Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration. D.H. Lawrence

You'd never fallen in love at first sight before - but that didn't stop you from recognizing it when it happened for the first time. It was certainly most unexpected, not only because you never thought you'd find anyone again after Stephen was killed, but because you fell in love in the process of attempting to save Nathan Jackson's life and some sarcastic part of you thought that perhaps you should have been just a little more focused on the task at hand.

Everything was different when you were younger; you expected to grow up and meet a man and get married and have a son and so none of it took you by surprise when it happened. It was just nature taking its course, after all. And Stephen was tall and handsome and idealistic, all of which were qualities that made him all the more exciting and made your future seem to hold so much promise, though it still wasn't love at first sight with him because you weren't sure of his feelings - or your own. His drive as a journalist and thirst for storytelling sometimes seemed to take over every other facet of his life and you sometimes wondered how you could ever hope to compete with something so thrilling. But he pursued you; he made you absolutely certain that yours was a love and a relationship that would last the rest of your lives and for that you loved him with your whole heart.

Stephen himself was so convinced of the promise of your future that how could you possibly know that those same qualities that made him so special were also the ones that would one day cause someone to take him from you? How were you to know that the son you were hoping would grow up to be just like his father would instead witness the murder of that very man and carry it with him for the rest of his years?

How were you supposed to know that falling in love at first sight with a man as different from Stephen as night and day would change the course of your life so significantly?

He stood on the porch of the saloon smoking a half-chewed cheroot and taking in the actions of the lynch mob of cowboys with an air of resigned, curious – and, yes, even vaguely amused - observation. From hat to boots he wore black and, though you couldn't see his face clearly from your vantage point in the middle of the street, something about his manner caught your attention. You couldn't pinpoint the exact thing, but somehow you had a sense that he'd always been at the periphery of your vision but that you had never actually glimpsed him until that day.

Still, you didn't know you were in love until the moment he stepped from the porch and fell into step beside the wiry buffalo hunter from the dry goods store across the street, following the cowboys and their captive to the town cemetery. He took one step and you knew: you loved him. You'd always loved him and yet this was the first time you'd ever seen him. How odd.

This nameless man in black – the man you loved - was going to save Nathan from a lynching – and you knew it instinctively as you watched him move down the street with an easy coiling of the muscles on his lean frame and a grace that most men couldn't muster if they tried. He had cast his cheroot to the side and was scowling beneath the brim of his hat as he headed into a situation that could very easily result in his death, yet he showed no fear and instead carried with him that same air of amusement you'd noticed earlier. For all of those things – for his manner, his walk, his scowl, and his heroic gesture - you loved him at first sight.

Yet there were still hundreds of things that you didn't know about him, that you wouldn't know until much later. But in that moment you were still certain it was love; how could that be?

For instance, you didn't know that his name was Chris Larabee and that he made his living as a hired gun – a living that consisted of whiskey, bullets, occasional female companionship, and more whiskey.

You didn't know that his eyes were usually the dark brown of polished walnut but that sometimes from a different angle they were such a sparkling hazel that they reminded you of an amber broach that you'd once seen in a store window.

You didn't know that in those eyes you would see despair so deep that it was a wonder they weren't vacant from the pull of it, but that behind the despair was also a flicker of light – of hope – that pulled you in the way a candle attracted a moth in the darkness of night.

You didn't know that his sense of humor and his wit – when he allowed them to emerge – were so dry that you'd often find your reactions to the things that he said delayed, the meaning only sinking in later when you were alone and replaying the conversation in your head.

You didn't know that your productivity would decline once your father-in-law declared Chris and his six compatriots to be the protectors of the town of Four Corners, if only because you found yourself stationed at the window of your office at all hours of the day, attempting to catch a glimpse of him on the street outside.

You didn't know that the source of his pain was steeped in a similar set of circumstances to yours, that his wife and young son had been lost in a fire and he had been powerless to save them.

You didn't know that your blood would freeze in your veins - hurt, shocked, and unsettled as his expression made you - on the day you told him you shared his pain and he looked you squarely in the eye and said, "No, ma'am; you don't."

