Once again Maka mucked out the stables after breakfast.
It smelled horrible, but she was getting better at it.
She was done in no time today and despite herself she felt a little proud.
The second she finished though Soul showed up to drag her outside.
He hauled her behind the house to a patch if baren land.
"Tsubaki wants a bigger garden this year. Collect the rocks and line them up with the lines I've scratched in the dirt."
Maka nodded. She'd rather be a help to Tsubaki than Mr. Evans any day.
The patch of land he had marked out was thirty yards long and almost as wide. Everything from thumb size pebbles to pillow sized boulders dotted the area. Maka couldn't help but feel defeated at the sheer number and sizes of stone.
"I'm supposed to budge those huge things by myself?"
"Those aren't huge kid, I already moved the larger rocks over that way." He waved his arm negligently toward a collection of rocks that might as well have been the foundations for a fortress. "I left you the smaller ones. Get busy. I want you to till and hoe it tomorrow so Tsubaki can plant it the next day."
Soul gave her a walloping smack between the shoulder blades to set her into motion and strode off.
At first it seemed daunting, how much she had to move, but little by little Maka made progress as the sun rose higher.
Several hours later, her back ached and her arms trembled. Her hands, even with the over sized gloves, were raw with blisters.
Maka was just about to take a water break when something stung her on the rear.
She let out a loud yelp and spun on her heels, positive something had bitten her.
Soul stood leaning against the fence rolling a small pebble between his fingers. "Lunch time, kid."
"Did you just throw a rock at my rear?" Maka asked, her face blazing with mortification and anger.
He smirked at her.
"Maybe."
Maka exhaled slowly, trying to gather a sense of calm.
He was watching her closely. Everything was a test with this man. She could tell he was waiting for her to lose her temper.
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
She nodded once and dusted her hands on her britches. "Let's go then, I'm famished."
He nodded curtly then pivoted toward the barn. He almost seemed a little dissapointment that she hadn't taken his bait.
Maka's muscles screamed at her as she moved to follow him.
She huffed in frustration as she trotted to keep up with the long legged cowboy.
They veered around the barn and walked a short ways towards a large clapboard building.
What had Black Star had called it? A bunk house? It must be where the other cowboys lived and slept.
The house was unimpressive; the door hung crooked on its hinges and the windows looked like they needed a good washing, but it had a certain charm about it that Maka liked. It was tucked away, hidden in the shade by three gigantic red oak trees. A rusty horse shoe hung above the crooked door, a small campfire burned warmly out front, and a small table full of playing cards leaned against the south wall.
The cowboys had abandoned their card playing to line up infront of a little shack attached to their bunk house.
Smoke rose from the chimney in great billows and the sound of pots and pans banging around and harsh cursing came from within.
A very sweaty and frazzled man opened a window and leaned out. "Grubs on!" He shouted as he beat a tin ladel against the window sil for emphasis.
The men surged forward, and one by one received a pie tin full of food.
Maka quietly took her place in line behind Soul. The wild eyed cook thrust a tin into Maka's hands.
"Here ya go, Albarn. A perfectly symmetrical plate of maggots al la mode."
Revulsion streaked through her. Soul gave her shoulder a jostle and chuckled. " The cook likes to give his food fancy-sounding names."
"He's quite . . . descriptive." Maka blinked at the tin and forced herself to smile.
"It's not really maggots, it's what folk around her call rice with stew sometimes."
Just about the time she'd decided Soul Evans had no redeeming qualities, he'd saved her from making a fool of herself. He must have seen how close she had been to emptying her stomach onto his boots.
"Did the kid just insult my cooking?" The cook scowled at her and Soul.
"Of course not, we were discussing how good it smells. Soul motioned to the cook. "Better give me extra."
"That's more like it. You want some blood or fire?"
"Both." Soul took his tin. "But I'll add them myself."
Soul shook a bottle over his plate. Red goo plopped out. The second bottle was smaller, and the reddish orange watery contents poured out.
"Stop hoggin' the Tabasco," Black star groused. "In fact, give some to the kid. It'll put hair on his chest."
"And singe it all off." Soul shoved the bottle at Black Star who cackled in response.
They all took a seat at a long rough saw plank table that sat under the shade of the red oaks.
Maka wedged herself between Black Star and Mr. Evan's and took a tentative bite of her food. She was surprised how good it actually tasted for having such a horrible name.
The men ate in silence, and it was probably the quietest she'd ever heard the rowdy bunch be. Maka ate almost half of what she'd been served.
Soul ordered in a low tone, "Eat up, kid. You don't want to insult the cook."
