Maka decided that bed must be a foretaste of heaven.
After extinguishing the oil lamp she hurried to remove her bare feet from the cold floor. Getting into bed proved to be an exercise in pain, but she succeeded.
Just as her eyes began to flutter shut there was a heavy knock on her door.
"Yes?"
"Kid," Soul said as he carelessly flung the door open, "We need to talk."
"Can it not wait til morning?" Maka moaned as she swung her legs out of bed and her toes touched ice cold wood.
"No can do, it's important."
Maka could just make out his form as he stumbled into her room.
"Christ Kid, why's it so dark in here?"
"Perhaps because normal people are sleeping at this hour?" She grumbled as she fumbled in the dark for the oil lamp.
Her hand closed around the lamp, and his hand clamped over hers. Maka jerked her head up in surprise, her eyes trying to read his face in the dark.
"Sorry kid, I can't see a damned thing in here."
His hand left hers swiftly, but she could feel the lingering imprint of his palm on her hand, singeing her skin as if she'd held it too close to the cookstove on a cold winter's morning.
"Almost got it," she said as her shakey hand struck a match.
Light flooded the room and Souls face came into veiw, only a hair's breadth away.
The intensity of his gaze made her take a small step back.
"Does it hurt?" He murmured, his breath fanning her face.
"What?" Maka stammered, trying not to show how distressed she had become by his close proximity.
"Your body, does it hurt?"
Maka's face felt hotter than a July afternoon.
He stood intimately next to her, in the middle of the night, inquiring about her body. The complete brashness of this cowboy would never cease to amaze her!
She turned her head to hide her burning cheeks.
"My body if fine, Mr. Evans. I assure you, there's no need for alarm."
He scrutinized her, his unwavering eyes burning a path across her small frame.
If she didn't die from embarrassment, it would surely be indecency.
"Here, I brought you some liniment. It's for sore muscles."
He held out his hand, a small glass jar with brownish liquid cradled in his palm.
"I um, wanted to say. About earlier, that is..." His face turned sheepish, and his broad shoulders hunched forward.
Maka was being to understand, why he was here in her room in the dead of night and stumbling over his words. He was trying, in his own way, to apologize for earlier.
She could tell it was hard for him to say it, to form the correct words. Probably because the stubborn man never apologized for anything in his whole life.
If this was as good an apology as she was going to get though, she would accept it and meet him half way.
Maka smiled brightly up at him and took the jar from his hands.
"Thank you."
He nodded, the muscles in his neck jumping as he slowly swallowed.
A silent understanding passed between them then, neither needing to speak it outloud and tarnish the moment. The jar was a peace offering of sorts, and his whole body relaxed as she opened the lid. She took a delicate whiff of the contents before gagging on the strong scent.
"It smells bloody awful!"
Soul cracks a smile, "Well the horses never complain about it."
"Horses?"
He shrugs, "It says it's good for folks, too. Can't say as I've ever tried it, personally."
"You want to put horse liniment on me?" She laughs in disbelief. "You're worse than the quacks and charlatans in London!"
He snorts at that, "Stop complaining and take your shirt off, I'll slap some of this on your shoulders and you'll be right as rain by tomorrow."
Maka pressed a hand to her throat, clutching the white linen of her bed shirt.
There was no way she was going to take off her shirt in front of him.
His eyes widened, then narrowed. They were trained on her chest. Stepping closer, he continued to stare. Maka cringed back even more.
"What are you doing with those?" He asked pointing at her chest.
Cold dread surged through her.
Maka glanced downward and prayed that her breasts weren't poking out too far.
Soul's hand shot out and batted at the silver chain she wore. His rough fingers slid down the sensitive skin at her throat as he examined it closer.
Maka's skin tingled and she suppressed a bone aching shiver. She didn't know if it was from relief, or something else entirely.
"Why would you be wearing a heart shaped locket and a wedding ring around your neck?"
Her chin jutted forward, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "They belonged to my mother and Father. It's all I have left of them."
"Kid, I suggest you take them off your scrawny neck and put them in a drawer someplace else."
"Why Evans? Do you have a bloody problem with me wearing them? Can you not make a man out of me if I'm wearing such delicate things?"
Her voice was mocking, but she feared his answer.
