OverTime 03: Slipping (First 70 Chapters)

Chapter 35: Paying by the Word (Lillabit)

CHAPTER 35: Paying by the Word (Lillabit)

(was Hashtag Fort Laramie)

Luckily for Jacob, I couldn't hold a grudge for long. Not against him, anyway. Against the cavalry, for ruining our beautiful morning?

Oh yeah.

But against my husband for getting a teensy bit stressed about standing alone and unarmed between me and whatever danger they represented? No. No, I was going to be a cheerful, supportive wife, damn it.

Most of the morning, although cut short, had proven just how worthwhile being Jacob's wife could be!

Halfway back to the herd, unwilling to ride in silence any longer, I started singing what I could remember of the "Darling Clementine" song, and I took some satisfaction in watching Jacob's shoulders relax as I did. When I made up some verses--G-rated versions, unlike with slutty Betsy of Pike--he even glanced at me with his almost-a-smile eyes.

Then I took my Clema riding

And I'd say she did just fine

'Cept her saddle kept a'sliding

Mind the cinch, my Clementine.

It was nowhere as enjoyable as our time in the river, before Jacob turned all bossy on me. But it reminded me that arguments could be temporary.

At one point, once the chuck wagon and the wife cart came into view, he said, "Ho!" and stopped his mare. I practiced stopping Valley Boy by leaning back, rather than tugging back on the reins.

"What?" I asked, while Jacob tugged the faded scarf from around his neck.

He held the scarf out and said, "Lick it."

I said, "Excuse me?" Was this some kind of test of my ability to follow orders? Because if it was, I was about to fail spectacularly.

With a sigh, he licked his own bandana, then reached across the space between our horses and rubbed it, hard, down the side of my face a couple of times, until satisfied with the result.

Great. I'd had mud on my face this whole time--the Old West was turning out to be a very dirty place. Now I had husband-spit on my face.

"Thank you?" I hedged, and he nodded his you're welcome, seemingly ignorant of my sarcasm.

Okay, so ours was a complicated relationship. Complicated enough that Jacob didn't come to our tent until really late that night, although in time to interrupt whatever slippery dream my subconscious had begun to tempt me with--something about showers.

A lot of my most seductive thoughts of home involved indoor plumbing.

When I started to rouse enough to kiss my husband, choosing him even over hot running water, he hushed me. "Go back to sleep."

Sleep proved too powerful, especially curled against his chest. So he got the last word with that one, too.

And the next morning? Finally. Finally!

The next morning--after I milked Sundae--we rode to Fort Laramie!

We, in this case, meant Jacob, Benj, me, and a pack-mule from the remuda. I'd decided to wear my second best dress, the one with the gray stripes and the berry buttons, because my best dress was my wedding dress and... I don't know. It felt wrong to overuse it. I even put my clean hair up in a loose bun, after Amos told me married ladies weren't supposed to wear it down.