The lunge line and halter felt awkward in his hands. What the fuck am I doing? His brow creased, and he frowned deeply. This is stupid. He looked up at the woman who had placed both objects into his hands.
She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. "Well?"
"I'm not doin' this."
"You'll do as you're told, boy. Now get in there and work with him."
"This is absolutely ridiculous, lady. The chances of me," he paused to taste the foreign words on his tongue, "joining up with that horse is just "
"Stop fucking around and get in the round pen, Marston." She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. "Now!"
"I…"
"Yes?" she asked impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"I…don't have a clue what I'm doing, miss. I've never broken a horse like this. Pa just always showed me the way he knew."
"You mean the cruel, sadistic way of tying up the horse's legs with rope and yanking them out from underneath them so you can pin him down long enough to forcibly strap on a saddle and bridle and ride him till he bucks himself nearly to death?"
He nodded, wincing inwardly at her viciously accurate description. "I guess."
"We're not "breaking" these horses, Mister Marston, let me make that very clear to you. What I'm teaching you to do is different. Rather than forcing the horse into submission through torture and cruelty, you gain his trust and friendship through unification. You become his herd-mate, leader, and, most importantly, his friend."
"Well, yeah, I understand that, but…" He ran a hand over his face, flustered. "But I don't have a goddamned clue as to what I'm doing here. I don't know the first thing about joining up."
"That's why I'm here. I'll talk you through it, Jack."
"And if I screw it up? It's not like I've got a hell of a lot of experience."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" She sighed heavily and bowed her head, bringing up her right hand to pinch the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. She took a moment to recollect herself before asking calmly, "Do you want me to demonstrate for you, princess?"
"Yes."
"Fine, then. Get the stallion out of the round pen. I'll drive the filly in there and show you how it's done."
Within ten minutes, they had driven the stallion into a smaller pen off to the side before replacing the filly in his stead. Once driven into the pen, the pinto loped about, frightened and looking for a way out. The woman let the mustang run about for a minute to let her become aware of her surroundings. During that time, Jack noticed a crowd of ranch hands had begun to gather around the pen; all eyes were fixed on the feisty horsewoman as she entered the pen with his lunge line and halter in hand.
Jack leaned his elbows on the top board of the round pen. He caught himself admiring her, especially when she took off her duster and hat so as not to spook the filly further. Her long waterfall of dark-brown hair flowed and swayed lazily behind her back as a light breeze began to blow.
He was surprised when she walked up to him and held out her things over-top the fence. "Hold these for me, and keep a sharp eye while I join up with Féileacán. You're gonna be doing the same thing with Sundance here in a while, so pay attention and don't doze off."
He nodded dumbly as he draped her duster over his shoulder and held her hat by the crown. "Um…okay." It sounded more like a question than a statement.
She took on an aura of aggression as she turned and faced the filly. She squared her shoulders and looked the mustang in the eyes. The filly looked back as she paced the fence across from her.
Her arm jerked forward in a vicious motion as she threw the end of the lunge line at the rump of the filly. The mustang shied away, kicking wildly at it. The woman lashed the line again, making the horse lope around the round pen. She intently watched the horse's head, urging her on with the line whenever she slowed her gait. Both females kept their full focus on the other.
Five minutes into the ground work, Jack noticed the filly flick her closest ear towards the woman. She tossed her head and swished her tail. In response to this, the woman took a commanding step forward and threw the line in front of the filly, causing her to jerk to a stop, spin around, and lope in the opposite direction. She did this several times, making the filly jink to the right, then to the left, then right again, then back left. She worked the horse hard, making her dance about and understand that she was the one in charge.
Jack was growing bored and impatient after ten minutes of this. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his knees creaking and his spurs jingling. Okay…so what am I supposed to be getting? All she's doing is making the horse run around her. That's it. What's the point in all this? Sighing, he spoke his thoughts, his voice holding an annoyed tone.
Without taking her eyes off the filly, the woman responded, "Keep watching. There's a point to all this."
"Such as?"
