From the Ring

Her step out of the stagecoach was done without any aid, only her hands reaching to the mid-length of her sapphire skirt to give a slight lift of all the underlying layers to prevent a toe from landing on a hem, and with a swish from front to back, both feet found the dirt. Once settled on the ground, her lace-clad fingers rose to smooth out an imaginary wrinkle as her eyes gave a thorough scrutiny of her surroundings, the sniff of dissatisfaction the finishing line of both her gaze and her hand-ironing.

Of course she had seen them. They would have been impossible to miss. They stood together, their boots not far from a portion of the house that must have been considered a porch, but their eyes weren't on the coach, the team or even gawking at a flock of geese that was passing over. They were observing her. That was all right. After all, she would be giving them a thorough look-over too. And since there was no reason to walk a different way, she gave her chin a slight lift and her skirt another flounce and then walked up to them, the taller one receiving her longest stare.

He was cleaner. That was about where the differences beyond physical appearance were drawn. The other, she noted, being completed with a honey-colored eyebrow rising, must have had enough dirt on him to scrape into a pot to plant a couple of marigolds in it. The sweat stain on his hat made her shudder, and she couldn't help but wonder what kind of mop was hidden underneath. She could see the color, all right, but if the man's hat looked like it did, exactly how wet did the locks get? She kept the cringe from her face as she switched her gaze back to the cleaner, the quick drift returning to the other as the study of their appearance was complete. Homely? No, neither man could be defined as such, especially where the bluest hues were concerned, but they looked like… Dare she think it? …rough-necked cowboys.

"Can I help you, Miss?" Said the tall one, and she noted the smooth dialect. Educated. That was a plus.

She gave the slightest nod, her throat producing a swallow to make her own education show. "You must be the Sherman brothers."

"Well, I'm Slim Sherman, all right, but this is…"

"No, no. Don't speak." She waved her hand in front of Slim, her eyes shifting from dark hair to light, but as she released an exaggerated sigh, neither man could decide which one had received the last look. "I guess you'll have to do."

"Do for what?" Slim asked, his glance searching for the one by his side, and since Jess' blue was already seeking his, the connection was almost immediate, but along with the stare came a shrug from his partner's shoulders.

"Why, getting married, of course," she answered, her tone matching her eyes, doubly declaring her astonishment that her purpose of being there wasn't obvious from the start.

"Getting married!" The exclaim could have ended with a snap, but from surprise, and more than a little alarm, Slim's lips couldn't stay together. "Now look, Miss, what's this…"

"Well, if I must explain in detail," she said with a rather annoyed air.

"That would be nice." Slim nodded, his arms coming up to fold across his chest.

The eye-roll was done with perfection. "My father is Clayton Pardue. He wants me to wed into a family that meets his approval. He mentioned that his friend Matthew Sherman had two boys that lived on a ranch in Laramie. Well, I aim to marry one. Now, aren't you going to invite me in, or do I have to stay out in this dreadful sun that will do nothing but bake my skin into a crisp? A bride shouldn't have a peeling nose, you know."

"You," Slim started, his hand leaving his frame to point a finger to the coach, wanting to insist that she go right back where she came from, but her piercing gaze silenced what wanted to come out, and switched to the invitation instead. "Feel free to go inside."

"Thank you," she replied, her lower layers getting another rise as she took a forward step, but then her body turned, and she nodded toward the coach. "Please bring my things in."

There was no reply, not even a single utterance until her flouncing attire went into the house, and at the door's closure, Slim and Jess' gazes swept away from where she disappeared and then landed on each other.

"Well?" Jess let the word hang, his mouth daring to curl upward, while Slim's was set in a firm line.

"Well what?"

"Nothing. I reckon we better get her things before she pushes the shotgun through the window and loads both of our hindquarters with buckshot."

Slim looked up to the top of the coach that was loaded from front to back with trunks and cases. "She travels light."

"A woman's gotta take everything when she plans on getting married."

"How would you know?" Slim asked as Jess climbed to the top of the coach and sailed a valise through the air, barely getting caught by Slim's hands. "Hey, watch it."

"Aw, come on, Slim, don't get nippy. I know she's got herself a bad attitude and all, but don't let her kinda brand rub off on you before we get to know her better."

