Author's Note: Marvel owns what it owns, and I own what I own, let's keep it that way shall we? Don't Sue me!

Recommended Listening: Cowgirls Don't Cry by Brooks & Dunn; I Miss you by Blink 182; Me Myself & I by Eazy x Bebe Rexha; Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots.


Cowgirl Don't Cry

Maggie awoke to the sound of her phone buzzing on the ground. She cracked opened her eyes, crusted from tears and aching, and launched herself onto the floor scrabbling for the phone before the caller hung up. Half-blind, she answered. "Last Chance Ranch, this is Magdalene Ramirez speaking." She managed to croak out.

She was greeted with silence, but before she could hang up, she heard the subtle intake of breath. "Hey Mags."

Her heart stopped, and she sat down on the couch. "Sam?"

There was another silence. "Yeah." He said slowly. "Been a while, how you doin'?"

Maggie sighed, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to ease the pounding at her temples. "Bill or Suzanne?"

"Mags."

"I have a hangover and three clients today, just answer the question Samuel Thomas Wilson." She snapped, though she winced as she did a sharp pain shooting through her skull.

"Bill last night, Suzanne this morning," Sam answered flatly.

"Jesus." She fell back against the couch cushions, shielding her eyes with the arm that wasn't holding up the phone. "What time is it now?"

"8:00."

"Fuuckkk." She moaned.

"Don't worry. Suzanne said she'd take care of your morning feed and set up for your first appointment."

"Appreciate it," Maggie said blandly, as she rose, muscles aching, head pounding in complaint. "So to what do I owe this call? As you said...been a while."

"Well. All things being what they are, figured I should check up on you."

"Yeah, thanks for that." She would've rolled her eyes, but her head hurt, so she settled on the sarcastic tone.

"I can not, next time, if you'd like."

"Well. You can do whatever you want. It's not like we ever dated. You know, you were just going to live with me and my husband, your boyfriend, on a fucking farm we were supposed to run together." She snapped out as she scooped up a pair of pants off the floor and started to tug them on. "But now you don't even call to tell me that you're working with Captain America taking down science Nazis. Or, oh, I'm sorry. Was I just supposed to be okay with that?"

There was a long silent pause, and Maggie thought for an instant that he'd hung up, and in Wilson's defense, she would've deserved it. "It was a spur of a moment thing." Sam hesitated as he chose his next words. "Though it is nice to hear that you still care, Mags."

Maggie winced, sinking down on to a sheet-covered armchair, rubbing her forehead. "Sam..." She faltered. The way he'd said it had stung a bit, and now she was blinking back tears. "Of course I care." Maggie exhaled a shaking breath. "I miss you...I miss...us. All of us...together." She bit her lip to try and stop it from trembling.

"I miss you too...miss us...the whole thing. It's hard not to miss it if I'm honest." He said slowly. "How's everything up there at the old place?"

She glanced around, the walls half bare, with exposed wires and sheetrock and framing. The kitchen a wreck, dirty laundry weeks old scattered on the floor. "I...uhhh...the same. You know. routine, stability, familiar surroundings." She said quickly. There was no way in hell she could tell Sam how bad it was, how bad everything had gotten. She couldn't tell him that she was weeks possibly days away from bankruptcy. She couldn't tell him that she was about to lose it all. He obviously had bigger shit to deal with than his former partner's widow.

"Sounds nice." He answered after a moment.

"You should come up and visit," Maggie quipped. She'd asked him multiple times since Riley's death and since he'd left the Air Force to come and visit, to no avail. It was more habit now than anything else. Only now, now she wouldn't want him to come and see her wallowing. Have him see the space, frozen, waiting for him and Riley to come back, waiting for a life that was frankly never going to happen. "I mean, if you can, I understand if you're super busy running around with Captain America and the Super Friends." She added quickly with a little laugh, doing her best to lighten the mood.

"The Avengers? Nah. I'm not that crazy. Doing a favor for Cap'."

"Oh? Like what? Visiting Children's hospitals and charities dressed as The Falcon?" She asked, doing her best to sound pleasant and politely intrigued while pulling off her hoodie and slipping on a tank top and a relatively clean button-down.

"Not exactly." There was hesitance in Sam's voice that made her stop.

"Oh God. Do I want to know?"

"No. Probably not." Sam answered, "But you probably should know just in case..."

"Just in case what? Are supervillains going to come knocking on my front door Sammie?"

There was again a hesitant pause. "Sam?" She asked picking up one of the water bottles from the coffee table and unscrewing the cap taking a sip.

"We're tracking down the Winter Soldier."

