[ teaser for a tim gutterson story is up now. called 'becoming unbecoming' for those that are tired of raylan's slut ass ]

✵︎

YOU'RE A MEAN WOMAN, MAGS BENNETT.

[ season 2 — episode 9 ]

BAMBI probably had no business being at the party being held at Mags' house, but she was there nonetheless and with a container full of homemade brownies fresh from the oven. She was among one of the first to arrive — most everyone would be coming after church let out, which Bambi hadn't been to since her father passed and stopped insisting she go.

The first to see her was Doyle, who was getting set up with his band that was comprised of friends, who Mags hired for the event. And he had a big smile for her as he set his guitar to the side.

"Hey, there, girl," he greeted, coming closer. "Mama will be happy to see you. And Dick will be happy to see you with food."

She giggled and let him take the brownies from her, leading her toward the table that was slowly filling up with food that Mags had been cooking all morning. And as people arrived, they'd be bringing even more just as Bambi had.

"I hope you ain't too rusty on that bad boy," she said, nodding back to his guitar. "Might embarrass your mama."

"And she'd kill me for it," he chuckled. "Might ought to of asked you to bring your fiddle."

"Aw, naw," she said, shaking her head as she laughed. "I ain't touched that thing since before I graduated high school."

Bambi, while she had a horrible singing voice, was pretty talented with a fiddle in her hand. Her father encouraged her by the age of eight to start playing, wishing at least one of his kids was musically inclined. But Bambi didn't bother bringing the instrument with her to college, so it remained untouched in Ava's house somewhere, where she'd been living before going off.

"Shame," Doyle sighed while setting the brownies down next to the cinnamon cake that Mags made with Loretta. "Marcus ain't near as good as I remember you being."

Bambi grinned and looked back at Marcus Williamson, who was the fiddle player in Doyle's band — they'd been friends since kindergarten, too. "Break the poor man's heart, why don't you?"

"We'll get you playing again one day," Doyle said. "Come on. Mama's inside."

She let Doyle lead her to the house, passing by a few familiar faces as they went. Mags was in the kitchen with Loretta McCready, who looked beautiful in a nice white and pink dress. Mags was fixing a pitcher of lemonade in hand, ready to bring it out — it was for the kids and the ones that opted not to try her homemade and alcoholic punch.

"I'm dropping this one off, Mama," Doyle said before nodding goodbye to Bambi, letting himself out.

"Hey, sweetie," Mags greeted. "Don't you look fetchin'."

"Thank ya, Mags," she said, looking down at her blue sundress. "Tried to fix up for you."

"Wouldn't be because Raylan's coming with that Miss Johnson, would it be?" Mags asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bambi rolled her eyes, sort of wishing she'd never opened up to Mags, who had a teasing look on her face. And Loretta just peered at her curiously.

"That Marshal Givens?" Loretta asked, tilting her head. "You sweet on him, Miss Crowder?"

"You can call me Bambi, Loretta — I wasn't your teacher," she reminded her. "And I don't think it's either of y'all's business who I'm sweet on. And I'm not, by the way. Sweet on Raylan."

It was a lie, of course, but she needed to save face in front of the fourteen-year-old.

"Well, good," Mags said, smirking a bit. Then she glanced at her watch. "'Cause that Tim fella oughtta be here soon enough."

Bambi's eyes went wide. "Excuse me?" she asked in alarm.

Mags was just pleased with herself. "Well, I called the Marshals office up. Some Chief answered and said he'd be delighted to pass the invitation on to the deputy. Can't wait to meet this boy that's giving the great Raylan Givens a run for his money."

It felt like Bambi's heart was going to beat out of her chest out of nervousness. She hadn't seen Tim since Raylan kissed her, and now she'd have to be around him and Raylan at the same time.

"I, uh, I ain't feeling so good all of the sudden," Bambi said, her mouth dry. "Might head home early—"

Mags cut her off with a hearty laugh, throwing her head back as she did so. "Oh, you are so easy, Bambi Crowder," she said, her eyes bright with amusement. "I didn't make no call. They ain't even in the office on Sundays."

A relieved sigh left Bambi's lips as she relaxed. "You're a mean woman, Mags Bennett."

"For a lot of reasons, but that little joke ain't one of 'em," she said, still chuckling. "Now Loretta, just a reminder not to go getting mixed up with too many fellas or you'll end up an anxious mess like this one."

Loretta just smirked at Bambi, amused by her small bout of panic.