"What I'm doing right now is showing her I'm in charge. In the wild, the lead mare chases away colts and fillies whenever they do something wrong. She chases them away, roughly 'bout a quarter of a mile, before she stops and stares at them, right in the eyes, and faces them fully, like what I'm doing."
Jack grew confused. "But she didn't do anything wrong, lady."
She turned the horse around and made her run the other way with a swift, graceful flick of the lunge line. "I'm showing her that I'm in charge, that I'm gonna be her leader. Right now, I'm making her run that quarter of a mile. Right now, I'm the matriarch putting her in her place. Soon, she'll show me her submissiveness, and when that happens, I'll point that out to you. So keep watching."
He found that hard to do, however, when his mind and eyes began to wander. He couldn't help but notice how well his overseer's clothing fit her curvy body, how her long hair sway behind her back and whip around her shoulders as she worked the horse. He shook his head to reset his focus.
"Ya doin' all right, boy?" came a familiar voice to his left. Jack looked over and noticed Eli Jones had come up to him and was resting his elbows on the fence. He tipped his hat in greeting with a knowing smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah, I'm doin' just fine." He rested his left boot up on the bottom board of the fence, his spur singing out at the movement, and pretended to be intensely interested on the horsemanship the woman demonstrated.
"She sho knows her hosses," the Negro commented softly.
Jack nodded, fearing where the conversation might go. "Yes, she does."
The black man tapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. "Watch, I bet she gon join up with that hoss in 'bout ten mo minutes er so. I betcha a dolluh, mistuh."
Jack grinned. "I'll take that bet. You're on, old timer."
The men shook hands; Eli took out his pocket watch and began timing it. Several minutes passed, and the woman still worked the horse around the pen. Just as Jack was getting bored once more and his eyes began to drift, Eli spoke up once again.
"So…"
"Yeah?"
"I gots another bet fo ya, boy, if ya willin' ta hear it."
Jack swallowed nervously. "Alright."
"Well, I was gonna ask ya somethin' first."
"Come on, old man. Get to it already."
He nudged his arm playfully and leaned in closer, murmuring in his ear, "So, when are ya gonna join up wit that perdy lil' lady a yours?" He let out the booming, cackling laugh that everyone on the ranch had come to know and love.
Terrified and growing embarrassed, Jack punched the man's arm and whispered harshly, "Shut up, Eli!" He looked about at the fair amount of men that grew curious. Usually when Eli was laughing at something, everyone else wanted to hear it.
"C'mon, boy, it's only ten dolluhs. I betcha you gon fall fo her."
"And I bet you that I won't!"
Eli gave a snicker, looking like a giddy schoolboy who had just discovered a fowl secret. "So ya gonna take up on that bet, then, boy?"
"I haven't shaken on it, nor will I, mister," Jack spat back, looking back at his overseer and the filly with furrowed eyebrows. "That bet ain't worth the hassle."
Eli shoved his shoulder gently with his. "Ah, c'mon, Jack. It's not like I'm bettin' a hundred dolluhs." He offered a callused, inviting hand to him, his smile brightening.
Jack glared down at it with contempt, a furious battle raging within. Goddamn it. This bastard's got me in a bind. "Who's to say I want her, anyway?"
"Oh, I'm bettin' that ya do. In fact, ya might as well gimme it right now." Eli held out an expectant hand and waved his fingers at Jack, smiling gleefully.
"You ain't ever gettin' my money, Eli. You can bet on that, mister."
"We can only be sho if ya shake mah hand right now, boy."
Jack sighed heavily as he shook Eli's hand half-heartedly, feeling a sickening pit swell within his stomach. "You're gonna lose that bet, old man. You'll be the one with a lighter wallet and a shameful heart, Eli, not me."
Eli merely beamed at him. "Oh, we'll see, Mistuh Mawsten. We'll see."
With the deal struck, the men turned and resumed watching the skilled horsewoman work her magic in the round pen with the pinto mustang. Amidst his dread and humility, Jack noticed a change in the filly as she loped around the woman. With her closest ear still turned toward the horsewoman, she lowered her muzzle to the ground twice, licking her lips and making chewing motions.
