Homeland Intrusions

[hiddenshot]

Barton Hollow (Sam's idea, not his) was coming along well, even with the winter storms, both snow and the occasional freezing rain that left a sheet of ice over everything. The barn had been up for almost two years and the small cabin he and Sam shared had gone up right after the corral was built, but the last winter had come too fast to get it properly weatherproofed. Fortunately they'd managed to finish that task in the spring, once the snows had melted and the rain had come to make proper chinking mud, and the two-room cabin had proved snug and welcoming through the rest of the year.

It did not, however, stop them from getting sick, especially since they still spent most of their days out of doors tending to the horses or hunting or felling firewood. Clint himself had come down with a bad head cold back in the early summer after spending the day out in a terrific storm looking for a runaway colt, and Sam's turn had finally come in early February, but his was worse than Clint's had ever been. A fever and chills, sweating and shivering at the same time, the kind of thing that had a much better chance of being fatal than a bad head cold in June. Clint had shoved Sam into his bed the moment he realized his partner was succumbing, and the next morning he'd made an emergency trip into town to get the doctor to come look at him. While the doctor was packing her bags, he'd also dropped in to the general store in order to get a few things, more blankets and some tea and some foodstuffs, and it probably didn't take the people in the store long to put the sums together when Dr. Porter had stuck her head in the store and informed him she was ready and he'd left immediately, throwing a few bills on the counter without bothering to count them (and realize they were worth far more than what he was purchasing). He hadn't told anyone else specifically about Sam's illness, but logically he knew it wasn't hard to figure everything out, and he didn't expect it to stay quiet.

But he very much didn't expect to hear a knock at his door two days after that and open the door to reveal Laura Cooper. All he could do was stare at her, mouth a little open in shock, at her sudden appearance on his doorstep. He hadn't even been certain she knew where he lived.

"...Miss Cooper?"

Comments

[takeashine]

"Mr. Barton," she says, giving him a small nod. Behind her there is a horse whinnying and a cart. In her arms, she has a blanket and a large pot with a lid. The February air is brisk and she's loaded down with a scarf, bonnet and one of her thicker winter dresses.

She swallows, lifting her chin slightly as if she expects an argument. "I heard Sam's fallen ill and Doc Porter said she hadn't heard of any improvement from you. We were half worried you'd come down with it also. There's been a few families struck down. The Roberts lost their son to it last night."

She swallows, her hands tightening around the pot. "I'm glad to see you still standing. Are you feeling well? How's Sam?"

[hiddenshot]

"Little Dannie? I hadn't heard." He hadn't heard because he hadn't been off the ranch since fetching the doc, but it's not unusual for him and Sam to go an entire week without going to town. Too much to do and too little time to do it in make having casual trips a mile up the road harder than it would be for most others.

There's no argument coming from Clint about Miss Cooper being at the door, but there is still a confusion about him, even after she explains. "I feel the same as always, and Sam's doin' pretty well - he's complainin' all the time, at least, so he must be gettin' some strength back. I thank you all for your concern, but there's no need to worry on our behalf."

[takeashine]

She presses her lips together and nods. He'd been eight years old. One of the more gregarious boys. Prone to getting into trouble, but also more than capable of talking his way out of it. "They're burying him tomorrow morning."

"Glad to hear it," she says, her tone clipped. Sometimes she's not sure if Clint is intentionally trying to make things difficult for her, or if he's just completely oblivious to her intentions. It's something she's found herself thinking over more and more over the last few months. "However, I'll worry about who I worry about."

"Are you going to invite me in, or are you going to let me freeze on your doorstep?"

[hiddenshot]

"Shall I come to the service? Sam can't, he's still required to stay in- Yes you are!" The question is suddenly interrupted by Clint turning to yell back over his shoulder, a look of aggravation forming on his face as Sam apparently decides to weigh in from the second room in the cabin, the one they use for sleeping and something of a work room. His hearing is excellent, better than anyone he knows, and so that means he can hear Sam protest about coming with him even if Laura probably can't, given Sam's low and raspy voice. "You mightn't have a fever now but you're still coughin' fit to lose a lung! You're stayin' in that bed long as that's happenin', Wilson, or I'm makin' you sleep in the paddock! I might just do it anyway given how much you're gripin'!"