"I'm so glad you're enjoying this," Bambi muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Very much so," she admitted. "Now, let's go on and get out there. There's guests arriving. We've gotta be gracious hosts."

All three exited the house, Mags wrapping an arm around Loretta as they went. The older woman began listing the more important people that would be in attendance so that she wouldn't be surrounded by strangers.

"Fella in the musty suit runs the railroad line out of Loyall. Gotta watch him. He'll grab your fanny, but he's a good man to acquaint yourself with nonetheless."

"And if he touches you, you've got about twenty people that'll shoot him for you," Bambi added.

"You know all these folks?" Loretta asked in amazement. Her daddy hadn't known anyone important during his life.

"I know the ones worth knowing," Mags bragged before listening in. Doyle and the band hadn't started playing — they were still tuning instruments, and Mags wasn't pleased with the noise. So, she spotted her middle son. "Dickie, hell. I ain't paying that band to tune all day."

Dickie, whose mouth was full of food as he ate some fried chicken, quickly perked up. "I'm on it, Ma. Hey!" he snapped, getting Doyle's attention. "How far away are y'all from making some actual goddamn music? What do you say?"

Bambi snickered as Doyle just flipped Dickie off, who held up a chicken bone to flip his brother off in retaliation.

"Y'all ought to treat each other better," Bambi told Dickie.

"Aw, naw," Dickie said, shaking his head. "He deserves it."

Then Dickie heard a loud truck pulling up and turned to watch as Boyd and Ava got out of the vehicle, surprising him. Because Bambi was definitely the only Crowder that had been invited. With Boyd's involvement with Black Pike, he wasn't welcome — even Bambi knew that.

"Well, shit! Look at this," Dickie swore. He then whistled to get Doyle's attention once more, nodding over to them.

And because her brother was involved, with a heavy sigh, Bambi followed after Doyle, intercepting Ava and Boyd before they could get onto the yard.

"You lose your way, Crowder?" Doyle asked him with an easy smile. "It can get tricky up these hollers. I figure you must have took a wrong turn."

"Well, I thought Mags extended that invitation to everybody. I just assumed it was a plus-one," Boyd explained while nodding to Ava.

"Well, y'all ain't invited. Gonna be a scene dragging you out of here?" he asked.

Boyd shook his head calmly. "We ain't looking for trouble, Doyle. We're just looking to have a word."

"Well, I'm listening."

"With your mama," he said stiffly, not budging.

"Mags is busy."

"Well, we can wait."

Doyle just shook his head. "Boyd, y'all ain't welcome. Now, you're gonna bounce one way or the other."

"Doyle, your mama needs to hear what I got to say," Boyd insisted. "You think I'd come up in this holler otherwise?"

After a moment, Doyle glanced at Bambi, silently asking if she knew what this was about. But she only shrugged, her brother keeping her out of whatever he was up to. So, not wanting to accidently get on Mags' bad side, Doyle caved.

"Y'all wait here."

As Doyle went off to get Mags, Ava just sighed. Boyd looked at her in concern. "You all right?"

"Mhmm. Never been better," she said, crossing her arms and clearly so uncomfortable.

"Ava," he said in a guarded tone.

"I'm with you," she promised him, making Bambi narrowed her eyes, wondering what was going on.

"This is a picnic on a Sunday afternoon," he reminded Ava so that she'd lose some of the tension in her shoulders.

"Wish I'd packed a basket," Ava said sarcastically.

"What does Mags need to hear?" Bambi finally asked.

Boyd just sighed and studied her expression. "Just don't go selling to Black Pike any time soon."

"I ain't," she said with a frown. "I already promised Mags the land yesterday."

"Perfect," Boyd said with a smile. "Might ought to have you in my little meeting with Mags."

Bambi rolled her eyes. "I'll help you whenever I can, Boyd, but don't involve me in no more illegal shit."

"It's all perfectly legal, mind you," Boyd said with a smile. "For now."

That made Bambi just laugh as she pushed on his shoulder. "Good luck if you don't get kicked out, B. But I'm gone be busy enjoying a party. Don't go bothering me."

"No promises, Sweet Sister."

✵︎

Of course, Bambi couldn't know peace for long. Raylan soon arrived with Carol, and it was like they intentionally sought her out, coming right up on her as she was watching all the people on the makeshift wooden dance floor as they danced to Doyle's band.

"Miss Crowder," Carol greeted, coming to stand next to her.