You didn't know that your heart would pound and your breath would catch on the day that he first called you "Mary" instead of saying "Mrs. Travis."

You also didn't know that he would have the power to unnerve and frighten you with his sometimes casual regard for human life - until the day you saw that he was willing to kill to save yours.

You didn't know that he would demonstrate his own feelings for you, not in words or actions, but in inactions, like the time he left you to settle your own feelings towards a "sporting woman" of his acquaintance rather than step between the two of you.

You didn't know that his dark moods would frighten you so deeply that some days it would be all you could do to muster up the courage to say "hello."

You didn't know that his easy, teasing moods would frustrate and fluster you so completely that you would feel your face flush with embarrassed heat the moment he cracked even a half-smile to show how much fun he was having at your expense.

You didn't know that very smile – rarely seen and slow to form when it did appear - would come to mean so much to you.

You didn't know that your son, Billy, would trust him so completely from their first meeting and that Billy's trust would cause your own to flourish, until you couldn't remember not putting all of your faith squarely into his hands.

You also didn't know that it would be taking care of Billy that would hasten not only Chris's healing process, but your own (which you'd long thought was over and were surprised to feel emerge with your feelings for the gunslinger).

You didn't know that you'd soon be able to sense his presence without even sighting him and that somehow just knowing that he was in the same room would give you a sense of security.

You didn't know that he would become your rock and the one person that you anchored yourself to whenever the world seemed ready to open its jaws and swallow you whole, nor did you know that one touch of his hand against the small of your back could pull you from the brink without his uttering a single word.

You really knew nothing about him at all.

All you knew while you chased him to the cemetery behind the lynching party was that he was standing up for Nathan, whom you'd always counted as a friend, and you hoped that he would be successful (and not die in the process). You weren't even thinking of the story that you'd write later about the events of the day, short of describing the man in black in your head so that you might remember him always the way he looked striding down the street.

Only later would you realize that if he had ridden away that day instead of taking a stand, the rest of your life would have turned out to be completely different – and not at all as special.

Without him in Four Corners, you never would have remembered what it was like to have a real friend to talk to.

You never would have witnessed the deep bond that grew between Chris and the six other men who became fixtures in the town, never been charmed by Ezra, sweet-talked by Buck, gotten to mother JD, been mothered by Josiah, or learned what real poetry sounded like when Vin shared his thoughts.

You never would have heard Nathan's quiet laugh again.

You never would have felt safe enough to bring Billy home, nor watched him ride down the street with Chris on his way to the fishing hole with a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. (Such a normal little boy activity that you feared he'd never get the chance to do again!)

You'd never have learned all of the things that you didn't know about Chris and never tasted the rich sweetness that accompanied love the second time around.

Nor would you have felt the twisting and wrenching fear of watching him ride out of town with the Seven – only to have it replaced by joyful release when you saw him return to you again, unharmed and looking into your eyes with such a trueness that it made the fear and waiting worthwhile.

In short, your life would have passed you by in the pages of your newspaper.

You didn't expect any of it – could never have predicted it for all the world back when you planned that life you'd pictured when you were younger – and it was the surprise of it that made the experience that much deeper and your feelings that much more acute. And even when you tried to make a connection to the man in black when the gun smoke had cleared - when you asked where he'd come from and he told you, "Saloon" and you asked where he and Nathan and the buffalo hunter were going and they again replied, "Saloon," there was something in his eyes, something that passed between you that told you it was the start of something new and unexpected. You weren't sure what it was, but somehow you knew that one day you'd stand beside him on a porch watching the sun set, your arm looped around his waist, your head on his shoulder, and your mind again marveling at the surprise of it all.

It wasn't nature taking its course this time; it was much, much more.

FIN

Author's Note – Wow, this one was harder to write than Chris's (probably because Mary never got as much background exposition as he did). But the cool thing is, it's given me a plot bunny to do a similar story for the rest of the fellas – I'm tentatively titling it "The Best Laid Plans." Check back in the next couple of months to see if it's up! (And while you're here, click that little button below and tell me what you think of this one.)