"There!" the woman cried to Jack. "Right there is submissiveness." Abruptly, she turned around, facing Jack and turning her back to the filly. She smiled knowingly at him and mouthed, "Watch."
The filly slid to a stop. She swung her head toward the woman, ears pricked as she cautiously walked up behind her, bobbing her head down several times to the ground and chewing. The pinto stopped behind her and nudged her shoulder gingerly with her pink muzzle. In reward, the woman slowly turned back around, keeping her gaze away from the filly's blue eyes that sought redemption and friendship. Carefully, she raised her left hand up, letting the horse get several good whiffs of her scent, before petting the pinto's forehead in a circular motion.
The crowd of ranch hands surrounding them applauded and shook their heads, astounded by her success. With a smile, the woman turned and began walking around the pen; the filly followed like a dog.
Jack stared with open-mouthed awe. "My God…"
Eli shared the sentiment, shaking his head. "She really is a hoss whisperuh, I tell ya, boy." He checked his pocket watch and smirked. He nudged Jack's arm and showed him the time. "You owe me a dolluh, Jack, like I done told ya before."
"You'll have to take that up with Bonnie. She has my things."
Eli nodded. "Sho 'nuff, son."
As she led the mustang around the pen, the euphony of clapping died down as she spoke, "You see, gentlemen? Patience, time, and respect is all it takes. There's more than one way to do something, and taking the gentler way is often the better route when it comes to horses." She stopped in front of Jack; the filly stopped as well, nuzzling her hand. With a grin, she petted the horse again graciously. "Good girl, Féileacán." She turned her attention back to Jack. "Your turn, princess."
He blinked. "What? Me? Now, in front of all these people?" His heart became clutched in the icy claws of trepidation; he took a step back from her.
She nodded as she slipped the halter cautiously onto the filly's head. "It's now or never, Jack. You and Sundance need to join up as soon as possible so you can start ground work with him."
He bit down on his lower lip and looked to the side, unable to come up with a viable argument to stall with.
She cocked an eyebrow. "You were watching, weren't you?"
"Oh, he sho was a-watchin' you, make no mistake 'bout that, ma'am!" Eli let out a booming cackle, his upper body trembling from the giddy force, and he slapped Jack's arm with the back of his hand as he turned and walked away, chuckling and guffawing all the while.
Jack watched him go with a seething gaze. That slimy son of a bitch. I'll get him back for that.
The woman watched all of this with a perplexed expression, and she shook her head dismissively at it all and murmured, "I don't even want to know." She turned and led the filly out of the round pen. Once outside, she pushed the horse's rump, urging her to wander off in the corral that they all stood in. "Go on, Féileacán. Go explore. I'm done with you for the day."
The filly warily took a few steps forward, casting uncertain looks back at her human partner.
"Go on, girl. We'll continue tomorrow." She shooed her away.
As if in complete understanding, the pinto swished her black and white tail before walking off toward the water trough for a refreshing drink.
The woman watched her newest pupil wander off with an affectionate twinkle in her eyes. She smiled softly before looking back at Jack and retrieving her things from him. She shrugged on her duster and tugged her hat back on. She looked at him with raised eyebrows and took a sassy stance, her weight on her left leg and her hands on her hips.
"What?" he asked.
"Go get the stallion and join up with him." She held out the lunge line to him
He frowned as he took it from her. His fingers fiddled with the line, and he gave a despairing sigh before heading to where they had contained the palomino. The next ten minutes was spent trying to herd the stallion into the round pen. Jack and the woman, along with four other ranch hands, eventually drove him into the pen. The second he ran through the gate, it was closed and secured.
"Finally!" Jack panted, leaning up against the pen as he tried to catch his breath.
His overseer nodded and panted along with him. "And now…the real work begins." She motioned to the palomino with a tired jerk of her head. "Get in there, Marston. It's time you two joined up."
