Big Bad Wolf

The swaying of the boat stirred Ben from a dream. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and stumbled to his feet. He moved through the large cabin quietly, following the light coming in under the door. On the deck he saw a storm raging. The ocean, a frothing, inky black. The captain had mentioned they'd arrive in St Denis by morning, but he had no idea what time it was. It looked like the sun might be just about to rise but the storm made it hard to tell.

"You ought to be more careful out here all alone." Came a voice, just as he was pitched into the railing. He rubbed at his hips and turned to face Clarissa.

"And you shouldn't be out here, at this hour, at all."

"Well then, seems the only solution is for you to come back to bed with me, isn't it?" Clarissa smiled, extending her hand. Ben took it and led them back down to the crowded cabin below. Clarissa rested her head on his chest and the two fell right back asleep.

Horns woke them, what felt like, only minutes later.

"I think we've arrived, my love." Ben said softly. Clarissa sat up and fussed with her curls.

"Let's make sure we have all our stuff then." She moved swiftly around the cabin, gathering their meager belongings and digging out their identification. Disembarking took nearly two hours but they finally found themselves inside a shoddy, old saloon, in what was believed to be the most exciting city of the decade.

"You know, I thought it would smell more like French perfume and less like horse shit." Clarissa mused over her whiskey.

"Horses have to pull all that fancy perfume, don't they?"

"I suppose you're right."

"Clarissa, won't you consider staying with me. Now that we are here. I can help you-"

"Oh Ben, please." She cut him off, "I can't bare it right now. You know I have to go. I have to do this alone. The last way I'm going to gain my boys favor is to turn up with some new man."

"We don't know this new world, Clarissa, I just want to keep you safe."

"No. You don't know this new world. I grew up here. I've known these roads all my life. My time in England didn't change that." She sighed and finished her drink in one swig.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"I know you just want to help, but I have to do this alone. I have to find my boys, men now I suppose. The road to forgiveness is seldom a pretty one for the person seeking it, but it's a road I have to take."

Ben rubbed her shoulders gently, "I don't know all that much about forgiveness, Clar, neither giving it nor receiving it, but I know this. If you are willing to work this hard, travel this far, after this long. You must really want it."

"More than anything in the world."

"Then those boys are lucky to call you mother. However, if they don't see it that way and you need somewhere to go, you know where I'll be staying. You are welcome."

Clarissa smiled, kissed his cheek and gathered her bags. She walked out the saloon just as the train whistle could be heard in the distance. Ben watched her walk away, with an inexplicable pain in his chest. He'd only known her for the four weeks they'd been on the boat, but it felt like she'd taken a piece of him with her. Like his world would never be the same.

"Uncle Ben? Is that you?" He spun around in his chair, almost losing his balance.

"Charlotte. My sweet girl!" He stood to embrace the tiny woman. No longer the baby he met all those years ago.

"I'm so glad you arrived safely; I heard the storm last night. I was worried sick."
"Oh, it'll take more than that to slow me down, Darlin'."

"Come on! I have my horse just outside, and the house isn't too far. I have someone very special I'd like you to meet."

Ben followed her through the now crowded saloon, out to a big white Andalusian. He stood watching her load up his bags, he couldn't believe the woman his little niece had become.

"Ben, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes of course. I just can't believe how grown up you are."

"Years will do that." She laughed.

Charlotte's home was larger than he expected. He wondered briefly if she had married some rich fool, but he took in her horse and her guns and had a feeling she fought tooth and nail for everything she had. Just like her father. He hadn't seen her since she was just a few months old. His brother, her father had left England soon after she was born. He couldn't bear to be where the memory of his wife was everywhere. She'd written when he'd passed. She was only sixteen. They kept in touch throughout the years.

"This is a lovely home Charlotte. I am so grateful for your hospitality. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can."

"There is no rush! I'm so glad to meet you, properly." She wiped a tear from her eye, "You look so much like father."

"So I've been told. Though the ladies always found him much more handsome."

Charlotte snorted, "He always had a way, didn't he?"

The door opened, suddenly, next to Ben. A tall red headed woman walked in. Two rifles slung over her shoulders. Ben was taken aback, he reached for Charlotte and pulled her behind his large frame. The woman before them looked confused, and then laughed.

"You must be Uncle Ben. I'm Heather." She extended her hand and he shook it, before turning to Charlotte. She was flushed.

"Ben, this is Heather. She's, well, we're together."

Ben coughed awkwardly, "Oh, I had no idea, that you- well. I am honored to meet you Heather. I hope you have been taking care of my girl here?"

Heather grinned and poured him some whiskey, "She does not make it easy, Sir."

The three sat around the kitchen table catching up. The years melted into nothing but a few hours and more than a few bottles.

"Well Ben, let me show you to your room. It's not much, but it's warm and dry." Charlotte said standing slightly off balance, to lead him to the small, back bedroom. She handed him a blanket and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight. Breakfast is bright and early around here, okay?"

"Got it. Good night sweetheart."

Ben awoke in the pitch black. He had dreamed, unsurprisingly, of Clarissa. He rubbed at his throbbing temples and decided to go in search of some water. He stumbled groggily into the kitchen, only to trip over a... dog. The beast yelped and jumped to its feet. Only then, did Ben realize the magnitude of the thing. It was no dog. It was a massive grey wolf, an angry one at that. It loomed over him menacingly as he desperately looked around for a weapon. When he couldn't find anything, he covered his face with his arms, and hoped against all hope the girls wouldn't run into the kitchen unaware of the wolf.

He waited but nothing happened.

He peeked through his arms to see the wolf sat at his feet. It looked relaxed. At the sight of his eyes it came over and started licking at his arms and face. He couldn't wrap his half-drunk mind around what was happening. Eventually Charlotte came to investigate the noise. Upon seeing Ben on the floor, being licked by the wolf she burst out laughing.

"Oh, Ben. I am so sorry. The whiskey got away from us. This is Seras. She is Heather's and she is harmless. Mostly." She pulled Seras off of Ben and let him gather his footing. Ben finally poured the water he'd been looking for and took a sip while counting his limbs.

"You're in love with a gunslinging woman who has a pet wolf." He gestured towards Seras, "Having known your father, I should have expected no less. But please, do warn an old man about hell hounds in the future."

"You're far from old, Ben, and she is no hell hound." Charlotte laughed and turned back to her bedroom, wolf in tow.