"Who says we're going to get to know her better?"

"You did."

"Huh?"

"You invited her to stay, didn't you?"

Slim sighed, his head taking on the motion of a nod. "Well, maybe so. But I think she would've walked right past us into the house even if I would've said otherwise."

"Yeah, I reckon. Who is she, anyway, Slim?"

"Darned if I know."

"You mean you don't know her or her pa, what was it again? Clayton Pardue?"

"Yeah." Slim nodded, the trunk that Jess was passing his way making a grunt form in his chest as he lowered it to the ground. "The name's kind of familiar. Seems that Pa talked about a friend named Clayte. Pardue might've been the last name. Had no idea Clayte had a daughter, though, if Clayte's the same man, that is."

"Probably a nickname," Jess said, chucking the last crate to Slim, and once it was in his partner's hands he landed on the ground beside him. "Well, it's kinda obvious that she don't know the Sherman's beyond the name either. Otherwise, she wouldn't've mistook me for Andy."

"I suppose so."

"And since I ain't a Sherman, and Andy's too young anyway, even if he wasn't off learning outta every book St. Louis throws at him, then I reckon that lets me off the hook." Grinning wide, Jess slapped his hand on Slim's shoulder. "Congratulations, Slim."

"Now wait a minute," Slim said, following Jess toward the porch, his outstretched hand meeting up with Jess' arm before his partner could swing the front door wide. "I'm not going to marry her."

"Sure, Pard," Jess answered, the grin unable to diminish as they made entry, but it did flicker slightly in reverse when he leaned into Slim's ear. "I'd like to see you tell her that."

"Oh, there you are," she said as she walked out of the bedroom, her face held in such a position as if she had smelled something foul. There were a pile of dirty socks in the corner, but if they reeked, neither man ever paid notice. "Well, where are my things?"

"In a stack outside," Jess answered, his thumb going toward the door to serve as his point, but then his fingers rose upward to remove his hat.

"It's in less disarray than I expected," she answered, her eyes looking at his hair, slightly curled, without the sweat plastering it to his forehead, but with the hat and its salty band being so close, she didn't desire to run her fingers through the tousles. Seeing the confusion etched into the hard lines of his face, she waved a hand along with her head. "Never mind."

"I'm sorry there ain't no frills around." Jess drifted his hand in a point that spanned the room. "As you can see, what with two bachelors like we are, there ain't no woman's touch."

"I highly doubt that would change it much." She had already slid a finger along the mantelpiece, the dust that attached to her glove then getting a slap to drop the miniscule particles to the floor. But that wasn't the only thing unappealing about the room. In the short few minutes that she had been in the house she had surveyed it all. All one-hundred square-feet of it. Or so it seemed that small.

Her father had specifically stated the Sherman's were ranchers, and to her, that meant a fine house with plush settees, carpet, drapes that cascaded to the floor, and fine china to adorn a lengthy table. This was, well, as bluntly as it could have rolled off of her tongue, crude. And she was afraid the men that lived in it were more of the same. After all, what was the word that Sweatstain used, if it could be called a word? Ain't. She gave an outward shudder.

"I reckon we ain't had the proper introductions," Jess said, the smile he allowed to grow would have made any other woman's face turn into light, but not this one. "Your name?"

She reached for the extended hand, but her fingers would only touch the black-clad tips. "Melody Pardue."

"Kinda pretty, I'd say. Kinda like you," Jess said, casting a quick glance at Slim whose eyes were, like his had been, attached to the girl. The obvious stare was at her figure, which was cut rather nicely with her tightly laced corset, but it could also be noted that she would have looked rather fine without one, too. She had the appearance that any man would notice, but if any man would actually want all that went with it, that was yet to be decided. "I'm Jess Harper."

"Wait. So you're not..."

"Nope."

"Well, that's a relief." Melody sighed as if she were unloading one of her luggage pieces off of her back. "You might not be half-bad to look at, but you're just so uncouth. I just couldn't imagine liv… Well, excuse me for exposing my thoughts, Mr. Harper. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of this traveling dress. My luggage, Mr. Harper?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Jess said, his foot nearly taking a stumble along with his words as he made aim for the door. "The coffee oughta still be hot from breakfast. Help yourself. Come on, Slim, I ain't got the stamina to cart all that stuff in by myself."