He held up a hand as he tried to slow his breathing. "Gimme a minute."
"Sure, but as soon as you're back to normal, I don't want you lollygaggin' around anymore, Jack. You've already put this off for far too long as it is."
He averted her piercing gaze.
"Princess, you listenin' to me?"
"I hear you. It's just…Well, I'm…"
"Scared?"
He shot her a nasty look. "No."
"Pssh! Don't lie to me, ya little sunflower. Now put on your big boy britches and go in there and work with him."
"Alright, alright, I'm goin'!" Angrily, he hefted up the lunge line, brought himself up with forced confidence, and opened the gate. He slipped in quietly and closed the gate behind him.
The stallion slid to a stop the second he walked into the pen. The mustang's eyes locked onto his; his nostrils flared and his ears pricked forward. Human and horse sized each other up from opposite ends of the round pen. All around, the ranch hands gathered, watching intently to see which one would initiate the battle of masculinity. Jack glanced at the men, then at his supervisor. His heart fluttered. Swallowing thickly, he looked back at the stallion, shouldered the halter, and gathered the lunge line in his hands.
Okay…Here goes nothing.
He lashed the end of the line at the stallion's rump, attempting to come off as aggressive and commanding as his overseer did when she demonstrated with the filly earlier. He knew that even as he did it, it ended up looking rather ridiculous, laughable even. He felt his cheeks burn as he gathered the rope back up again in his hands. He watched the stallion trot loftily away, only to stop and stand still before him with one ear cocked back, as if to say, "Really? Is that all you got?"
Well, shit. His eyebrows narrowed with forced determination as he threw the rope out at the stallion again.
"That's it, princess," the woman cheered behind him. "Square your shoulders. Look him in the eyes and mean it, boy. You are his leader now, so show him that!"
Her words sparked a flame of tenacity in Jack's chest, and he flicked the rope at the palomino, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. The stallion responded by shying away with a kick and an angry toss of his head.
"Good! Now, get him to run around the pen. Use your rope and your body language to force him around."
Again, he lashed out at the horse, glaring at him in the eyes and taking a commanding step forward.
The horse loped away from him, going around the pen once…before suddenly turning and charging toward him with mouth open wide and ears pinned back flat again his head. Jack barely had time to shy to the side to avoid being trampled. He countered the attack by smacking the horse's side with the rope, making him side-kick powerfully by the tickling touch.
"That's it, boy! Dance with him!" one of the ranch hands encouraged.
Several other men joined in with their own cheers. His confidence building, Jack lashed the rope at the horse again. The mustang loped around the pen. His ears were still flat against his head; his eyes still held a wild, angry look. Every three or four passes, he made the horse change direction, emulating his overseer's technique. Occasionally, he charged at Jack, but the young man would jump to the side and respond with more flicks of the rope. Both horse and man could feel the tension and anger build as time went on.
Half-way around the pen, the palomino suddenly turned and charged, sprinting toward Jack and flailing his front hooves out toward his chest. Jack backpedaled wildly. The stallion reared up high before he drove his front hooves down at the human's head.
"Jack! Get out of there! NOW!" the woman shouted.
He barely had time to turn and dive underneath the fence before the large grey hooves stomped on the ground where he had stood. The ground trembled as Jack crawled underneath the fence to safety on the other side. Behind him, the palomino pawed at the ground. Several ranch hands pulled him up to his feet. Panting, encumbered, and angry, Jack shrugged off their hands and stood up straight, trying to retain whatever dignity he had left.
"Are you all right, Jack?" his overseer asked. She looked him over, checking for any serious injuries.
He averted her concerned gaze and dusted himself off.
"Jack?"
"I'm fine, damn it!" He glared around at the three men who circled him. "Leave me be, all of you!"
"You almost got killed, boy," one of them stated. "Are you sure you're "
"I'm just fine, alright? Now fuck off, the lot of you!"
The men walked away, casting angry glances at the rude young man.
"What the hell was that?" his overseer demanded. She gestured to the men leaving. "They were just worried for your well-being, Jack! You didn't have to be a prick to them!" She put her hands on her hips and gave him an admonishing glare.
