Maka nudged her heels into the gelding to make him lope.
The faster pace was exhilarating. She wanted to go faster.
Soul was a little ways ahead of her and she'd be damned if she let him control the pace.
She kicked a little harder and gave Kippy his head so he could really stretch his strides.
They swept over the sea of tall grasses, parting them like ripples in a pond. The ground churned up by the gelding's hooves smelled of morning mist, fresh grass, and damp earth.
They sailed past an unsuspecting Soul who had pulled up to waiting for them.
Maka let loose a wild laugh as they passed him.
She laughed because of the look on his face and she laughed for the sheer joy of letting go.
She felt free and alive. She had greatly missed the feel of riding.
It had been far too long since she had been in the saddle, not since she was forced to sell the last of her horses to pay for her father's mounting debts.
Soul spurred his horse forward to catch up to her, but she leaned forward in the saddle as kippy found his next gait.
She was the wind itself.
The air tore at her hair and clothing, and made her eye water at the sting.
If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was a bird. She was flying high above in the endless sky, not a care in the world.
Surprisingly Soul quickly pulled his gelding up next to hers and matched her speed.
Maka watched him from the corner of her eye. The man could ride; he and his horse moved in perfect rhythm. She'd grown up watching English gentlemen ride, but none of them ever commanded a horse like Mr. Evan's did.
"Do you even know where you're going?!" Soul yelled above the sound of their horses thundering across the prairie.
Maka tossed him a cheeky grin and pulled her horse up to a slower pace before she came to a complete stop.
"No idea." She breathed.
Her hair had come loose and her cheeks felt flushed, but the pure exhilaration of flying had been worth it.
Soul cracked a grin at her then spun his horse to the north. "Follow me Kid."
If the air hadn't already been knocked out of her Maka probably would have gasped.
Wonder of wonders, the man was capable of smiling after all.
They rode a fair bit away from the ranch before their horses found a comfortable side-by-side gait. Soul pointed out a few salient landmarks, then halted his mount at the peak of a gentle hillock.
Maka had to not only stop Kippy, but struggled to get him to backstep. Her success felt good, though, and Soul's slight smirk of a smile was ample reward.
They sat there as Soul gazed off at the horizon. His thoughts obviously elsewhere.
Maka took the opportunity to study him more closely.
His eyes were definitely crimson. His hair needed a decent trim as the edges looked uneven. His shirt was frayed at the collar and cuffs, too.
Slung casually over his hip sat a grey barrel gun with a polished wooden handle.
"Do all cowboys carry guns on their hips and have shoot outs?" Maka asked after a moment of silence.
Soul grunted at her question, considering how to best answer. "I reckon most cowboys carry guns."
He scratched his head in thought, making his hair stand up wildly.
"But we don't just go around shooting people. We carry them for personal protection from wild animals, rogue Indians and lawless folk."
"Indians!?" Maka shrieked rather a little too high pitched.
"There are Indians around d here?!" She looked around wildly for feather wearing, ax toting savages.
"Don't worry, there haven't been any around lately." Soul said with a small chuckle. "Not with the Texas Rangers camping out near by."
"That's a shame, I'd truly love to see one." Maka said with a pout.
Soul eyed her suspiciously, but kept his mouth shut.
He hoped to God that this fancy pants kid never got his wish.
The rest of the day was spent in easy silence.
They rode to the north, crossed a shallow stream and followed it back to the east for a ways.
The babble of the creak was a soft lull, lost in the infinite sea of whispering grass.
The prairie was so beautiful and also terribly lonely, all in the same breath.
Flat miles of olive sage and wind-ruffled grass. But the buttes, which had been but blurred humps in the distance, were now suddenly upon them.
It was like the quickening swell of an ocean wave, the way the plains rolled into ridges studded with yellow pines and dipped into coulees choked with brush.
Maka couldn't believe so much land could belong to just one person.
Her uncle might not live like a lavish man, but his wealth in land was astounding.
"Where are all the cows?" Maka queried, wondering why she hadn't seen a single one yet.
"They're in the south 40 right now, we rotate them from different sections as the seasons pass. It keeps them from eating all the grass down." His voice hovered on judgmental, like it was a common knowledge occurrence.
How was she to know though?
Maka couldn't help but feel that she had a lot to learn about ranching.
She had spied the little library in her uncle's home just this morning, maybe she could find some books on the subject there? She needed knowledge, otherwise her uncle, Mr. Evabs, and all the other cowboys would never come to respect her.
"Lets stop up ahead and let the horses rest a bit before we head back." Soul said, bringing Maka out of her despairing thoughts.
Pulling Kippy up next to his mount they stopped under a small stand of interesting trees.
The trunks grew in great twisting arcs and sharp thorns sprouted from limbs. Long green beans hung in clumps, hidden high above in the spring foliage.
Maka had read a book once about dragons and these trees reminded her of it.
Spikes, scales, and hellfire.
It was not a tree she would ever consider climbing.
Though it was only spring, the sun was shining with great intensity so the shade from the strange trees felt nice.
Maka resisted the urge to ask her grumpy companion more about the exotic trees, fearing he would shame her again with those steely eyes.
She would remember to ask Tsubaki about them later when she returned to the house.
Soul leaned forward in his saddle and patted his horse's neck as they rested.
