Despite the large amounts of work still needing to be done, that night was one of celebration. Work could wait. A bonfire was made with what wood they could find and a large pot of beans and cornbread was set for a feast.
Fire water and whiskey was passed around as easily as laughter and jokes. The sky was inky black, not a single star in the sky, and the far-off sound of thunder rolled in the distance. The air was damp and the atmosphere crackled with electricity as the breeze rustled the sea of grass.
It was a beautiful night, but Maka laid in the back of a covered wagon, not taking part in the merriment outside. She lay next to Tad's still form. He was sleeping peacefully despite the noise, but Maka couldn't make herself leave him just yet. They had been lucky. Injuries had been few. She felt banged up, but whole. Tad had sustained a broken arm, but Soul had assured her that it would heal with time.
She almost couldn't believe that he was alright, and she feared that if she took her eyes off him for too long he wouldn't be there. It was silly, she knew, but being here beside him made it real.
"Hey English. How's he doing?" Black Star whispers, his head popping over the wagon board.
"He's sleeping now," Maka whispers back with a small smile.
"He's one lucky son of a bitch to come out of that." Black Star says, looking down fondly at the sleeping boy.
"He's strong. A lot stronger than we thought." Maka whispers.
"You both are." Black Star says firmly. "Why don't you go enjoy yourself a bit, heaven knows you earned it today English."
"Oh, I couldn't leave him." Maka starts to protest.
"I'll stay with him. You can't miss a shindig being thrown in your honor. That's just rude," He says, giving her his patent Black Star grin.
Begrudgingly, Maka nods and crawls out of the wagon, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. She didn't want to leave him, but Black Star had a point. Plus her stomach had started growling about three hours ago.
"Thanks, I could use a quick break."
"Take your time English. Go enjoy yourself. I'll be here if you need me."
Maka smiles gratefully and walks toward the din of voices not far away. The men yip and holler when she makes her way to the campfire. Another round of enthusiastic back-slapping and drunken cheers greets her. Though nothing of her had been broken, she tries not to grimace at the rough treatment they inflict on her injured body.
Someone hands her a plate piled high with food, and she almost weeps at how good it smells. She sits down by the fire and eats her fill and then eats another plate on top of that, not quite sure how she still feels so hungry.
A pair of familiar faces catches her attention across the fire. Soul and Justin stand close to one another laughing and sharing a bottle of something between them. It was odd, for she'd always thought Justin was the bigger man, but she notices now that Soul, though not as tall is built just as formidable. He flexes his elbows, bunching the lean and powerful muscles of his back. His thumbs curled over his back pockets, drawing her gaze to the taut curve of his buttocks. He has a magnificent body. The startling thought comes to her unbidden, yet once there she can't dislodge it, can't stop noticing things. The way his canvas britches are worn white between his thighs from straddling a horse. The way the breeze molds his shirtsleeve to the bulge of his arm. The way he stands with his feet set wide, pelvis tipped slightly forward, as if flaunting his masculinity. Things no lady should ever notice.
Lightning splinters the dark sky, and thunder booming so loud that everyone stops their laughter to look up at the sky. Maka feels the fine hair on her neck stand up, but it isn't from the storm.
She feels his gaze on her, feels his eyes seeking hers. Soul watches her across the campfire, following her every movement. Those strange crimson eyes piercing the murky gloom lit by the campfire. Lightning eyes, watching her until she feels as if she were standing outside beneath the fury of the storm, alone and naked. She wants to shout at him to stop his rude staring, but of course, he means no harm, how could he know the power he holds over her.
Maka wraps both hands around her neck, the heel of one palm pressing hard at the place where her pulse thunders.
Oh, God, what's wrong with me.
He walks towards her slowly, like a predator locked on to its prey. Maka scrambles to her feet but is frozen to the spot. Over his shoulder, Justin raises his eyebrows at her suggestively. It takes all of Maka's willpower not to stick her tongue out at him, or worse yet, turn tail and run from the formidable man striding her way.
Soul flashes a roguish smile as he approaches, his swivel-hipped gait holding a strange fascination for her.
"Hey kid, I was wondering where you were. I thought for sure I'd have to go hunt you down." He hums, his voice heavy with alcohol and amusement.
Maka lets out a shallow gasp as he casually drapes his arm around her shoulder. He leans into her side, maybe out of companionship or possibly to keep his balance, at this point Maka doesn't really care.
His breath is warm and smells of whiskey. She feels the warmth from his proximity, even though her clothes and her body ignites everywhere he touches.
She feels mortified that she wants to lean further into him. To be held to his chest, to feel safe and protected.