The door closed behind them, but even though their strides had taken a swift exit out of the house, they both came to an abrupt stop when there was no longer a stagecoach sitting behind Melody Pardue's mountain of luggage. Slim put a pair of hands against his hips and gave a slow sigh. "I guess we forgot about Charlie."

"It ain't gonna hurt him to switch the teams just once. I reckon we've got more going on than he's gonna be going home to."

"Probably."

"Hey, Slim." Jess put a hand on Slim's arm before his partner could bend to reach the closest valise. "What'd she call me?"

"Uncouth."

"Dadgummit, Slim, I can hear. What does it mean?"

"Uncivilized, uneducated, course, bad mannered, things like that."

"I reckon she ain't all that wrong, but how come when it came outta her mouth, I kinda felt insulted?"

"I don't know, Jess." His shoulders rose in a shrug as his eyes took a walk toward the house, certain that he didn't miss the quick fall of the curtain and the face that was behind it. "Your uncouthness might've given you a clear pass if your name didn't, but I think I've got a problem. A big, big problem."

.:.

"Matthew." Her voice drifted out of the kitchen, but neither man seated in front of the fireplace moved at the sound until the repeat came with an irritated twist.

Jess stretched the folded newspaper outward to tap against Slim's arm. "She's calling you, Slim."

"Huh? Oh. Right." Slim pulled himself out of the chair, his steps slow, and once contact was made with the kitchen, he stopped to lean against the wall, not wanting to get too close to her ruffles. "What do you need?"

She took a step closer anyway, and the bottom of her skirt touched his boots. "I wanted to ask you if you found the place for the new house yet."

"What new house?"

"Why, the one we'll be living in." She waved a wooden spoon around the room. "You don't think I'll be a happy wife in this place, do you?"

Slim couldn't hold the heat away from his tongue, and it stretched farther than his words as it tinted his cheeks. "My ma seemed to do very well."

"I'm sure it served its purpose twenty years ago, but not anymore. I've been here a week, and since I can't make do as a single woman, how can I make do once we're married?"

"You know, Melody, I never did say we were going to get married."

"Of course we are." She looked at him with wide eyes, the blush of anger forming, but then her mouth gave a little twitch. "Oh, I get it. You want to be a gentleman and ask me first. That's sweet."

"Well, that usually is the proper way, but there's something else that's a necessary ingredient in marriage. Don't you think we should be in love first?"

"It's stirring in my heart," Melody said, her hands beginning to slide up his chest. "What about yours?"

Trapped against the wall, he could take his back no further, and while her fingers straightened his collar, her mouth sought his. He couldn't just lift his head away, could he? That would be so abrupt. And rude. But, why kiss the girl when he had no interest? Slim parted his lips to speak, but whatever words would have been delivered were immediately forgotten when they were brushed with hers, and then the gentle touch became more fervent, bringing Slim's arms to wrap around her waist.

The pull apart was done with both sets of eyes closed, but once she felt his breath on her cheek, her lashes fluttered open to catch the flickering of his blue. "See?"

"I, uh..." Slim incoherently mumbled as she tapped his arm, motioning him toward the table.

"Dinner's almost ready. Have a seat, Darling."

Jess whistled under his breath as he stood, his steps the slowest he had ever taken to the table as that was the pace his partner took, making both men's backsides slap their chairs in unison. "Dad-gum."

"That didn't mean anything," Slim said, giving his throat a thorough clearing.

"Uh-huh," Jess answered, his sarcastic tone showing also in his nod. Both sound and movement went still when Melody set the meal in front of them and then reached for the coffee that had already been placed in the table's center, pouring a full cup for each place setting.

"I'll get another pot going in case you want refills."

"Just goes to prove that looks ain't everything," Jess said, watching out of the corner of his eye as Melody walked back to the kitchen with coffeepot in hand. He lifted his cup for a second sip in case the first go around was a mistake, with the sour thoughts in his head being passed to the drink, but no, the coffee was just as rank as the first swallow. "You coulda picked a girl that could cook."

