Work Text:
I.
It was never Dirk she loved, and he knew that. He could tell when he would talk to her after she played her songs at Cappy’s, not that she didn’t like him, but that she didn’t love him. Her eyes didn’t light up, and she didn’t always have the hint of a smile in every conversation that would burst into laughter at every joke.
It was never him she loved, but he could tell who she did love because when he would walk into Cappy’s, he would see her with another person over all the glaring eyes of the drunk white men who would whisper slurs around him. He saw her eyes wide and sparkling in the dim light, and he saw a smile that just wouldn’t leave her face.
It was never him she loved, but his sister.
II.
Frances knew that he loved her, and while she tried to reciprocate that love, she only remembered she couldn’t when his sister strolled into the saloon. God, how she wanted to silence the drunk white men so they wouldn’t say such awful things about her. She wanted the room to be quiet, so she could be alone with her. So she could really tell her how she felt.
But a woman with a woman? A white woman with a black woman? It would never happen. Not here. Not now.
They would run away. They planned it, even with Dirk to run away to the north. He would find a better job, and they could live together without the poisonous words and poisonous glares.
So they had hoped.
III.
Sheriff Meryl Humber knew something was going on with her daughter. She would go out early, come back late, and the men that his friends would introduce her to would be dismissed.
And when he saw that man, Dirk Valentine, talking to her, laughing with her, he knew what was wrong.
IV.
They didn’t have the money for Chicago. His wages, her wages, her tips, nothing would be enough for a place in the city. Dirk promised a way to get more, to get more fast, and they didn’t think twice.
But when he broke into the bank that night, he didn’t see the sheriff following him in.
V.
He was her friend. He was her lover’s sister. And her father took him and killed him without telling her. But, God, she saw him. She had gone into town, and she had watched him dangling there. She saw his dead body.
He killed him for stealing, so she’d steal from the man who killed him, not paying attention to the unopened envelopes in the trunk.
VI.
While the other woman cried on the train, Frances consoled her. The other people on the train eyed her, wondering a white woman would be in their car, and why she would be with someone.
If they didn’t accept her, she didn’t care. She was safe. Away from the town. Away from that man that killed her friend.
She was never going to see that vile man again.