Clockwork Cowboy

Chapter 31

The wispy end of the cow's tail whipped her face in it's pursuit of the flies biting sensitive skin.

"Stand still," Nova begged, rubbing the red mark on her cheek. "We're nearly there." She moved her stool a little closer to Betsy's udder.

"Good morning."

She didn't look up. Her heart skidded out of control, and her warm hands suddenly cold and clammy. Jese.

"I didn't expect you up so early," she croaked. Brandon's advice had not been forgotten. "Sleep well?"

"Uh huh," Jese lied. He'd been kept up late with thoughts of her. Which he'd quickly replaced with thoughts of farming. It had relaxed his body. His mind had become groggy with sleep. And then Jese had remembered something from the day. It bugged him. At the time he'd spotted it (as he'd ridden around the boundaries) he'd been so wrapped up in infuriated thoughts about his wife and he hadn't noticed what was right in front of his face. But, there in the dark, Jese's drooping eyelids had flicked wide open.

He would have saddled the horse at that moment, if he wasn't cautious about creating unwanted interest. All thoughts of Nova were erased from his mind, and he'd lain sleepless... waiting for the moment he could ride out.

"You milk early," he stated. He was shocked with the simplicity of what he said, with all of the excitement - and everything he wished to tell her - he had slipped back to his usual pattern of aloof distance.

She'd gotten under his skin, worming her way into almost every thought. When he'd proposed to her she'd seemed calm enough. While incredibly attractive, her reserved personality hadn't made her the kind of woman that - he could imagine - would inspire great bouts of passion. The perfect candidate. But not a week on and she had him staring at the ceiling, sleepless despite overwhelming exhaustion.

He wondered where that first woman he'd met, with the cold hearted exterior, had disappeared to. And who was this woman that had replaced her? Just as impossible to obtain, yet tormentingly desirable.

"I wake up early to try to avoid the flies." They landed on the corner of eyes and mouths; biting flesh until the victim was beside themselves with irritation. Even in the night there were a few persistent ones were about, awoken by her lantern.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night," he said. "We have started out on the wrong foot."

"I wanted to discuss the same thing," Nova interrupted. "I won't be working as a Saloon girl any longer."

"Oh." His tone sounded dubious. Was he suspicious of the ease in which she was capitulating?

"I thought about it all night," she continued. "I want to give our marriage a chance. It'll be difficult at first, but I think with time we will find it agreeable," she choked on her words. Plastering a sincere smile across her face.

The scrutiny on his face made her stomach flip. If he didn't believe her, then her comment would have made him more suspicious, making him to watch her even more closely. And then how would she find the time to follow through with whatever scheme her childhood friend proposed? Breath held she waited in silence.

"Thank you for being so agreeable," he said finally. "I know that you find it difficult, but you won't regret it. I'll look after you, all I require is stable wife to come home to."

Nova hoped her stretched smile covered the bitter look which came to her eyes. Yes, she thought. It would be very agreeable to him if she was a nice submissive wife. Someone he could easily throw out when he wanted to replace her with his darling Magda. Chomping firmly onto her tongue Nova smiled. "I shall try to provide you with that stability."

"Great." He smiled in satisfaction.

That smile, she almost shook her head in awe. She turned away from him, before she became a victim of an impromptu swoon; carrying on with her task.

"There was another thing I wanted to speak to you about. I noticed something on my travels yesterday and I wanted to show you... Perhaps after breakfast?"

Betsy's udder empty, Nova moved the pail to a safe place away from the cow's legs. "Do tell." She had an awful feeling that he was just hoping to lure her away so that he could club her to death without an audience.

"Forgive me, but I wish to show you in person."

A male playing coy? No. Definite clubbing, or plans to forcefully consummate the marriage. "First I need to prepare breakfast for the farmhands." By then she hoped to have found the perfect reason to excuse herself from his company.

Even if his intentions weren't of the murderous kind her acting was limited, and a whole day at his side would - undoubtedly - have her throwing a tantrum or boxing him in the ears. Lifting the pail away from the stall Nova opened the gate to let the cow roam free in the yard.

#

As Nova piled the table on her porch high with food the cowhands appeared. The smell of freshly baked biscuits - slathered in cream - along with salted sow belly and creamy coffee wafted on the breeze.

"Hello, Mrs. Calhoun." Freddy winked. "Are you hoping to impress someone with this fine feast?"

Nova squirmed. The last thing she wanted was for Jese to hear that.

Nova slunk into the scullery. She wasn't that capable in the kitchen, things always ended up burnt. Most of the past decade had been spent working on the farm or tinkering at her father's work bench. Thus, her well planned breakfast had drawn plenty of loud comments.

She chipped off a chunk of solidified brown sugar and inserted it into the grinder mounted to her bench. Nova was arranging it prettily in a simple bowl when she heard Jese arrive. He took the stairs two at a time, with unexpected enthusiasm toward life. Nova wondered what could have cheered him up. What was it that he wanted to show her that day? Show her, she scoffed. Her untimely death!

"This is just what I needed," she heard Jese saying. "My God, it smells so good!"

Bringing the sugar out a short time later, Nova found all of the prettily decorated biscuits had disappeared.

"The finest breakfast I've had in years," Jese said. He licked the cream off his fingers. "There were times," he told the cowhands. "On the open range, when we dragged cattle corpses from the watering hole, and then boiled that water up for coffee."

Gagging noises resonated in reply.

"It doesn't taste half as bad as it sounds."

"Coffee stew?" Freddy asked.

"I couldn't explain it. You become surprisingly accustomed to the taste the boiled flesh."

Nova paled, as the men laughed. She'd heard plenty of stories - but the grotesque way Jese described it was enough to turn her stomach.

"I saved you some breakfast," Jese said, noticing her presence. He pushed a plate of biscuits toward her. "You are such a tiny thing. We wouldn't want you fading away."

Tiny thing? She fought bravely against the furious scowl that begged to settle on her brow, and took the plate graciously. "That was very thoughtful of you-"

He snatched a biscuit.

Around her all of the cowhands jumped to their feet, food barely digested. It was a mindset in the West where relaxing after their meal was a disgrace. Nova had taken quite some time getting used to their quick arrival and even quicker departures.

The porch had emptied and the first biscuit had only just touched her lips when the shout broke out.

"Get chur horses! A fire has broken out, 30 miles south of here!"