Matters To Me

Chapter 41

Billy had snuck out of the room as Missie slept where outside was Melquiades.

"I can't thank you enough," Billy said.

"Well don't, 'cause we're fucked man. What are we going to do," Melquiades asked him, the two out of money.

"I don't know, you tell me. What are we going to do?" Billy asked, frustrated. He hadn't asked for Melquiade's help, he didn't ask for any of this. 

Melquiades looked around the area and then glanced back at Billy.

"I have an idea," He said.

~

Melquiades's grand idea was to rob a bank. However, Billy didn't have any better ideas at the moment, so he went along with him. 

The two of them rode to the bank, tying their horses up and then slowly walking in.

"Fifteen... Hope your wife feels better," Billy heard the banker say to a gentleman.

"Thank you, Felipe."

"Welcome to Bank of Chihuahua. Can I help you sir?"

Billy glanced back at Melquiades, who stood by the entryway, hand on his gun. Billy looked at his gun, his hand brushing over it as he looked and saw a young boy and his mother. The young boy watched him, and Billy stared. That could've been Missie and Asher. The image flashing in his head of someone robbing a bank and being caught in the crossfire.

"Señor?... Señor?.... Señor?" The banker slowly said, as Billy didn't say anything and glanced back at him.

He couldn't do this, Missie wouldn't want this. He wasn't a criminal, he was a good man, Missie married him because she believed in him. He had already almost been hung and left her in a robbery gone wrong before. He couldn't do that again to her, not now, not when she needed him. He couldn't imagine the pain she would feel if she had to bury him, her husband, just a few short days after the burial of their son.

Billy quickly walked out, pushing past Melquiades. He ran to the well, unstrapping his holster, throwing it down, and breathing heavily. He couldn't believe what he had almost just done.

"Come! What was that?" Melquiades asked, taking his arm roughly.

"I can't do this," Billy said, pushing his hand away.

"You can't do this, we talked about this."

"You don't understand. I'm not a criminal."

"Oh, Billy, Billy!" Melquiades said, laughing and turning away.

"I only shot someone once in self-defense and I had no choice."

"No, no, no, no, no. You told me you rustled cattle, you stole horses," Melquiades said, poking his chest. "Those are crimes, my friend."

"Not against people."

"Against people..." Melquiades turned away, frustrated.

"I don't rob stores because people run them, I tried that once, I'm not doing it again."

"That is not a store, Billy. That is a bank," he pointed angrily.

"Yeah, this bank? We wouldn't be robbing from the bank. We'd be robbing from all these people and their savings."

Melquiades scoffed.

"Including that mother and her son. I won't do that. It's not right."

Billy sat on the well as Melquiades ran his hand through his hair before placing his hat back on his head.

"Hey," Melquiades said, patting his arm. "You're a motherfucker, gringo."

Billy sat there as he watched Melquiades walk away. He sat there momentarily before grabbing his holster and then walking home.

Missie was up and working on her sewing when he walked in.

"Hey," she said, a small smile on her lips.

He loved that about Missie, even in her darkest times, she still managed to smile. He quickly walked over to her, throwing his holster to the side, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"What's wrong?" Missie asked, suddenly feeling like maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. But the way he held her told her something had just happened.

"I almost did something awful today," he said, his grip tightening on her.

Missie held him as she played with his curls at the base of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Everything."

Missie gently pulled his face away, staring into his eyes.

"Billy-"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "I'm not a good man, what I almost did-"

"But you didn't."

Billy looked away.

"Hey, talk to me, what's going on?" She asked, gently taking his hand, running her hand up an down his arm.

"I almost robbed a bank."

He waited for her to react. However, she just stood there calmly.

"Alright," was all she said.

"There was a mother and her son there... what if... what if it's my fault?"

"What is?"

"I'm not the man Ma or you think I am. I don't deserve you, or a child... Maybe that's why... I can't be a father, I can barely be a good husband."

Missie gently placed her fingers on his lips.

"It's not your fault, Billy. You deserve to be happy. You are a good man. You have a good heart, you are selfless. I fell in love with you because you are that man. You can't base your character on moments when you falter. We make mistakes but you didn't rob the bank. You're grieving, we have no money, but we will get through this. I don't need anything but you, and the man you are right now, and that man is good."

Billy stood up, running his hands through his hair.

Missie slowly stood up and took hold of his hand.

"Rest," she said, cupping his face. "When was the last time you slept?"

Billy couldn't remember. Missie gently squeezed his hand.

"Why don't you clean up, I'll make you some food, and then you rest."

Billy listened, washing his hands and face as she made him some food. He sat down as she handed him a bowl of soup and kissed the top of his head, gently massaging his shoulders.

He scarfed his food down until he had his fill and then he felt his eyes grow heavy. He removed his boots and slowly crawled into bed, his eyes shut before his head hit the pillow. Missie watched him as she sewed. She wished she could make him feel better. She knew he had reached a low to consider robbing a bank, the last time being right after his mother's death. Though he had grown from that experience, he hadn't gone through with it. She believed in him. She meant every word she had told him, he was a good man.