Blushing, she inhales his scent, that unique blend of sunshine, prairie, and man. It's overwhelming, like whiskey to the senses. Soul is oblivious as he holds on to her, unaware of the sweet agony he inflicts.
He looks around hastily and gives her a furtive look before speaking. He ducks his head, his voice going lower.
"I swiped this from Black Star's stash." He rumbles, trying not to laugh as he produces a small flask from his shirt pocket. "I thought maybe we could share it? Just the two of us?"
Maka inhales, her brain no longer working without proper air, but Soul doesn't seem to notice her distress.
"Just don't tell Black Star." He whispers, a little too loudly.
Maka bites her cheek to keep a giggle from spilling out. She's never witnessed this side of him before, but he's rather adorable when inebriated.
"Your secret is safe with me."
Soul beams and hands her the flask. Sure enough, crudely etched into the side of the metal is Black Star's name.
"You have nimble fingers, Evans." Maka teases as she tries to deflect the alcohol back to him.
Soul's head falls forward, and a rascal's smile lights up his face.
"That's what women have told me."
Maka tries in vain to grapple the blush creeping across her cheeks.
She clenches her fist to keep from reaching out and trying to capture that smile with her fingertips.
And what're you going to do with it, Maka, you sentimental fool? she berates herself.
She can not touch him, not the way she longs to, not while masquerading as a man.
Him drunkenly leaning into her was as close as it was going to get. Maka couldn't hold back a smile though as he sways on his feet, his cheeks rosy and his eyes heavy.
He seems so open and confident and much less reserved while under the influence. She rather likes this side of him. Little by little she has discovered more about him and what a truly complex man he is. It was hard to distinguish who he was from one day to the next, and even harder to discern what he was thinking most days.
"Aren't you going to drink?" He questions, shaking Maka from her thoughts.
He cocks his head to the side, his face turning contemplative. "Your face is red though like you've been drinking."
"I haven't had a single sip." She stammers as his face comes substantially closer to hers.
"Why not?" He sighs, his breath feathering across her cheek.
"Because I doubt you saved any for me, you lush," Maka grumbles, as she shoves his face away from hers. He's far too close, and far too drunk to practice personal space. Even if she's the only thing keeping him standing upright she has to get out of here. She tries to untangle herself from his arm, but his grip, though gentle, only tightens around her. His face turns melancholy and she stops her struggle, struck by the cute pout of his lip.
"You don't want to drink with me?" He gruffs. "I thought we were best pals now? A partnership should be 50/50.
If I get drunk. You get drunk."
Maka shakes her head, a small smile forming. "I'll stay with you, but I'll pass on the drink. I've had enough whiskey to last a lifetime. Just the thought of it hurts my head."
Soul shrugs, not looking the least bit perturbed by her refusal. "You don't have to drink, but I do appreciate the company."
"You like my company?" Maka stammers.
"Sometimes." He gives her a wink, but with the whiskey in his system, it's more like a slow blink.
Maka bites her lip, not knowing if she should say out loud her next thoughts.
"I know that we are on good terms, even so bold as to say friends.." she breathes on a nervous exhale.
"I've never been called a true friend though. Is that how you see me?"
She turns her head to the side, trying to catch his eyes, to read his expression. Maka didn't know what she expected to see there, but written on his face is a strange expression.
"Yeah. We're best friends." He says quietly almost in disbelief, his eyes roving her face. "I don't reckon why though. You should hate me, the way I treated you. I tried my best to chase you off."
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair and tips the flask sending whiskey splattering on his boot. He glares at it, and Maka can't distinguish whether his anger is directed at the spill or at himself. "I've always been mean enough to get people to leave. It doesn't take much."
There's hurt in his voice, and he looks at her like he can't believe she's still here. Maka's heart aches at his words. He's so good at pushing others away, at putting up walls. How many people has he lost or been hurt by?
She searches his face and judging by what she sees there, his life has been a lonely one.
Soul turns without warning physically dragging her out of her thoughts and nearly off her feet.
"Hey wanna go for a walk?" He speaks in a relaxed sort of way, his words drawn-out and low.
"What?" she asks with a tilt of her head. "What about the storm coming?" Thunder rolls angrily, punctuating her concern.
He squints out to the dark skyline, his eyes judging the distant flashes of lighting.
"That storm is still miles away. We'll be back long before it gets here."
Maka shifts from one foot to the other, looking at the angry sky.
"Are you sure?"
He casts only the slightest of glances to the sky before focusing back on her face.
"What kid, are you scared of the dark?" He teases.
