After lunch everyone felt reluctant to leave the shelter of the big oak tree.
It had been great food and company.
It was enough to make even Black Star hesitant to leave.
He helped Tsubaki pack up the picnic basket, both taking their time. Maka could tell that they were savoring ever moment they had together.
"If ya want, I could carry the basket back to the house for you?" Black star asked.
His request was a simple one, but under his calm tone there was an underlying sadness.
He wasn't ready to part ways with her yet.
Tsubaki half smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, but I can manage."
She picked up the basket and turned to leave. Maka noticed Black Star was trying not to look too disappointed, and failing miserably at it, like sone one had kicked him in the stomach.
Tsubaki stopped and turned back towards them, a beautiful smile on her face.
"We should do this again soon though, it was nice to spend time with the both of you."
Her eyes held Black Star's intently and he grinned back at her like a lovesick fool.
"Any time, miss Tsubaki. It's always a pleasure."
Tsubaki hastily spun around, her cheeks flaming brightly.
Maka couldn't help but smile at Tsubaki's retreating figure.
Maka had no idea what to expect when she finally met her uncle, but seeing her two new friends so miserable made her secretly hate him.
She had to find a way to change her uncle's mind about love.
The question was how though?
Luckily she had a few months to think it over before he came back.
Black Star stretched his legs out and patted his full belly contentedly. "That was some mighty fine chow, huh English?"
Maka nodded in agreement. "Tsubaki sure is a wonderful lady."
Black Star smiled softly, but didn't reply.
They sat in comfortable silence for a time, the only sound being bird song and the lowing of distant cattle.
It was peaceful.
Black Star stood and stretched his arms out wide. "I'm all for goofing off, but we should get back to work before the boss shows back up. I'd hate for him to fly into a rage and send you back to england."
Maka suppressed a shudder at that.
Soul showing up and seeing her lounging under a tree was the last thing she wanted. He probably wouldn't take too kindly to seeing a job only half done.
Maka stood up, every bone in her body creaking loudly.
Black Star smirked at the sound. "Dont worry English, you're body will get use to the physical labor eventually."
"Hopefully before I keel over from exhaustion."
Black Star laughs as they part ways, him back to the barn and her back to the field.
The rest of the day Maka gives it her all, her pride the only thing driving her forward on shakey legs.
She would not give Soul the chance to criticize her work, not today.
As the sun slowly began to sink in the west and the sky burned brilliantly with orange and crimson streaks, a lone rider rode into the barn yard.
He dismounted his horse in one swift motion and walked towards her, his stride relaxed but purposeful.
His hair was stained the color of the fading sunset and his eyes rivaled even the deepest of reds in the sky.
It struck Maka that she had never seen such a man as him. Not in London, not in the sea ports, train stations, or any of the new places she had traveled. He was an odd specimen, and she imagined that even if she traveled the whole world, she would never meet another man like him.
"You sure space out a lot kid." He smirks as he leans casually against a fence post.
Maka rolls her eyes in response. "Maybe I was just occupied in my thoughts."
"Oh ho, is that so? Well don't go thinking too deep, you're face is bound to get stuck like that."
"My face? What's wrong with my face?"
"You get these wrinkles on your face when you're thinking too hard."
Without thinking Maka's hands shoot up to touch her cheeks and forehead, but in the process she end up smearing more mud across her face.
Soul laughs and Maka glares at him.
The audacity of this man.
Once again without thinking Maka stoops down and grabs a lumpy fist full of earth and launches it at his stupid face.
Soul deftly dodges the flying mud ball, and flashes her a smug smile. "You aim like a girl."
Maka doesn't know what has come over her, has she really stooped this low?
But at the moment, wiping that smug look off is face is her greatest desire.
She snatches up two more fistfuls and throws them as hard as she can.
He actually has the nerve to laugh as he side steps every single one.
Frustrated that her every move is being so easily thwarted Maka changes tactics and rushes forward to gain the element of surprise.
It works, the look of shock on his face is enough to make her laugh.
He backs up quickly, trying to retreat, but his footing slips and he falls flat on his back with a giant splat.
Maka puts her hands on her knees and doubles over with laughter, tears streaming down her face
The high and mighty Soul has fallen and the victory is sweet.
Maka's laughter falls short as he lays there in a motionless heap, his arms and legs sprawled out, and his eyes closed.
Bloody hell, I've killed him!
Maka rushes to his side. "Mr. Evans? Are you alright? " she asks as she leans over his still body.
His eyes snap open and he flaunts a devilish grin.
Maka's heart stops instantly, she knows what's coming...
His hand is lightening quick as he clamps it around her forearm and drags her down.
