Equinox

[scurlock]

Willow Creek, Montana Territory - Spring 1897

Tonight, when the Front Door opens, patrons who are sitting close enough to catch a glimpse through the opening might be able to hear the quiet sounds of a river running in the distance, or smell the crisp air that comes with the late-afternoon breeze over a mountain meadow, blades of fresh sweetgrass and clover just coming back to life after a long winter's sleep beneath the earth.

The man who walks through the Door may be a familiar face to some. Although, his physical appearance has aged some - nearly eleven years - since he was here last. His hair is shorter, with flecks of grey peppering his temples and the scruff of a two-day beard covering his chin. There are creases around the corners of his eyes that weren't there eleven years ago, and he walks with a confidence and an experience that only comes after a decade of hard work and honest living. He's dressed similarly as one might remember or expect. His duster hangs off his frame - he's stronger than he was a decade ago, built better - and there's damp soil sticking to the soles of his boots. A pistol rests on his hip beneath his coat, and his hat is worn and dusty from an afternoon riding back from town.

Doc makes it two steps into the Bar before he realizes just exactly where he is.



(For a brief moment, he wonders if he's dead. He's not, but the thought crosses his mind.)


To his credit, he maintains only a mildly shell-shocked expression on his face as he takes a few more steps out of the entryway.

The Door clicks shut behind him.

He doesn't look back over his shoulder at it. Right now he doesn't give a damn if it's there or not.

He's here.
He's in the Bar.


He doesn't recall crossing through the room and approaching the counter, when he reaches it, a glass of bourbon - top shelf, the good stuff materializes. Along with a note: It's been quite some time, Josiah.


"...yes, Darlin'. Yes it has been."


OOC: So, with the Equinox, and spring arriving once again, and the mun behind the pup getting her life back in some semblance of order - it has been a LONG decade, y'all - I think maybe, just maybe, I might have my brain back enough to try this again. I figured that the easiest way to do that would be to jump Doc forward roughly the same amount of time. (He's roughly pushing 40, but he's been doing well out on "his side" of the Door.) He may need refreshers on his relationship with your pup, if they've met before - because I honestly probably need a refresher, too. I'm SYNCHRONICITY2 - Ali (she/her)#8844 on Discord/Crackchat. Ping me or message the journal if you've got any questions.

Open to all takers. I'm slower than I used to be and I'll probably need to take some breaks. But I'm glad to be here. I've missed you folks.

Open to new tags until it scrolls.

Comments

[scurlock]

"I actually lived in New York City, back 'bout twenty, twenty-two years ago. I taught English at a school for boys."

Where he ran after the first Lincoln County War, trying to hide from the bounty hunters who were rounding up the members of Billy the Kid's gang. He was barely more than a teenager at that point, married and with a newborn son.

It hurts less to think about that life and those losses than it used to, but the sting is still there in the pit of his stomach. He drowns it with the remaining bourbon in his glass.

Changing the subject:

"Montana's beautiful. Probably one of the nicest places I've had the chance t'call home, and that's saying a lot for a boy from Alabama." He is a Southerner at heart. "Can't complain about the weather, 'cept when it snows for a week on end. Got good soil, good land for my crops and my cattle, plenty of room t'just do what you want to do...it's nice."

It could be considered a sin what Doc does next, but he doubts Rae is the super-judgemental type. He lightly taps his fingers on the bar and a refill of his bourbon appears, along with another shot of the applejack. He lifts the shotglass and pours it into the bourbon and gives it a swirl, ice clinking - before taking a sip.

"Not bad. Think I prefer 'em separate, though I bet there's probably one of them fancy cocktails Bar likes that puts them together."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine smiles, watching his reaction.

"I bet something good could be made of them. May need some additional ingredients, though, yeah. Something herbal or brightly acidic to sparkle off the flavors of apple and bourbon... might be something to experiment with, anyway," she grins at him.

"Montana sounds amazing. I've... only ever lived in New Arcadia. City-girl, me," Rae adds, wry. "Until a decade or so ago it was only ever a small, backwater city; it has been growing, but still couldn't even hold a candle to the brilliance of New York at its peak."

[scurlock]

Doc's pretty sure his time spent in New York City was hardly at the "peak" - especially what he's been reading now in the papers, about the advances in transportation and electricity throughout.