Jack looked at her briefly, crossing his arms in response to her aggression. "Why the fuck do you care? And why do they care, for that matter? I'm just the criminal bastard who's slaving away here, so what's all the fuss about me being the center of attention all of the sudden? I've had enough of this bullshit from everyone! I don't need bein' pitied or looked at like a kid."
"Those men were helping you, Jack! She shook her head, appalled. "God forbid people ever help you and be nice to you."
"Well, you sure as hell didn't help me in there when that crazy son of a bitch was trying to trample me."
"You were doin' just fine, as far as I could tell."
He scoffed and glared off into space.
She sighed and ran a hand across her face. "Do you want to try joining up again?"
He snapped his attention back toward her. "After what that fuckin' horse tried to do to me, do you really think I wanna-"
"FINE!" the woman roared, throwing her hands down at her sides. "If you're too much of a chicken shit, then I'll do your job for you, you coward!"
"No, you won't," came a familiar voice off to the side.
Turning away from the start of a nasty stare-down, the two looked over and saw Bonnie walking up to them. Jack felt himself visibly shrink in the presence of the strong-willed woman. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes as she came to stand before them and crossed her arms.
"This is his job, like you said. So, let him join up with the horse. He needs to do this."
"But he almost got killed, Miss MacFarlane!" the woman pointed out.
"That's because he didn't put on his bastard-scowl he usually has on his face." She looked Jack over and shook her head. "What happened?"
Jack waved viciously at the stallion and exclaimed, "He almost killed me! I tried to do just what your friend here told me to do, and the insane animal still tried to run me over. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let him stomp me into the ground like a horse fly?"
She slapped him across the face. "You keep yelling at me like that and I'll throw you into your cell to rot away for all time. Now calm the hell down."
He stood glaring at her, his face stinging. His hands clenched into tight, shaking fists at his sides, but he held his tongue.
"Now, I want you to try again, Jack, and this time, you're going to join up with that mustang. Be a man about it, too. You got that?"
"Yes, ma'am," he growled through clenched teeth. He snatched up the lunge line and halter off the ground beside his boots—he had dropped them in his haste to flee from the horse. With a deep inhale, he opened the gate and stepped back into the pen, feeling like an injured warrior going back into the fray. Despite his wounded pride, bruised body, and raging anger, he walked forward with his chin raised and his shoulders squared. He glanced back at Bonnie and his overseer.
"Go on, princess. Show him who the real boss is."
"And if he tries to kill me again?" he scoffed back.
"Just be your usual, cocky, prick-headed self and you're sure to succeed."
Jack glared at her. "Thanks for the encouragement."
She shrugged nonchalantly. "I do what I can, Jack." Beside her, Bonnie gave an amused chortle.
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Jack turned and faced the stallion. Once again, the stallion stopped and faced him. "Alright, you crazy bastard. Let's dance." He threw the end of the lunge line at the horse with a stronger level of confidence.
The horse spooked and galloped around the pen. Both males stared into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to back down. Jack kept his body square and facing the stallion. No longer would he be pushed around by this animal, or by the terrible hand that life had dealt him. No longer would he be the push-over little boy who let everything walk over him as they pleased. He would stand his ground and let it be known that he was a man worth taking a glance over and be recognized for who he was. And he'd start with this stallion.
All around the pen, the ranch hands, Bonnie, and the woman stared at the bold change in the angry young man. Jack paid no attention to them; his focus was fully on the palomino. The horse would lunge at him every so often, flattening his ears and opening his mouth, but he would turn when Jack took a dominative step forward and threw the line straight at the horse's face. The horse reared several times, taken aback by the young man's declarative leadership, and slowly, the stallion's rebelliousness waned and was replaced by fear. He was growing leaderless, and the only thing around to guide him was the man standing in the middle of the round pen.
