“Psst.”
Nicole groaned and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, ignoring the teenager who was half-heartedly trying to rouse her from sleep; unwilling to face the day.
“Dude. Wake up.”
Another groan, followed by a subtle shift in the reclining chair that sent bolts of pain through her left leg. Nicole soon felt a finger prod her good leg, the pressure increasing slightly every half second.
“Please. I need to tell you something.”
Despite the pleas and prodding, Nicole couldn’t find it in herself to fully acknowledge Rachel. Maybe it was the incessant pain in her leg that worsened with the slightest movement. Maybe it was the remnants of the expired painkillers she’d found in Wynonna’s medicine cabinet flowing through her veins. Or maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t seen or heard from her family in 5 weeks, 2 days, and 17 hours.
“Fine. I did something and you may or may not be pissed at me.”
The possibility of feeling another negative emotion gave Nicole the push she needed. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at her new foster teen. “What is it?” she asked, her voice thick with the sadness she hadn’t been able to shake since they had retreated to the empty Homestead.
Rachel looked at Nicole with pity, then fear, and swallowed hard. “Okay. So I may or may not have been reading Waverly’s diary and I got to a part about you having a secret wife and since we don’t know each other very well and everyone else in town who you do know is either gone or wants to kill you I called…well, her.” The confession flew out of Rachel’s mouth so fast that she was red in the face and out of breath by the time she finished.
“You did what now?” Nicole asked, certain that she hadn’t heard what she in fact had just heard.
“She called me,” a voice chimed in from behind Nicole.
“Shae.” Nicole mumbled, her eyes following her ex-wife as she moved across the living room to stand beside Rachel.
“In the flesh,” Shae affirmed.
Nicole’s gaze shifted from Shae to Rachel. The teenager took a defensive step back when Nicole’s eye fell upon her, and Shae stepped forward in solidarity.
“Nic, she was worried about you,” Shae explained, her voice soft and even. The nickname Shae had used for her felt so unfamiliar now, a reference to a woman who no longer truly existed. Rachel, relieved to have some assistance, recovered the distance she had made between herself and Nicole just a few seconds earlier.
“Yeah. All you do is fortify the house. Set traps around the property. You cook me meals that you don’t eat yourself. You hobble around on that leg that will so not heal correctly if you keep it up. When you’re not taking care of me, or the house, or shooting at trespassers you’re just…here. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Nicole felt a pang of guilt for subjecting Rachel to what she’d become.
“Plus, I can hear you crying at night,” Rachel mumbled before she could stop herself.
Purgatory’s Prodigal Sheriff swallowed, her cheeks hot with tempered anger, embarrassment, and…gratitude. She pursed her lips, searching for something, anything, to say that would make this moment end. She couldn’t. It didn’t. Finally, Nicole sighed. “Okay, Rachel. Message received loud and clear.”
Rachel stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked at the two older women before her. “Great. Soo…I’m gonna go into Wynonna’s room and close the door.” And with that, she scurried up the stairs and into Wynonna’s bedroom. The moment Nicole heard the door close, she allowed herself to look at Shae. To really look at her. And god, did it feel good, or as close to good as she could feel.
Shae stood still, allowing Nicole to process the situation. It was the second time in a matter of years that she’d run to Nicole’s side when someone else called for her – but she couldn’t help herself. Love like theirs didn’t just go away. The romance flamed and fizzled fast, but the commitment they’d made to each other – that was something that wouldn’t just go away.
“Is Claire okay with you being here?” Nicole finally asked, doing her best to steer the topic of conversation away from herself.
“Yeah,” Shae chuckled. She knew all of Nicole’s tricks. “She understands. When she heard the voicemail that kid left for me, about you, she practically packed my bag for me.”
Nicole tilted her head back, as though looking upstairs. She hadn’t realized that Rachel had cared that much. Or been nosy enough to read Waverly’s private thoughts…but that was a discussion for another day. “It’s not that bad. I’m okay,” Nicole insisted.