Bambi just hummed and glanced at her and then at Raylan, whose face was still beat up — though it looked a little better. "Miss Johnson," she said politely. "Raylan. Surprised you're here after that horrible shooting last night."

"Well, can't be worse than the one just happened at Arlo and Helen Givens' house," she said, making Bambi's eyes go wide.

"Is everyone okay?" Bambi asked, looking to Raylan. "Helen?"

"She's fine," he assured her. "Ain't nothing can spook Aunt Helen. And Arlo's fine."

"He was shot in the leg," Carol said flatly.

Raylan couldn't help but smirk. "He's fine enough."

Bambi shook her head in amusement and looked back at the dancers. "Well, did Raylan go all hero-mode and stop the shooter?"

"It's like you were there," Carol said with a smile. "I knew choosing Raylan as my security detail was the right choice. Even if I did ruin his weekend."

"Someone else would've if you hadn't," he grumbled.

"Well, at least this party ain't miserable," Carol said, nodding to the dancers. "They're pretty good."

Bambi started to slowly walk with hopes of getting away, only for Raylan to step after her, Carol following. His eyes were glued to her face as he responded to Carol, not even glancing at the dancers.

"They're better than pretty good."

"Why aren't you up there?" Carol asked him teasingly.

Raylan just shook his head. "Well, I never was much for clogging. I had a cousin, next county over. Called him Heinz," he informed them.

"Heinz?" Bambi questioned, glancing at him. "Like the steak sauce?"

"Yeah, like that," he nodded. "Claimed he knew fifty-seven dance steps that no one else had ever done before."

"Why isn't he here?" Carol asked him.

"His wife shot him," he said simply.

Then they came across a familiar face, who eyed Carol with interest. "Well, if it isn't that pretty lady that spoke at the church. My Lord, you are a picture up close."

Raylan leaned in to Carol, making the introduction. "Hobart Curtis." Then he looked to Hobart, who was swaying a bit. "I see you've been at the punch bowl a few times already, huh?"

"This one your date?" Hobart asked before whispering poorly to Carol. "'Cause I'd allow you could do better."

Carol clearly wasn't impressed by the man. "And worse, I suppose. Mr. Curtis, is it?"

"Hobart," he specified. "But, darlin', you look at me with them big green eyes, you can call me anything you like."

"My eyes are brown, Mr. Curtis," she said with a smirk, making Bambi snicker.

But she stopped laughing when Hobart put his arm around Carol and started leading her away. "Now what you need to do is come out on the dance floor with me and let me show you how to move."

"Hobart," Raylan said in a warning tone, stopping him from going further.

"Excuse us, Marshal," he said.

"I can't abide you laying your hands on Miss Johnson without her invitation. You understand," he said firmly.

"Sure. Yeah, I get it," he nodded, letting Carol go as he glared at her. "She struts in here shaking that little Ivy League ass, lay hands on whatever she sees fit." Hobart began raising his voice, drawing attention to them. "Blow the top off of it, send it down the hill into my creek. That's just fine. But I so much as touch her—"

Hobart made the mistake of trying to grab the side of Carol's face, but before Raylan could stop him, Carol did it herself. She grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back. Bambi winced, hearing his finger break — though she didn't feel any sympathy for him.

Someone tried to help him, but Raylan elbowed him in the nose, sending him down to the ground.

"Hey, hey. Stay back, all right? Now, now, nothing happening here," Raylan said to keep people calm. Then he looked down at Carol, who still had a harsh grip on Hobart, who was moaning and groaning. "I think he got it. Let's just go back to dancing."

Carol huffed and let the man go, who stayed down on the ground, holding his hand in pain.

"Hey! Ho! What do we got here?" Dickie asked loudly as he ran over, assessing the situation. "See, I was under the impression we got ourselves a party here. Am I right, or am I damn right?"

"Damn right!" the people around them shouted, some chuckling.

"Thank you so much. Well, let's get some party shit going on here, then," Dickie said while reaching for Bambi's hand. She giggled as he twirled her slowly under his arm. "What do you say?"

"Nice save," Bambi told him as he let her go.

"You know me," he said, winking at her before looking at the Marshal. "Raylan."

"Dickie," he nodded. "I think Hobart had sampled your mama's punch beyond his capacity."

"That right? Hobart..." Dickie bent down and put his hand on Hobart's shoulder. "You and me had a talk about polite." Then he gripped the older man's ear and led him to his feet. "Take a look at that finger. Easy, easy."

As Dickie led Hobart away, Bambi just smiled at Carol, which surprised the woman. "What?" she asked her.