And it was then, among the astounded, pious silence, that the stallion finally gave in. He turned his closest ear to Jack. At last, his proud head lowered, and he licked his lips and chewed. Jack turned around, his gaze kept to the ground with the lunge line dangling loosely from his hand at his side. He heard the horse slide to a stop and turn to him. The hesitant, timid hoof falls becoming louder became a sweet medley to Jack's ears. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes when he felt the mustang's soft muzzle caress his hand and nicker questioningly. Jack faced the horse and petted his forelock and muzzle, just as his overseer had done with the filly. He smiled, not believing his success. The horse stood before him quietly before his new leader.
Applause erupted all around him and the stallion. Jack's heart swelled with pride, and he looked around at the men who cheered and gave him accepting nods. It wasn't just his join-up with the stallion, it was the join-up of the people who watched him work and struggle for the past two and a half weeks. Smiling, his eyes fell on Bonnie and her friend. The women nodded and returned the smile. He shared a long stare with his overseer; for the first time, she looked at him as she would a ranch hand, a man worthy of her respect.
Turning, he walked away from the horse, following the well-beaten path the animal had trodden. The palomino fell into step behind him; he stopped when Jack halted before Bonnie and his supervisor.
"Well? What do you think?"
His supervisor smirked. "Very good, Jack. Well done."
"Your father would have been proud of you," Bonnie said.
Jack smiled at them and said, "Thank you." And he meant it for the first time.
The smoke coiled upwards, encasing his head in nicotine heaven. Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd had a cigarette, and now as he smoked alongside his overseer on the front porch of Bonnie's ranch house, it was a glorious end to the day. He stood leaning against the railing, his back resting against one of the posts. He held the cigarette between his index finger and thumb and took a long drag, savoring the taste and enjoying the tingling high he felt in his brain and on his tongue. He let the smoke blow out of his lips with a pleased sigh.
"How's that tastin' for ya, Jack?"
He looked down at her with a grateful smile. "It's tastin' damn good, miss. Thank you."
"Good." She sat in the rocking chair, her boots propped up on the railing beside him. A thick cigar rested in her left hand; the end glowed and spat tendrils of smoke as she wrapped her full lips around it and took several slow puffs. She let the smoke roll lazily out of her mouth afterwards, caressing her face before dissipating into nothing above her head.
Jack watched her, fascinated. Only when she glanced up at him did he abruptly turn and stare out at the plains, making it seem like he was lost in thought. He took another drag and blew the smoke out in a rapid exhale.
Unexpectedly, the woman sighed as she flicked the stem of ash from the tip of her cigar.
Jack looked down at her, an eyebrow cocked. "You all right?"
She looked up at him. "What?"
"Is Your Royal Highness tired after a day of actual hard work?" He smiled slyly with the cigarette in his mouth. "Ya feelin' a little outta shape, lady?"
"Well, seeing as I have to show you how everything's done, I suppose I am, you ignorant little bastard." She shook her head. "Hell, this is a sort of a nice reprieve for me. Still, I'd rather be working alongside the ranch hands and bringing in bounties than guiding you through every little chore. I'm tired of babysitting." She took a reflective puff and looked at him with a sassy flash of her eyebrows.
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, lady. You're enjoying every damn minute of your vacation."
"Perhaps, but I still have to show you how to do your job."
He inhaled deeply on the cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose. "Hey, I was able to do what you asked. Sundance and I are joined up, just like you wanted. I'd say I did a good job."
She laughed. "If you mean by almost getting killed in the process, then yeah, I'd say you've done a good job."
"I held my own against that crazy horse. Sure, it took a couple of tries, but I did what you told me to do." He put his cigarette back into his mouth as he added, "And I think I did quite well for a first-timer."
"Allmen think they're great their first time," she chuckled darkly, eyes ablaze with humor.
He stared down at her. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," she murmured as she put the cigar back into her mouth. She took three strong puffs before letting the smoke coil about her face and slither up into the air.
Her pun stunned him; he never would have guessed she'd joke about such un-ladylike things. But then again, she's far from being a lady. He studied the way her lips held the cigar, how her fingers casually held it.