Maka looked down at the food. She couldn't eat another bite, but she didn't want to offend the cook.
She was starting to realize how important respect was to these boisterous cowboys.
A swift hand slid over, swiped her tin, and replaced it with an empty one. Maka swung her gaze to the owner of the hand, taking in the lanky, sandy haird cowboy.
Justin Law was his name, but other than that she knew nothing about him.
His blue eyes seemed to be staring off in the distance. A moment later, he ducked his head and shoveled in every last morsel.
He didn't say a word—just pushed away from the table and sauntered off.
As she rose from the table, Soul murmured, "You owe him one. A man always pays his debts."
"I'll take that to heart." Maka nodded, wondering why the quiet cowboy had helped her.
"Enough jawin' kid, those rocks aren't going to move themselves." Soul said with a sly grin.
Maka frowned at him, but it only seemed to make his smile broader.
What was with him and grinning today?
She almost wished he'd go back to glowering at her, his smiles were very unnerving.
Reluctantly, she made her back to the field of stones. It seemed like there were more rocks now than when she left.
Did the bloody ground just grow boulder here?
She worked the rest of the day lugging, pulling, pushing and tossing stones to the edge of the plot.
Her fingers were swollen and her nails chipped, but she pushed on.
As the sun began to sink behind the horizon and the sky turned into twilight mist she hobbled back to the house.
She left her filthy boots on the porch so she wouldn't ruin Tsubaki's impeccably swept floors, and padded into the house in her socks.
The smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen to greet her.
It smelled brilliant, and although her stomach growled in protest, she passed the dining room by.
She was bone tired, filthy, and she didn't have the fortitude to deal with a red eyed devil tonight.
Right on cue his large frame appeared on the stairs, effectively blocking her path.
"What's wrong Kid? Not hungry?"
He smirked at her, taking in her socked feet, dirt covered britches, blistered hands and wild hair.
His lingering gaze slid lazily over her from head to toe.
The audacity of this man!
Maka's breath caught in her throat, her ears burning at the intensity of his gaze.
No man had ever looked at her so openly before.
Didn't he know how rude it was to stare?
Finally she found her voice, even though it sounded small in their shared space.
"No I'm not hungry."
"Where are you going then?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, still regarding her with those keen eyes.
"If you must know I'm going to bed. Now if you'll excuse me." She said as she tried to sidle past him up the stairs.
Soul learned in, perilously close to her, barring her way.
He wasn't much taller than her, but years of hard labor had shaped him into an imposing man.
He leaned closer , his eyes red ambers in the fading light, framed by the white fringe of his hair.
He looked like a predator, standing so very close to her on the stairs.
"Are you giving up, kid?" He asked softly. "Are you going back to England?"
Every warning bell in her body was sounding.
He was trying to intimidate her, and Lord give her strength it was working.
She narrowed her eyes at him and took a shallow breath before speaking.
"Not a chance in hell."
Soul chuckled low in his throat. "Good, I was hoping you'd make this interesting."
No longer caring if their bodies touched Maka pushed past him, making sure to put her elbow into his stomach as hard as possible. He let out an "oof," as she she slid past him.
She clambered up the stairs, her face red from anger and her arm scorching from where their skin had briefly touched.
She heard his laughter floating up the stairs as she slammed her bed chamber door firmly behind her.
She let out a long suffering sigh then went to her window to open it.
Being that close to another person had made her feel unbearably warm. His body put out heat like a furnace and she felt slightly dizzy from the ordeal.
Maka glanced at her reflection in the standing mirror and grimaced at her reflection.
Her shoulder length hair was lank and dusty, her face caked with grime. She'd never worn filthier clothes, and as she peeled off her shirt, she noted that the dirt went clear through her chest binding and actually made a small ooze of mud in the sweat that trickled down her front. She almost cried when she started to unknot the strip of cloth.
In her haste that morning, she'd left a raw edge up under her arm, and it seesawed with her motions enough to actually start abrading her skin.
For a woman who had never in her life even had to sweat, let alone work, this was a terrible fate.
Still, she had no choice.
Having chosen this path, she had to stay the course.
After all, she owed a debt to Justin Law, she had made two new friends in Tsubaki and Black star, and she really was happy here.
The work was hard, the customs here were strange and new, and Soul was an unbearable heathen.
But... she had never had so much freedom in her life. It was truly exhilarating.
She should have donned mans clothing a long time ago. Even if they did get filthy more often than not.
Maka kicked her boots off and the rest of her shirt, ready to slip into something clean and warm before surrendering to sleep.
A single knock sounded on her door, and it swung open before Maka could react.