It's an empty threat, of course; Clint knows it, Sam knows it, and likely Laura knows it. He and Sam have developed that kind of relationship, that kind that gives each other a hard time about everything, more akin to close cousins or even brothers than simply employer and employee or even friends. The rest of the town knows it as well; they don't try to hide how well they get on, ignoring looks given to a black man and a white man acting as equals, and fortunately a good number of the people in town don't look down on Sam for the color of his skin even though some do. It's one of the main reasons Clint had chosen Juniper to settle in, since he'd had a choice. And Laura, of course, had absolutely no objection to him at all and treated him with the same kindness she showed all good people - another reason Clint appreciated her as much as he did.

But at the moment, when he looks back at her, that look of irritation isn't gone from his eyes; empty threat or not, Sam feeling a little better is clearly being something of a problem for his friend, likely in the same way that an ill Clint would be a problem for Sam. "It's for the best you go home - he's bein' a pest today, and I haven't had the time to keep the place up. Thank you for your concern, though, and if you could tell the doc I'll be bringin' him to her in a couple of days for a go-over?"

[takeashine]

Under normal circumstances, Laura would probably find the fact that Clint is arguing with an unheard Sam mildly amusing. Everyone knows the two of them are thick as thieves, despite their differences, and Laura has come to appreciate how well they work together. She doesn't really believe that Clint would follow through on his threats, but his attempt to be taken seriously by the ill is slightly comedic.

Laura's hands are full and so she's unable to shoot out a hand to keep him from closing the door in her face, but she does shoot out a dainty, boot-clad foot. "Clint Barton," she says, her voice clearly aggravated if the flush of her cheeks hadn't been sign enough. "I'm not leaving until you let me in that door."

"Let her in!" Sam's hoarse voice came from the back of the house. It was followed by a fit of coughing and the sound of something overturning on the floor, indicating that Sam was trying to get up and around.

Laura gave the back of the house a worried glance before attempting to push her way in. "I could care less about how a pair of bachelors keep the place up. I'm here to lend a hand." She takes a deep breath and looks Clint in the eye. "Don't fall prey to pride. Let me."

[hiddenshot]

As much as he'd like to shut the door in her face, Clint doesn't do it. Seeing her for the first time since Christmas has dragged Sam's words of that day back out into the open of his mind; it doesn't show on his face, he's trained himself to keep weaknesses locked down, but part of why he doesn't want to let her in is he doesn't want to confront the truth or lies of Sam's words, find out which it is. Or if maybe they were truth when he'd last seen her and were lies now. That... he honestly doesn't know what to do with that idea.

(And why is it a weakness to be liking someone? He's settled now, he's respectable, his reasons for not getting involved with a girl before don't stand now, but he's still thinking in those terms. Temporary partnerships were the rule of his past; if he chooses to put down roots now in that way, nothing's stopping him. But he can't shake the feeling that she deserves better than him, not with all the secrets he's still keeping.)

But all his arguments to send her off fly away when he hears that crashing from the other room; he knows exactly what that means, given it's not nearly the first time he's heard it over the last days. Without giving Laura a clear yes or no on whether she can come in, Clint turns from the door and runs into the other room, just in time to grab Sam's shoulder in one hand and his upper right arm in the other to force him to stay in bed, ignoring the tin cup and puddle of water now spreading across the plank floor. "Sam, if'n you don't stay down, I'm loadin' you in the wagon and takin' you to Doc and lettin' her do what she wants with you until she says you can work again."

He's fairly certain that Laura will come in without an expressly-voiced consent, but he's not going to win in a fight against both of them.

[takeashine]

It's a testament to just how poorly he feels that Sam gives in with little more than a small groan as Clint pushes him back into bed. He'd been leaning towards cleaning up the mess he'd just made and not letting Clint get in his own way when it came to Laura when the force of will that had gotten him half out of bed failed him halfway.

Instead he grips Clint's arm, lowering his voice and staring him in the eye. "Can you at least try to be hospitable?" He says, his brow furrowing as he tries to fight back another round of coughing. "Offer the lady some coffee. Sit and talk a while. Don't be an ass."

He gives into another round of coughing and lets go of Clint to lie back. Laura appears at the doorway, her expression worried. "How are you faring, Sam?"

"I've been better," Sam says, giving her a small grin. "But I think I'm getting over the worst of it. Mighty nice of you to think of me."

"I'm glad to hear it," Laura says, returning his grin. "I brought you some soup. Should be enough to last you and Mr. Barton a few days."

"It's a long ride out here in the cold. Why don't you stay a while? I'm not in much shape for company, but Clint was just about to put on some coffee."

[hiddenshot]

Sam might notice a small flush under Clint's skin at his quiet admonishment; he feels a little like a child again, being told to be polite by a relative. But while yes, he's trying to send her off, he's doing it because something keeps going wrong and he doesn't want to insult her any further. Better the minor insult of turning her away than making her livid with something he says, no matter what Sam thinks.