She lands with a hard whack into the mushy earth.
The breath instantly leaves her body and she is now covered in sticky warm mud.
Maka props up on her elbows and shoots the laughing cowboy a scowl.
"You sir, are a rogue."
"Well, it's not the worst thing I've ever been called."
He closes his eyes as his amusement continues to bubble out.
"And it's probably a true statement."
Maka tries her best to glower, but hearing this man laugh has once again caught her off guard.
That's twice in one day she's heard this serious cowboy laugh, when just yesterday she was almost certain he was incapable of it.
Surely the end of the world is nigh upon them for such an unthinkable thing to happen.
But against her better judgment, she can't help but join along with him. She tosses her head back, face up towards the fading light of evening, and it feels so very freeing to laugh with him.
"Didn't you two hear me calling ya for dinner?" Tsubaki's sweet face appears above them, blocking the view of the fading sky.
"What in God's name happened to you two?"
"Don't ask." Soul groans as he rolls onto his side.
"Did you mention dinner? I could eat a horse right about now."
A horse?
Maka looks to Tubaki, apprehension flashing across her face.
"It's just an expression." Tsubaki whispers. "We don't really eat horse."
Maka breathed a small sigh of relief.
Westerners had the oddest sayings.
"Why don't you take the plow into the barn before we eat. A man honors his tools with good care, and they take care of him right back," Soul assured as he tried in vain to scrape the mud off his boots onto the wooden fence post.
Maka complied without question, choosing to keep her head down. There was no way she was going to ruin his rare good mood.
After unhitching the plow and putting the mare up for the evening Maka tracked back to the house, her bones weary and feet heavy.
Tsubaki met her at the back door. "Sorry hun, you're not stepping foot in here till you wash some of that dirt off. Roll up the sleeves and get your hands and face. Leave your boots on the porch after you rince them too, they'll be dry by the morning."
Tsubaki pointed toward the pump across the yard with a smile. "I put a cake of soap there for you. Duck your head and shampoo that messy hair or yours, it's more brown than blonde now. Here's a towel."
Mortified, Maka accepted the towel.
No one had ever found her hygiene lacking.
She couldn't blame Tsubaki for not letting her in the house though. She smelled awful. She felt sticky, and her hair felt itchy. She was plastered head to toe with mud and gunk.
Maka would give almost anything for a nice, long bath. Resolving not to complain, she headed for the water pump.
The water was astonishingly cold, but the chilly cascade felt wonderful on the scrapes and cuts on her palms.
Her hands grew muddy before enough dirt was washed off to even let her see the flesh beneath.
She knew her face probably wasn't much better, so she cupped one hand and repeatedly splashed and rubbed at her cheeks and chin.
Her hand even slipped back to get the nape of her neck. The cool water felt especially good there.
Her teeth chattered as she rinsed her arms, but the frigid water brought slight relief to her aching muscles.
She tipped her head underneath the spigot and scrubbed at her hair with one hand and pumped the handle with the other. She lathered the fresh smelling soap in her hair and had almost finished washing out the last of the suds when a low timbre spoke behind her.
"Scoot over kid, and stop hogging that soap."
Maka jerked up so swiftly she hit her head on the spigot.
She peeked up at him from behind a curtain of damp hair, her face growing increasingly warm.
He chuckles as he regards her.
"You've got something on your face there kid."
Maka snorts, a very unlady sound. "No thanks to you Evans."
Maka exhaled sharply as she realises her mistake. She regrets it before the words have finished leaving her mouth.
A slow satisfied smile spreads across his face, like a wild barn cat with too much cream.
"What?" She asks, even though she knows the answer.
"Oh nothing... you've just never called my anything but "Mr." Evans."
Maka frowned at him as she wrung the last of the water from her hair.
This smug man was enjoying himself at her expense.
"A lot of people call me by my last name, I'd still prefer if you called me Soul or boss though."
Maka gives him a calculated look. "Maybe, that depends."
"On what kid?"
"Instead of kid, maybe you can start calling me by my given name?"
He pauses a moment, thumbs hooked in his blue jean pockets, as if seriously contemplating her request.
He flashes her a wicked smile though before answering.
"Not a chance in hell, kid."
Maka huffs and blows a wet strand of hair from her face.
Why was she not surprised?
He smirks at her frustration as his hand hovers at his shirt collar.
He slips the first button off. Then slowly another and another.
"Wha, what are you doing?" Maka hisses.
"Washing up." He says simply. "You should probably peel that dirty shirt of yours off too, you'd feel a lot cleaner."
Maka gasped, "I will do no such thing! It would be undignified, and not to mention crude to show so much flesh."