Maka exhaled sharply, her eyes going wide.
"Yes."
He shoots up a pale eyebrow.
"Really?"
Maka shakes her head from side to side. "More like I'm scared of the things in the dark."
To drive home her fears, a pack of coyotes howl in the distance, lonely and sad.
"Wait here." He half orders, his voice slurring slightly.
Maka reluctantly lets him go, watching as he tilts precariously on his own feet. He returns shortly, with a lit lantern in one hand and a gleaming rifle in the other. He's donned a duster, a full-length canvas coat, and his hat is pulled low over his eyes. He looks like a cowboy straight from one of her beloved dime novels back home.
He smiles a wolfish grin at her, the whisky burning wild in his eyes.
"Don't worry, there's nothing out there scarier than me now," he says, swinging the rifle over his shoulder.
Her thoughts won't line up. Every time she tries to align one, it tumbles down, scattering the rest, and without a doubt, Maka believes him. Trusts in him.
It would be wise to decline his offer, to stay in the well-lit camp, but as he turns to leave, her feet follow. Caught under his spell, he leads her into the night.
The sky has gone black in the distance, a thick wall of clouds blotting out the stars. Light dances across the sky, jagged silver flashes striking the horizon. The storm is menacing and beautiful. The clouds expel a low rumble and a fine mist can be felt in the air. It reminds Maka of the ocean as the prairie grass swirls around them. A cool breeze touches her burning cheeks, the man standing next to her blissfully unaware.
Soul holds the lantern aloft, his brooding eyes seeking something only he can see.
Maka is not sure how long they have been walking for, but the silence between them is a comfortable one. His arm is around her shoulder again, his movements still unsteady.
He seems to be searching for something, that much is obvious, but she has no idea what it could be out in this lonely place.
"It's a beautiful night." He murmurs, his breath tickling her ear. Her heart pounds hard as she turns her head, inches from his face. She clears her throat before speaking.
"It's decidedly an interesting night."
Soul shakes his head, the wisps of his pale hair brushing against her temple.
"No, it's Beautiful." He insists.
"Everything is beautiful when you're completely trousered on whiskey." Maka snorts in amusement.
Soul stops abruptly and looks down at his legs. "What's wrong with my trousers?"
"What, no, nothing! It's just an expression for being drunk!" Maka splutters, hopelessly mortified.
Soul lets loose a throaty chuckle that makes her face flush hot in the cool night air.
"The first time I met you, you asked if all cowboys wore tight pants... and yesterday you wanted me to talk about intimacy. You sure like to talk about improper things, Kid." Soul snickers into his elbow, the lantern swaying from the action.
"I... I did not think before speaking!" Maka huffs in defense.
A wide smile spreads across his face. "And you called ME, a rake. When you yourself were secretly a deviant. For shame!"
Maka contemplates shoving him but thinks better of it as he is already reeling in his boots.
"You can not judge me for the pursuit of knowledge." She retorts with a sniff.
"The pursuit of lewd knowledge maybe." A deep laugh rumbles from his chest, echoing in the wide-open space.
Maka's shoulders slump, a low groan bubbling from her mouth.
"It can't be helped I suppose, I am curious to a fault, and have been teased for it my whole life."
He angles a glance down at her, his voice turning oddly sincere. "I like that about you. You're smart like that."
Maka's knees wobble violently, so much so that Soul is the one now supporting her.
"Are you sure you haven't been drinking?" He jokes as he easily hauls her upright, his strength always astounding her.
"I'm sure." She squeaks, her voice cracking on the last note.
He raises an eyebrow at her but doesn't press her further.
"I was just pulling your leg kid. You're not a fiend. It's good to see all that proper British starch you've got is slowly letting up though. I'd call that an improvement."
Her head shakes from side to side, a sigh escaping her parted lips. "Duly noted, Evans."
"See what I mean? Starch."
His laugh comes soft, almost boyish. Maybe it's the booze talking or just something within him that has given way, but tonight Soul has let his guard down more so than normal. She sees it in the shine of his eyes, the placid curve of his mouth, and the way his body relaxes into hers as they walk. The mask he wears has lifted and it takes Maka a moment to find her voice, shaken by his open demeanor this evening.
Far away the thunder rolls, shaking the earth under their feet. The smell of rain and damp soil lingers in the air.
They are so very far away from their camp, she can no longer see the light of the campfire.
It's just the two of them, and everything that lingers in the night. The world is quiet, yet alive; the screech of an owl, the scampering of small creatures in the tall grass, and the yip of coyotes.
"Where are we going?" She asks, trying not to think about how dark it is tonight.