“Rachel told me that you’ve been taking Wynonna’s painkillers. Not only is that a criminal offense but it’s just plain irresponsible,” Shae argued, winking at Nicole to lessen the blow. “The Nicole I knew wouldn’t dare take someone else’s prescription.”
“Yeah, well. The Nicole you knew isn’t here anymore.”
“I’m looking right at her.”
Nicole’s chest tightened. There was something so inexplicably painful about being seen in moments of weakness. There was something so damning about being told you’re good, when bad has become the marrow in your bones. A lump formed in the back of her throat, and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Shae watched as Nicole tried to negotiate with what she had just heard, and how she felt. She let a few seconds pass, but as Nicole’s eyes grew glassier, Shae knew what Nicole needed – even if she didn’t want it. Shae approached her frozen ex-wife and knelt down, taking Nicole’s hand into her own.
“I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t know what happened to you, but I know that you need help.”
Nicole squeezed her eyes shut to prevent her tears from fully forming. “I don’t think I could even begin to explain,” she finally replied, relaxing her hand from within Shae’s gentle grip.
“Does it have to do with your past, Nic? Were the Earps taken?”
“No. They left. They lied to me, and they left.” Nicole inhaled deeply, trying to keep the emotional dam she had been meticulously constructing for weeks from bursting.
“And they didn’t want you to come with them?” Shae asked, trying to understand.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t follow them because of this stupid fucking leg. Because I made a promise. I promised I’d meet them back here. Home. They were supposed to come home to me.”
Shae had heard all that she needed to – for now anyway. “Okay, Nic. It’s okay,” she whispered, standing back up. “Come into the kitchen with me, yeah? If you’re going to be taking narcotics, you’d best not do it on an empty stomach.”
The night before Shae’s father’s funeral, she and Nicole laid in bed together crying, kissing, and downing several bottles of wine. The afternoon Nicole told Shae the fragmented details of her past, they sat on the floor of Nicole’s apartment eating gluten-free pizza and sampling IPAs. The day that Shae and Nicole decided to separate for good, they sat on their couch together crying, kissing, and passing a bottle of Jack Honey back and forth. For the two of them, the big conversations needed an alcoholic buffer. They had joked that this was a major factor in why they could never make it as a couple, but the ritual was a comfort now.
After dinner, Shae had pulled a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet and poured herself a shot. It only took a few seconds of looking into Nicole’s wanton eyes for Shae’s resolve to dissolve, and she found herself pouring Nicole a shot too. “Just one,” she said – acknowledging that Nicole had taken an oxycontin at some point before her arrival. Nicole nodded, and they both lifted their shot glasses. Their eyes met. They knew what this meant. If they took these shots together, there was no turning back.
They nodded in unison and threw the dark liquor back.
Shae helped Nicole activate the motion detectors around the Homestead and turn on the surveillance cameras. Only after these tasks were complete, would Nicole allow herself to truly relax. Once the Homestead was secure, Shae guided Nicole to the couch with the whiskey bottle in hand. Shae sat on the far side of the couch, leaning against the arm while Nicole took the other end of the sofa. The bottle of whiskey sat proudly between them on the middle cushion. The two women sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what to do with the solitude. They no longer had the sun to keep them company. The hours they’d spent together that day had melted any distance-related tension. Rachel was fast sleep with Calamity Jane in her arms.
It was just them, their history, and the pain bubbling up from beneath Nicole’s cool exterior. Shae made the first move and reached for the bottle, taking a short pull and wincing as she swallowed. “Nicole. Enough is enough. You have to let it out. Whatever is going on. Whatever the Earps did to you. Whatever it is that you’re so scared of out there. It’s not healthy to keep all of that inside. I know you’re strong. You don’t have to prove that to me, or Rachel, or Waverly. We all know who you are. This pain that you’re holding, you’re holding it for yourself and you don’t have to do that.”
Nicole remained silent but reached for the bottle.