Bambi just shook her head. "Seems you're adjustin' to Harlan just fine," she told the woman. "Might've misjudged you."

Carol raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Misjudged me enough to go over negotiations?"

"Oh, naw," she laughed before walking off. "Parties ain't for that kind of talk, Miss Johnson."

✵︎

After only thirty minutes of socializing, Bambi wasn't really in a partying mood. And Doyle choosing to play a slow song for the lovers to dance to didn't help her mood as she leaned against the side of the house.  Every now and then, a kid would run by her while playing, making her smile.

But soon, she was joined by Raylan, who didn't get the message that she just wanted to be by herself for a while.

"How's the people watching?" Raylan asked her as he mirrored her position against the side of the house.

"We sure got some characters here, for sure," she told him with a small smile. "Thought you was on protection detail?"

"She slipped me," he said, shaking his head. Though they could both see Carol talking with Mags, so Raylan was just giving her space to do business. "Not that I mind. Wanted a minute alone with you."

"Whatever for?" she asked while sighing. "Figured we didn't have nothing to talk about together. I ain't got nothing to say."

"Well, I got tons," he told her. "I have been told on occasion that I love the sound of my own voice."

"Now that, I believe," she said, rolling her eyes. "But Raylan, before I decide to let you start, I've got a question for you."

"What's that?"

"Is Winona still staying at the motel with you?"

Raylan's silence was enough of an answer for her, so, she just sighed.

"Maybe I have feelings for you, Raylan," she admitted shamefully, looking down and missing how his face lit up. "But I ain't gone stand here and ask you to leave Winona knowing you won't because I'm too young."

"And if you don't have to ask?" Raylan said softly. "You don't have to ask because it's all I think about any time I'm alone with her."

"No, you don't," she scoffed, unable to even fathom him thinking of leaving Winona.

"I do," he insisted. "You know, she said once just recently that she didn't know if we could ever be happy together — and that hurt my feelings a hell of a lot, but I'm starting to think she was right."

Bambi slowly looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of the fact that he was lying. But he looked as serious as could be, which made her feel a bit suffocated.

"But you," Raylan kept on, "Bambi, you—"

"Bambi!" As Carol interrupted them and jogged over, Raylan swore under his breath and straightened up. "I believe you've been requested."

"Requested for what?" she asked, taking a step away from Raylan.

"Me and you are having a sit down with Mags," she told her while glancing at her phone. "Come on."

"Why do you want me there?" Bambi asked with a frown.

"Well, Mags said she'd need you there for some reason," she said with a shrug. "Said she wouldn't talk without you."

"Alright," she muttered, her and Raylan following Carol around to the front of the house.

"Well, I'm quite interested to hear what Mags has to say after everything that's happened the last few days," Raylan told them.

"No, no, Raylan, Raylan, this is just between Mags, Bambi, and me, okay?" Carol said to him. "I need you to wait outside."

He looked at her in disbelief. "If I can't see you, I can't protect you."

"You're gonna be right outside, okay?" she said, her eyes glued to her email.

"Making me what, a doorman?" he asked, clearly displeased.

Carol finally looked up from her phone with a smile. "Yes, a supremely overqualified doorman. Just... No matter what happens, don't let anyone in there, none of her kin."

"Okay," he gave in, clearly not pleased. Then he glanced at Bambi and opened his mouth to say something to her — to warn her to yell for him if she needed him.

Only for Carol to step forward and grab Raylan's cheeks, kissing him quickly. Bambi's eyes went wide as she bit her tongue hard to keep from saying something she couldn't take back as Carol pulled back. Her blood boiled for just those few seconds as she glared at Carol before looking at a stunned Raylan, who at least had the decency to look displeased.

"For luck," Carol said with a big grin, backing toward the door.

Once she was inside, Raylan looked at Bambi sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck. "You, uh, you need some luck too?"

Bambi scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning to follow after Carol. "In your dreams, Raylan Givens."

"You certainly are, Bambi Crowder," he couldn't help but say, not getting to see how her cheeks heated up.

Bambi quickly caught up to Carol just as she entered Mags' living room, spotting Boyd sitting on the couch right away. And while Carol was surprised, Bambi just moved around the woman and went to sit by her brother, smiling at Mags as she did so.

"Hey, Boyd," Carol greeted, a bit confused.

"Carol," he nodded.

"What are you doing here?"

"You don't mind if Boyd sits in on our little powwow, do you?" Mags asked. "I figured if Bambi could, so could her dear brother."

