#also if anyone has a cowboy hat i'd like to borrow it thanks

[team-science-mega-nerds]

When Sam was sixteen, pregnant, and terrified, the last thing her mother said to her was find a church and you’ll be alright. For the past ten years, she’d done just that. Town to town, some stable most not so much, the first place Sam always went was a church. Midvale is no different and because she is alone for the first time since Ruby was born, she goes out of her way to involve herself in the day to day activities of her new church. 

It’d been tough watching Ruby depart for her summer camp. A month might not seem like much in the grand scheme of things, but Sam had struggled to make meals for one and her house was so quiet that she had to constantly play music or risk losing her mind. She wasn’t worried or stressed, just lonely in an unfamiliar way, and she suspects that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. 

“You’ll love it,” Ms. Williamson tells her grabbing her arm in a way that she supposes is friendly, but it feels more possessive than Sam would like. They’re in the middle of sorting through clothing donations in the sanctuary, boxes, and people everywhere. Sam is on unpacking duty with Ms. Williamson. “Just door to door stuff. And you’ll meet some lovely people.” Then, like a switch, Ms. Williamson grabs Sam’s arm tighter and leans close enough for Sam to smell the peppermint scent of her arthritis cream. “But you stay away from the Danvers Ranch.” If Ms. Williamson knew Sam outside of bible study and the occasional smile they shared on Sunday mornings, she would know that telling Sam not to do something is a sure-fire way to get her to do it. 

Sam had only been in town for six months but she’d heard the Danvers family mentioned twice. Apparently, a whole family used to live there, but now it’s just the oldest daughter who runs the ranch on her own. It sounds like hard work. Wyoming is not a forgiving territory and if Sam could be a friendly face, then she was going to be it. 

“I think I’ll give it a shot,” Sam says with a shrug. From the look of Ms. Williamson’s face, Sam’s lack of conformity is not something she’s used to. 

“She ain’t one of us,” Ms. Williamson mumbles into her styrofoam cup of stale coffee. 

“I thought the point was to help people find a way. No matter who they are.” The cold shoulder that Ms. Williamson throws her way doesn’t strike Sam as particularly effective. About an hour into sorting, Sam decides to forgo a late evening snack and a preview of the choir’s Sunday performance in favor of driving into the country. 

She likes this drive. She does it every day on the way to work but in the summer the surrounding mountains and luscious green fields make Sam happy. Genuinely. And if Sam hadn’t been so happy - and lonely - then she might not have taken a sharp turn and driven up the long road leading to the Danvers’ ranch. She might not have grabbed her bible. And she certainly wouldn’t have knocked at the door. 

It’s the waiting game that unnerves her the most. The ranch itself is beautiful and well taken care of. Sam sees horses grazing out in a fairly large open field that takes up most of the 20 acre lot. There’s the main house and a large barn behind it. Sam wonders how one person could ever take care of all of this alone. She’ll have to figure it out another day because she doesn’t think Alex is home. 

“Who’s there?” A shotgun pointed in her direction is exactly the thing that Sam did not need today. She screams. Loud. And then, she reckons with the fact that she’s so far out in the country that no one can hear her. “Oh…” The weapon’s lowered and Sam spots a woman wearing bootcut jeans, blue flannel that’s rolled up to her forearms, and a baseball hat thrown over her hair. If Sam wasn’t so unnerved by the gun, she’d pay more attention to the fact that this woman is a sweaty mess. “You’re wasting your time,” She says nodding toward the bible. “But if you want a glass of water or something, I could use one too.” She doesn’t wait for Sam, as she strides up her front porch and swings the door open. 

Everything about this situation has alarm bells and red flags popping up in Sam’s brain but she follows anyway. Stupidly, that’s for sure. When she steps into the house, it appears just as modest and undecorated as she might assume, but the kitchen is quaint and organized. The woman’s back is to her, the shotgun resting against the counter, while she makes coffee. “I told them to stop sending people here-.”

“They didn’t send me. In fact, they seemed mighty eager for me to stay away from you,” Sam explains. The woman turns around and smiles at that comment. She pours Sam a glass of water and sets it on the counter without a word. “Mrs. Danvers-.”

“It’s Alex,” She corrects. “And it’s ‘Ms.’ if that’s all the same to you.” The coffee percolates on the stove and Alex slides into a chair. Sam can visibly see the tension drain from Alex’s shoulders and when Alex takes off her hat, her sweaty hair is finger-combed back into something that isn’t quite presentable but charming nonetheless. “Do you have a name?” Sam stops staring and clears her throat.

