Posted April 4, 2020
Harriet took her time washing up. While she was at it, she did her best to rinse her trail-weary clothing and laying them out to dry. She then changed into a clean split riding skirt, blouse, and vest. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do with her hair except tie it back with a ribbon borrowed from the lady-of-the-house. Feeling as presentable as possible, Harriet admonished herself for the slight fluttering of her heart at the thought of Quentin and how terrified she had been for his safety. Of course, they had hugged and held one another for a moment after what had happened. It did not mean that he had feelings for her...or her for him. Still, her spirits lifted at knowing she would see him in a few moments.
Once downstairs, she went to the home's well-kept little parlor to wait on Quentin. Harriet was capable of finding the mess on her own, she was just waiting for him to help her thread the maze of military protocols...at least that was what she was going to tell herself.
Quentin stood in front of the mirror mounted on the dresser in the small bedroom. He finished combing his hair back with some product he found on the dresser. He could use a haircut but if he tried to give himself one the result would probably be laughable. He set the comb down and looked at himself in the mirror. He had also enjoyed a bath and the shave did more than anything else to make him feel human again after the time on the trail. He stepped back a bit and smoothed out the black bibbed shirt. He nodded and looked down at the clean pants he had found in his gear. Quentin was also proud that he had managed to clean the trail dirt off his boots and even accomplished a reasonable shine with some time and polish. His hat was a lost cause and would have to serve only in the field until he could get back and buy a new one.
Quentin put everything away and back into his saddle bags and then buckled on his gunbelt. He tied the holster to his right thigh and left his hideout Colt with his gear. Quentin then headed downstairs and set his personal gear beside Harriet's before he stepped into the parlor and came up short. "Oh, I apologize...I was looking for my trail partner, not a lovely lady..."
Harriet blinked at Quentin for a second before realizing that he was teasing and complimenting her in the same breath. No wonder Regina had often talked about how charming her brother could be. It was not a side of him that Harriet had seen much of as they tended to rub one another the wrong way. The smile she offered in return actually reached and warmed her twilight-colored eyes, "Why, thank you, Quentin. You are a bit unexpected as well." She moved closer to him and her voice was a bit husky when she spoke, "Now that we do not have an audience," Harriet touched his arm gently, "I am very glad you were not shot. I was frightened for you." There! She had admitted it. Being forthright was one of her hallmarks.
Quentin heard her words as he watched her face change from her smile. He reached a hand up and lightly cradled the side of her face and her neck. "I really did not care what happened to me as long as I knew it meant you were safe..." He leaned over and very lightly kissed her and let it linger across several heartbeats before he leaned back. "...Um...I guess we should get to dinner..." He straightened and offered his arm to Harriet. "Shall we?"
Her heart danced in her chest as Quentin's lips met hers and she felt her eyes glisten. Harriet had never expected this...this feeling. It was new and unknown and heady. She smiled at him and took his arm, leaning into his side and squeezing his arm gently where her hand rested on it, "We shall." Her gray eyes flew up to meet his dark ones. She wanted to voice how she was feeling, but they could not keep Colonel MacKenzie waiting. There would be time to talk later...