Carol studied the man carefully. "You said you signed the Indian Line property, correct?" she asked, referring to Helen's land.

"Well, that's the fact of it, yes," he said. And Bambi noticed right away that Boyd didn't state who she signed the land over to.

"Well, then, you've done very well, and you can go," Carol told him.

"There's just one wrinkle to that. The lease rights to the Indian Line property now lie solely with me," he explained, watching how her face fell. "Well, I hope you understand. This is just business."

"And have you decided what you plan on doing with that property, Boyd?" Carol asked him carefully.

"Have a seat, Miss Johnson," he said, nodding to the arm chair next to them.

Carol, visibly upset, took a seat and looked between the three people, feeling like she was being ganged up on. "Miss Crowder, why do I get the feeling you're not the one I need to be talking to about your father's property any longer?"

Bambi just crossed her legs and leaned against Boyd's shoulder, not really feeling sympathy for the woman — maybe it was to do with the kiss. "No, ma'am. I'd take it up with Mags."

"Fine," she huffed, looking to the woman. "You want to cut to the chase? Fine. Here it is. Black Pike Mining is prepared to offer you a cash buy out in the sum—" She reached for a pen that was on the table and ripped piece of paper. "May I? I am writing here."

Bambi couldn't see the number she scribbled down before sliding it to Mags, who glanced at it before leaning back, her eyes wide. "My word."

"Yes. You can see by that number that we're serious," Carol said firmly. "This is a one-time-only, non-negotiable deal. You take it, we shake, we're done, and I never darken your door again. You say no, you play games, you stall, I walk out, and it goes to the lawyers. Do we have an agreement?"

Once again, Mags glanced at the numbers. "No, Miss Johnson, I don't believe we do."

"Well, then I got nothing else to say," she stated while getting up.

"You don't want to hear Mags' counter-offer?" Bambi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There is no counter-offer," Carol told her before looking at Mags. "It's this, or we go with eminent domain. Your family's history? Getting this property seized is an inevitability."

"You wouldn't be the first who tried, missy thing. Now, sit your bony ass down and listen to my counter-offer while there's still pieces of you big enough to find," Mags said in a dark tone. Slowly, Carol sat down, feeling rightfully threatened. "I will accept a payout from Black Pike for easements on my mountain. I believe we can settle for, say..."

Mags looked at the number once more and cleared her throat. "Triple the amount scratched on this piece of parchment." Carol scoffed, but Mags kept going before she could cut in. "I'm not finished. We will also take a four percent stake in the company. Not Black Pike, lest they pack up, declare bankruptcy, and disappear with what's coming to me. No, I want a piece of the company that owns Black Pike. A legacy deal. Sufficient to provide for my kin and this community for generations to come. Short of that, we got nothing to talk about."

Carol had a smug smile on her face, fighting the urge to laugh in her face. "Mags, you haven't done your homework. The properties you're holding out are worthless for coal. Parking lots and hillsides. Why in God's name would my company agree to that deal?"

"Well, it's not about the coal, Miss Johnson. It never was," Boyd joined in.

"Then what?"

"Look at a map, honey," Mags told her. "State roads can't carry coal trucks up that mountain. No way to get 'em there. You want the riches atop this piece of Appalachia, you gonna have to build your own road. And the road you need to build runs through the properties I hold thanks to these two Crowders."

"Now, I was honest up front with Bambi, but Boyd here sussed it out, looked at the pinch points for grading a lane wide enough for your trucks. He come to me, and we worked out a little deal of our own," she explained.

Boyd slid to face Carol and nodded. "The Indian Line property owned by Helen and Arlo Givens is the last parcel with Bambi's land now settled," he told her. "I was able to convince them to put their trust in me."

"Yeah," Mags said, now the smug one. "Without that property, without them, without me, there is no Green Mountain project. Nor will there ever be. Black Pike will cut its losses and move on to the next hill with empty hands."

Bambi bit back a smile as Carol pouted, the deep, dark and jealous parts of her loving that she was being thrown for a loop.

"They didn't tell you that, did they, Miss Johnson?" Bambi asked, a fake sympathetic smile on her face. "Sent you in blind to close the deal without ever clueing you in on the particulars."

"Funny way to run a business," Mags chimed in. "But, then... You pick the devil you run with."

Carol rolled her jaw tightly. "I have to make a call."

"Go ahead, honey. Go, go. Yeah," Mags said, pointing to the kitchen so she'd have some privacy. "We'll be right here waiting."

