Loving River

The Seamstress

River sat in the straight back chair, her needle methodically going in and out of the blue shirt. She sewed mindlessly. Her eyes didn't see the rough, dirty shirt she repaired. No, her eyes beheld something much more beautiful. A beacon of hope. A savior of sorts. In and out her needle travelled as she examined the beautiful scenery. It wasn't a dusty, crowded town any longer. No, it was something grand and appealing. The beautiful warm sunshine shone down brightly on the meadow of long grasses waving in the wind. Windflowers of all kinds seemed to flourish and bask in the refreshing sun. The breeze was gentle and reassuring. She couldn't see a river but she new it was there. She could here the waters as they flowed, faithfully following the course to their destination.

There were no mines. No houses, or towns, or people. Nothing but peace and serenity. It seemed to flow into River as she gazed at this land, as she walked through it in her mind. It flowed into her until she seemed to shrug aside her troubles, her worries. Everything that preyed upon her mind late at night while she tried to sleep was pushed aside. It didn't matter. It truly didn't. Life mattered. And life always repaired itself. She could do that. She could repair her mind and soul until it reflected this beautiful peaceful scene.

"I need to talk to you."

River's brow furrowed as she turned to see a man, a man dressed in dusty clothing with a tin star on his duster.

"River. We must talk." He stepped forward.

She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. She just stood still and watched as the unknown man approached her. How was it possible that he knew her name? She didn't know him. She would have surely remembered him. But she didn't. He was just an unknown approaching her. She tried to feel fear, the kind of fear she usually felt when men- any men came up to her. But it was not there. River remained motionless as she fought with the fear that would not rise. How was it that her body had no natural fear of this unknown man? Why did her subconscious fail to react? Normally, she would wake up drenched in perspiration and screaming if a man was even in her dreams.

He was close. Close enough for her to reach out and touch him, if she desired. Wait. Why would she even think such a thought? This man couldn't be trusted. And why was he in her daydream anyway? This was supposed to be her time. Her time free from life and the anxiety she normally felt towards it.

"River. You aren't safe."

She knew it. Oh boy, did she know it. Why was this man so close to her? Why did he know her? Slowly she lifted her face and her eyes met his. She gasped and felt her world start to spin as she locked gazes with eyes that she'd only seen once before in her life.

Zane.

"River." His hand lifted to cup her cheek. "My father is coming. For you. River, we must talk."
Closing her eyes, River blocked him from her sight. There was no logical reason why she should feel the desire to lean into his touch. This was a large and dangerous man. Why did she feel so protected?

It must be the tin star. It's laying tricks with her mind. He must wear it to deceive the enemy. What a clever trick. It was working.

"River." Zane said again, though this time he spoke differently. His words seemed almost as a caress. Much like his hand against her cheek. "River." He murmured against her lips. "I've got plans for you." He whispered just before his mouth closed over her's in a passionate soul reaching-

"River, honey? Are you alright? You seem out of it today. Did you sleep alright?"

River blinked slowly before she turned her head to meet Mrs. Kate's eyes. "I'm sorry." She whispered as she shook her head in an attempt to clear it of Zane's powerful touch. "I didn't seem to hear you. What was it you said?"
Clucking in disapproval, Mrs. Kate took the shirt from River's trembling hands. "You've been working too hard." She scolded as she set the shit aside and turned back to River. "This is what comes of not letting you have more sun on your skin."

River pulled away from Mrs. Kate's touch on her shoulder. She didn't want to go outside where it was dangerous. She was safer in the house.
Mrs. Kate sighed heavily at the obvious rejection. This was a common argument between the two.

"Dearie. Run over to the mercantile. We need some more black and cream thread." Mrs. Kate said as she searched her a couple coins to pay for the thread.

"I thought you shopped for supplies yesterday." River replied as she retrieved the shirt and returned to her task. Repairing miner's shirts was and ongoing task. She didn't dare rest for even a moment.
"I did. But his shipment of black and cream thread was supposed to come in today. He said to just stop by and pick it up." Mrs. Kate eyed the broken girl before her. Though she was fully grown in body and mind, River had never seemed to let go of the past. She was so young when her parents died so tragically, Mrs. Kate had held hopes that the girl wouldn't remember it. Unfortunately for the both of them, the memories seemed to be burned into her mind.
"I'll go." River conceded. She hated to make Mrs. Kate worry over her so, but she couldn't seem to quench her fear of men. As often as she could, River preferred to stay inside. Away from men and danger. Her mind seemed to consider it a protection of sorts.

"Oh good." Mrs. Kate sighed in relief . "I need to black to finish Mrs. Porter's mourning dress."

River closed the little shop's door and took a deep breath. The air wasn't as refreshing as that of her meadow, but it would do. She crossed the street and made her way down the board walk to the mercantile. Absently, she pondered why Zane had been in here meadow. She hadn't thought of him in a long while. Usually, when she did think of Zane it was accompanied by horrifying memories. Today had been different though. Very different. River couldn't figure out why he had been there. Why she wasn't afraid of him and what he had said about his father and needing to talk. River sighed, a small smile turning up the corner of her lips as she thought of the interrupted kiss.

"I must truly be losing my mind if I'm now dreaming of an outlaw's kiss." She mumbled as she walked thought the mercantile's doors. "Hello, Mr. Weber. I came for the thread on today's-" her sentence died as she locked eyes with the man before her.
Brown and blue eyes seemed to burn into each other. The only people in the room made it a quiet affair.

"Hello, River."
"You remember my name." Her lips and tongue felt like chalk as she forced the words out of her tight throat.
"Of course." He took two small steps forward. "I've spent my whole life remembering you."
River's eyes drifted downward to the metal star pinned on his duster. "You're a sheriff."

"Upholding the law and everything." His hand reached out and gently brushed against her cheek, as if testing to assure himself that she was real. "River, we need to talk."
River raised her gaze to meet his. She studied him for three short seconds before her eyes rolled and she collapsed into his arms in a dead faint.

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