Oregonal Sin

Once upon a time, in the time before the flood, and Noah had had a shed she used on the outskirts of town, for when she didn't want to or feel like going back all the way to the ranch. Then again, once upon a fucking time, Charlie had been alive for them to share the shed.

She hadn't felt like building another one, and ever since the flood, whenever she needed somewhere to sleep, she managed to make her way over to her father's. Ever since the flood, the amount of evenings she spent in the saloon, evenings that became nights that found her too drunk to ride back, had multiplied, and she very often ended up at Benjamin's.

Most of these nights, she curled up on a couch downstairs, or sometimes passed out on the floor in front of the fireplace. But sometimes, she managed to climb up the stairs and crawled into bed with her father. She was always thankful, in the morning, when he acted as if it had not happened. As if he had not held her through the night. As if she were not that lonely, not that needy.

That night was one of those nights. Through the fog in her brain, she paused on the threshold of Benjamin's bedroom, because there was already somebody else in his bed. The two men were asleep, in each other's arms. It took her a few long seconds before the realization fully hit - or as fully as it could after quite that much whisky - and she turned around and went back down the stairs. She went and found one of Benjamin's bottles of good whisky, and brought it back with her to the armchair beside the fireplace. She sat there and drank it until she passed out, cradling the half empty bottle against her through the night.