She almost spewed her water from her nose. "What the fuck?" She coughed.

"Yeah. Long story."

"Yeah, I'll say. Jeezus Sam. We're talking about the murder cyborg that's been all over the news since you and Captain Nice Ass took down S.H.I.E.L.D., right?"

Sam barely contained a snort. "Yeah. Has some information that Steve needs." Sam explained.

"Oh?" Maggie had to hide a smile. The use of the good Captain's first name was intriguing, but she wasn't about to push Sam on it. Sam wasn't the kind to kiss and tell, least of all if it was a fine piece of red white and blue ass like that. Besides, he'd called her. Obviously, there was something else happening, he needed something. "And what do you and Steve need from me? At least I assume that's what the call is about."

"Okay, I'd like the record to show I did call you because I'm concerned," Sam said quickly.

"Butttt? I mean, that's what's coming next, right? What do you need, Sam?"

Sam paused with a heavy sigh before continuing, "Our guy went off the grid in NYC, that's the last place we've been able to track him to. You haven't seen or heard anything weird, have you?"

Maggie had to keep from snorting. "Like Nazi murder cyborgs with metal arms?" She asked incredulously. "No. Can't say I have. Should I be keeping my eye out all the way up here in bum-fuck-middle of nowhere New York State?"

"Just keeping all the options open. He's defected, so Hydra's not going to be very nice about getting him back."

"I'll keep an eye out and let you know if I see anyone with a metal arm and Hydra buddies coming to break down my door." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Mags."

"I know. Which is what's ridiculous about this situation. I seriously doubt your guy would come and hide out in rural middle of nowhere on an equine therapy ranch. But that being said, you and the good Captain are more than welcome to come and check if you're in the area." Maggie paused. "We're having a cookout tomorrow. For the April birthdays." She said weakly.

"Steve and I are in NYC, I'll see what we can do. No promises though." That's what he said, that's what he always said.

"Yeah. That sounds like a good plan." Maggie sighed.

"I was sorry to hear about Tim. I heard he was having a hard time since Alice passed away." Sam said quietly.

"Yeah." Maggie swallowed hard. "Sam?" She faltered. She wanted to ask, needed to ask, needed to know. Was she making a difference? Was anything she was doing actually helping? Or was she just as ineffectual at helping these people as she was at her housekeeping and ranch management? Sam would tell her. Sam wouldn't blow smoke up her ass, he was never one to sugar coat anything. He was the realist after all, out of the three of them.

"Mags?" Sam called out.

"Yeah. Sorry. Kinda got sidetracked a moment. I need to get going. I have an appointment in half an hour and need to get myself presentable."

"Yeah, me too. I gotta run."

"Duty calls?"

"Yeah, something like that," Sam said.

"Be safe out there, Sammie."

"You too, Mags. Gotta go, love you, bye!" Sam hung up before she could say anything else.

Maggie sighed, putting down the phone, sunk back onto the couch. "The Winter Soldier? Here? On Last Chance Ranch?" She snorted, burying her face in her hands. "Yeah, right."

Which is precisely why you didn't mention 'Scary Matt'? The adult part of her brain asked.

No, because it's just Scary Matt. Besides, even if he is the Winter Soldier, I seriously doubt he'd let the Falcon and Captain Blue Eyes Sexy Pants take him in. The other part of her brain, the stupid and irresponsible part, reasoned.

Maggie stopped herself. There was no way 'Scary Matt' was the guy Sam and Cap' were looking for. This was her hungover sleep-deprived brain running away with itself.

She rose, walking into the kitchen, took the stale coffee from the day before, and took a long draw directly from the carafe. Wincing only slightly, she returned the pot to the machine, pulling a baseball cap and her sunglasses from the rake she'd hung up to hold keys on, and walked out the back door and down the hill to begin her day.

Walking down to the barn, she found Suzanne there waiting for her, coffee cup in hand. "You look like shit, kid." She said, handing Maggie the cup of coffee.

Maggie said nothing, taking the coffee and taking a couple small sips.

"There's a breakfast sandwich for you on your desk. I sent your volunteer out to check the back 40's fence for a breach."

"There's a breach in the fence?" Maggie asked before getting a good look at Suzanne's expression. "Oh." She exhaled slowly.

Suzanne paused, surveying her carefully. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Maggie said shortly.

"You're not alone in this, you know." Suzanne began.

"Can we skip the lecture, please?" Maggie snapped.

Suzanne put her hands up as if in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just wanted to check-in, make sure you're hanging in there."

