Chapter 3
For the next 3 days Nicole and Waverly would come out bright and early and work on pulling fence posts. They would joke and it was easy. They made quick work of the fence, and enjoyed it. Nicole noted how satisfied she would feel when her bones were tired, but she was eating a sandwich across from Waverly; it felt worth it for some reason, and she knew it was more than just the satisfaction of helping someone else.
But then everything would change when Champ would come around every afternoon. Waverly turned cold, and Champ’s whining wore on both of them.
By the end of the 3rd day the three of them were silently loading up tools, ready to head back to the house when Champ slammed down a shovel on the ground.
“What is your problem Waverly?” He said aggressively, “Every day, I drive up and I see you two laughing and joking and having a great time, but once I’m here its like a funeral. What’s the joke I’m not allowed in on?”
Nicole tried to busy herself, but could feel the dread tying knots in her stomach.
“Oh, I don’t know Champ. Let me think why that is,” Waverly said, throwing scrap pieces of wood into the truck bed with a little more gusto than she probably needed, “Maybe because Nicole doesn’t complain, she makes it enjoyable to do this shit job. Maybe because we are out here every morning at daybreak, busting our asses, and you don’t show up until after noon. You work for 3 hours, bitching and moaning the whole time, while we have been going at it for twice that already that day,”
“I’m helping, what more do you want from me?” He threw his hands up in the air.
“I want more than the absolute bare minimum of effort. I want you to actually care about this as much as I do,” Waverly stopped her foot, “This isn’t playing rancher on your daddy’s farm. This is the only thing Wynona and I inherited from our father when he passed. This is real life. I need this fence, because we need to start ranching cows because we need to turn a buck. Waiting tables and what ever the fuck Wynona does aren’t cutting it,”
Champ had a look of shame on his face. He knew he was being a child about it, but he also hated being wrong, “I have other things I need to do during the day, Waverly,”
“Sleeping until noon is not ‘other things’. Its willfully avoiding helping us,” Waverly motioned for Nicole to get in the truck and hoped in, starting the engine. Knowing her only other option was hitching a ride with Champ, she scrambled to get into the old Ford before Waverly drove away.
Once a bit down the path Waverly let out a sigh, “I’m so sorry you had to witness that. I’m totally embarrassed,”
“Don’t be,” Nicole said, “Sometimes we lose our cool, and that’s ok,”
Waverly was quiet for a minute, “Want to stay and have a drink?”
Nicole’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, “Ah, yeah sure,”
They pulled up to the house and Nicole followed Waverly into the house. She watched quietly as Waverly pulled out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Waverly poured generous amounts in each glass and slide one across kitchen table to Nicole.
They heard the rumble of a truck followed by a knock on the screen door.
“Just ignore it,” Waverly said.
“Waverly! I know you’re in there!” Champ’s voice called out.
Waverly sighed, excusing herself with a hand gesture and going to the door. Nicole couldn’t hear what was being said, the conversations carried out in hushed tones, but the end result was Champ quietly leaving.
“Again, I’m so sorry about that,” Waverly said. She looked defeated.
“And again, there’s no need to apologize,” Nicole swirled the amber liquid in her glass.
Waverly plopped down at the table, “I guess I’m just embarrassed,” Waverly said.
“I get it, I really do. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Waverly drained her glass and poured another.
Nicole nodded and sipped the whiskey, “Totally understandable,”
“Tell me about your hometown,” Waverly asked.
“What do you want to know about it? Its just a small town in Indiana,”
“I don’t know,” Waverly shrugged, “Just like, what it was like growing up there and stuff,”
Nicole laughed, “Like I said, it’s a small town, only a fraction bigger than this place. The only real difference is that its flat as hell and surrounded by corn and soybeans. I mean my first job when I was thirteen was detasseling corn and walking soybeans, back then I got paid five bucks an hour, which seemed like so much at thirteen. By the summer before I left college, I was making seventeen dollars an hour as a senior team member. Not a half bad gig,”
“Holy cow,” Waverly whistled.
“Its pretty common down in the corn belt,” Nicole nodded.
“My first job was at Shorty’s. I started off as a waitress; once I was old enough I became a bartender. My uncle and aunt own it,”
“Now, waitressing makes detasseling seem like a walk the park, I can’t even imagine,”
“Its all in the smile and wave,” Waverly put on a cheese smile that can only be described as a ‘customer service smile’.
By the time they were half way through the bottle of whiskey they had moved on to the living room. They sat on the floor, propped up against front of the couch, their glasses long forgotten and the bottle of whiskey sitting in between them. Nicole’s old cowboy hat was on the coffee table and both of their sets of boots lay strewn haphazardly by the doorway.
