Western!AU
Part One
Warnings: Gun use, injured Steve, Steve is an outlaw, slow burn, not much Steve x Reader content in this chapter, my apologies
It was storming hard. The oil lamps provided a dim light throughout the house, nothing compared to that of the lightning that lit up the room every few minutes.
I held a blanket around my shoulders as I tried to look out the window, but I couldn't see even five feet in front of me. It's getting nasty out there. I guess I shouldn't complain too much, though, we really need the rain.
Ever since daddy died and the ranch was left to me, I've been struggling. First, the entire staff quit, refusing to listen to a woman, and then we got hit by this drought. Maybe this storm will be the end of that.
Just as I was about to pull myself away from the window, I heard a loud bang on my porch. My eyes shot to my front door, and just as I was about to grow the courage to approach, it was slammed open.
Two men burst into my home, sopping wet. One blonde and the other brunet, both with bright blue eyes. The blonde had his arm slung around his friends shoulders, the other hand clutching to his abdomen. Upon making eye contact, the brunet pulled out a pistol and aimed it at me. I backed into the wall, dropping my blanket and raising my hands in the air. I tried to push back the tears that were building up in my eyes.
"Lady, we don't want no trouble. My friend here is hurt, okay?" The man muttered through his teeth, eyes watching me cautiously.
"That gun says otherwise," I whispered back.
"I put the gun down, you promise you ain't gonna holler for someone? Where's your husband?" He asked as his friend groaned.
"No husband. My father died a few months ago. No one for me to holler to. No neighbors, and I'm miles from town." I told him. His eyebrows furrowed, but he finally broke eye contact to take in his surroundings. Once satisfied that it was just me in the house, he put the gun back in his holster. He led his friend to the couch, letting him fall onto the furniture. The man groaned again.
"Is he okay?" I asked softly, looking at the blonde man. Unlike the brunet he had a scruffy beard covering his face. His friend took off both of their hats, sitting them onto the coffee table, and just like that, I was backing up to the wall again.
"He look okay?" The man snapped.
I know these men. Their faces are plastered on every wanted poster in town. They're outlaws. They've probably killed more men than I could count and stolen more money than I can imagine.
"You're Bucky Barnes. That's Steve Rogers." My throat was tight, and I found it hard to swallow. There's a shot gun in the house but I'd have to get to the bedroom. The mans eyes widened as he turned back to me.
"Lady, we're not gonna hurt you. I swear on my Ma's life. Don't do anything rash." He held his hand out as if I were wild horse he were trying to approach. I took a deep breath. If I help them maybe he'll stick to his word.
"Gunshot wound?" I asked. The man nodded slowly. "The bullet still in there?" Another nod.
I walked to the bathroom, grabbing the metal container that held my emergency equipment. Growing up on a ranch, accidents are bound to happen, and this wouldn't be the first bullet I pulled from a man. My next stop was the kitchen where I grabbed an unopened bottle of whiskey. Last thing I grabbed, a leather belt.
"Here." I handed him the whiskey as I pulled the coffee table forward to sit on. He talked Steve into taking three big gulps.of the alcohol. Next I handed him the leather belt. "Have him bite down on this. I'm gonna get that bullet it out and stitch up the wound, but it's gonna hurt like hell."
Surprisingly Bucky followed each step I had given him. I poured some of the whiskey over the wound, grabbed my tweezers, and got to work.
I'm not sure how long it took, but by the time I was done my hands were bloody and Steve's wound was sewn shut. By the time I had wrapped the gauze around his torso he was passed out.
The storm was just as bad as it had been when they got here.
"You'll need to take him to a doctor. What I did will work but I'm no professional." I brushed the hair that sat on Steve's forehead away from his eyes. He looks so soft when he's asleep.
"Shoot, that's probably the best medical he's ever had done," Bucky chuckled. "Say, you think I could leave him here a couple of days? We had to run outta there, and there's a couple of things I need to take care of."
"It's still storming," my eyebrows furrowed.
"Ah, I'll be fine. You promise you won't go to the sheriff while I'm gone?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No, I won't go to the sheriff." I rolled my eyes. I didn't really want him to stay here, but I'd like to stay on their good side. "Will you help me move him to the spare bedroom? It'll be more comfortable for him than the couch."
He didn't need my help at all. He moved him his own just fine, but he didn't seem to care he was injured anymore. He very roughly dropped him on the bed. He gave me a smile before walking back towards the door.
"Oh, shouldn't you take his oants and boots off?" My face burned, and I knew I was flushed. "He soaking wet. He already got my couch all wet, I don't want that mattress wet, too."
Bucky looked at me and chuckled. He laughed at my embarrassment. "What you've never taken a man's pants off before?"
"I don't know him. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea." I muttered through my teeth. "After all I've done to help you, it's the least you can do."
He chuckled once more before walking over to his friend and tugging the wet clothes off of him.
"And for God's sake, put his head on the pillow and pull the blanket over him!" I can't anymore with these men. They're ruining my evening.
I didn't even wait to see if he listened to me. I just left the room and went to the kitchen, finally making a bowl of the stew that had been simmering over the stove.
"I'll be back in a few days, a week at the most. Don't let him leave." Bucky said as he walked to the front door, his muddy boots tracking through my house.
"How do you expect me to stop him?" I shouted but he was already gone. I heard the neighing of a horse and I knew he had left.
I took a deep breath and quickly walked over, pushing a chair in front of my door. I ate my late dinner before putting out all of my lamps. As I walked to my room I peaked in on the outlaw in my spare bed room.
What am I going to do with him?
