This fic, when Kitty enters
the story, is set during the first season.
Solomon V. Pierce was what you’d call a bona-fide, self-made
man. He’d traversed a long way in his many
years on this earth, both geographically and socially. Born to an uneducated, unwed mother named Lenora
during the hottest summer anybody’d ever remembered in New York City, he’d
known only poverty and deprivation as a child, his dear mother forced to sell
herself to put food in their mouths while he did odd jobs on the filthy city
streets to help ends meet.
When Lenora died a horrible death before his devastated young
eyes, ravaged by syphilis at the age of thirty-three, Solomon decided to leave
behind the overwhelming sorrows he’d faced in the East and head Westward to
make his fortune, where the air was clean and fresh as a daisy, and an honest,
hard worker could make something of himself.
He wanted to live out the Great American Dream. Lord knows, his unfortunate mother never got
that chance herself, and Solomon wanted to do her proud.
On the dusty, spine-jarring stagecoach ride headed for
Topeka, he met the most beautiful little thing he’d ever seen in his life, Océane
Arcenaux**.
Wise beyond her years, she was a girl with haunting eyes and a dark past,
as well as a name that brought to mind rolling waves beneath a ship instead of
the never-ending sea of grass that passed by their stagecoach window. She’d left her family at an early age and
hadn’t seen them since, refused even to speak their names. Like his poor mother, she wretchedly admitted
to him quietly that she’d been forced to prostitute herself to keep body and
soul together, but quite naturally he could not bring himself to fault her for
that. They fell in love on that long stage
ride across the vast Kansas prairie, and Solomon asked Océane
Kathleen Arcenaux to marry him when they arrived in Topeka, for he could not
bear to let this tragic, exquisite creature continue any longer to live out the
life that had killed his own mother so pitilessly.
They lived simply and frugally, saving their money for
bigger and better things. Daytime was
spent working hard, and nighttime was contentedly spent in each other’s company. To Solomon, his wife was a beautiful
treasure, with big blue eyes, silky red curls and a heart made of purest
gold. She even helped him learn to read
and write, and he spent many hours poring over borrowed and second-hand books
by lamplight in their tiny, one-room home.
Océane
sometimes spoke French to him and even taught him a little, hinting of her
former mysterious life, especially when they made love during their long nights
together, holding each other tight and dreaming of the good days to come.
After scrimping and saving and working multiple jobs, there
came a time when they had saved enough to buy some land of their own, a ranch
close to the Arkansas River northwest of the little town of Cimarron,
Kansas. Océane
finally became pregnant with their first child not long after Solomon managed
to secure more land to add to their modest spread, including the tract with the
big oak tree up on the hill that his wife loved so dearly.
They were rightfully proud and awfully eager to start a
family at their new home, but alas, it was not fated to be. After three long days of agonizing labor, Océane
pulled her dear Solomon near her bedside and whispered how she loved him so,
even more than life itself. She also, at
long last, spoke the names of her father and mother and sister whom she had
left back in New Orleans all those years ago, in case they should wish to know
her fate someday. And then she died in
his arms, his beautiful Océane
Kathleen. He buried her with their
unborn child still in her belly beneath her beloved spreading oak tree, in an
ocean of grass underneath a clear azure sky the color of her eyes.
Solomon V. Pierce never remarried, but stayed on at the
ranch, making a good living and sustaining his heart with the memory of his
happy marriage. It was on a trip to
Dodge City one day many years later that he chanced to visit a saloon called
the Long Branch. He was sitting quietly in
the back, cooling off with a cold beer, when he was struck dumb with the sight
of a stunning young woman with the bluest of eyes and shining red-gold curls,
the prettiest girl he’d laid eyes on since…since his Océane.
She was the very image of his late wife, and he
surreptitiously watched her for quite some time in quiet astonishment. It was apparent to him that she was a working
girl, and that pained his tender heart to no end. He finally worked up the courage to ask her
to sit with him, and they talked for some time.
The girl, whose name was Kitty, was so friendly and genuine, and she
impressed him with her sincere kindness towards him. Her sparkling eyes and easy laugh made him
feel like he was falling in love with his dear wife all over again. What an old fool I am, he thought.
Then he swallowed hard and tried to sound nonchalant as he questioned
her. Her accent? Where was she from? Why, what a surprise…New Orleans. I know folks from there. Her parents?
And her mother’s maiden name?
He felt weak when, so guileless and unsuspecting, she’d told
him everything. She worriedly asked him
if he was alright, if he needed a glass of water. No, he was fine. He was just tired. His stage was departing for Cimarron in only
a very few minutes. He had to be leaving
now, but thank you, my dear. You have
been wonderful company.
Solomon V. Pierce trembled for quite some time on the ride
back to Cimarron. He’d come to Dodge to
see a doctor, Galen Adams, who’d told him he had a bad heart and didn’t have
too awful much longer to live. The Doc
had been very kind, but firm, making it clear that he needed to finalize his
financial matters and make his peace with God.
Solomon was ready to be rejoined with Océane
again, but sadly he didn’t have any children to whom to leave his hard-earned
ranch. The accidental meeting with Océane’s
niece, who seemingly epitomized the beauty and spirit of his beloved wife, seemed
providential. There was nothing he
wouldn’t do to help get young Kathleen Russell out of the unfortunate line of
business into which all the women he’d ever loved in his life had been forced.
tbc
**Oh-say-AHN-uh
AR-sen-oh
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