He stared at her for a long moment before sighing, "I'm not heartless ya know. I was more concerned with keeping it safe. It seems like it's super important to you. Working on the ranch it's very likely you'd lose or damage it. I meant no offense kid."
"Oh, I see." She stammered, feeling suddenly very foolish. She pulled the chain off over her head and laid it onto the bedside table. She felt naked not wearing it.
"I apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusions."
Soul's mouth quirked, and he nodded.
"I guess I can understand. I'm all for making you into a proper man, but a little bit of sentimental jewelry isn't going to make much of a difference. You learn quick though, it won't be long before you walk, talk, and work like a man."
His face became suddenly very solemn and he leaned in closely and whispered, "I'm more worried about you in other aspects."
"Like what?" Maka asked, feeling goose flesh run down body. He was so terribly close.
"You still walk like a girl."
Freezing on the spot, Maka kept her gaze trained straight ahead and gritted, "Then get me the holster and gun like you said you would."
"I will in another day or two, until then though, you gotta use your legs when you walk. Your hips swish back and forth too much." He reached around and gave her a friendly slap on the rear.
He jumped back laughing, ignoring her splutters and her tiny fist that swung out at his face.
Maka was a peaceful person by nature, but at this moment she had never wanted to physically hurt someone as baldly as she did this cowboy.
She glared at him, silently outraged.
She was appalled at his brazen act, and she knew somewhere beyond the grave her papa was having another heart attack.
"You are probably the easiest person in the world to tease kid." Soul chuckled as he took a defensive step back. "You make it too easy."
Maka's fist curled around the jar of liniment, willing it not to shake.
"You are a deplorable cowboy."
Soul turned on his heels, a devil's grin playing across his face.
"I know. If you change your mind on needing help applying that ointment, I'm right down the hall."
"Not on your life!" Maka burst out at his retreating back.
He shut the door behind him, still laughing as he went.
This indignity was beyond all expectation.
Maka groaned and flopped backwards onto her bed. The man had drained the last of her energy.
She turned her head and looked at the jar stil clutched in her hand, a slow smile spreading.
At least they were on speaking terms again.
The next morning, Soul woke her up at the crack of dawn.
With the help of Black Star and Justin they loaded up the borrowed plow onto the wagon bed and hitched the grey mare up. Soul took up the reins and Maka climbed up next to him, settling in for the long ride. They rolled out of the yard, wagon wheels creaking and the harness jangling in a quiet rhythm.
Maka scrubbed at her eyes, the lack of sleep from last night looming heavy on her lids.
They sat in comfortable silence as the wagon cut a path through the vast prairie grass. The smell of spring hung heavy in the air as the wheels churned over red clover and green buffalo grass.
Soul inhaled deeply, the coners of his mouth rising in a half smile.
"The air here tastes better than whiskey in your belly."
Maka breathed deep, the air was heady with the smell of sage and sun-ripe grass.
A whole hour passed before a small white washed house and a shotgun milled barn came into view. The buildings looked so out of place standing alone in the vast emptiness known as Texas.
Soul stopped the wagon in front of the barn and they both hopped down. It was quiet here, too quiet. Maka vaguely wondered where the residents were.
Soul cleared his throat before speaking. "I'll take care of the plow, you head inside and thank our neighbors for letting us borrow it."
"Don't you you require help getting it down?" Maka asked, wondering what his game was.
Now that she thought about it, he looked a little sweaty and on edge.
"No, uh no, I can handle the plow. You just go see the Thompsons."
Justin and Black Star's words from the day before came back to Maka in full clarity.
"They're more like bears. Or vultures."
Surely Soul wasn't nervous over two young girls was he? But as she watched him fidget with some rope on the horse's harness and curse under his breath she began to reconsider.
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Maka walked toward the little log house only a stone throw away. The Thompsons, no matter what kind of woman they were, would not swade her courage today. She had traveled the ocean, put on mens clothing, and braved a new land. This would be easy.
As Maka neared the house the screen door burst open, rocking on its hinges and scraping against the hewn timber wall. Out piled two of the oddest women she had ever seen. One stood so tall, Maka could have easily mistook her as a man, the whirling violet hingham dress she wore almost overlooked. The second was more girl than woman. She was tiny and pale, with big saucer eyes. She reminded Maka of the porcelain doll she played with as a little girl in England.
Both women locked eyes with Maka before they exploded into a chaotic whirlwind of lace and petticoats.