As Carol stepped out, Mags just grinned at Boyd. "You are a godsend, Boyd Crowder," she told him, chuckling. "You were right. She had no idea."

"Sounds like you're gone get what you want," Bambi told her. "Makes this whoop-dee-doo seem like a victory party."

"Well, that is what it is," she said, grinning. "Boyd, pour us a drink from over there, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded while getting up and going over to the table that had a few bottles of alcohol and cups on it. "Bambi, you want one?"

"No, I'm fine," she told him, shaking her head. "Just seeing her face is reward enough."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "What's got you all anti-Miss Johnson all of the sudden."

Bambi glanced at her brother's back, knowing she didn't need to get into it in front of him. "I'll tell ya later," she said softly. "Has to do with that shit I got myself into."

"Ah," she nodded. "The Ron and Ted business."

Bambi just grinned at the ridiculous names that she bothered to remember. Then Boyd came back over, handing Mags her drink just as Carol came back in with a look of false enthusiasm on her face.

"Well, Mags, I spoke with my people, and, uh, you got yourself a deal," she said, seemingly forcing the words out.

Mags face lit up. "I - I expected I might."

"I've worked with Black Pike for four years, six years before that with Henley Coal. And never in all that time have I seen a company lay down the way they have here," Carol admitted.

"I'd call it a blessing — a chance to learn new things in this tired old world," she said.

Carol studied her. "And all that talk at the meeting, the whole town looking at you as if you're the protector of all that's green and holy in Bennett. They're gonna blow a thousand feet off the top of that mountain, spill it into your creeks, wipe out homesteads..."

"My people have been here for two hundred years, Miss Johnson, and we will be here once your people have come in, and taken what they want and left," Mags informed her.

"And everyone else, you just sell them out?" she asked accusingly. "All three of you? Even the sweet little kindergarten teacher?"

"Well, like you said, Miss Johnson," Bambi spoke up. "You were gone go with eminent domain. It was gone happen regardless. Might as well make you sweat because of it if we couldn't change the outcome. And it's fifth grade."

"She's right," Mags went on. "Nothing changes up here, not really. I've seen the story played out time and time again before, as it will happen again in times yet to come. I'll take the cash up front, delivered tomorrow morning first thing."

After taking a sip of her drink, Mags leaned forward, offering her hand. "You want to shake on it? Up here, that kind of agreement's just as binding as they come."

"You'll hear from our attorneys," Carol said simply, so clearly pissed off as she stepped back toward the door. "They'll work out the details."

"Been a pleasure doing business with you, Carol!" Mags called as she left the house in a hurry. "If you're ever up this way..."

Bambi knew it was wrong and childish of her, but she couldn't help but smile smugly as Carol left. Then she looked over to Mags, who was just as pleased.

"You done good, Boyd, Bambi," she nodded.

"I did what was coming. That's all," Boyd said while grabbing his drink.

Mags chuckled. "Crowders. Always looking for an angle."

"Is there anything else, Mags?" he asked her.

"How in the hell did you ever get Arlo to come over to you?"

"Mr. Givens can be very practical when it comes to matters that suit him."

"Well..." she said, tilting her head. "Whatever you promised him, whatever you decide to do, take over your daddy's affairs, go your own way, whatever, the county is yours far as I'm concerned. I got my family out of all that now. One thing. Stay out of the weed business. It's Bennett territory. Always has been, always will be."

Rather than respond verbally, Boyd leaned forward, offering his hand to shake. And when it was over, he let himself out of the house, leaving the two women alone.

"Thank you for your aid in all this," Mags told the girl. "You've changed my family's life."

"Well, if Boyd's getting back to Daddy's business, seems like you've changed mine as well," she sighed.

"You gone warn the Marshal about Boyd?" she questioned.

Bambi bit her lip anxiously. "Well, it ain't like he's Daddy. Boyd ain't bad," she mumbled. "And I don't wanna see Raylan leading another man-hunt on him."

"You're a good sister," she told her. "Now, come on. We made history today. We got some celebratin' to do. Only right we do it with people we care about."

Bambi gave Mags a hand up and then followed her out of the house, smiling a bit when Mags instantly started singing along to the song Doyle was playing. But the longer she stood on the yard on her own, the more her smile faded.

Because of the only two people she cared about enough to celebrate with, one was already off the property and in a car with Carol Johnson while the other was alone in Lexington, giving her the space she had requested. Maybe, just maybe, that space wasn't what she wanted anymore.