Maybe what Shae was saying was true, but what if it wasn’t? What if Rachel only stayed because she thought Nicole could protect her? What if Wynonna only trusted her because she could endure? What if Waverly had only loved her for staying? What if Doc only cared for her because the Earps did? What if Nedley only supported her because Chrissy would never want to follow in his footsteps? Maybe Purgatory only loved Nicole for what she could do for it. The thoughts flooded Nicole’s consciousness, and before she knew it, Shae was gently pulling the whiskey bottle from Nicole’s lips.
“That’s enough,” Shae said, capping the whiskey and looking into Nicole’s eyes. Amber liquid coated Nicole’s uncharacteristically chapped lips, and Shae reached up, wiping away the excess with the pad of her thumb. Nicole stared at her, the tenderness pulling those long-suppressed tears back into her eyes. “You were unconscious when I was with you last, but I saw how Waverly was with you. That was love. That was real. That was for you.”
Nicole shook her head. “They all lied to me; you know. Knocked me out. Made me powerless. I couldn’t stop them from leaving. And now – they might not come back.”
“If you believed that, Nic, why would you still be here? Why would you still be protecting their home?”
“I made a promise,” Nicole explained in a half-slur, the liquor making its way into her bloodstream. “Protect and serve. That’s what I do.”
There was no way around it. Shae felt pity for Nicole. The kind that makes you desperate to make someone see themselves for what they truly are. “You are so much more than that,” Shae countered, her tone harder than she intended. The edge in Shae’s voice caught Nicole off-guard, and she looked down, her lip trembling with all the words left unsaid. The feelings left unfelt. “Look at me.”
Nicole obeyed. Their eyes locked. Shae shifted on the couch to fully face Nicole, opening herself up to her ex-wife. “Nicole Haught. Do you remember when you fell from 20-feet in the air, only to ask me if I was okay while the EMTs carried you away? Or the time you inexplicably adopted a teenage girl whom you cook for without even giving yourself the luxury of bathing regularly – by the looks of it?” Shae looked Nicole up and down and grinned. Even unkept, she was beautiful. “You love without expectation…but it’s okay to expect it back, sometimes. You deserve that much. You feel like Waverly and Wynonna left you. You can feel that – but know that I saw the way that woman loves you, and she will be back.”
Something about Shae’s words split Nicole in half. The weeks she’d spent pretending that she was okay with being left alone on the Homestead. The weeks she’d spent pretending that she wasn’t wrestling with resenting the Earps for their lies, while also missing them with every fiber of her being. The utter devastation of losing her blood family, only to lose her real family years later. It was too much to carry, especially with one bum leg. A sob wracked Nicole’s entire body. Her shoulders lurched forward, and she wrapped her arms around herself in attempt to keep her insides from spilling out. Shae reacted in turn, grabbing Nicole’s trembling body and pulling her into her arms.
Shae held Nicole tightly as she cried until finally, the redhead relaxed into Shae’s chest and allowed her breathing to even out. “It’s okay to fall apart, Nic.” Nicole cried more softly now, the worst of it spilled out all over Shae’s now soaking wet shirt. “It’s doesn’t mean you’re not worthy, or that you’re not strong enough to keep your promises. To deserve love. To protect that girl upstairs.”
Nicole sniffled, too weak to deflect Shae’s insight. Instead, they looked at each other for a long time. Shae, looking down into Nicole’s puppy dog eyes. Nicole, flush against Shae’s chest, looking up into the chocolate hues she used to get lost in. “You have to feel it,” Shae continued, leaning down to kiss Nicole’s forehead. “Even if it’s just one day. You have to let yourself feel it.” Nicole nodded, leaning into Shae’s embrace. There was no use in ignoring those feelings or rejecting the notion that they could all exist within her at once. She could love Waverly and hate the way she’d been lied to. She could love Wynonna and resent being manipulated. She could want to spend the rest of her life with those two pains in the ass, while also wanting to strangle them. There was no sense in pretending to be strong when she felt anything but. So, she would cry. She would wail. She would show herself to the woman who could already see it.
“Okay,” Nicole mumbled, tears still rolling down her cheeks, “Just tonight.”