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The vast plains of New Mexico offer a peaceful quiet to the spring morning as the sun begins to rise and peak outwards from behind the surrounding mountains and cliff sides. The sound of wooden logs and sticks crackling beneath the pressure of a freshly lit fire along with hushed cooing is what pulls you from your much needed slumber. Unlike how you had fallen asleep the previous night, your head is no longer resting upon the chest of your lover. Instead, you can feel the unmistakable, thick leather of a saddle covered by a bed roll blanket now taking the role as somewhat of a pillow, though it undeniably lacks the feather filled plushness that a real pillow possesses.
You decide to not yet lift your head from the makeshift pillow. Rather, you slowly blink your heavy eyes open, squinting against the sudden brightness of the sun, and look across from you. Sitting on the opposite side of the small campfire between the two of you, Billy is wide awake with his back leaned against a wide rock and his legs outstretched in front of him. Observing the familiar bit of darkness beneath his eyes that you can see even beneath the shadow caused by the rim of his top hat that sits perched on his head, it is no secret that he had very likely only gotten one hour of sleep in the night at most, something that was all too common for him. Even more so now that the two of you had Maybelle. He preferred to be awake with his revolver in hand or his Winchester rifle in his lap and his trained eyes constantly scanning the surrounding area than he did to be asleep, the safety of you and your daughter together is something far more important to him, something he refuses to take any possible risks on.
Glancing down at his lap, you find the toddler settled upon the dust covered trouser leg of his upper thigh, no longer sleeping but instead reaching up toward her father with repeated bats of her hands. Her little cotton dress is slightly rumpled from sleep, having fallen asleep right beside your head on his chest the previous night. Billy has one hand spread out across her lower back, keeping her safe in place while his other brushes some stray wisps of hair out of her face. Your lips curve up into a small, content smile as you watch them together, not yet wanting to interrupt their moment. “Are you wantin’ to steal my hat again, little miss May?” Billy asks in question to her persistent reaching, his tone light and veiled with a specific kind of softness that he reserves for you and Maybelle alone, though he already knows the answer to his question by now.
Her love of stealing his hat had become apparent when she was still a mere newborn. There had been multiple nights in the early days when the one thing that seemed to calm her down from a fuss was being placed inside of his top hat to sleep or to be carried around in it by Billy. Though one could hardly call it stealing when her father hands the thing over to her without even an ounce of hesitation. Now, with her being older, she has extended her reach to wanting to wear it for herself too. Billy lets out a familiar, high pitched laugh when her blue eyes widen with excitement at the mere sound of the word “hat” coming from his mouth. “Here you go then.” Billy sighs in faux defeat and reaches up, taking his well known top hat from his head and placing it on her much smaller one instead.
Immediately upon the large top hat being placed upon her head, Maybelle releases a high pitched squeal of uncontrollable happiness, unbothered by the fact that it almost instantly begins to fall down her face and block her vision. Billy tilts his head back against the rock with another laugh, his wide smile revealing his two squint teeth in the front. With his top hat now stolen from him, the sun shines against his sandy blonde hair, highlighting the slight curls at the nape of his neck. “Well, I reckon you have got to be the cutest little cowgirl these borin’ old plains have ever seen, May.” Billy grins, using a single slim finger to tilt the rim of his top hat up and holding it in place so that her shadowed face is fully visible. Smiling up at him, Maybelle babbles unintelligible words in response, nestling herself further into the warmth of his chest as he tightens his hold around her.
You watch as his tired eyes soften. Billy tilts his head to look down at her, using the same finger that had pulled the trigger of a smoking Colt revolver many times before to now stroke the smooth skin of his toddlers cheek. “That hat is far too big for her, William.” You point out with a quiet laugh, propping your chin up on the back of your hand as you observe them. At the sudden sound of your voice, Billy snaps his head up toward you in surprise before relaxing, not quite flinching after years of being prepared for surprises on the run. “Good morning to you too, darlin’.” He says softly, sparing a glance down at Maybelle who is now relentlessly chewing on the buttons of his vest while his top hat makes a slow descent down her tiny face before looking back at you. “Too big for her? You gotta be seein’ things, it fits her perfect.” Billy grins with a small tilt of his head, his voice slipping into an attempt at feigned, lighthearted cluelessness.
You shake your head with a smile and sit up against the thick wooden log laid across the ground behind your own back, sighing as you brush some hair back out of your face. “Did you sleep okay, darlin’? Tried to keep May here quiet so that you could sleep some more but I reckon she was startin’ to get hungry.” Billy bounces his leg beneath her when she begins to turn herself around in his hold at the sound of your voice.