"I found this place while out riding yesterday, thought it'd be something you'd like. It reminded me of the first day we met." He says quietly, his well-trained eyes still scanning the dark.
"Is it something horrible?" Maka asks skeptically, "Our first meeting wasn't a great one."
Soul barks a short laugh. "Yeah, you're telling me, kid. I almost turned that wagon around and took you back to the train station."
"That would have been a grave mistake, trying to get rid of me like that. It only makes me more determined to do something when people say it is not possible."
Soul snorts and hugs her shoulder tightly.
"You are definitely a stubborn one. You're the most willful person I've ever met."
Maka playfully digs her elbow into his side, eliciting an "oof" from her drunken companion.
"You're one to talk, but I'll take that as a compliment, Evans."
Soul grabs at his side, trying to protect his ribs from her assault. He tries to scowl at her, but she can tell his heart isn't in it, not when the corner of his mouth keeps crinkling.
"You know kid, you're so damn stubborn it's almost reckless. It truly surprises me, and not being caught off guard is something I rather pride myself in," He chuckles. "With you though, you keep me on my toes. It's been nothing but surprises with you."
Maka cringes inwardly, picturing the reveal of her gender in her mind. "Well, surprises can be a good thing, right? Even the reckless ones?" She hedges hopefully.
"Hell, no!" Soul bellows, making Maka jump at the volume. "No more crazy stunts from you, or I'll have you mucking stalls for a month. When you went down that well today... I thought my heart was going to jump straight outta my chest. Hell, you went down that well headfirst for christ's sake! And then had me cut the rope! I'm going to have nightmares of that for the rest of my days." He groans, covering his face with his palm.
Maka pats him on the shoulder, reminiscent of consoling a small child. A small drunk child.
"I'm sorry if I worried you."
"Don't be sorry, just don't do anything that foolish again. At least not any time soon. Don't make me lose a new friend so soon." He hugs her shoulder tighter as if doing so will keep her safe from her own demise.
Maka beams up at his worried face, her voice coming softly and reassuring, "You got it, boss."
The corners of his mouth quirk in response.
"So you'll call me boss, but not by my first name, huh?"
"I've reached my limit of imprudence for the day." She teases.
Soul snorts in return and shakes his head.
"Speaking of limit, I'll need that whiskey back."
Maka flashes an innocent smile, the weight of the whisky flask firm in her back pocket.
"What whiskey? I thought you had it."
"You're such a bad liar." He chuckles as they turn to walk up a gentle slope of sweet-smelling grass.
If only you knew how good I've become at lying. Maka thinks bitterly as they walk shoulder to shoulder.
"Not much further now." He reassures.
"I think I can walk on my own now. No need for you to babysit your own boss." He releases his hold on her and forges ahead on his own. She instantly misses his heat and the closeness they had shared for the last hour. She balls her fists at her sides, forcing herself not to reach out to him, to bring him close to her side once more. Maka closes her eyes and summons a deep breath, holding it in, then looks up blindly skyward. Her fondness for him is so complicated. When he's near she is a nervous mess, every nerve in her body alert, but when there is distance between them she can't help but yearns for his touch again.
So much for keeping to herself for the rest of the round-up...
Refusing him has become impossible. She has followed him out into the wilderness at night for bloody sake. Her plan of keeping distance between them has quickly become a laughable situation.
"Hey, keep up Kid. No need for you to get lost in the dark." Soul says, noticing that she has been lagging behind, deep in her own thoughts.
She notices that his footing on the hill is confident and steady and his demeanor is subtly shifting back to reserved.
"You seem to be sobering up some," Maka notes out loud.
He turns abruptly and gives a little whisk of a smile before continuing on. "I'm a seasoned drinker. I sober up fast."
"Lucky," Maka grumbles, remembering the splitting headache from before.
The sky is mottled black and grey, heavu clouds and the moonlight dancing off of one another. As they top the rise though, the moon comes out in full, bathing them in soft white light.
Maka's breath catches in her throat as her eyes adjust, and she is able to take in her new surroundings.
"Bloody hell..."
She whispers it as a curse and a prayer of awe.
Side note:
Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all your lovely comments and support! As you you know I've been extremely busy with the spring planting on the farm, but with summer now here I will have more time to dedicate to writing. Originally this chapter was going to be a doozie but instead I chose to break it up into two separate chapters. The next one is going to be rather long and coming as soon as next week. :D
I've got a couple more filler chapters planned then we will be entering into the second arc of our book! So exciting!
Once again, thank you for all your love and support. Y'all truly are the best!
Much love! -Sammy911