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Star of the Valley Down

Chapter 12: Farewell to Old Kentucky

Summary:

Saige and Elliott share a drink, as well as pieces of their past.

Notes:

Here's some fluff! This was honestly so much fun to put these two in such a cute scenario!

Chapter Text

The first sip was tentative, the flavor bold and complex on Saige's tongue. It was smoother than she remembered, with a warmth that spread through her chest. She set the glass down, her fingers still wrapped around the stem.

“Not bad,” she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Elliott leaned forward slightly, his expression curious. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I am,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had wine. Longer than I care to admit.”

Elliott didn’t press her for details, though she could see the question in his eyes. Instead, he offered her an encouraging smile. “Well, I’m glad I could share this moment with you. Sometimes, it’s the little things that remind us of who we are—or who we’re becoming.”

Saige studied him for a moment, her smile softening. “You have a way with words, you know that?”

He chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “It’s a writer’s curse, I’m afraid. But thank you.”

They sat in companionable quiet for some time; while a blush crept up Saige’s neck as she absentmindedly swirled her wine glass against the bar top. The silence continued until Elliott shuffled on his stool, clearing his throat before he finally spoke; “Did you always want to be a farmer?” 

“Um, well,” she chuckled nervously, “I suppose it was always in my blood.” Saige shrugged as she took another tentative sip of wine. “So much so that I got my bachelor's degree in agriculture.”

Elliott smiled broadly as leaned over the bar, resting his chiseled chin on his hand. “I can't imagine you as some preppy college girl. Our shy little Saige? I don’t think so.”

Saige immediately felt the heat from her neck rise to her cheeks. ‘Our Saige’. She couldn’t help but smile as she giggled through her anxiety. “Well I don’t know what to tell you, Hemingway, I'm a Berkeley College alumni.” Saige said with a bashful smile, hardly noticing that she had used Marnie's nickname for Elliott as she raised her hands up in a mock cheer. “Go Knights!” 

Elliott laughed as he took a drink from his beer. “Well Miss Alumni, color me impressed.” 

As Elliott’s laughter faded into a soft smile, Saige felt a strange warmth settle over her—not from the wine, but from the easy rhythm of their conversation. It struck her then that this was the first real exchange she’d ever had with him, one where she wasn’t guarded or distracted by her own anxieties. 

For the first time, she noticed how kind his hazelnut eyes were, how they seemed to hold a depth of understanding that made her feel seen. The way his dimples appeared when he smiled, softening his otherwise sharp features, made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t prepared for. He was handsome, undeniably so, but it wasn’t just his looks that held her attention—it was his gentleness, his ability to make her feel at ease, as though she could finally let her guard down.

“So…” Saige started as she took another sip of her wine, the warmth of the liquid fueling her confidence. “Did you go to school? College I mean?” 

For a moment, Elliott faltered. His warm eyes flicked with something all too familiar to Saige. Fear. Fear of letting someone get too close.

“I did.” Elliott finally replied, though his words were cooler than they had once been, his eyes fixed on the glass clasped in his hands.

“Elliott, you don’t need to talk about it.” Saige whispered as her hand hovered over the bar, her fingers just inches away from Elliott’s forearm. The instinct to comfort him was strong, to offer some small gesture of reassurance, but her mind raced with doubt. Would he even want her to? Would he pull away, uncomfortable with the intimacy? The thought made her chest tighten, her breath catching as old fears bubbled to the surface. Years of walking on eggshells had left her second-guessing every action, every boundary. Her hand trembled slightly before she pulled it back, clutching her wine glass instead.

The lines between kindness and vulnerability felt blurred, and the idea of crossing them left her feeling exposed. She glanced at Elliott, his expression distant, and a pang of guilt settled in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly.

Elliott shook his head in reply as he turned his gaze back to her, the warmth returning to his eyes once more. “No no, it's alright. I was just there for the wrong reasons. It is hard to think about sometimes… Hard to acknowledge.” His smile was warm and reassuring as he lifted his glass to his lips; taking a small sip. “I went to Yale University.” He paused, before mumbling into his glass; “For business.” 

Saige choked on her wine, immediately regretting the sip she had taken as she coughed through her embarrassment and surprise. “Yale?!” She gasped out. “You went to an Ivy League school? For business?”  

Elliott chuckled softly, setting his glass down as he leaned back on the barstool. “Yes, Yale. For business,” he said, his tone tinged with self-deprecation. “My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps, take over the family business back in Kentucky.”  

“Kentucky?” Saige repeated, her brows raising in surprise. “I didn’t know you were from the South.”  

He smiled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Born and raised. Though I suppose I don’t fit the stereotype, do I?”  

Saige tilted her head, studying him with a playful squint. “You hardly look like a cowboy.” Saige couldn’t hold back her smile before adding, bashfully; “ And well, you don’t have an accent. At all.”

