Burnt Steak [2017] [P/UP]

☆2☆

Obnoxiously loud snoring woke me up that mornin', an' one glance at the time told me it was still a little early for me t' be up.

I groaned as the snoring continued an' pounded on the wall that separated my bedroom from my brother's.

"Shut up, Clyde!" I shouted, still half asleep.

When the snores didn't stop I groaned again an' got outta bed.

Might as well start makin' breakfast.

Throwin' on a skirt and a shirt, I grabbed my hat an' pulled on my boots before walking outside to feed Charlotte, get milk from the cow, an' a few eggs from the hen for breakfast.

Haulin' everythin' back into the kitchen, I started fryin' up the eggs an' toastin' some bread for breakfast.

Glancin' t' my left, I noticed the bag'a food from Joe's saloon on the counter an' sighed, realizin' that Bardroy an' I never actually ate—

I stopped short suddenly as yesterday's memories finally came back t' me.

It wasn't Clyde that was snorin', it was my unexpected guest.

My face flushed about twenty different shades of red as I took the eggs an' toast off'a the stove.

What in God's name was I thinkin' lettin' a strange man into my home?! He could be a murder, or a rapist, or somethin' and I just let him waltz in here! Southwestern hospitality can only go so far when you're a woman livin' on yer own.

"Ugh, my 'ead..." I heard a deep, cockney accented voice groan from behind me. "And my leg. Christ, what did I do?"

I turned an' pursed my lips at Bardroy as he shuffled outta Clyde's room. "Good mornin', Mister Bardroy. I made breakfast."

Slidin' a plate an' a glass'a milk across the dining table, I nearly grinned at the loud growl that came from the blonde's stomach. Well, he didn't seem like a murderous rapist.

"Eat up, then I'm gonna take a look at that bite'a yours."

The man shuddered at the mention of the snake bite an' I laughed. "A big fella like you 'fraid of snakes, huh?"

Bardroy scowled around a mouthful of eggs an' swallowed quickly. "I'm a soldier, I'm not afraid of anything!"

I took a bite of my own breakfast and jumped up onto the counter next t' the stove, a teasin' grin on my face as I watched him eat.

"'Cept for snakes, right?"

Bardroy sputtered an' began t' cough, pounding on his chest as I laughed. He reached for the milk, then began choking all over again, slammin' the glass back down.

"It's warm...!" He coughed, starin' at the milk in alarm.

I snorted. "Sure is. Straight from the cow. Don't got any of that fancy new refrigeration here, so you're gonna hafta deal with warm milk, warm water, warm everythin' really."

Bardroy just sighed an' shook his head, one hand reachin' up t' ruffle his hair.

A knock at the front door came t' my attention an' for a second I was confused, then I groaned as I realized who it could be.

Stompin' t' the door, I swung it open just as the man in the suit behind it was about t' knock again.

The weasel's name was Elliot Monroe, and he'd been tryin' t' buy papa's ranch from me since Clyde left with mama an' the triplets.

The scraggly man grinned an' removed his hat, showin' slicked back black hair.

"Ah, Miss Tilly! I've come with a new proposal for you!" He reached into his jacket an' pulled out a sheet of paper covered in words that I didn't understand.

I scowled an' crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned against the doorframe. "Get that thing outta my face, Monroe. You know I can't read." 

Elliot's grin never faltered as he took a step closer. "My dear, I insist that'cha listen to my offer. A mighty powerful drought is headed your way and if you don't get out soon, I'm afraid that'cha animals might not make it."

My scowl deepened. "For the last time, no. I ain't sellin' papa's ranch. Now kindly get your behind off'a my property. I've got company an' I don't want them t' hafta look at your slimy face."

Elliot's eyes widened at the mention of my havin' company an' he craned his neck t' look past me into my home.

The weasel gasped an' looked back down t' me. "My dear, you best be married to that man, or else I won't be able to stop the rumors that will spread."

My eyes widened at that, then I snarled. "There won't be no rumors if you keep yer mouth shut, Monroe!" I didn't need the kinda reputation he was insinuatin'.

A sly smirk crossed Elliot's face and he shrugged. "Well I would love to, but my hands are tied! If only there were some way for me to make sure this whole ordeal stays hush-hush."

He held out the paper again an', after a moment of hesitation, I growled an' snatched it outta his hand.

"I'll think about it." I snarled. "Come back in a week an' I'll give ya an answer."

Elliot put on his original grin an' stuck his hat back on his head. "Thank you kindly for your business, my dear." And with that he was gone.

I slammed the door closed an' stormed back t' the dinin' table.

"Can ya read?" I asked Bardroy.

After a second of shock he nodded an' I slammed the paper down on the table in front'a him. "Read it for me, please."

The soldier took the paper in his hands an' cleared his throat before starting.

"To Miss Nevada W. Tilly, for the land and properties of the deceased Andrew H. Tilly, this is an offer of six hundred American dollars from a Sir Elliot Q. Monroe. Included is an offer of one hundred dollars for the two cows and the one hen, as well as an extra seventy dollars for the horse. All payments will be made in the form of cash. This contract must be answered to by the 31st of July, 1885. Sighed Elliot Q. Monroe, attorney at law. Uh, it gives a place for ya to sign after that, but it says you can just put x's if ya can't write..."

I didn't hear him, though. My face was squished down on the dinin' room table an' my hands were over my head.

"What's better..." I began, my voice muffled by the table. "Bein' labeled a whore for the rest'a my life, or sellin' my ranch an' all my animals?"

"Well from what I heard, you don't wanna sell." Bardroy said after a moment'a silence. "So don't sell! Don't bow down so easily to that creep!"

I smirked at his enthusiasm, then sighed an' rested my chin in my hand.

"If I do hafta sell I'd want t' move somewhere where there's never gonna be no drought. What's the rainiest place in the world, d'ya think?"

I glanced up at Bardroy who looked t' be deep in though at my question.

"England." He finally said. "It's always raining there."

I smiled softly at him. "England it is then."