But before he can counter Sam's words, Laura's there in the doorway, and he can't respond without her hearing. He shoots Sam a glare that promises they're going to be talking about this later, because while he loves Sam like a brother (possibly more than his real brother at this point, having not seen him in thirteen years), trying to arrange his life isn't something Clint's liable to put up with. No matter how much he admires Laura. "You want me to put on the coffee. I'm not makin' it until Doc says you can have some, Sam, I don't need you whinin' about not bein' able to drink any." Because at the least he can make sure that Sam gets better, even if he's being a pain.

There's simply no way he's going to win against Laura's own stubbornness and Sam's attempt to "do him some good"... not unless he's not there for the two of them to work together against. Fortunately there's a good reason for him to not be there, at least for a few minutes. "I'll go settle your horse in the stable - this's no weather to leave a beast out in if it can be helped. Sam, stay in that bed - Miss Cooper." A significant Look at Sam, a quick nod to Laura, and Clint is moving to pull on his coat and hat to go out and put away the horse and cart.

[takeashine]

Normally, Sam would take Clint's guff and bluster with a grain of salt, but he's all too aware that Clint's stubbornness is only making this particular opportunity that much more difficult. He squeezes Clint's arm as if to ask him to trust him, before he settle back on the bed. "I don't need to drink it. The smell would be enough to help me along. Not to mention on a cold day like this. I can't think of anything sounding better than a hot cup of coffee. Can you?"

It's a small victory, but at least with Clint moving for his coat it doesn't mean he's moving to show Laura Cooper out the door. Sam takes in a deep breath of relief that turns into a cough. He looks at Laura with a small smile. "I'd offer you something to eat, Miss Cooper, but I think I've nearly pushed him to his wit's end this week having to look after me. Probably best not to poke the bear too hard."

Laura shakes her head slightly. "I'm not expecting you to feed me, I came to feed you." She gives Sam a slight grin and then reaches for a blanket on a chair nearby and moves to put it over him. "You rest up and I'll heat up some of that soup and put the coffee on."

Sam nods gratefully, adding in a soft tone before Laura makes it out the door. "Be patient with him, Ms. Cooper. He's a little rough around the edges, but he pure gold on the inside."

Laura shoots Sam a doubtful look before making he way into the front room and rolling up her sleeves. By the time Clint has returned she's got the soup heating up over the fireplace and the coffee on. She may also be tidying the place up a little bit. Sam's sound asleep again.

[hiddenshot]

Clint comes back in a good handful of minutes later, longer than it should have taken to simply put a horse and cart in the stables - he was obviously deliberately drawing it out. Though considering he was "drawing it out" by piling up hay in one of the empty stalls to make a little windbreak for her beast as well as getting him settled with some oats and two warm blankets, maybe she won't be too annoyed about it. But, well, he doesn't exactly know what to do right now, and the longer he can keep from confronting it, the better he feels. But he knows he left for too long when he gets back in and he sees her performing housekeeping duties in a home that isn't hers.

"Miss Cooper, you don't- There's nothin' you need to do here, don't put yourself to the trouble." In truth, he's embarrassed, and for once he can't completely keep it hidden. He and Sam aren't the most particular about keeping house, but they tend to clean things up before it gets too bad, and since Sam fell ill he just hasn't had the time to do so. The front room of their cabin, where they do everything beyond sleep and change clothes, is decently warm enough thanks to the roaring fireplace, but there's bits and bobs scattered everywhere, from his small station where he fletches arrows in the corner to the few books they own scattered about to blankets and even pieces of clothing laying in strange places. Clint hurriedly moves to intercept her and stop her from doing their chores, because as grown adults they should be able to look after themselves. "Thank you for the thought, but there's really no need."

[takeashine]

"It's no trouble," she says, not immediately stopping in her mission when he returns. In truth she hasn't done much, except clear off the table and start picking up a few things here and there, though it may seem a little more considering her hands are currently full.

It seemed more productive than sitting and waiting for him. She's not being judgmental, after all, both Sam and Clint had implied that Sam's sickness had been a handful the last couple of days. She's just not the type to sit by idly on her hands. He moves to intercept her and she finally stops, meeting his eyes. She holds out the items she'd picked up in her hands to hand them over - a book, a shirt or two and a pair of boots. At least, she notes, he doesn't sound as annoyed as embarrassed.

"Is there anything I can help you with while I'm here?" She asks. "I'm here to help both of you. Sometimes caring for someone is more tiring than being the one who's sick."