"So you must be Maka Albarn," the oldest girl cooed as she claimed Maka's right arm.
"Lord Maka Albarn right?" The youngest corrected as she clung firmly to Maka's left arm.
"You are the talk of the town Lord Albarn and you must come in and sit with us." The oldest one demanded as she leaned more of her heaving bosom into Maka's arm.
"Oh I wouldn't dream of imposing on you lovely ladies." Maka stammered as she looked wildly around. Had he gone into the barn, or simply vanished into thin air Maka couldn't be certain, but Soul was nowhere to be found. The traitor had abandoned her.
"We insist that you come inside and drink tea with us." The youngest one giggled as they both forcefully began to drag Maka toward the house.
Just before the girls pulled her all the way through the doorway Maka caught a glimps of laughing red eyes. He was peeking around the corner of the barn, tossing her a fiendish smile.
"Traitor," she mouthed silently before he slipped from her view.
The Thompsons girls, who she soon learned was Liz and Patty, had not been hard to figure out. The term bears and vultures the men had used to describe the two had suddenly made perfect sense.
They were ravenous, but not for food. They were husband hungry.
Maka had seen it before, being reared among London's elite where the girls were very aware of the marriage market. They knew the pedigree of every single male and could even closely approximate his wealth. Within a few minutes of dancing with a man, the debutantes were even able to guess, within a shilling, just what the man's waistcoat cost.
Thirty minutes of chatting with the Thompsons it became exceedingly clear that the two sisters would have handled themselves admirably in London.
Each girl wore her best dress. Ribbons perched atop hair that had been subjected to no doubt hours of prep. Liz, the eldest of the two wore suspiciously pink cheeks and lips and smelled lightly of some unknow perfume. They both sat so close to Maka on the settee that their shoes touched her worn and too big boots.
Maka knew she needed to leave soon, no doubt Soul was getting restless waiting outside for her. Faced with enduring the advances of the Thompson gaggle or returning to Forsaken and being put back to hard work, Maka chose the former.
It wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer...
Despite herself, Maka was enjoying the girls company. They were simpering and clingy, but also very intelligent and unwittingly honest.
Soul could wait a little longer, the brute.
The only reason he had brought her along on this trip was to offer her as a sacrifice in his stead.
So Maka turned on her upper-crust British accent, employed every flattering line she'd ever heard come from a man's mouth, and happily let herself sit in the parlor where she was fed a number of sticky, sweet items.
She silently wondered how she could diplomatically teach these creatures to brew a proper cup of tea. The brown liquid in her cup looked like the bilge water on the ship she'd voyaged upon to come to the States, and it probably tasted similar, too.
Could no one in this county prepare a proper cup of tea?
Still, sipping it kept her from hauling rocks, so sip it she did. Slowly.
What the blazes was taking the kid so long?
He felt a little uneasy as he watched the quiet house.
Maybe the Thompsons had trussed the kid up like a Thanksgiving turkey and stuffed him in the closet. He wouldn't put it past the two.
Maybe it was guilt or maybe it was concern for the kids welfare, but Soul was just about to charge in for the rescue when the door swung open. The kid stepped off of the porch, bowing and smiling as the Thompsons girls giggled and blushed.
"Thank you for the lovely afternoon ladies, it was a pleasure to sit with two beautiful woman for a change. I will call upon you both again soon. Cheers!"
The kid waved one last time then turned grinned in his dirrection.
Soul couldn't help but be impressed as the kid literally swaggered to the wagon.
"You sly dog, you never told me you were good with girls," Soul scoffed as he slapped the kid on the back.
"No thanks to you," The kid scowled. "You really left me to the wolves there Evans.
"Well it looks like you handled yourself right as rain kid."
Soul laughed as the kid's frown deepened.
"Well not exactly..." the kid muttered under his breath. "I might have overstepped myself."
"How so?" Soul asked as he took up the reins and the wagon lurched forward.
"The girls told me that the nearby town is having a big founder's day party this Friday."
Soul nodded his head, wandering where the kid was going with this story.
"They said they didn't have dates for the event, so naturally being a gentleman I offered my services... and possibly yours as well?"
Soul's eyes went wide, and his jaw went slack. If there were any bugs in the vicinity they could have easily flown into his open mouth.