Maka couldn't help but notice how magnificent his horse was.
She hated to admit, but was a very accomplished horseman. She also noticed that his body and the horse's seemed to blend as one, since his trousers and the horse's coat were almost the same shade of light brown today.
"What are you gawking at?" he asked, his eyes moving to hers.
His words jolted her out of her perusal, but with her usual candor, Maka informed him, "You look like Pan."
"Pan?"
"In Greek mythology. He was the god of herds. He's half man, half—well, not goat. Horse, in your case."
Soul's brows crooked.
I'm babbling, Maka realizes and clears her throat. For a fleeting moment, she tries to be silent, but Soul's strange eyes sets her off into an explanation.
"There are creatures in other cultures' myths, legends, and tales. Satyrs have the top half of a man, and the waist joins where the neck of a beast meets the body. With your trousers and the horse's coat so similar in color, the likeness is remarkable."
He gave her a heated look. "Kid, I'm going to lay things on the line with you, you need an education in just about everything except useless book learning. That kind of knowledge is likely to get you into real trouble."
Maka gritted her teeth in frustration. "What makes you the authority on what's useful and what's not? Knowledge is knowledge. Just because my knowledge doesn't pertain to cows you deem it unfit? You've probably never read a book in your whole life. So why are you judging me so unfairly? "
His eyes flashed life knives and a slow growled rumbled in his throat.
"First of all kid, don't you ever use that tone with me again. If you ever show disrespect like that again I'll take out behing the woodshed, bend you over my knee and tan your hide something fierce. I don't care how old you are, if you act like a child, then you will be treated as one. Respect is everything around here and if you don't have it we will teach it to you."
Maka felt her cheeks burn at the thought of laying his hand on her rear.
No man had ever been so forward with her.
"Secondly, you insulted my own learning. Just because I work outside for a living doesn't mean I'm not educated. And for your information you called me a satyr. For your enlightenment, that creature happens to be insatiable. Greek mythology states he lusts after anything in a skirt and exercises no restraint. I could take real exception to your characterization of me."
Maka thought her face couldn't be any redder, but she was wrong. Even her ears burned.
Revelry. Pan was known for his revelry, but lasciviousness? Dear mercy, how had she forgotten about that part?
She had essentially, without knowing, insinuated that he was a common rake.
It was bad enough she had called him uneducated, but proclaiming him a promiscuous man... well that was just an unfortunate turn of the tongue.
"I- I beg your pardon, I didn't mean it." Maka said weakly, her head spinning.
"Growing up privileged made a freak of you. Unless you do a lot of learning fast, the boys in the bunkhouse are gonna eat you alive. Or worse yet, something out here will get you first. You have to learn kid."
"I've proved I can ride."
"Stick to riding. The way your hips sway when you walk, you look like a girl."
Cold terror washed over her. "A girl?"
"Knew that'd upset you. I'm of a mind to strap a holster around you to weight you down a mite. Between that and you using your butt instead of your thighs to move those nubs you call legs, that ought to solve the problem."
"Really!" The man had absolutely no class.
"Really," he drawled. "The difficulty is, you'll be fool enough to have a bullet in each chamber and blow off a few toes."
"Give me your pistol." She extended her hand.
"You aren't going to shoot me, are you?" Soul reached for his holster.
"Believe me , the temptation is there. Nonetheless, I'll refrain from that and give you a demonstration."
He still looked dubious as he handed her the pistol, but Maka decided to take the opportunity to prove she wasn't completely helpless.
"Is the barrel true on this?"
"Absolutely."
"See that knob on the tree stump over in the clearing?"
"Yup."
She took aim and fired.
Without even checking to confirm her results, she handed back the weapon.
"Now you don't."
Amazement altered his pale features. "How?"
Maka savored his shock as a great victory.
"Fox hunting is a great past time for the English."
She smirked widely.
"As Cervantes said, 'Thou hast seen nothing yet."' She handed back the weapon. "Your pistol's nicely balanced."
"Kid, you're in Texas. Here you say, 'You ain't seen nuthin' yet."'
Maka's mouth quirked. "You ain't seen nuthin' yet."
Soul shoved the gun back into his holster and gave her a long assessing look.
"How old are you kid?"
"Seventeen."
He echoed in a disbelieving tone, "Seventeen?"
"I'll reach my majority in January on my birthday."
Maka straightened her shoulders and sat tall in the saddle.
Squinting, Soul leaned closer. A little too close for her comfort.
"I don't believe it. Kid, you're not even shaving yet. I thought you were somewhere around fourteen."
Offended, Maka glowered at him. "Your estimation was obviously as faulty as your opinion of my marksmanship and equestrian abilities."
"You're probably the gangliest kid I've ever seen in my day. Your body doesn't keep up with your tongue or there'd be more to look at."
Maka had never thought herself a true beauty, and now disguised as a male she knew her looks were even less favorable, but good lord the man was starting to hurt her feelings.
"You, sir, are detestable." she huffed.
"You're entitled to your opinion."
He gave his reins a commanding yank. His palomino turned and cantered off.
"We better get back to the house."
Maka glared daggers at his retreating back.
He should count himself lucky she didn't have a pistol anymore.
She didn't know when or how, but one day she'd make Soul Evans pay for his arrogance.