Soul shot her a look as if she had gone barmy in the head.
Maybe she had?
He popped another button and his blue twil shirt parted open wider.
No, he was absolutely the crazy one here!
What reality was this where a cowboy undressed himself out in the open, before God and everyone else.
"So am I going to have to wrestle you out of that filthy shirt or what kid?"
Her traitorous body couldn't repress a rouge blush from creeping up her chest and spreading to her face. Even her ears felt warm.
"Are all Englishers this shy? You're acting like a woman clutching to her modesty."
Maka unintentionally gripped her shirt tighter, as if it would fly off her body any moment.
He was staring at her, and she felt bare before his crimson eyes.
Her shirt suddenly felt too thin, she felt too exposed.
"You're acting strange kid." He drawled. "What's the matter?"
Quick, don't panic.
Maka scanned the area her brain racing to find an answer.
Men out here weren't very modest, she had leaned that quickly upon her arrival. She needed an excuse to stay covered up and a good one.
Her frantic gaze fell on Tsubaki who stood on the porch, sweeping off the mud she had carelessly tracked there earlier.
"I uh, don't want to be indecent in front of Tsubaki, a gentleman must respect a lady's sensibilities."
Soul looked over to where Tsubaki was, afond smile on his face.
"It's true,Tsubaki's probably seen more of us than a good woman ought to, but she don't pay us no mind. She's like our little sister around here."
Maka briefly wondered what Soul would think if he knew how smitten Black Star was with his "little sister".
"I can abide by your respect for women though. At least you have that quality already. We can skip that part of your training and work harder on other aspects now."
"How noble of you." Maka scoffed as she began to towl dry her short locks.
"Well, you might be shy, but I am not, this filthy thing is coming off."
Maka's heart stammered as her eyes were once again pulled to his exposed skin.
It feels as if something has lodged itself in her throat, and her mouth feels incredibly dry. Her eyes are riveted by his slender fingers as they lazily dance down his chest, one button at a time.
He shucks his shirt completely off and stretched his arms above his head in a languid gesture.
His skin looks like marble in the fading light of day, ivory and darkness in one. Beautiful yet somber.
He is an enigma of a man, and she can't take her eyes off of him.
Her heart is faltering, and shame floods her whole being.
This is wrong.
She finally looks away, abashed to her very core.
"I must be going now," she mumbles half heartedly as she backs away from the water pump.
"Give me a hand with the pump before you go?" He urges as he swipes the bar of soap from her trembling hand.
Maka looks heavenward, as if the sky will open and deliver her from the sheer embarrassment of the situation.
The dusty rose sky, that matches the color of her cheeks, unfortunately does not offer any salvation on her behalf.
Steeling her resolve she rolls her shoulders and takes hold of the water pump handle, determined to look everywhere but at him.
She drives the handle up and down, slowly drawing water from down in the earth.
She hears his long drawn out sigh of relief as he splashes his face with the cool water.
She grits her teeth as his groans increase in number and length, the muscles in her body reacting oddly to the sounds.
She tries to relax her white knuckled grip on the handle and keep a steady rhythm while pumping.
Her eyes, against her will, are compelled back to him. She can't help but be captivated by his male form.
She had never witnessed a man this naked before.
If one really thought about it though, curiosity wasn't a sin...
If anything this was a grand opportunity to study the opposite sex at her leisure, close up and uninhibited.
For scientific reasons only, of course.
Anything else would be considered lude.
So for reasons of science, and nothing more, she let her eyes roam freely, indulging if only for a moment her curiosity.
He was hunched forward dunking his head under the flowing water, scrubbing fiercely at his snowy white tresses.
His back was arched, every muscle taut, every ridge and hard plain something new for her to learn, to memorize and map out.
He really was fascinating, as far as male specimens were concerned.
Here and there littered across his back, the smooth milky white of his skin was disrupted by pink hard lines. Angry zigzags, long lashes, and puckered marks stood out brightly on his pale skin.
Scars, and lots of them.
Maka's breath caught at the sight. He must have heard her breathy exclamation, because his back suddenly became stiff and ridged.
He stood up, his whole body tense, like a loaded spring. His steady gaze slowly finding her surprised face.
"Don't ask." He said it angrily, his face guarded, as if she had wounded him. "And don't follow me!" He barked as he snatched up his filthy skirt.
He spun around swiftly and headed for the barn without another word, boots stomping little dirt clouds in his wake.
Maka was left alone, sodden, flushed, and confused.
Who exactly was Soul Evans?
What had he gone through?
And why did the sight of those scars make her heart ache so terribly?