"I didn't pick anyone." The hoarse whisper snapped off of Slim's tongue as he pushed the full plate farther away from him. "She picked me, remember?"

"You coulda said no."

"Like you would have?"

"Well. I reckon if I were in your boots, I mighta chose to run the other direction instead."

"I'm sure you would be. Fast and fearful. But she'd still be right behind you. I can hardly take a step and she's..."

"Matthew." She slid her hand along his shoulders before finding her seat at the table. "Are you not going to eat? I made the roast especially for you."

"Oh, of course, Melody. I'm sure it's... going to be delicious." Slim held the fork of overcooked meat to his lips and then quickly sought Jess. "Come on, Jess, won't you join me?"

"I reckon I'm gonna start dieting," Jess answered, patting his hand against his flat stomach. "I've been feeling kinda fat and lazy lately. So much so that I reckon I'm gonna skip chow and go turn in."

The bunkhouse was stuffy when he entered, making a prompt lift of the window beside his rumpled cot. Jess sat down on the edge, his hand fishing for a wad of jerky he had left under his pillow, and as he lay down, a large piece went between his teeth. He had just put the remaining chunk back in its hiding place when he heard the stomp, and giving a slight nod of his head at Slim's approach, Jess settled into the bedding to find sleep. But Slim didn't come into the room quietly to aid Jess' slumber, for his lips were working in an inaudible repeat.

"You ain't mumbling loud enough, Slim. I can't make out a single complaint."

"That woman." Slim's boots hit the floor with a softer thud than what his voice pitched.

Jess raised his head from the pillow far enough to find his partner's face above him. "I figured that was the subject. What'd she do now?"

"Everything! She had me in there rearranging furniture, all the while telling me how wonderful our new house is going to be. She wouldn't even listen to me when I said I couldn't afford to put up one wall. My head hurts just as bad as my stomach. I just don't know what to do!"

"You're the man of the house, Slim. Go set things straight with her. Better yet, do what you shoulda done the first day. Send her packing."

"You're right, Jess, I am the man of the house." His boots returned to his feet with a double slap against the floor and as his hand swung the door wide, he took a deep breath, the defeat taking control before he had even begun, until he got a vocal push from Jess.

"Don't go soft. Just go."

That's when the door slammed, the stomp retreating back to the house, and Jess went to sleep with a smile on his face.

.:.

The sound of the bunkhouse door rattling its closure brought him out of sleep, the morning's light dim enough that he had to blink a couple of times to see, but once focus was complete, Jess saw Slim's tall frame coming swiftly toward him and Jess leapt out of bed. "What's wrong?"

"Help me, Jess."

"I reckon by the look on your face this is about Melody." Jess waited until Slim nodded before continuing. "I thought you were gonna give her what for last night and tell her to go home."

"I was, but, well, I can't do that anymore, Jess. It's too late."

A smile wanted to form at the blast of the thought going through his skull, but the shock was too strong, and Jess put a finger that he wouldn't have dared tell anyone that it was shaking when it rammed into Slim's chest. "Too late! You mean you..."

"No!" Slim's shout made him jump backward, but Jess took the full step with him. "I don't mean anything of the kind. I just, somehow I..."

"You what? Come on, Slim, spit it out. It can't be that bad if it ain't what I thought it was at first."

Slim lowered his head, his hand searching for the back of his neck to rub it, and why he couldn't find it the first time he couldn't understand, but once the fingers found flesh, he gave it a hard slap instead. And it was his head that he struck. "I proposed to her."

"Now that puts you in a fine kettle," Jess said, his hand coming away from Slim's chest to form a fist that pounded against his thigh. "And I reckon being the good fellow that you are, you'll wind up doing just that. She's probably got the date set and all."

"Next Saturday."

"Dad-gum. At least out here in the bunkhouse I can get away from her for awhile. But if you move in the bedroom with her, then I'll have no choice but to come back in to bunk in the house. Now that she's got you lassoed, next thing she'll do is go on and educate me. Doggone your hide, Slim. What'd you go and propose to her for?"

"I didn't want to Jess, I really didn't. We were talking last night, and it just came out. I don't know what it is about her but she's..."

"Trouble," Jess interjected with a hard rock spewing out of his mouth.

