Page 57 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"You know, as a former, recovering outlaw, I find that phrasing offensive."

"Say what now?"

I chuckled. “Just a joke, you know, because they usually hang people like me rather than throw them on a ranch and make them work."

"Oh, that's true," he said, unsure if he should laugh or be uncomfortable. "Well, Ambrose seems to trust ya. He's not like his daddy, but he's good at what he does."

"Not exactly the trusting sort. Not that I can blame him all that much."

"Like I told you the first night I found ya walkin' around?—"

"If I remember correctly, you referred to it as skulking when you saw me."

"Well, now I know you were just walkin' around. But used to be I was the only one you'd find out here at this time of night. Anyway, like I told you that night, he ain't the quickest to trust, especially with your past. Don't mean he's so stubborn that he can't eventually see past it, and look...he is."

Ambrose saw a lot more than that, but I didn't think I needed to give away our secret to this sweet, relatively innocent man. Not that the thought didn't bubble up in my head from time to time, but having impulses that were destructive, disruptive, or just trouble wasn't new for me. Sometimes, I swore there was someone else living in my head who craved chaos in a way I only vaguely understood. Like now, wanting to blurt out that I was planning to sneak to Ambrose's cabin to get naked and have him deep inside me to see the look on poor Walter's face.

A little mean, perhaps, but still, that part of my mind cackled at the idea. It was something I’d just come to understand about myself. Ambrose wasn't wrong when he accused me of wanting to start trouble because some part of medidwant to start trouble constantly. What he didn't seem to understand, at least not right now, was that, for the most part, I had control of that part of me. As much delight as causing trouble brought me, I knew damn well how destructive it could be and kept it on a tight leash and under a watchful eye.

"It's awfully nice of you to be so willing to look past my history," I told Walter, and I meant it. Although most of themen on the ranch had begun treating me like a person, they’d been slow to get there. Walter, however, from the moment I met him, had been kind and accepting despite the apparent hatred of outlaws in these parts.

I had met a few souls like him before, those for whom kindness and understanding came as easily as malice and cruelty came to others. However, it said a lot about the world that the latter was more common than the former. Sometimes, I wondered what it was like to go through life with that sort of wisdom that sometimes bordered on foolish...or insane. Not that I could make myself that way to find out; our lives forged us to be the way we were, and if there were ways to change yourself from the ground up, I had yet to see it.

But perhaps...just maybe, there were ways to changesomethings.

"Aww, there's no reason to make a big deal outta it," he said, making me smile at his bashfulness. "Ya seemed like an alright type, and look, ya ain't done nothin' but work hard...well, and give Ambrose a hard time."

Oh, if only he knew how hard a time I really wanted to give him. “You were the one who said he needed it."

"Well, he can get a bit serious at times, havin' someone around him who...well, don't take things quite as seriously as he does."

"You are aware that it just makes him mad, right?"

Walter chuckled. “Yeah, well, can't say that's too hard to manage. He's been like that...well, forever, I reckon. I heard he wasn't like that as a boy, but things can change when ya get older. Maybe you'll just make him mad, but...he don't seem quite as mad anymore."

"You and I have two very different ideas of him being mad," I said with a laugh, though I wasn't necessarily dismissing his opinion. Walter had known Ambrose for far longer than me, andwould recognize differences in him. Of course, I couldn't tell him that any positive changes in Ambrose's behavior were probably because he was getting sexual relief rather than because he was starting to see the fun in life or, despite my insistence, to Ambrose's face, because of my charming personality.

"I guess it's hard to see, comin' so late to things," Walter chuckled, looking up at the moon. "But I think I'm gonna keep walkin'. If I stay out too late, Arthur wakes up and won't go back to sleep until I return. I might not get much sleep, but it's good he does."

An ache warmed my chest, remembering my father and his kindness toward his only son, but also the grief of losing him even all these years later. "Then you had best keep moving. Be a responsible father."

He winked. “You try for some of that responsibility yourself. Maybe it'll suit ya."

"Don't hold out too much hope for that," I snorted. "You take care of yourself, Walter."

Walter waved as he continued walking, while I lingered as if enjoying the cool night when, in reality, I was listening to the sound of his footsteps. I didn't think Walter suspected anything out of the ordinary, and if he even wondered, he wasn't the type to pull tricks or spy on people. He seemed more content with his life than most people, and part of me envied the peace surrounding him. But I also knew better than to wish for things that would never be. There was enough to regret about my life without getting stuck obsessing over things I couldn't change.

Once I was sure he’d gone far enough away he wouldn't accidentally happen to glance over and see where I was going, I resumed making my way toward Ambrose's cabin.

I continued to let the sounds of the ranch wash over me as I walked, both familiar and new. I had always been the sort who didn't get much sleep and was used to being awake whenothers were sleeping. Most people didn't tend to sleep all that differently, so all the snores, grumbles, and thumps of someone hitting a wall with a stray limb were familiar. Yet the mixture of sounds here was different, and I would need another couple of weeks to truly learn the intricacies that made up the symphony of Isaiah Ranch while it slept.

The last turn was coming up. I made sure my pace never faltered and didn't let myself take a bracing breath. To hesitate was to admit I was afraid he was going to turn me down, which was a fear I did not need to let in. Trying to brace for the light to be on would be to accept I was nervous about tonight with him, which carried implications I did not want to endure.

So I marched forward, knowing that if anyone saw me, they would not detect the slightest hint of wariness in my walk. I rounded the corner, and if my heart skipped a beat when I saw the light, I saw no reason to admit that to anyone. Let that be between myself and the Good Lord if he was actually around and keeping an eye on me.

It was only when I reached the cabin that I realized I hadn't planned this. I didn't want to risk making too much noise and riling up Bear, who I knew slept with Ambrose in his cabin. A glance through one of the windows showed a bare foot hanging off the edge of the bed and little else, which meant Ambrose must have fallen asleep waiting for me.

Well, if I was going to risk setting Bear off, I might as well do it with conviction and hope for the best. Rather than trying to wake Ambrose up, I pulled open the door and let myself in. The only light came from the lantern on a small table against the wall between the bed and the door where I stood.

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