“Samantha.” Alex’s eyes find the bible again, she looks a lot less hostile than she had before, but maybe it’s because she’d shed the gun. “Sam.” Somehow, even though Alex is wearing dirt, sweat, and hay on her clothes and tracking mud on the floor, Sam feels self-conscious about what she’s wearing. Her summer dress suddenly feels too short. The way she parted her hair feels too young. Under Alex’s gaze, Sam is uncertain about everything, including what to do next. 

“I’m sorry you came all this way-.”

“I’m not…” Sam clears her throat again. She reaches for the water, gulps some down, and starts again. “I’m not like the other people who came here. I’m not here to convert you. This is just…” Sam holds up the bible slightly. “Something that we can turn to if you want.” 

Alex stands and heads to her cupboard. She grabs two mugs. “Sit down, then. The last thing I need is someone saying I’m not hospitable.” This seems like a good sign at least. Sam takes a seat at the two-person wooden table and admires a beautiful orchid that’s sitting in a ceramic pot on the table. “My mom bought that for me,” Alex explains, setting a mug in front of Sam. “Every time she visits, she makes sure it’s still alive. That’s her way of checking in.” There’s a bitterness to the comment that feels like a stranger to the warmth and sweet hazelnut flavor of the coffee. 

“Where is she?” 

“Florida. Retirement has worked wonders for her.” Sam notices Alex’s calloused hands, the farmer’s tan on her arms as she tugs off her flannel and reveals a worn white t-shirt and the way she keeps looking outside to check on the horses. “You’re new here?” 

“Hardly. I have a few months under my belt.”

“And before that?”

“Arizona. But I got laid off and somehow someway, ended up here.” Sam shrugs it off. “How are you?” 

“Hm.” Alex smiles for the first time but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Funny question to ask someone you don’t even know.”

“I’m trying to get to know you.” 

“Okay.” Alex reaches for the bible and flips through it. This isn’t absentminded carelessness. There’s purpose in Alex’s eyes. There’s something familiar about it and that gives Sam hope, though she remains unclear of what exactly she’s hoping for. “I gotta get the horses settled. But…” Alex closes the book gently and slides it back toward Sam. “If you want to come around again, I don’t mind.” 

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Alex stretches her arms and stands up. “I promise not to shoot you if you promise not to push it.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” Alex walks her to her car. The goodbye is unceremonious but clear. Sam will be back the next day, bible in tow, to talk with a woman who seems like she hasn’t wandered off her ranch in years. 

Sam keeps an open mind as she was always taught to do but that doesn’t stop the nerves from sneaking up on her the following day. Sure, Alex won’t pull a gun on her, but there was still something different about this woman that Sam didn’t understand. The way she’d moved around the kitchen resembled something like a dance. Sam didn’t know how to participate in it, not yet. “You’ll have to give me a minute!” Alex shouts from out in the field. She’s grooming one of her horses, so Sam leans against the fence and watches. 

Alex is well in her element out there. Sam holds her bible close to her chest, awestruck wouldn’t be an overstatement. Thankfully, Alex is finished soon enough, and she joins Sam near the fence. “You might as well leave that in your car.” Today, there’s something playful about Alex and the suggestion. Sam follows Alex into her house again, but she leaves her bible on a table near the door before they go into the living room. “How was your night?” Alex asks. Sam sits on a large couch staring at what seems to be a very happy family photo of the Danvers family. Alex is younger in the picture but most of her features are the same. Now, of course, her hair is much shorter but what little Sam has seen of Alex’s smile is present in the frame. 

“Um, nice. Boring,” Sam admits. “You?” 

“About the same.” Alex enters the room carrying two mugs of coffee. “I thought about you a lot though.” Sam is almost startled by the admission. Almost, because Alex seems to register exactly how flustered Sam gets at the thought, and she enjoys it. 

“Me?”

“Yeah. I wondered what exactly you’d have said to me.”

“What do you mean?” 

“If I told you that I was lost and I wanted to find God again.” Alex sits right beside Sam on the couch. Their legs touch, Alex’s jeans pressing against Sam’s bare knee, and then - as if on purpose - Alex’s arm brushes against Sam’s. “What would you have said?” 

“But you didn’t say that, did you?” 

“Would you have read to me? Or offered to take me to church with you?”

“Neither.” Sam holds Alex’s gaze. “I would’ve talked to you about my journey. And you would’ve listened.” 

“Tell me then.”

“You don’t really care. If this is a game…” Sam starts to stand but Alex grabs her wrist to keep her there. 

“It’s not.” Alex nods and leans back on the couch. “I wanna know about you.” 

“I was pregnant in high school. I didn’t have anyone to turn to. The first church I went to, they fed me, gave me a place to stay, and got me a job. I know that’s not the same experience for everyone. But when people are good and they have real faith...the world is different.”

