Wild and Unruly

Chapter 9

No, he confirmed in his head. It won't be like that at all.

He felt a prickle at the back of his neck as he suddenly, fully understood that he had no idea what it would be like. He didn't know what was going to happen at the County Recorder, or how Harry would react to him barging in on the Lonely Rose again. Despite the fighting and miscommunication, he thought Harry would be happy... happy to have him back. He was almost sure of it.

Then why won't he pick up the phone? A long talk is what we need, and he won't even...

The plane's engine died and the seatbelt sign flickered off. Louis's mouth went dry. He breathed in sharply, butterflies exploding in his stomach as he tried not to feel too hurt or too nervous.

"The captain and crew would like to wish you a pleasant stay here in Sheridan, Wyoming..."

*

The County Recorder's office was wedged into the southeastern corner of the modern courthouse, an awkward, black and tan building that had been built into the hill where Sheridan's historic county courthouse still stood. Louis shifted his weight on the sidewalk in front of the business-like double doors, clenching and unclenching his fists.

His little rental car -- Louis wasn't sure, but he thought it might have been the same dusty red compact he'd rented all those weeks ago when he'd first touched down at the Sheridan airport -- was parked at a meter down the street. He'd been tense on the drive into town, jittery. Constantly trying to talk himself down from getting too worked up, and failing.

What was he going to tell Harry if this didn't work?

Hey, I had another whim that I got excited about but couldn't follow through... He shook himself. No, that was his own toxic self-doubt framing things. If there was nothing here, it wouldn't be his fault. It would be due to wind, water and rock. Their whims. And the outcome would have nothing to do with his relationship with Harry, anyway. Nothing at all.

He remembered what Zayn had said about him being an advocate, straightened his shoulders, and put his hand on the door.

"Louis! Holy shit! Hey, Louis!"

Louis let out a little gasping breath and whipped his head around. Niall was jogging across the street in his worn cowboy boots, waving wildly. Louis felt his heart crack open a little with warm relief at the sight of him. A truck turned the corner and honked as it jerked to a stop, but Niall didn't pay any attention to it, not even pausing to flip off the driver. He was still waving, and had a strained, worried look on his face, like he thought Louis might bolt.

"Lou!"

Louis's feet felt oddly clumsy as he turned to face Niall. Weighted down, as though he were in a dream. It did feel a bit like a dream -- standing here in the late afternoon sunlight on a corner in downtown Sheridan, its crumbling, boxy brick storefronts making the town look more like part of the Old West than Louis had ever seen it. He broke into a smile.

"Hello," he said, a note of wry amusement in his voice as Niall came to a lurching stop in front of him. "Miss me?"

"You don't fucking know the half of it," Niall panted. "Thank God you're back." He blew out a puff of air and put his hands on his knees, recovering from his sprint. "Look, I know..." he said, before having to stop to take in another lungful, still trying to catch his breath. "I know Harry fucked up a little."

Louis sighed and shifted his weight again. "Niall --"

"Wait!" Niall cried, holding his hands out. "Lemme finish. Obviously he didn't handle everything in the best possible way, but he does love you, Louis." He paused for a last shuddering hiccup of air, his fingers curling around Louis's bicep and squeezing lightly. "He needs you. Loves you and needs you."