Page 47 of Rust and Stardust

“Should we get downstairs like she said?”

I stared at Lucas, my eyes wide. “I’m terrified to go… but I think I’m more terrified of Mabel if we don’t go…”

Lucas and I exchanged nervous glances, the passion from moments ago replaced by a gnawing anxiety in the pit of my stomach. We reluctantly disentangled ourselves and slipped out of bed, fumbling for our discarded clothes from the night before.

“Maybe she just assumed...” Lucas whispered as he pulled on his jeans, his fingers trembling slightly as he fastened the buttons.

I shook my head, tugging my shirt over my head. “Mabel doesn't assume, darlin'. She knows. I just don’t know how she figured it out.”

“Well… I mean… I am in your room.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Somethin’ else tipped her off. Or someone.”

We crept down the stairs, the old wooden floorboards creaking beneath our feet. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen, along with the sizzle of bacon on the stove. My stomach churned, a mix of hunger and dread.

As we rounded the corner into the kitchen, Mabel stood at the counter, her back to us as she flipped slices of bacon in the hot pan.

“Beau, fix a cup for yourself and your guest and take a seat.”

“Yes ma’am.”

My hands shook as I poured two mugs of steaming coffee, stealing glances at Lucas. His face was pale, his usual confidence replaced by nervous energy as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He seemed just as worked up as I was, although I wasn’t really sure why. I was the one that had to keep on living in Sagebrush after the fair. We sat at the worn kitchen table, the familiar checkered cloth now feeling like an interrogation room setup.

Mabel turned, flipping the stove off and wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes, usually warm and inviting, now held a stern glint that made me want to sink into the floor.

“Now,” she began, her voice steady as she placed a plate of bacon between us. “I reckon it's time we had ourselves a little chat.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Lucas reached under the table, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

“Mabel, I can explain-” I finally managed to croak out.

She held up a hand, silencing me before I could even start.

Mabel's stern expression softened slightly as she pulled out a chair and sat down across from us. “Beau Turner, I've known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Did you really think you could keep this a secret from me? Besides, I saw you two kissin’ the day you rescued Lucas from Daisy.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the steaming coffee in front of me. “I... I didn't know how to tell you, Mabel. I was… I was scared.”

She reached across the table, patting my hand gently. “Oh, honey. You should know better than that. There's nothin’ in this world that could make me love you any less. You’re as good as my own son, and the closest thing I have to a child of my own. Nothin’, short of murder, could make me think less of you. And even then, I might defend you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them back furiously. “But... but what about the ranch? What about my pa's legacy?”

Mabel's eyes flashed with a hint of mischief. “Your pa's legacy is fine. That has nothin’ to do with you anyway. We’ve all known for some time that ranchin’ wasn’t in your blood. You got too much talent for mendin’ fences and chasin’ cattle. Besides, we’ve known about the rest of it for some time too.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but it was quickly replaced by confusion. “What do you mean, you've all known?”

Mabel chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Beau, honey, you ain't exactly been subtle. The way you've been mopin' around these past few years, turnin' down every nice girl in town... We all had our suspicions. Hell, when you turned down Amber May, your father was the one who knew that you didn’t like girls.” She let out a little huff, crossing her arms. “It was me that didn’t see the truth until the other day.”

Lucas cleared his throat, speaking up for the first time. “So... you're okay with this? With us?”

Mabel turned her gaze to Lucas, studying him intently. “Well now, that depends. What are your intentions with our Beau here?”

I felt my cheeks burn hot as Lucas squeezed my hand under the table. “I... I care about him deeply, ma'am. More than I've ever cared for anyone.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“But…”

“But what?” she asked, that smile melting away in an instant.

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