Annie Oakley's Arc

Chapter 20 of 25

Annie heard the horses before she heard the voices. Two sets of hooves, slowing at the deck. Boots on the boards. She sat up on the couch and pushed the quilt back. Her stomach turned again. She looked at the shiny bin Temperance had set by the couch before she left and pulled it into her lap just in time. On the porch, the voices stopped. Temperance spoke first, low and flat. "She's not feeling well. She might have a bug." "She had that a few weeks ago." Lainey's voice, plain and sure. "There's no way she's already got another. It's probably just a sudden flare. She's been getting them a lot." Annie heaved into the bin. The cockapoo pressed against her hip. She had come here with a promise to bring a song. She had brought nothing. No verse, no words, only this. The thought made her cry harder while she was still being sick. The door opened. Lainey crossed the room in three steps and sat down on the couch beside her. She did not ask what was wrong. She took the bin out of Annie's hands, set it on the floor, and pulled Annie against her shoulder. "I've got you," Lainey said. Annie sobbed into her vest. "I didn't bring anything. I told her I would and I didn't." "Bring what." "A song. New words. She was waiting." Temperance stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. She watched them a moment. Then she stepped in and shut the door behind her. "I wasn't waiting for a song," Temperance said. "I was waiting for you." Annie lifted her face from Lainey's shoulder. "But I said—" "You said a lot of things yesterday. None of them were a contract." Lainey rubbed slow circles on Annie's back. "Breathe out longer than you breathe in. Count four." Annie tried. Her shoulders shook once, then settled. The pain in her belly did not leave, but it stopped climbing. She kept her head against Lainey's vest and let her count. "I thought if I showed up empty I'd ruin it," Annie said. "Ruin what," Temperance said. "What we started." Temperance came closer and sat on the low table across from the couch. She put her hands on her knees. "You showed up sick. I saw it. I got Lainey. That's what we started." Annie's mouth trembled. She nodded. "Rest here today," Temperance said. "Come back when your stomach's quiet. Bring the song then. Or don't. I'll be here either way." Lainey did not let go. Annie closed her eyes against her shoulder. The obstacle she had carried in, the fear of arriving with nothing, went out of her all at once. She had arrived with nothing, and Temperance had not turned. The trust held. She let herself lean into it and rest.