"I prefer havin' some space to myself, though I liked Portland well enough. I like bein' closer to the water. I suppose that comes from bein' too long in the desert without it."

He contemplates the idea of a cocktail.

"She gets me to tend Bar once in awhile," he adds. "Though usually I just stick to the basics, but you're correct, might be worth an experiment or two."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine has seen pictures of New York at its peak, at least, before the Wars. But she tries not to talk much about the state of her world's New York; it tends to upset folks who have a connection to the city in their own worlds.

"I've heard the desert has its own severe sort of beauty, though I've never seen one, myself. I'd say I could live just about anywhere, so long as there are enough sunny days," she grins, wry, "but if I threatened to move my regulars at the coffeehouse would likely revolt and drag me back."

She could never be so cruel as to leave them.

[scurlock]

"There's plenty of sun, that's for certain." One corner of Doc's mouth lifts into a hint of a smile. "And yeah, a beauty in the miracle of that which manages to survive in it, harsh as it is."

There are days when Doc misses the desert.

"There's somethin' about the way everything smells after it's been baked hot in the sun, some folks think it's just dry and dead, but it ain't...it's just changed a bit."

Sagebrush and pinyon pine lining the steep walls of a canyon, the only respite from the heat a faint breeze that feels as if you'd opened the door of an oven and were standing right in front of it.

"Folks get particular 'bout their baked goods. Given your choice of ingredients there," he motions at the liquor. "I can't say I'd blame 'em much."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine smiles quietly, watching him, listening. "You make the desert sound beautiful, however harsh it might be. The bakery with all the ovens going full-blast in a New Arcadia August might come close to the heat, but..."

There's a quiet ding! from a timer in the kitchen, catching Sunshine's attention.

"But," she continues, chuckling, "the real question here is whether you'd like a slice of pie. The cherry-berry crumble should've cooled down enough not to be outright lava, by now."

[scurlock]

The half-smile from earlier becomes an honest one at the offer of dessert.

"If you're offerin' a slice, I'd be more than willin' to partake."

He'll even make an attempt at being a paying customer!

"I know a couple friends of mine who used t'come around this place that might even be jealous at the thought of a fresh-baked fruit crumble fresh out of the oven."

[sunbaked_baker]

She grins as she stands up from her lean against the far counter, her bottles of bourbon and applejack in-hand. "Well, if they come around, there may be slices for them, too. I do bake with an aim to make people hungry."

Her grin is a toothy one, but it is too bright to be truly nefarious. She enjoys seeing people take pleasure in the things she makes. It is better than any monetary payment.

"I'll be right back with your pie."

[scurlock]

She isn't gone long, but the few moments she spends in the kitchen, Doc takes the time to finish his bourbon/applejack combination and turn on the barstool to survey the main room.

The Window is still in the same location. The Universe is still on the eternal loop it was when he left all those years ago. The Back Door is still in the same spot - he wonders about the outdoors, about the lake, the inlet, the horses and the stables. Wonders about his room in the staff hallway, and if it's still even his.

Mostly, though, he's looking for familiar faces of people he might know.

[sunbaked_baker]

It may actually take a minute or two before she returns - she would like to get that bourbon-pecan pie into the oven, and the bourbon was all she lacked. The apple pie... well, the applejack is to go into the pie crust, so that will have to wait.

Bourbon-pecan pie in the oven and timer set, Sunshine soon backs through the kitchen door, carrying two slices of cherry-blackberry pie on small plates. Each slice has a small cascade of buttery-sweet crumble topping, and is still quite warm from its time in the oven.

The Bar, helpful as ever, manifests two forks and two napkins, one pair of which appears at Doc's elbow even before Sunshine fully reaches the counter.

"I'm pleased with how this one turned out," she admits, as she returns. "Sometimes the crumble wants to bake too quickly and gets too brown." Not this one, though, from the looks of it. It is still golden and crunchy and promises to be a perfectly sweet counterpoint to the tart blackberries and cherries within the pie.

[scurlock]

At the sound of her voice, he glances back over his shoulder and then turns himself back to face the bar (and more important, Rae and the incoming pie) proper.

"Jesus," he laughs under his breath, placing his napkin in his lap. "If that tastes even half as good as it looks, which I'm certain it does...I can see why the church ladies get beat every time y'enter a contest."

