IONBAIO I'm sorry that there were no more updates for you. But for what it's worth (and I think I speak for a lot of writers, here) sometimes it's super discouraging to have so few readers when we're in the process of writing. I, for one, am fueled by feedback. The more people I feel are waiting on an update, the more motivated I feel to write it. So, while I am sorry that I am not great about updating, I do hope you stick with me on this one and toss out some encouragement as I go. For what it's worth, I had a productive week and actually have three chapters spooled up and ready to go. So it won't be so long between this update and the next... 

ummmooops You have accurately predicted the content the theme of this coming chapter! Poor Gabe very much would have been left behind, if not for Josh's forward thinking and tiptop quality friendship, lol. 

dragonfliespineapple To of MY books in a day!? That's bound to take a lot out of you, lol. Too much angst is like too much salt. It's great going down, but it'll wreak havoc on your blood pressure, lolol. Welcome to Liz's wonderful world of misery and melancholy! If you get bored waiting for the next update of Something Blue, feel free to hop over to Melody of Silence. There's three books there, which should keep you busy for at least a couple days, and they make this series look like a frolic in the park 😂

Alrighty. Here's another chapter! I've gone ahead and built up a backlog for myself so I can return to more consistent edits. My goal is to get this story finished in the next month so I can focus entirely on publishing Melody of Silence which is gonna be quite a feat... 

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Gabe

From his place in the shadows of the front porch, Gabe listened to the muffled, distant sounds of the girls preparing for bed. It had been nearly two weeks since the saloon had been open for business, but all of the girls still kept odd hours. Laying the rifle across his knees, he pulled his watch from his pocket and squinted at the time.

Nearly two in the morning.

With a sigh, he tucked the watch away and closed frigid fingers around the cool wood and icy metal of the rifle, eyes scanning the road, ears pricked to strange sounds. The first few nights of this watch, every sound had been strange. The distant thump of a lump of snow falling to earth from a branch. The rustle of sodden leaves as some scampering creature tore from one tree to another. Owls hooting and insects slowly coming alive in the thawing earth.

He wasn't so jumpy, now. Then again, his body and mind were so heavy with exhaustion he doubted he'd be jumpy even if the reverend himself strode up the road, torch in hand.

He told himself it was the anger keeping him awake even when he crawled into his bed each morning. He was, after all, angry at just about everyone and everything on earth. At the reverend for being such a loathsome mound of slime. At the townspeople for being so mind-bogglingly stupid as to follow in the reverend's path. At the girls for descending into tittering, nervous antics, refusing even to visit the outhouse in groups smaller than five. At Caroline for appointing him general in this war he had never cared about. At his mother for dying in his place. At Katherine for refusing, even now, to consider him a true partner. At himself, for allowing all of this to fall so tragically out of hand.

But in truth, it wasn't the anger keeping him up. It was the images that played against his eyelids every time he had the audacity to attempt a semblance of rest. Pale skin and wide eyes. Bright red blood, thick and seeping.

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