Penelope's father had been her world. Someone to look up to, to idolise. If he hadn't been at the saloon that day he might still be alive - and if the Sheriff had listened to her when she told him there was a fight at the saloon, if he had just taken her seriously and responded when she had ran to him crying, perhaps both of her parents would have made it out alive. Now the Sheriff was in her care. She finds herself feeling remorseful for how cold she had been to him for all these years and begins feeling attraction. He looked so handsome, so beautiful, when he smiled. Penelope fought back a cough and turned away. If only banishing those thoughts was so easy. To occupy herself she knelt in the soft grass, on the edge of a flower bed. Vibrant marigolds bloomed, though they were being overtaken by weeds. No matter how often she plucked the soil clean, they returned. The earth shifted as the Sheriff knelt beside her. He sat close, though not close enough to touch her. Even so it felt too close, both exhilarating and terrifying...