“And how many ‘good’ people do you know?” 

“Not many.” Sam sets her mug down on a plain block of wood that Alex is using as a coaster. “But a few is enough for me.” 

“I always thought it was beautiful.” Sam can only feel Alex’s jeans, brushing against her leg. Every movement is threatening to make her crumble. Being this close to someone, anyone, is bringing up this bashfulness that she doesn’t understand. And it must, of course, have almost everything to do with intimacy. The fact that Alex is a woman has nothing to do with it. 

“You always thought ‘what’ was beautiful?” 

“Unconditional faith.” Alex spots the bible on the table. She stands, retrieves it, and returns to her spot beside Sam. Only closer this time. “If I asked you to open this book and read me a passage, then I would know you. Fully.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Alex sets the bible down on Sam’s lap. “I always thought that if I asked all those people who came here and judged me before they even knocked at my door to do this very thing, they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t know how to share their faith with me. It’s a lot to ask from you, but it takes a lot for me to listen.” 

“Did it occur to you that knowing someone, really knowing them is terrifying?”

“Yes.” 

Sam looks down at the bible, her fingertips grazing the frayed edges of the book. She flips it open to a page that’s already dog-eared and reads. “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings, you will find refuge. His faithfulness will be your shield.” Sam doesn’t look up from the pages for a long time. She knows Alex is watching her but she stills. Had she given in to something she didn’t understand yet? Or was this a trade, like Alex has suggested? 

“You have a beautiful voice.” Sam is astonished by the comment. She’s nothing more than reddened cheeks and eyes that can’t seem to focus, while Alex traces her finger over the word that Sam just read. Sam doesn’t know what to do or say when she realizes that she’s starting to wish that the bible wasn’t in her lap and instead, Alex’s hands were touching her bare skin. 

It isn’t a thought that she’s used to, nor understands. She’d never seen a woman and felt this kind of need. “Have I offended you?”

“No, it’s…” Sam closes the bible. She feels ashamed of the way she’s feeling and cornered by her own thoughts. “Would you like to read more? I can leave this here-.”

“It won’t sound as good in my voice. Keep it.” 

“Well…” Sam crosses her legs, one over the other, Alex’s eyes follow intently. “I don’t think it’s fair that you know me now but I don’t know you.” 

“You can ask me anything.” Alex grins. “I don’t bite.” The tone of the comment makes Sam think that Alex does, in fact, bite. 

“Do you get lonely out here?” The surprise shows on Alex’s face. 

“How can I get lonely? I’m never alone.” Alex finishes the rest of her coffee. She grabs Sam’s hand and pulls her to her feet. She doesn’t let go until they’re standing in the barn. A large speckled grey horse looms over them. “I wake up at 5 every morning. I have a cigarette at noon and 9 and as long as I have that, then I’m happy.” 

“That sounds like an easy life.”

“It is.” Alex pats the horse, they both look very comfortable together. “Sometimes there are distractions. Trouble comes in many forms.” 

“Do you have any other family out here?”

“My sister visits more than my mom but besides that? No.” 

“What about…?” 

“You can just ask you know. If you need to know why everyone whispers about me, then I’ll tell you.”

“I don’t care for gossip,” Sam assures her. “And whatever they’d have to say, I’m certain it wouldn’t be true.”

“It is true.” Something about that fact gives Alex great joy. “I’m not as much of a fucking menace as I used to be.” Sam flinches in a way that she might call childish at the way the swear word comes out of Alex’s mouth. It’s not something she’s used to hearing. “If you ever feel like riding, you know where to find me.” It sounds like the first time Alex has offered something like this. Whereas the invitation to come into her home had been hospitable - ‘the right thing to do’ - there was something far less formal about this. If Sam lingered on it any longer, she might’ve wondered if Alex had any friends at all or if Sam was the first person she could stand to be around. 

Sam is clumsy about her intrigue. She purposefully leaves her bible behind. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. Even at home, Sam can’t find a way to keep Alex off her mind. Mindless chores feel mindless and without her bible to lean on memory is her wavering guide. She misses Ruby. She misses dinner for two, even though their kitchen gets too hot, and they have to escape to the table outside to eat. 

She remembers something that’s always stuck with her. Church isn’t just for worship, it’s a sanctuary. So she drives and drives. Clearing her head and not her heart. She parks and enters the open church and prays. 

Now when Sam prays, she doesn’t ask for a lot. Instead, she finds that these are the necessary conversations she needs to get through her long days. At church, she isn’t closer to God, but the ornate stained glass is something beautiful to look at. 

Even in the dark.