“Senior year, my parents were out of town to go to some distant relative’s wedding and my brother and I were responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly. To this day, I cant believe my parents left a fourteen year old a seventeen year old in charge of an entire farm for three days, but they did,” Nicole paused to take a swig of the Canadian whiskey, “And so naturally, Friday night I went out with some friends. Now, I was a goody two-shoes, so I didn’t drink, but I sure did stay out pretty late. Around three in the morning, I get a text from my brother asking me if I had checked on the cows yet, because apparently he had decided to leave too. In a panic, I raced back home, and drove out into the pasture to check on them. It was pitch black and in my hurry to check on them, I forgot that it had rained that day, and got my truck stuck on the dirt path. So I got out and started walking in the direction I thought the cows were. Well, I walked right into a circle of startled heifers,”
“Oh no,” Waverly winced.
“Oh yes. So here I am, surrounded by these scared and angry cows, they are all stomping and there’s these angry sniffing sounds. I almost peed my pants right then and there. I made a break for it back to my truck; I’ve never run so fast in my life. And then, I leaped into the bed of my truck, like an Olympic high jumper or something. I very narrowly avoided getting run over that night,” Nicole nodded.
“Remember how I told you about trying barrel racing in 4-H?” Waverly asked, taking the bottle form Nicole’s hand and taking a long swig.
“Yes I do,” Nicole smiled at Waverly. She could tell by the warm fuzzy feeling in her brain that she wasn’t driving home tonight.
“Well, the reason it went so poorly is because on the first barrel, the horse I was riding, decided he didn’t want to, and just kept going straight and then threw me. I thankfully wasn’t hurt, but I never tried barrels again,”
“See, he clearly didn’t know how lucky he was to have someone as great as you on board,” Nicole said, “Whiskey threw me the first 4 times I got on her. I thought I was going to have to let her go. I got her already broken, so she knew how to let people ride her. She was 4 years old or so. And her previous owner said she had never had an issue, that this was an even-tempered horse. But the horse I got was… such a bitch. Took awhile, but we finally got a mutual respect for each other, and have been inseparable ever since,”
Waverly took another swig, “I think we are drunk,”
“I know we are,” Nicole nodded, “Can I crash here tonight?”
“Of course,” Waverly rested her hand on Nicole’s thigh. She couldn’t explain the connection she felt with the women next to her.
Nicole leaned in; there faces were inches apart. She knew she was drunk, and knew this wasn’t the best decision but it felt right. She was even more surprised when Waverly mimicked her action.
“Waverly! I’m home!” Wynonna’s voice was followed by crashing and the sound of heavy boots on the old hard wood floor.
Waverly jumped up, suddenly embarrassed by what she was about to do. Nicole scrambled to her feet.
“I have come to drop off your sister,” A man wearing a hat with a thick mustache said as they both came into view, Wynonna draped over him.
“Oh, I see you have a friend here, I wont bother you,” Wynonna said loudly.
Waverly ran over and looped and arm under Wynonna’s shoulder, taking some of the weight off of the man.
“Thank you so much, I’ll take her up stairs,” Waverly said.
Waverly guided her sister upstairs and Nicole awkwardly shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans.
The man with the bushy mustache looked in her direction, taking off his hat, “where are my manors, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m John Holiday, but you can call me Doc,” He offered Nicole a hand.
She took it, noting the firm shake, “I’m Nicole Haught,”
“The girl helping with the fence?”
“Guilty as changed,” Nicole smiled.
“Well, welcome to Purgatory. I’ve heard around town that you are some team roping prodigy,”
Nicole could feel herself blush, “I mean, I put in work. I want to be the best at what I do,”
Waverly came back down the stairs, “She passed out as soon as she hit the pillow,” She hugged Doc, “Thank you for bringing her back,”
“As always Ms. Waverly,” He smiled curtly, “Well, I best be going, I don’t want to intrude any further on your evening,”
“Drive home safe,” Waverly said as Doc donned his hat, with a nod he left.
“Is she ok?” Nicole motioned towards the ceiling.
“Yeah, she’s good. This isn’t that uncommon of a thing,” Waverly ran her hand through her hair, “Let me go find you some blankets and we can get you set up on the couch,”
“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Nicole said.
Waverly held Nicole’s Elbow, “Hey, there’s no question in letting you stay. Come on, let’s find you some blankets,”
Nicole followed Waverly upstairs to a hall closet. Waverly began rooting around in various linens, until she produced a blanket and two pillows, “I don’t have any pajamas that are going to fit you, but Wynonna might, she wont mind,” Waverly offered.
“I think I’ll be ok in this, but thank you,” Nicole followed Waverly back down stairs and Waverly made up the couch into a make shift bed.
“So, is this place really haunted?” Nicole asked tentatively.
Waverly laughed, “Wynonna sure thinks so. I’m not very superstitious. I guess you’ll have to figure it out for yourself,”
Nicole screwed her face up, “Waverly, you might need to work on your hospitality,”
This earned Nicole another chuckle for the short brunette, “Maybe you’re right,”
Nicole shifted awkwardly on her feet, the night felt over, but she sure didn’t want it to be.
Waverly looked down at the rug, “Well, good night Nicole,”
“Good night Waverly,” Nicole put her hands in her back pockets as she watched Waverly walk half way up the stairs, “And Waverly, thanks again,”
Waverly stopped and looked over her shoulder at the red head standing in her living room; she couldn’t help but smile, “Good Night,”