"I'm fine," Maggie repeated. "And why'd you and Bill have to call Sam? We all know that Wilson is the last person in the world who I'd want to talk to about this shit. If he was so interested in anything that had to do with me, he'd be here. I wouldn't have to find out from the TV that he's working with Captain Fucking America."

Suzanne mercifully said nothing. Maggie was being a child. She knew she was being a child, and if she was honest with herself a brat too. But everything hurt, and she wanted to cry and spend the whole day in bed watching telenovelas while someone stroked her hair and fed her carbs, preferably somehow smothered in chocolate. She certainly didn't want to be mucking out stalls or dealing with Scary Matt, or talking to people, even people she liked.

"Bill told me when the funeral is going to be. Have you made an announcement to the team?" Suzanne asked.

"I was going to do that in a little while. Have some office and bookkeeping things to take care of after this first appointment." She said shortly.

"All right. Just let us know what you need, seriously Maggie. You're not alone in this." Suzanne paused as a vehicle drove up. "I think you're 9:00am is here. I'll let you get to it." She pat Maggie on the shoulder before walking out to her vehicle.

Maggie sighed, downing the rest of the burnt convenient store coffee. Today was going to be hard, but she'd get through it. She didn't have a choice. She tossed the cup in the trash can and walked out to meet her client.

Fortunately, the appointment went smoothly, and with no other pressing matters until the afternoon, Maggie found herself in the office sifting through the backlog of paperwork trying to find her banking book. The breakfast sandwich sat there in her periphery, the object of her growing disdain and ire.

I can feed myself, I don't need Suzanne and Bill and Sam babying me. How dare they fucking call Sam. Sam NEVER calls me unless I'm dying, or he thinks I'm dying. A fucking breakfast sandwich really? I can feed myself. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

She snatched up the sandwich and charged from the office toward the large trash can. Moving so fast she nearly fell headlong into the six-foot wall of muscle and scary that was Scary Matt. "Shit." She swore, stumbling backward.

He stopped, surveying her, but said nothing.

"Hey. I have this for you. Sorry. Running a little behind today." Maggie rushed. She extended the sandwich to him, which he took slowly, a calculated and hesitant edge to his movements.

He nodded, stowing the sandwich away in a pocket of his jacket. "There wasn't a breach in the fence, but there were a few crossbars that were nearly rotted away and needed to be replaced." He said with nearly the same calculated hesitance that he'd just used when taking the sandwich from her. "I took care of it for you."

"Thank-" She cut herself off as a lump formed in her throat. Why the hell was she choked up about that? She'd just about chewed Suzanne's ass for bringing her coffee and breakfast, but now she was getting choked up over this? Well, considering the guy had been on death's door when he showed up and was now fixing shit without being asked, perhaps it was worth feeling a little sentiment over. She coughed to clear her throat before continuing. "Thank you for doing that. You know you didn't have to. You're not obligated. Particularly since you've been working on the roof so diligently."

Matt nodded again. "Thank you for the journal. You didn't have to do that." He said, avoiding direct eye contact while simultaneously working to give her a once over.

"Of course. I had a few laying around the house, figured you might find it useful." She replied crisply.

Did he know? Had anyone told him what was going on? Or was this once over something else entirely? She didn't know.

"I'll get back to the roof." He turned and walked out of the barn and out of her line of sight.

Maggie watched him go. It doesn't matter, I can't focus on Scary Matt. Maggie returned to the office, sinking down at the desk, she did her best to clear away the pile of papers that had accumulated on the keyboard and booted up the old computer. It took it a moment, but she opened the documents and spreadsheets she needed. She also opened the internet browser to her email. She needed to tell everyone. She needed to let everyone know what had happened. It would be easier than fielding a thousand questions and even more follow up on when the funeral and the wake was going to take place.

After everything eventually loaded, she typed out an email and sent it. Closing the page, she hesitated before typing in 'Winter Soldier, Washington, D.C.,' into the search bar. She watched as the page loaded. Shaky video footage and blurry photos popped. Maggie shook her head, closing the web browser. "This is stupid, this is your brain running away with you." She muttered, "If Sam wants to come up here and take a look around for the Winter Soldier, he's more than welcome to it. I have work to do. Maggie sighed, glancing at the mountain of paperwork. She had bigger fish to fry, the good captain's quest for the Winter Soldier would have to wait.

