Tired and Sore

Mick tossed Rosetta a wink as he returned her smile. He knew she'd read his face, and he'd express his concerns to her later when they were alone. He wouldn't voice them now - especially when Angel was enjoying her brother as much as she was...

...As soon as it felt appropriate, Lane said his goodnights. It might have seemed just a little early, but he was tired, and though he wouldn't admit it, he was overwhelmed and just needed some quiet. Going to bed early was the best excuse, with the promise he'd see everyone tomorrow, and help out in the barns...

...Everyone else was in bed. At least Lane assumed so, since it was after midnight and no lights were on. Despite being exhausted though, his mind was wide awake - and had been since he'd left the group earlier. He slowly wandered out past the barns, his eyes roaming the dark surroundings. This place really had changed and grown. It wasn't the same ranch he remembered.

Reaching the back gate, he unlatched it and let himself into the pasture. Once he went a short distance, he stopped to stare up at the starlit sky. Thousands upon thousands of stars could be seen tonight. And normally, he'd enjoy it. Normally he'd take it all in with wonder and imagine how he could capture such a scene. But not tonight. It was uncertain how long he'd stood, before the weight came crashing down on him.

Falling to his knees he hung his head, closing his eyes shut tight. The people here...his sister...everyone... How could he follow through with this? How could he destroy such goodness, peace and kindness? He couldn't. But he had to. He had no choice. But it was already destroying his soul.


Jared didn't look at Grace as she spoke. He heard her alright though, and it stung. But he refused to respond, and instead he just stayed where he was to wallow in his misery. His wet, painful misery.

Eventually, long after Grace was gone, he made it to his feet and to the door, where Lydia finally came to help. He didn't talk to her about what happened, but simply let her help him into some dry clothes and into bed where he spent the rest of the day, refusing supper.

The following day, Lydia couldn't get him out of bed. It wasn't that he wasn't able - although he was mighty sore from the previous day - but he simply refused. By the time Grace was to come in the afternoon, he still hadn't even eaten anything. 

Tired and sore, he lay stretched out on top of his bed, propped up with pillows. Eyes closed, he listened to music through his headphones in an attempt to drown out the world.


"A band? Sweet!" Levi's eyes lit up. "You serious about wanting the job? I mean, really?" It seemed too good to be true. "I was half-kidding, but we could definitely use some organizing around here."

He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets as he grew at ease. "We were just ready to throw a help-wanted sign in the window. It's not like we don't wanna be more organized or can't - we've just been so busy that it's been a nightmare keeping everything straight."

Keith talked on the phone while listening with one ear to his son's conversation, and waved at him but failed to get his attention.

Levi nodded to his own desk. "We offer advertising services. I do a lot of graphic designing, and we make connections for folks for like, say, business cards or brochures, or connect their businesses to newspapers or radio to help boost awareness. We do all the designing and footwork so the businesses don't have to. And...business is booming at the moment, so...it would be awesome to have someone to help clean things up and maybe handle the phones and stuff."

Keith waved again, a little more frantically, but Levi still didn't see him.

"I can't quote you what we can pay since we hadn't yet decided on the details, but I can definitely say we'd love to have someone here three days a week to start out. And we'd train you, of course. How about tomorrow?"

Realizing he was going very fast, Levi halted his thoughts and his mouth as he bit his lip. "Unless, of course, you're already working another job and need time or something. Or maybe three days a week won't even work for you." He stopped again as his brain took off once more. "I know - can you do lunch tomorrow? We can talk details then."

Over at his own desk, Keith threw up his hands while maintaining his phone conversation. Intervening now was pointless.