From Home to High Plains

Sunrise

Matthew leaned against Eleanor's door, shutting his eyes tight. He could remember clearly the last time he had frozen, more than ten years ago. Opening his eyes, the Marshal pushed the memory back. 

Matthew sat down, leaning against the wall. Jack Fuller looked older -- rougher -- than he had remembered. The memory tried to resurface again, but Matthew refused to revisit it. Instead, he thought back to earlier.

Matthew sat at his desk, eating with Walsh and the girl, Eleanor. Every once and awhile, he glanced out the window, knowing that Fuller would be in town soon. Walsh was talking their ears off, but Matthew wasn't paying attention. He glanced up at Eleanor, making sure she didn't notice him. The side of his mouth turned up as he thought about teasing her about her new dress, even though he liked it far more than the other one. 

Motion from outside the window drew his attention. He noticed a man, someone he hadn't seen in town before, looking around in the street before heading towards the Undertaker's building. Matthew took another spoonful of beans before downing his coffee and standing and getting ready to head outside. 

Matthew stopped Walsh from following him, then went to stand in the center of the road, aware that someone was now on top of the Undertaker's building with a rifle aimed at him. He watched as Fuller pointed his horse towards him, walking slowly. Matthew froze.

He had tried to prepare himself for seeing him again, but it hadn't worked. Fuller stared at him with piercing eyes, a grisly smile playing upon his lips.

"Been a long time, Marshal," Fuller said, his smile growing larger. Matthew couldn't speak, couldn't move. "Still as quiet as you were then, I see." Matthew sucked in a deep breath, his shoulders tensing. Fuller continued talking, Matthew straining to hear him while focusing on hiding his shaky breaths. 

The crashing of the door being flung open drew him out of his frozen state, reminding him of the man on the building. He tumbled, shooting quickly. The man fell, his rifle that had been aimed on the Marshal following. Matthew swung back to face Fuller, only to see him riding off at full speed. 

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. If Walsh hadn't flung open the door... He would've been frozen, unable to react, just like the time before. 

Matthew opened his eyes, coming back to the present. He swallowed, aware that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. 

~ 

The sunrise began to shine through the windows, the pinkish-orange light dancing across the room. Matthew stood, thankful that it was finally morning. Leaving the door to Eleanor's room, Matthew walked through the hotel, looking for the kitchen in search for coffee. 

The noises of various pots and pans clanging together directed him to the kitchen, where the older lady he had seen in the hotel earlier was fixing breakfast. 

"Would you be willing to part with a cup of coffee, Ma'am?" Matthew said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen and watching the lady crack eggs.

She turned abruptly, the shocked expression leaving her face when she recognized him. "Oh, Marshal, you gave me quite a start!" She wiped her hands on her apron before moving to the stove and grabbing a cup. "Here you go, best in town!" She spoke as she handed him the cup, now filled with coffee.

She watched him while he took a drink. "I'm not sure I caught your name, Marshal."

Matthew paused, glancing over at her. "Matthew Griffin," he stated, resuming drinking.

She nodded, "Nice to meet you, Matthew, I'm Clara." She turned back to finish her breakfast preparation. "I didn't realize you'd be staying here. We do have extra rooms, you know." 

Matthew paused again, looking at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but she continued. 

"I suppose I'll have to charge you." Clara turned around suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Oh, I know! You can repay me by taking breakfast to Miss Miller." She quickly poured another cup of coffee and gave it to Matthew with a tray of already cooked and prepared food. 

Matthew looked at her quizzically, before nodding and taking the tray, partially convinced that Clara had already planned this. 

~

Matthew knocked on the door. No response. He knocked a little louder. From inside the room, he heard a rustling, and finally the door opened. Eleanor stood in front of him, dressed in a thin, white nightgown, squinting her eyes at the bright sun that shown through the hall window. 

"Oh my gosh, Mia, why didn't you text me bef-" Eleanor stopped looking up at Matthew. Matthew looked at her confused for a second before realization flashed across her face. "Oh... I'm sorry... I thought I was still..... dreaming... "

Matthew nodded slowly. Eleanor had clearly just woken up, her hair out of its bun and tangled. She began mumbling semi-incoherent words about still being asleep. He cleared his throat, "Clara sent me to bring you breakfast."  

Eleanor smiled, looking at the food. Evidently realizing she was still in her nightgown, she quickly slammed the door shut, murmuring explanations through the door about being dressed in a second.

Matthew chuckled, waiting for the door to open again. After a few minutes of waiting, it swung open. 

Eleanor smiled hesitantly, her hands brushing out the wrinkles on her skirt. "Did you eat?" 

Matthew shook his head. 

Eleanor looked down at the food again. Clara had given them a plate of fried ham, a plate with 4 eggs, a plate of biscuits, some jam, and two cups of coffee. "There's more than enough food for me here, would you want to eat with me?" 

"I'd be much obliged." Matthew responded.