He was back on the roof. He was nearing the end, it would take another day and a half of work, but then he'd be gone. He glanced around the ranch was quiet. Ramirez hadn't bothered to turn on the radio and only came out of the office to work with clients before she retreated back inside. The eerie silence that had descended upon the place yesterday afternoon hadn't lifted. Suzanne had mentioned funeral which meant Tim was dead. That's what he'd heard. Everything made sense and fell into place. It would also explain why Ramirez had been late this morning and looked a little more than just disheveled. He shook his head and tried to focus exclusively on the roof. It was the only thing he was good for at present. The faster you work, the faster you're out of here.

He worked without interruption until mid-afternoon when Mike and Davidson arrived. Davidson nodded in greeting before heading into the office without a word. Mike, however, approached the foot of the ladder and called up. "Hey Matt, a favor?"

A Favor?

"Have a couple picnic benches I need to get out to the back of my truck. If you'd be willing to help me offload them."

"Yeah. No problem." He climbed down from the roof and offloaded both picnic benches.

"Have a few more things to bring by for tomorrow. How have things been around here?" Mike commented as they placed the tables around the barnyard.

"Quiet."

"Yeah. That happens. Ramirez takes all this personally."

He nodded but said nothing. Should he say something? Offer his condolences? He didn't know what he ought to do.

"Mike!" Ramirez emerged from the office, Davidson behind her as they walked from the office. "See you got Matt to help." Ramirez embraced him. Releasing Mike from the embrace, she turned to him, a definite tinge of red around her eyes, her cheeks and face slightly puffy. "Thanks for helping, while I stole Bill away." She flashed a small brittle smile. "I appreciate it."

"Specifics for Tim's wake and service," Davidson interjected, glancing meaningfully between Mike and Ramirez, communicating a private message that he wasn't privy to.

"Anything you want us to do, Ramirez?" Mike asked, obviously picking up Davidson's meaning.

"Let's just focus on the party tomorrow. Bill and I have everything more or less settled for Tim. I'll be sure to let you know." Ramirez said shortly. Her tone was friendly, but her expression said, drop it.

They were all interrupted by the sound of an approaching vehicle. "Oh great, what does he want?" Ramirez growled, her expression stony, her whole body coiled tight, ready to lash out at the first sign of danger.

"You want me to get rid of him, Ramirez?" Davidson asked, voice low, almost deadly, as the man stood up straight, growing a good four inches both up and out.

"No. I'll be able to manage him. Don't do anything stupid. I can't afford the legal or medical bills, stay put." She warned gravely as she walked toward the approaching vehicle.

It was Jack Roberts, and he was with an older gentleman of similar build and appearance. His father, perhaps?

"The hell he bring Senior for?" Mike muttered.

"Insurance," Davidson said flatly, before glancing back at him. "Land developer. Want to commercialize. Junior's got most everyone around her. Ramirez is one of the last hold outs." Davidson supplied for his benefit.

So he's bringing his father to strong-arm her? No. That wasn't it. Davidson had said Insurance. Insurance? Insurance from what?

"Word around town is you scared the shit out of him last time," Mike commented.

"Oh." So word had traveled that he'd intervened. Damn it. Although Mike and Davidson didn't seem to mind, which meant that they knew to some degree that Roberts was dangerous. Roberts was the type to physically and verbally harass someone he thought of as his lesser. He knew the type, all too well. How much did they know? How would they react if they knew what Roberts had done? Of what he'd prevented? Would they be watching as calmly as they were now?

They all watched the exchange between the two and the two men. Her body language was tense but far less so than the last encounter he'd witnessed. Although they were well out of earshot. So none of them could quite make out what was being said between them.

Should he tell them? Warn them that Roberts might try something else? Try something a little more drastic than bringing his father along on a house call? Your only responsibility is to fix the roof and move on. You've already gotten too involved.

"Oh, Good, they're done," Davidson commented dryly as the trio shook hands, and the two men climbed back into their vehicle and drove away. The woman watched them go, waiting until they were out of sight before turning back to face them. Her jaw was clenched, her face grave.

"Everything all right?" Davidson asked, an edge of concern to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"Yeah. We're good. I have to inside and make a few phone calls if you need me holler."

They all watched her go before Davidson turned to Mike. "All right. Let's bring the gang in." He paused turning to him. "Guess you should get back to that roof."

He nodded, and they went about their separate tasks. They were worried, but it seemed that Ramirez didn't want them to worry, wouldn't let them worry, even to her own detriment. She hadn't told them about what had happened that day between her and Roberts. Should he? It's not really any of my business. Besides what difference would it make anyway


We finally got to Sam! I love me some Sam Wilson. This one was on the shorter side of things, but I still love seeing Mags and Sam interact. Let me know what you thought! R&R! Until next time, Happy Reading!