Uther did not bother her the rest of that night. When he was sure she was out of the kitchen he entered to fix himself something to eat before retreating to his room for the night. Inside his room he picked up the dress and held it in his hands as he heard the sound of gunshots outback. He looked out and saw her miss, her aim was terrible but she was holding the gun steady. Steps at a time, she would get there in time he mused before he kicked off his boots and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. His wife's old dress still hung limply in his hand, the urge to guide it to his nose to sniff it could not be ignored.<br/><br/>It was not his wife's scent but it was similar, it was a comfort, far different from the perfume the girls at the Saloon used. After a long time he finally stripped down and slid into bed, using the dress as a blanket before he slipped into a deep sleep.<br/><br/>The following morning he was up and gone, unsure if she was awake before him. He gave her the space she might appreciate but not knowing her he was unsure. Uther was serious, he did not want to find her dead or worse at the hand of the Castle brothers so he hoped she would stay around until she was ready to take her fight to them. Life went on as usual for the Marshall, the town was calm but outside the town's borders, the ranches were being attacked and it kept the man and the deputies busy. Some days he would get home late just to sleep and leave, others he would actually nod at the woman but found it hard to look straight out her. He even began checking the tomb daily to make sure and pray to her, ask if she had come back in some form. Uther had never been a man of faith but talking to a gravestone made sense to him.<br/><br/>(Skip ahead a week? Then pick it up one evening?)