People walked on, ignoring the young woman in the blue dress, packing up her saddle bags. Horses raced down the thoroughfare, kicking up dust. Piano music played from inside the Mariposa, the tune trickling out into the street. There was life in this place that Orlin hadn't seen since arriving in Derleth. Sure, he'd been to many worlds. Many places. But this was the first place that felt real to him. The first place that felt like home.
He didn't know why he felt that way because Sweetwater was nothing like Trill. It didn't even resemble many of the worlds he'd visited while serving in Starfleet. And it couldn't have been more different than life on board a starship. But there was something familiar about it all the same. Something that made him recognize that in a different environment—in a different lifetime—he could have lived an entirely different existence. An entirely different life.
A life where he wasn't always the side character.
A life where he was the protagonist.
A life where he could be the hero.
He stepped off the plank walkway and picked up the can. Then he tipped his hat to her.
She smiled.
An hour later he found himself straddling the saddle atop a speckled appaloosa, gazing out over a large open pasture where the cattle roamed. They were her father's cattle. She told him all about her father and their ranch. Somehow she'd convinced Orlin to help her round them up. Orlin agreed even though he had no idea what he was supposed to do. But sitting up there on that hill, the sun lowering in the distance, he felt like he could figure it out. He even convinced himself that he might be good at it. Or maybe it was just her that made him feel like he was capable of doing anything.
"You're right. Splendor is the perfect word for it."