"Where'd you learn to smoke cigars?"
She glanced at him, her lips wrapped around the cigar. "My uncle," she said around it before taking a long, deep puff, and blowing the smoke out angrily. "Why do you ask?"
"I…It's just that…I've never seen a woman smoke a cigar before. So…did he teach you a lot of other manly things?"
She pretended not to hear him as she smoked.
"Miss?" He took a step closer and looked her over.
She threw him a warning glare, making him take a step back with his hands raised non-threateningly.
"Okay, sorry. I was just askin' a question is all."
"Where'd you learn to smoke cigarettes?"
"My pa used to smoke," he explained, cocking an eyebrow at her sudden hostility, "but I don't smoke as much as he did."
She studied the cigar in her hand. "I see," she said before taking another puff.
"By the way, thanks for this," Jack murmured, holding up the cigarette. He flicked the collecting stump of ash from the tip over the side of the railing. He watched it fall heavily to the dirt, disintegrating into a small grey pile. "It's been quite a long while since I've had one."
"No problem."
He glanced down at her. "Why did you give me this, anyway?"
"The better you behave, the more rewards you receive, Marston."
He scoffed. "A reward system, huh? What am I, a dog?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
He rolled his eyes.
"Your next reward will be the finest whiskey you've ever tasted in your life. It'll go down smoother than a drink from the waterfall in Tall Trees. I guarantee it, princess."
His eyebrows rose at this; an excited grin lit up his face. "Really now?"
She nodded. "But only if you keep up the hard work and do as I say. And if you keep showin' me, and other people, respect."
He shook his head and chuckled. "That'll be easier said than done, miss."
Her lips curved into an amused smirk. "Oh, trust me, I know. You'll be like Sundance was today, just a-fightin' back the whole time until I put you in your place…again and again and again."
"Damn right."
Her long dark hair caught the light of the moon and stars beautifully, reflecting the creamy-white light in its silky, shining blanket. He stared on as she switched her cigar to the other hand. She ran her fingers through her hair before tucking her hand underneath it and draped it over her right shoulder. Her hair cloaked her shoulder and breast, exposing her graceful neck and collarbone.
His eyes fixated on her, taking in as much detail of her as quickly as possible. He took a prolonged inhale of his cigarette to calm his racing pulse. He watched her take three quick puffs before one last, long drag. She closed her eyes as she let the smoke billow out past her partially-parted lips and up to frame her face. Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot, his boots thudding loudly and spurs tinkling. She slowly turned her head and looked up at him. The smoke drifted away, revealing to Jack a perplexed, if not perturbed, look on her face as she narrowed her eyes.
"You get a good look yet, cowboy?"
He faced forward, clenching at the rail with a tense grip. He felt his face flush, and he cleared his throat. He could feel her patronizing gaze upon him.
"God, what is it with men and staring? It's like their eyes are magnetically drawn to a woman's body."
"Hey, I wasn't staring," he retorted, refusing to look over at her. "And men don't do that."
"Bullshit! You were doin' it just now."
"No, I wasn't. I was—"
"Gawking," she finished, glaring up at him. "Now quit that shit before I give you a scar on your neck from my spurs." The moonlight glinted off her spurs as she rotated her feet to show them to him.
He scoffed. "Oh, you and your Mexican tattoo threats. They never get old to you, do they?"
"Hell no."
"…I wasn't staring, Miss…uh…"
"Call me Maddie," she said around her cigar as she puffed.
"M-Maddie?"
She nodded. "Short for Madeline, but don't you dare call me by my full name. If you do, I won't hesitate to clip you with my spurs. Keep that in mind, princess."
He looked away, still in awe. What a beautiful name…
"And yes, you were staring, Marston."
He tossed a hand up in frustration as he faced her. "I've never seen a woman smoke a cigar! That's it!" Fed up with her, he sucked angrily on his cigarette, feeling the soothing rush of tobacco enter him and calm his riled-up nerves. Despite this, he frowned as he looked back down at her. Once again, he was staring. He sighed.
Damn it, Eli…