He picks up the fork as she slides the plate over towards him.

"And why your customers might revolt if you tried to make a run for it."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine chuckles, setting the pie plates down on the bar top. "I hope it tastes even better than it looks. Cherry'n'berry pie has a slim window back home when both are in season, but it's always popular."

She gestures with a fork, smiling. "I have been known to ask the helpful Milliways' patron base to help me taste-test new recipes from time to time."

You know, just in case he'd be interested.

The pie itself is still warm and fragrant from the oven. The crust is flaky and tender and yields easily under a fork, the crumble topping a crunchy and buttery counterpoint to the cherry and blackberry filling that holds all the sweet-tart brightness of early summer warmth.

[scurlock]

When Doc had first arrived in Willow Creek, he had caused a slight bit of a stir among the locals - a young man, educated and practiced in the field of medicine, moving to a new town with the intent of setting down roots. (And most important to some, an eligible bachelor.) He'd made an effort to attend the regular Sunday services at the church in town if only to keep up appearances, which naturally meant that he'd enjoyed his fair share of offerings of meals or baked goods to take home, lest he be "forced to go without for a whole week" with what the good ladies of the church felt he needed to survive.

He's had a lot of pie over the last few years.

Nothing compares to this, as he takes his first bite and his eyes involuntarily slip closed for that perfect moment of enjoyment.



"...oh, wow. You are good." He finally says, once he remembers how to speak again.

[sunbaked_baker]

When his eyes open, he'll see her smiling at him. It's a quiet, private, pleased smile.

"Sounds like you approve."

Because that kind of enjoyment, the moment when people take their first bite of something she made, with her hands, and are able to forget any worries or tiredness they may be experiencing - the worldly concerns fall away and they just sink into a pure moment of bliss - that is why she bakes.

The hours are long and the monetary compensation is laughable, but the looks on people's faces, caught up in deliciousness she made - that's all the payment she ever really wants.

[scurlock]

"Very much so."

He's sticking to basic sentences and phrases at this point, because this pie is just that damn good. Between the texture of the crust, the crunch of the crumble on top, and the mixture of flavors that can only come from fruit which is truly fresh and in-season, baked to perfection...anything else would likely require too much effort on his part.

"It's been quite a time since I've had anythin' with berries just this perfect."

It's been a long winter, and the bounty of summer is still long on the horizon in Montana.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Unlike my suppliers back home, I've never had any complaints about the quality of the bar's ingredients," she remarks, taking a bite of pie - damn, that turned out well. Mmmph. "It helps to know you're using quality ingredients each time. However she does it."

A yellow napkin with a smiley face appears before her on the counter.

"Fine, fine, 'magic' it is," Sunshine grins, fond.

[scurlock]

"Might be Bar's doin' ensuring that the ingredients are well and good, but you're still the one who put it all together."

No offense, Bar. Magic or no, Sunshine still had the reins on this baking project.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Fair, fair," she allows, wry. Sunshine knows her own skill, without false pride, but she also knows that the best food starts from the best ingredients. Even she would find it difficult to make a quality bruschetta from anemic winter hothouse tomatoes.

"You'll apologize to the church ladies on my behalf?" She lifts her eyebrows inquiringly as her grin returns - she isn't entirely without smugness, "I didn't mean to upstage their recipes from worlds away."

Not entirely, anyway.

[scurlock]

That gets an honest smile in response - with a fair hint of an only-slightly devious smirk thrown in for good measure. "I'll be sure t'pass along your condolences at the next gatherin' I find myself at after Sunday service."

What the church ladies never know won't hurt them, anyway.
Even if Doc wishes damn near everyone in Willow Creek could try this pie.

[sunbaked_baker]

"That would be very kind of you," Sunshine grins, taking another bite of the scrumptious pie.

"Pie is on my mind lately for multiple reasons, really," she adds, after a moment of thought. "I'm trying to recreate a recipe for a friend of mine here, for a pie that seems to have passed out of popularity - out of common knowledge, really - some sixty years before my time. To the point where even I had never heard of it before he told me about it."

"I've been doing some research in the library here, and will likely be doing test recipes sometime soon."

In case hed be interested in taste-testing.