Your heart clenches in your chest at the attentive concern audible in his voice and visible painted across his sun kissed face. “I slept wonderfully, Billy.” You say softly, watching as he hesitates for a moment, his lips parting. “I promise you. It was the best sleep I could have out here.” You look into his eyes as you promise him, the connection between your gazes alone sharing a silent, deep understanding of one another that needs no vocalisation to be heard and known.
He nods, accepting your response. “Now, bring Maybelle over here, she probably wants her breakfast by now.” Billy stands up from his spot on the dusty ground and carefully situates Maybelle on his hip, right above his worn leather holster, before rounding the campfire and lowering himself to sit right beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush together. “Over to your mama you go now, little cowgirl.” After handing Maybelle over to you, Billy outstretches his arm and wraps it around your back, subconsciously stroking the warm skin of your upper arm as the two of you look down at Maybelle. She coos in your hold, smacking her lips and looking up at you through the dark shadow cast across her face by the wide rim of the top hat that still sits perched in a crooked position atop her delicate head. He watches as you use one hand to unbutton your dress blouse and push it to the side, lowering your under chemise and guiding Maybelle in toward your breast for her breakfast.
Billy watches you feed your daughter in a comfortable silence. His eyes are soft with an unhidden and unashamed look of the purest form of devout worship, the awe of seeing you as a mother, a mother to his child nonetheless, still being as strong as the very first day he ever experienced it. “You look so beautiful like this.” He murmurs, letting his head fall to rest his cheek on the top of your head and planting a lingering kiss on your hair when you lean into his side. “Shoot, who am I kiddin’? You always look beautiful, darlin’. Much too beautiful for me, little miss is lucky she took after her mama rather than me.” You snort, shaking your head and re-positioning Maybelle against your chest as she continues to feed. “Is that some kind of sarcasm coming from you, mr Bonney? She looks exactly like you, especially with this awful hat on.” You tap on the wide rim of the top hat with your pointer finger to emphasise your point.
Billy laughs, his own hand coming down to carefully straighten the crooked top hat atop her head, Maybelle offering no more than an occupied hum of disinterest against you as he does so. “You oughta know that there hat cost me a pretty penny when we were back in Lincoln, darlin’, and I ain’t even the one wearin’ it most of the time no more.” He defends, his wide, playful grin audible in his voice. “Little miss cowgirl here stole it from me right quick. I reckon she takes after me there. She’s taken to the thing more than I ever did for some reason, suits her better than it ever did me anyhow.” You smile softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “She takes after you almost everywhere, Billy. I think she got my eyebrows and that is about it-” you laugh, knowing that the striking matches between their faces and traits would be crystal clear to even a blind man. “-and she likes the awful hat because it smells like you, you wear it so often around her too. She knows it belongs to her father, so she wants it.” You explain, watching him raise an eyebrow at you. “Are you sayin’ I stink, darlin’?” Billy drawls lowly with feigned offence, attempting to hide the bubbling laughter that is slowly creeping up from deep within his chest.
Unable to stop yourself, you throw your head back against his shoulder with a laugh of your own. “You absolutely stink, Billy! You have not washed your hair properly in a week now, you are really letting yourself go.” You tease. “You still love me though, don’t you? Despite my newly acquired smell and all?” Billy asks, leaning his face down close to your own and pouting his lower lip outwards by the smallest amount, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Of course I do, William.” You sigh playfully, your face softening as his blue eyes look into your own, his coffee tinted breath warming your lower face from the small amount of space left between your faces. “Good, reckon I would go plum crazy without you, darlin’.” Billy mumbles, barely bothering to even finish his sentence before he presses his lips to yours in a slow, deep kiss.
Raising your free hand, you cup his warm cheek in your palm, humming against his mouth as he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue across your lower lip. Suddenly, a quiet, almost disgruntled sounding grunt comes from your chest, causing both of you pull back and divert your attention down to Maybelle. No longer latched, she stares up at you and Billy from beneath the rim of the top hat which is providing her face with a wonderful shade against the unforgiving sun, her eyes heavier than earlier. “Sorry ‘bout that, little miss May.” He says with a slightly hazy grin and a quiet chuckle, gently booping her nose with his finger and chuckling when she takes ahold of it before he can pull it away, not even blinking an eye as she draws it to her mouth and begins to sleepily chew on it with her gums.
Beneath the New Mexico sun and the thin veil of fragile peace that has been thrown over the three of you for an unforeseen amount of time, you allow yourselves to forget about the wanted posters pinned to saloon walls and sheriff offices, you allow yourselves to forget about the posses and the desperate, relentless traveling to come. For this moment alone, you allow yourselves to feel truly, completely at peace in the plains.