"That, too. But she has a way to spin a man around and around until he's so dizzy he doesn't know what he's saying."

"You musta been more than dizzy to ask her to marry you. Dad-gum, what am I gonna do with you?"

Slim's hands found Jess' shirt, and giving the collar a squeeze, the desperation shown in his eyes. "Save me, Jess."

"How'm I gonna do that? You said it yourself. It's too late. You're engaged."

"I don't know." Slim dropped his hands back to his sides, the sigh as heavy as the burden he felt on his back. "But I wish I had all of your characteristics. She sure was turned off by you real fast."

"She was, wasn't she?" Jess nodded, his scoundrel smile taking shape inside of his cheeks. "All right, Slim, I'll save you from the ring she's got waiting."

"What're you aiming on doing to me? Shoot me? Because that's about what it's going to take to get me out of this."

"Nah. Better than that. I'm gonna make you the most dadgummed, dirtiest, foul-mouthed fellow that she's ever seen. You'll make me look like a church-going saint."

"Hey, that could work," Slim said, his own smile starting to grow, but then it quickly faded as he shook his head. "But wait, what if this backfires and she wants to reform me?"

"She wont. She's going to run right into another set of waiting arms."

"Yours?"

"Of course not. You know who I ran into in Laramie yesterday?"

"I'm in no mood for guessing. Just tell me."

"Tudor Sherman. He said he's gonna be in town for a coupla weeks."

"That stuck-up snob? He's no kin, but it's still a shame to share the name with him. He's... Wait. Jess you're brilliant. He's perfect."

"I reckon. Now let's get started."

.:.

Slim stood in front of the bunkhouse mirror, but his eyes were more focused on Jess' reaction than what was being spoken in his reflection. "How do I look?"

Jess gave a short sniff and wrinkled his nose, the expression lingering on his face after he shook his head. "I reckon in your case it's more in how you smell. The answer to both. Awful."

Slim put his hands against his torn vest and then gave a stout pat, the dust coming upward in a cloud. "Good."

"I caught a look at the dress she picked out for your date in town and side by side with you, you're gonna be twice as bad."

"I'd rather it be thrice," Slim said, pulling another inch of his shirt tails out of his belt line. "Jess, do you think this is going to work?"

"Slim, what'd I stay up all night training you for if you ain't gonna remember what you learnt? You gotta talk bad or it won't."

"All right. Jess, do you think this is gonna work?"

"You've gotta good chance. If it don't, then we can always try running for it."

Slim shook his head, his mouth at its grimmest. "I don't think there's a far enough place to hide in."

"I reckon. Well, Slim, if you don't want her seeing you too soon, you better get riding."

"Right." Slim slapped his hat on his head, the dirt thick enough that it was clearly visible as it showered the floor. "You'll get her in town all right?"

"I admit it's tempting to take all the backwoods trails and accidentally bump her outta the wagon somewhere along the line, but I'll get her to the diner on time."

"Thanks, Jess."

"Thank me again when you're free and clear."

"I'll do more than that," Slim said, his stride taking him out the bunkhouse door. "If I get to be free and clear."

.:.

"All right, Slim." Jess pointed through the window at the purple frock that could be seen even at his outside position. "She's seated at the back table. Tudor's swapping tales with Mose next door, so I don't gotta push too hard to get him in this direction. Just get her running."

"I'll try."

"You can do it, Slim. Now get in there and do your worst." Jess placed his back against the wall when Slim entered, only allowing his eyes to go with his partner, but he wished he could have been at the next table over, for a spectator's position would have been rich right about then.

"Sorry I'm so dang-blasted late, Melody," Slim said, bending his head to make an attempt to kiss her cheek, but she pulled so far back, that his lips could only connect with air. "I reckon I shouldn't've took the extry hour to mark our foundation. Wait'll you see it. The porch'll span half'a the house an' oversee the swampy end of the lake. More skeeters on that side, but it's a heck of a lot shallower for dipping in. Iffen you wanna come out tomorra, I'll show you where the bedroom'll be. 'Course you'll have to use your imagination some, but you oughta be able to figure it all out outta the lines I drawn up."

