Blackwater Flower

I woke up early the next morning, laying on top of the bed over top of the blankets. The framed picture of my father was laying on the bed next to me. I must have fallen asleep holding it- again. That hadn't really been a rare occurrence since my father's passing.

I put the picture down on the bed next to me, before rolling off of the bed in order to start the day.

I exchanged the dress I had been wearing yesterday for a clean on. I ran my fingers though my hair, trying to get the tangles out of my hair before pulling it to the side and putting it into a tight braid. Then, I pushed my feet into a pair of flat shoes before walking out of the room and heading downstairs. I paused slightly when I got to the bottom and saw Forrest.

I hadn't expected him to be awake just yet. I definitely didn't expect to see him pulling the chairs down off of the table tops. "Morning." I gaped out, making my way back behind the counter. "Want some breakfast?" I offered.

I watched as he slowly turned around to look at me. "I...um." He simply nodded his head as if to say 'yes'. So it would seem that I'm not the only one who wasn't all that much of a talker. I didn't really think much of it and instead started making our food.

Remembering Howard's comment from yesterday, I also started to get some coffee going for him. Once the food was done, I set his plate down on the counter as well as filling his mug with the hot coffee.

I barely had time to eat my own food before people started pulling into the station. Somewhere in the mix of it all, Forrest had disappeared. The shorter pieces of my hair began to fall away form the captivity of the braid, so I was constantly having to push the loose locks away from my face. As well as use a spare dish rag to wipe away the sweat that was accumulating on my forehead.

The natural heat from the daily weather did not mix well with the heat radiating off of the stove. Even with the front door propped open, trying to get the place cooled off a bit; but that didn't seem to be working in the slightest.

The more I focused on the heat, the more miserable I felt. I felt like a damn chicken running aorund with it's head cut off as I multi-tasked trying to do everything at once.

It was starting to get a little later in the day when I walked out onto the front porch to refill Forrest's mug. He had been sitting out here a majority of the day. It was like he was waiting for something to happen, or for someone to show up.

"Forrest?" I questioned, looking down to where he sat. "Hmm?" He hummed, still looking out in the distance. "I, uh, well you see, the kitchen's running low on a few supplies. I-If you like I could go into town and get some more." I couldn't stop myself from stuttering as I spoke to the man sitting in front of me.

"Alone?" He questioned, still not looking at me. "Well, yeah. I can't do much inside without this stuff. So I figured-" He was quick to stand from him seat, causing me to quick shut my mouth and stop talking. "Nah, you're not going alone. Go close up the kitchen and I'll take you into town." He said, finally bringing his eyes down to look at me.

His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, and as per usual, he had a cigar burning between his lips. His scruffy appearance sent a chill down my spine, as I turned to walk back inside like he had told me to do.

I went back behind the counter, and shut the stove off; while Forrest locked the place up. Once that was all done, we made our way outside together and climbed into the truck. The ever so familiar truck that had ripped me away from my home only yesterday. Forrest opted to drive, while I sat in the passenger seat my hands down in my lap. The drive was silent, the only noise coming from the truck's engine; and once we got into town, Forrest stayed in the truck while I got what I needed.

People shot me sympathetic glances as they walked past, and a few even stopped to say they hoped I was doing well ever since my father's passing.

It was only when I was walking back to the truck with my hands full, that Forrest got out of the truck to help me. He took the things from my arms and put them in the back of the truck before climbing back into the vehicle.

This time our drive wasn't completely quiet. Forrest surprised me by looking over and speaking to me. "Next time, let me know when we start running low on things, and I'll have someone deliver it to us." He informed me. The drive back out to Blackwater Station, was 20 miles but seemed to go by in the blink of an eye.

"Thank you for the ride, Forrest." I said, pulling the bags of groceries out of the back. They were heavy in my arms as I carried them up the porch, into the building, and back into the kitchen to be put away.

Once that was done, I started making our dinner. I also made an apple pie for afterwards. Forrest exchanged his mug of coffee, for a mason jar of moonshine; and went back to sitting on the porch.

"Forrest, dinner's done!" I called loud enough that he would be able to hear me from where I was in the kitchen. As I moved the food over to the plates, I could hear Forrest's heavy footsteps walking across the porch heading towards the front door. He brought the jar of moonshine with him as he stomped across the room and sat down at the counter.

I put his plate down in front of him, before taking a few steps back and starting to eat my own food. Though, the whole time, I kept watch of how much Forrest had eaten so that once his plate was just about empty, I gave him a piece of the pie that I had made earlier. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing the eat whatever I put in front of him. "How are you liking your first day here at Blackwater?" Forrest asked suddenly.

His sudden urge to talk shocked me, and the question that had been asked took me completely by surprise. "I, uhh, yeah it's okay. I guess." I nodded quickly, taking a sip of water to wash the food down my throat.

"Last night, Jack mentioned that you seemed a bit skittish about coming here. I know this is probably all strange to you, but you'll be alright here." Of course Jack would have told him that; from what I can tell, these boys didn't keep much from one another did they?

"I remember your father, he was a good man. If you weren't his daughter, I would have never agreed to let you come stay here." He mumbled so softly that I barely thought I had actually heard him speak at all. "Why do you say that?" I gasped out, my hands found the loose chain that hung around my neck- it had been a gift from my father.

"I know you feel like you were bought like some kind of piece of property, but I promise you that's not how things happened."My mind ran wild wondering how he could possibly know what I was thinking or even feeling right now. My body was suddenly fueled by rage. My arm shot out, my fingers grabbed the mason jar, and I threw the contents onto him. "Don't you dare act like you know what the hell I'm feeling, Bondurant!" I shouted.

As I lowered the glass jar back down onto the counter, the rage fled from my body and I was left alone with the realization of what I had just done.

"Oh my gosh, Forrest! I am so sorry I have no idea what came over me!" I gasped out. My fingers grabbed a wash cloth, and I did my best to dry Forrest off, though it wasn't really working.

Forrest held up his hand, stopping me from doing anything else to help him. "No, I've obviously upset you, so I deserved it." Reaching out, he took the rag out of my hand before removing the hat from his head, and setting it a top of the counter, next to his plate.

"No, no Forrest, you didn't. You've been nothing but kind to me. I shouldn't have done that." I started rambling, my hands fumbling over themselves down in front of me. Forrest was quick to put his hands up, silencing the apologetic mumbles as he ran the towel over his face to wipe away the droplets of moonshine. "BeccaMae, I told you, it's okay." He chuckled.

My mind stopped, no one had called me BeccaMae since I was a little girl. Not even my daddy called me that. Who was it that always called me by that name- I can't remember.

"You go on upstairs and rest, I'll clean up down here for you." Forrest ordered, a blank stare on his face. "Oh, no Forrest, I couldn't do that. You hired me to cook and clean up around here. This is my job, so let me do it." I spoke, reaching out to start cleaning up the mess of our dinner.

But he wasn't about to let that happen. His hand shot out, and gripped onto my wrist stopping me from cleaning. "BeccaMae, stop. Go upstairs and get some rest. I will handle this." He ordered again.

This time my body stopped and my mind listened. I nodded my head, and removed the apron from around my waist, laying it across the counter before moving towards the stairs to do as I had been told to do. "Really, Forrest, I am sorry." I threw another apology over my shoulder before finally ascending up the stairs.