"Oh kid, please tell me you didn't?" He asked in a deadpan voice.
Maka grinned wide and gave him a slow wink.
"No, not really."
The kid was being cheeky with him.
With one big paw Soul shoved the kid off the buckboard, which wasn't hard to do since he weighed next to nothing. The kid hit the ground with a loud "oof" before rolling back onto his haunches.
Despite the rough landing the kid let out a peal of laughter, and regardless of his nature to be forever grumpy Soul couldn't help but smile in return.
Still laughing the kid jumped up and dusted his hands on his baggy britches and trotted after the still moving wagon.
"Don't be mad, you absolutely deserved that scare after you left me alone and defenseless with those girls."
Soul snorted at that. "I wouldn't call the way you handled those biddies defenceless. You had them practically eating out of you tiny, British hand."
"Are you jealous Evans? I could give you a few pointer with the ladies if you want?"
Soul gave him an incredulous look.
"Christ kid, don't ever give me a heart attack like that again. I'd rather eat my left foot than go on a date with one of those two."
Maka grinned up at him as she walked along beside the wagon.
"So are you going to let me back on?"
Soul shook his head and scoffed, "Nuh uh, you can walk home kid!"
Lord Ragnarok paced his study like a feral animal.
He wanted nothing more than to throw one of his chairs right out the window.
He had company coming any minute though, so with great restraint he would refrain, for now.
He instead pictured the face of lady Albarn and how wonderful it would feel to wrap his hands around her delicate neck and strangle the life from the impertinent woman.
He used the word woman too lightly though, she was nothing more than a disobedient obstinate girl. His dark mood tonight was all due to her and the utter disrespect she had shown him.
He had waited, patiently he might add, for almost two months for her to finish grieving her father's death as tradition dictated he must. Yet she had still not bothered to come see him or return any of his letters.
He had been furious enough to drive by her estate and demand her apology, but she had not been there. In fact, no one had been there. No servants, no stable lads, no mistress Albarn. The whole place had looked abandoned for some time. That's when he began to let himself worry.
His prized wife to be was missing. As a person, he could care less about lady Albarn or her welfare, but after her father had foolishly signed the marriage contract, she had become his by law. And Lord Ragnarok always took care of his property.
Now she was missing, and it infuriated him to no ends that something of his could simply dissapear off the face of the earth. The disrespect was simply intolerable.
Desperate, he had hired a private detective, a man both highly recommended and equally discreet to look into it. Now only two weeks after hiring the man, the investor had arranged tonight's meeting. He had no doubt found some news about the girl, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered to come this late in the night.
Two taps sounded at the door before a short little man with a balding head and a full mustache entered the room. He removed his worn bowler hat and bowed deeply.
"What news have you? Do not keep me waiting." Lord Ragnarok barked, skipping formality entirely.
The man pushed his hat firmly back on his head and cleared his throat before speaking.
"It's not good."
"Is she dead then?"
The man looked startled, more from the lack of sympathy in his employers voice than the actual remark made.
"No sir, all of my leads indicate that she has booked passage out of the country."
Lord Ragnarok threw his head back and roared with spiteful laughter.
"Out of the country?" He sneered at the investigator. "How could she possibly afford passage? I've seized all her estates and holdings. I own everything that her simpleton father gambled away."
"I'm sure my leads are correct sir, she was last seen at the harbor, buying a one way ticket to America.
"America?"Lord Ragnarok growled.
So the bitch had run away had she? Well he would make her pay once he found her. And finder her he would. No one told Lord Ragnarok no.
He had already announced their wedding to the paper and started making arrangements, now without a bride he would be the laughingstock of London. He could not allow it.
"I don't care how you do it, I just want her brought back to me at once."
"The investor swallowed slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "It will take some time sir, America is a big place and we have no leads on where she went after departing the ship."
Lord Ragnarok slammed his fist on his desk, his teeth flashing menacingly. "Just get it done!"
"Yes sir, I'll be on my way sir. Before I leave though, I thought you might like to have this back, I had a feeling it belongs to you." The investigator removed a paper wrapped package from his coat and placed it cautiously on his desk before exiting.
As Lord Ragnarok removed the strings and the wrapping fell to the floor, his whole body began to hum.
Cradled in his shaking hand, heavy and made of solid gold, was his missing door knocker.
Without another word, he sent it crashing through the window.