Elliott laughed, the sound rich and genuine; “Oh I'm mighty sorry to disappoint Darlin’.” he teased, his voice thick with a stereotypical southern drawl as he tipped an invisible hat. The accent made Saige giggle, until she noticed Elliott’s face falter once more. “My father insisted I lose the accent during my schooling. He said it wouldn’t ‘command respect in the business world.’”  

Saige frowned slightly, her amusement softening into something more thoughtful. That sounded like something her mother would have said to her. “That’s horrible.” She whispered out.

Elliott shrugged, though his smile remained. “It’s all right. I discovered my love for writing in the process. Twas a necessary evil I suppose..”

Saige nodded, her fingertips tentatively tracing the rim of her glass. “You have a very optimistic outlook Elliott.” Saige couldn’t help but wish she was the same when it came to recounting her past misfortunes.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression warm and contemplative. “You’re kind to say so.”

Elliott smiled, his eyes locking with her own as he seemingly studied her. Saige felt her cheeks flush under the weight of his gaze. Little did she know that her decision to go to the Stardrop Saloon would result in sitting at the bar top with Elliott; learning about his life. 

“So, are you two gonna kiss or what?” Pam’s drunken voice bellowed from the other side of the bar, shattering the moment. Saige’s face went crimson as Pam’s words echoed through the otherwise empty saloon, her mortification amplified by the amused chuckle that slipped from Elliott’s lips.

 Saige turned her gaze to the bar, suddenly fascinated by the grain of the wood, and wished she could disappear into it. Elliott, however, seemed unbothered, his smile widening as he turned toward Pam with a playful bow of his head. “Now, Miss Pam, a gentleman never kisses and tells.” His tone was light, teasing, but Saige could feel the heat creeping up her neck as she dared a glance in his direction. The warmth in his eyes hadn’t faded, and it made her heart skip in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront.

Needless to say, Pam’s outburst had ruined whatever moment the two had shared; and although Elliott appeared unbothered, the light air of the conversation had quickly turned heavy and awkward.

“Well…” Saige started as she started to stand from her stool, “It’s getting late. I-I should really get back to the farm.” 

Elliott stood, mimicking her movements, “Let me walk you home. It’s my fault you stayed out so late.”

Saige hesitated, clutching the cardboard box she had plucked from the floor as she looked at Elliott. His expression was earnest, his hazelnut eyes catching the dim light of the saloon. “You don’t have to,” she said softly, her voice wavering. “I’m fine, really.” 

Elliott stepped closer, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile. “I insist. It’s a quiet walk, and the stars are particularly bright tonight. Besides,” he added, his voice dipping into a teasing tone, “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home alone after such an evening?”

Saige opened her mouth to protest but faltered. The thought of walking through the darkened streets alone suddenly felt heavier than usual. She shifted on her feet, her fingers tightening around the corners of the box. “I… guess that would be okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Elliott beamed as he moved to open the saloon door for her. “Then it’s settled. After you, Miss Foster.”

The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the faint hum of crickets filling the silence. Saige pulled her coat tighter around herself, glancing sideways at Elliott as they began their walk. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed, yet there was something about the way he stayed just close enough to her that made her feel… safe.

They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the rustling leaves. Saige found herself sneaking glances at him, her mind racing with thoughts she wasn’t ready to unpack. She wasn’t used to this—this quiet, unspoken comfort. It was unnerving and soothing all at once.

“So,” Elliott said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence but not the calm. “What’s your favorite thing about the farm?”

Saige blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Oh,” she murmured, her brow furrowing as she thought. “I guess… the mornings. Everything feels fresh and alive. Like the whole world is starting over.”

Elliott nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “That’s a beautiful way to put it. I imagine it must feel like your own little piece of paradise.”

She shrugged, her gaze falling to the path ahead. “It’s peaceful, but… it can be lonely sometimes.”

Elliott slowed his pace, his expression thoughtful. “Loneliness has a way of sneaking up on us, doesn’t it? Even in the most beautiful places.”

Saige glanced at him, her chest tightening at the understanding in his voice. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It does.”

They reached the edge of her farm, the familiar outline of her house glowing faintly in the moonlight. Saige stopped, turning to face Elliott. “Thank you for walking me home,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Elliott smiled, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than she expected. “It was my pleasure. Sleep well, Saige.”

She nodded, her cheeks warming as she turned and made her way up the path to her door. As she reached for the handle, she glanced back to see Elliott still standing there, his figure silhouetted against the starry sky. He raised a hand in a small wave before turning to head back down the path.

Saige stood there for a moment, her heart fluttering in a way she couldn’t quite name. The night felt colder without him, and as she stepped inside; her mind was swimming. Not just from the wine, but from Elliott’s words.