marshal enter the tent, greeted Victoria before have a seat in an empty chair. “How is the investigation going?” asked Victoria. Oh, its coming long remarked The Marshal. Victoria asked a few more question all of which The Marshal side stepped.
Victoria looked at Marshal, Alright Marshal, sins your giving me the run around anyway, I’ll just ask you. Should I be worried about my family legally? The Marshal responded.” As much as I believe this is a self defences case, a person to explain that in court is always good.” At which point he gets up to leave. Just as he moves the flap of the tent he says” All thou what we did was necessary to take your property back. I highly advise you leave the legal work to the law men.” I appreciates the advice but, If I had marshal, my family would be dead. She remarked as the marshal walked out of the tent.
Victoria exist the tent. She pulls a cigarette out of a sliver case and lite it with a match. She begins to head back to the House. As she makes her way through the camp. The place looks like a battle zone mud and blood are caked everywhere. Bullet wholes scattered through the tents. The stench of sulfur still lingers in the air.
As she came up to the gats leading to her home. The rope is still hanging from the fence, where they hung her friend. Her heart felt like lead as she followed the blood stand path up to her house. The door was open from people coming and going as she entered the foyer. Just in time to hear Texas shouting at the staff. She headed into the kitchen where she heard the voice coming from. She entered the room to a scene of her husband the doctor and two men she didn’t recognize, her husband going on about a man that died years ago from a cannon through the chest.
“What the hell is going on in here, and who the hell are you too”?! she demand looking at her husband and the doctor.

As Victoria was leaving the medic tent, Mackenzie came running out after her. “Mrs. Steele! Uh I mean, shit, Staff-Sergeant Steele,” he stopped and saluted her before leaning over gasping for breath. “I was running some tests on a sample of the Colonel’s blood. It’s not good. There’s still more than a lethal amount of Lead in his blood. I,” he huffed and gasped finally catching his breath “I’m pretty sure we have a way to remove it, there are injections I can give him to pass it from his blood to his kidneys and liver more quickly, we can thin out his blood with a saline solution, but, I went back to check on him and he was gone. He must have gotten freaked out by all the activity in the tent. I tried to sedate him but because of the vomiting I didn’t want to sedate him too hard and have him choke on his own vomit.” He sighed shaking his head “I’ve got people out looking for him but, even if he gets the treatment, his odds of living till morning aren’t good.” He sighed “I’ve got to get back to the other patients. If you see him, get him back here so I can treat him.” He saluted her and then went sprinting back to the medic tent to see to his other patients while he had time.
texas shook his head taking a drag of his smoke again and holding the smoke in his lungs a little longer now before exhaling in a long, slow sigh. “so nobody’s going to tell me shit hmm?” shaking his head he patted Doctor Jimmy on the shoulder moving away from the doctor. “speaking of family though, i’ll leave y’all to get reacquainted. I gotta go look after my boys.” Crushing out his cigarette between his fingers he leaned against the counter to reach the ashtray at the far backside of it. He took a few ragged breaths stumbling towards the kitchen door to the side yard, leaning on the counter the length of the way there for support. “Jimmy, i’m goin’ back to the medic tent. I ain’t, nah, i’m not in the mood to try any more fucking treatments. I’m, i’m fuckin’ tired.” Groaning he leaned over taking a cane from the umbrella holder by the door. he groaned leaning heavily on the cane in his right hand. he couldn’t see, and felt a wave of dizziness come over him. Good thing he had remembered the cane, but, damn it, it was damn tempting to just lay down here. He remembered Junior sobbing and screaming though and sighed feeling his heart breaking a little for the son he just met. He felt his stomach tighten thinking of his son Sterling. Groaning he leaned over hoping the pain in his gut wouldn’t be so bad if his muscles weren’t as stretched out. he was wrong. It didn’t change anything. How was Sterling going to take it that he had a brother now, and apparently a sister as well? Wondering where his own brothers were, texas groaned feeling sick. He was so tired of throwing up. Briefly he felt a wash of relief come over him feeling the cold stone flood against his bare chest and face. He must have fallen but, it felt so cool and relaxing he just might be able to doze off if he stayed here. He heard a woman’s heeled shoes come into the kitchen as he was closing his eyes.

Texas bolted to his feet out of reflex to the sound of her voice with that tone in it. She was ready to shoot. He turned to face her but he got so dizzy from that little turn he almost fell, grabbing the table for support. “Peaches, Sweetheart,” he smiled at her. He groaned trying to straighten out and stand up straight in front of his wife. A spasm of pain tore through the core of his body. It forcing him to stagger towards Victoria, slipping and crashing to his knees in front of her. “forget about em, they’re just here for the party.” He grabbed her by the wrist trying to get up. “honey, sweetie, darling,” he said leaning against her and putting his arms around her. “Victoria, i’m” a spell of dizziness came over him again and his legs threatened to give out under him. He looked her in the eyes. His were wide with fear, bloodshot and dark from exhaustion. He tried to reach out and touch her face, but he was seeing double, and worse. He ended up stroking her hair till his fingers traced along her jaw to her chin. He couldn’t really see, or focus, and he was hallucinating, so he was seeing like a blind man with his fingers. When he found her lips he leaned in slow so he didn’t smash his head into hers. Tears welled in his eyes when he kissed her. “Victoria, i fell in love with you the moment i first laid eyes on you when we were children. Even after they blamed me for the death of your sister, i still loved you. Spent my life just trying to be a good enough man for you. I love you. I’ll be damned if i die without telling you that.”

Doctor Jimmy just rolled his eyes and sighed. He was exhausted and rational thought had not been high on his list of late. If he could just get Texas to go to bed for a few hours at least so he could rest too.