"Matthew..." Her hand had risen to cover her mouth halfway through his explanation, but now that it was her turn to speak, the fingers were still fluttering over her lips. "I... I mean... Your voice! What happened to you?"

"It's Slim to you, Mother."

Now the hand came down in a slam against the tabletop. "Mother!"

He stuffed a whole slice of bread into his mouth and worked it around with his teeth as he spoke. "Ain't that what all married men call their wives?"

"Why... why I don't, I don't think so."

"Well, I will." Slim swallowed, running his tongue along his mouth and then propped both elbows onto the table. "Kinda endearing, ain't it?"

"But... but... Matthew..."

"Dad-gum, Mother. Don't make me repeat it all night. It's Slim."

"Slim, I mean. I thought you were, so, so educated."

Slim shrugged, giving his nose a rough snort. "Oh, that. Now that we're gonna get married, I reckon I don't hafta impress you no more, so I thought I'd go back to the way I usually am."

"This is how you usually are?"

"Sure 'nuff."

"But, but you're worse than Mr. Harper. You're filthy and illiterate and those manners are equal to a hog, and my gracious, what is that smell?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Betwixt mapping out the house, I delivered a calf that landed right in my lap. And then I decided to jump in the crick to get warshed off. I thought I'd gotten the gunk all off, but I reckon my nose's just done gone blind to it. I won't be like this every day. Just, you know, every other day."

"Oh, no." Her head was in a continuous shake, and where her cheeks had been a blossom full of color before, now they were a pasty white. "I don't think this is going to work."

"What're you saying, Mother?" Slim reached an arm outward to wrap around her shoulders. "Ain't we gonna get married?"

"I don't ... I... I think... I need some air."

Slim stood up to follow Melody as she began her flee, his eyes switching to the window with a heavy dose of hope sitting on his middle that Jess was in position with Tudor. Getting closer to the door, Slim didn't have to change the emotion into concern that his partner was absent, for he saw the bob of the black hat and knew Jess was ready.

Outside, Jess' hands were at Tudor's back, and then as soon as Melody's frantic swish of purple exited the diner, the push was given, and man and woman collided.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, her face immediately taking on a softer hue as she took a step back and observed the man in front of her, his eyes as lively as the suit that he wore. "Pardon me."

"I am the one to apologize," Tudor said, his attention full of her femininity. "Although I do not feel all that sorry now that we have met."

Jess took a forward step, his shoulder barely brushing Melody's to gain her gaze. "Allow me to introduce you two. Melody Pardue, this is Tudor Sherman."

"Sherman? Is he a..."

"He's a real Sherman all right," Jess said, running over her words that he knew would have questioned the relation between Tudor and Slim. "He ain't a rancher, but he dresses in these kinda suits all the time. And he went to college in the east. I reckon you can't get more educated than that. One more thing. He smells kinda nice, too. Don't you think?"

She leaned closer, her nose drawing in a short draft of air. "I do."

"Save that phrase for later," Jess said, giving the second Sherman a nudge with his hand to take a closer step to Melody. "What do you say, Tudor? She everything that I said she was?"

Tudor straightened his striped tie and then held out his arm for her to take. "And then some. Would you join me for dinner, Miss Pardue? I would be most delighted to get to know you better."

"Please call me Melody," she said, taking hold of his arm.

"I will do that. Hopefully forever." Taking a wide step around Slim, Tudor led the puff of purple and the woman that was in it back inside the diner, and if an eavesdropper got close enough, a proposal and its acceptance would have been heard before the night was over.

"Well." Jess folded his arms across his chest. "I reckon that's a job well done."

"And I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks, Pard."

"Hey, it wasn't just you I was saving. I couldn't've stomached it either."

"Yeah." Slim pulled the bandana away from his neck and gave his face a wipe. "I'd offer to buy you a steak, but I don't think they'll let me back in there. I don't know how you do it, Jess. It must be difficult to be you."

"Hey, watch it, Slim." Jess' fist formed to its tightest as he waved it close to Slim's chin. "Or your second lesson on how to be me will be how to properly put a fist in a man's face."

"Oh, no." Slim shook his head as he motioned with his hand toward the diner. "I was just saved from the ring, I don't need to get rung."