hasperkynipples | civil war au } { meddling mothers

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civil war au } { meddling mothers

Her son received a letter from a woman.

Not that the idea of Dean having female suitors is unheard of in the Winchester household, but before the war they weren't particularly ones to write. After the war - well, they were almost non-existent. Mary isn't one to deny the fact that her son came home different, a little bit colder but still gentle in the ways that mattered. He grew up in his time away and while the things he's seen were likely not pleasant, he isn't letting them mar him. At least, not in ways that she can see.

All the same, the letter from a woman, a Miss Christine Chapel, finds its way to their front door, and the inherent curiosity gets the better of her. She informs him of the letter, lets him read it, and waits for him to do something in response. In fact, she waits an entire week, and when he doesn't give her a return letter to put through the post, she takes matters into her own hands.

John will probably scold her for it later, but she also saw the look on her son's face when he read it. This meddling is worth doing.

It's takes some time for mail to travel, so much so that she almost completely forgot about the invitation she extended this "Christine Chapel." So when the blond woman appears at their doorstep while she's tending to the flowers in front of their home, she can't help but blink at her in surprise.

"Can I help you?"

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His answer makes her smile, and she nods in concession. Happiness is more important than being important, that's true.

"You will, I'm sure. You already have a good start, with such a wonderful mother. And I'm sure your father and brother are the same, even if I haven't met them."

"I'm sure you'll get to meet my dad before you go. He's probably going to be heading downstairs soon." Especially if his mother told him that Dean had a female caller. "I should warn you, though, he likes to think he's charming."

Christine gives him a smile, a knowing look gracing her face.

"Don't all men like to think they're charming?"

That's been her experience during the war and even since then. Smiles and sweet words were a daily occurrence, and she only indulged it so far, thinking the men needed a little brightness in their lives. A smile in return, maybe a laugh at their jokes, but no more.

He laughs a bit at that, before shaking his head. "Probably true, though my father is worse than most. However, he does say that he's where I got all my charm from. How much of that is true, I don't think we'll ever know."

"You do have a gift for it," she admits, looking away with a smile. She focuses on the horse and carefully holds out her hand, not moving too near in case the animal doesn't want to be petted. She knows that some are frightened by the sheer size of a hoop skirt coming at them. But this sweet old mare stays put and Christine reaches out more to lightly draw her knuckles over the bridge of its nose.

"Yes, sweet girl," she coos.

Dean smiles softly as the mare stays put, before making a soft clucking sound for her to come come closer. He gestures with his hand and the horse stumbles closer, moving into the soft press of her hand.

"That's it. See, she doesn't bite."

It's not particularly clear who he's talking to there.

Christine assumes at first that he's speaking to the horse because she's not afraid at all. Her worry was frightening the horse herself. But as Impala lets Christine rub her nose, the woman turns her head to smile up at Dean, understanding now that he may have been addressing her.

"I could never be afraid of such a gentle creature. Do you ride her too?"

"Yeah, every once in a while to get her some exercise." He glances back to her with a small smile. "Want to take her for a ride?" Because he could easily saddle up a couple of horses and take her for a ride around the property.

A tiny thrill shoots through her and she looks between Dean and the horse.

"I would love to -- if she doesn't mind an inexperienced rider?" She really doubts she could ride with enough confidence that the horse would listen to her.

"Nah, she's the best for that. We all learned to ride on her. She can be a bit difficult, but that's mostly when she's trying to figure out if you're riding her or if she's riding you." Which ... you want to be riding her, just for the record. "Just gotta show her who's boss."

There's an unappreciative snort from the horse. Dean turns back to her with a nod.

"You know I'm right."

Christine giggles at the horse's reaction and Dean talking back to her. Patting her nose, Christine adds, "You'll be nice to me, won't you sweet girl?" Because she's not sure if she can be the boss in this situation.

Maybe. We'll see. Dean just chuckles a bit, before gesturing for her to take a step back so that he can get in the gate and saddle her. "Oh, she'll be plenty nice. She's a big fan of a pretty face."

She moves aside, face warming up at the compliment. But she's unsure if she should be thanking him for it or not, so she decides to just stay out of the way until he beckons her over.

He saddles up the horse, making sure the side saddle was snug against the horse's back, because in that dress she wasn't going to be using anything else. Then he opens the gate to lead her out, watching as she obediently comes to a stop near Christine. Dean rubs her side as she stops before holding his hand out to her.

"We'll get you up there and settled so that you can get used to it while I saddle up one of the others to go with you."

"All right." She takes his hand, trying to mask her nervousness. This is something she really does want to do, so she hopes her eagerness can overcome that nervous feeling.

"How do I get up?" She's never really paid attention to ladies mounting horses before. It's a rare sight when you live in a city or town and carriages or wagons are available.

He pushes a stepping stool over from the side of the aisle, before offering his hand to her to help her step up. Once she does, he'll move his hands to her waist slowly. "I'm not trying to be improper, I simply wish to give you a hand."

The contact does made her feel giddy, like she's drunk too much champagne, but she's quick to slide a hand along his arm to brace against his bicep. The other hand follows on his opposite arm, and her eyes meet his, feeling bold.

"I know. I'm ready when you are."

"Alright." And with that, he lifts her up into the saddle with the ease of someone who's used to doing a lot of heavy lifting. He lets her settle in the saddle, before reaching for the reins and handing them to her. "Use these to guide her left or right, and pull up hard to stop."

Though she's sitting stiffly and still appears nervous, she takes the reins and nods. The idea of falling off and hitting her head has her knuckles white around the reins. Hopefully the mare doesn't take off.

"And you will be right beside me?"

He nods in agreement as he pulls up the second horse he saddled. He mounds him in one smooth motion, settling into the saddle easily and coming up next to her. "Every step of the way. Don't worry, I won't let her run away with you."

"Good. Holding you to that." She smiles a little, a bit of her unease lifting away knowing he'll be close by. That doesn't mean her grip on the reins loosens any, but at least she's holding them in a way that's not yanking at the bit in the mare's mouth.

"I'm ready whenever you are."

He nods a bit before leading his horse out with a nudge of his heels and a few soft clicks of his tongue. As he passes her, he gives a soft tug on Impala's bridle to help guide her forward, so that she falls in step behind him. She does as she's told, clomping forward at an easy speed.

Christine's eyes widen as the horse begins to move. It's somehow much different than riding in a carriage. With each leg moving forward, she can feel the horse's muscles move, and she lifts and dips slightly along with it. She feels like at any moment the jostling will cause her to slide right off and all she can do is grip tight to the reins and hope that won't happen.

She's even afraid to speak, in case it spooks the horse. She probably looks a sight, eyes wide as saucers and gripping the reins up near her chest.

Dean glances back over his shoulder to see if she's still following him, and he can't help but smirk a bit when he sees her. He pulls up on the reins slightly, slowing his own horse so that he falls in step next to her.

"Relax. Trust the horse."

She exhales slowly, eyes darting over to him. She feels quite foolish at her behavior, but she hadn't expected to act this way before getting on.

"I am trying, but I fear I'll fall right off. She's never thrown anyone, has she?"

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