Page 30 of Tusks & Saddles
“Wait? Really?” Roger let out a low whistle. “Riding in style!”
“Something like that,” Boone snorted. Willamina Jones caught a subtle movement, but as Betty and Killer greeted each other, Roger babbling about the train, she saw Boone reach a hand down. He patted Kaffa’s neck affectionately and whispered in her ear. When he glanced up, she arched her brow in question. He chuckled, “I told her I owed her a few apples; she gave a battalion of Paladins a run for their money. Earned her some pampering the second we get home.”
Will laughed all the way to the train station.
Chapter Sixteen
Boone
“Wooooow, this is nice! Why don’t we ride the train every time?” Roger whistled as they stepped into the train cabin.
“Because we’re transporting five hundred to a thousand angry heads of moo,” Willamina grumbled, throwing her bag immediately onto the top shelf. Boone stepped inside, hand already raised and popped it back into place as it rolled back toward her. He slung his own bag up there with hers. It was two long, fabric booth seats that were deep enough to sleep on if necessary. Unfortunately, it would be. Two days minimum back to Irongarde. Thankfully, the ride was smooth, and at least on the train they didn’t have to deal with Sand Slithers or scorpions.
“I know that!” Roger huffed, swatting at Will with his hat. “I meant on the ride back.”
“Why waste money on the ride when we rode into town?” Will shrugged, sinking down into the seat. The train whistled over their heads. Boone sat down just as it lurched forward. They made it to the train station with enough time to get the horses settled in the cattle car, munching on hay and other treats for having made it through the push. Then they went to their cabins to settle in. A ticket collector stopped by within an hour to punch their tickets and take their meal requests.
Willamina took a pillow out of the drawer under the seat, threw it into Boone’s lap, and laid herself down. Roger was already stretched out in his seat, cowboy hat over his face. All he was missing was a piece of hay to paint the perfect cowboy picture. Boots kicked up, plaid shirt and dirty jeans, and snoozing away.
It wasn’t till after Will fell asleep and the cabin filled with their light snoring, Boone pulled out the notebook in his pocket. He flipped it open and used the flat ledge of the seat to write a note for Welby. He didn’t know how to send his brother a message and he wasn’t looking forward to figuring out how to do it. So, instead, he wrote:
I’m not sure what woman you need advice on, Welby. Just know that people are complicated. The best advice I’ve got is to figure out how they need to be loved. Some people need soft hands and tenderness because they’ve been used to cutting their hands on love. This woman might need patience, like opening a glass lock, all it takes is a steady hand and time. Or she might need someone who’s not scared because all they’ve known is people running while screaming. Once you know what it is they need, you gotta ask yourself if that’s the kind of love you can provide, and if they’ll provide what you need back. I know it’s not concrete advice. I don’t really live a life in solids or for certains. What I do know is if your heart says ‘that’s them, that’s the one’, that you should listen to it. I did and I hope you will. And whatever you do, don’t fucking trust anyone with a dumb name like Timothy Two Toes!
May the Sun Bringer shine upon you and this lady you’re all worked up about,
Boone.
He folded it in half, pressed his thumb to it, and summoned the Sun Bringer’s messenger. A tiny soot sprite, a three-inch-tall body made of ash and crispy bits with big eyes that glowed red, appeared in a puff of smoke. They stood on his left leg, two legs, a pair of smokey wings, and plumes of hazy gray coming off of them. He handed the little messenger the letter and nodded. The sprite chittered softly before it disappeared in another puff of smoke. Once his goddess’ messenger disappeared, he finally sat back in his seat. He was attempting to get comfortable when he felt Will shift. Like she’d read his mind, she speared a hand under the seat, pulled out a pillow, and smacked him in the tusks with it. He chuckled, taking it and stuffing it behind his head. He threw his right arm down the length of the booth seat, the other behind his head on the pillow. Eyes closed, feet stretched out, he knew sleep was only a few inches away.
“Who were you writing to?” she murmured, settling back down into his lap.
“Welby, my brother, he asked me about advice on women,” Boone chortled gruffly, his voice low and rumbling from exhaustion.
“You tell him that you only like mean girls?” she teased shortly before yawning. He dropped a palm to her backside. The small, smack sound bounced around the cabin. He cracked an eye open, catching her just as she popped the collar on her shirt to hide the blush that was likely coating her full face. Boone gave her ass a softer, smaller pat then threw his arm back along the cabin wall.
“Get some shut eye, Baby.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she huffed.
“Woman, if you don’t—”
“Do I need a new cabin?” Roger blurted out, lifting his hat up and glaring at them. Boone cackled in response. Willamina grumbledto herself but ultimately settled into the cushion. Sleep took the three of them fast, and it held them tight for several hours.Just until lunch arrived; never did get to eat my lunch.
Boone stepped off the train into the dusty, hot air of Irongarde. He used his hat to wave off all the dust that collected around him. The deep orange of afternoon sun filled his vision as Roger and Willamina stepped out behind him from the cattle cart. They each took a pair of reins and walked out into the town. The train whistled behind them, announcing its departure as they wove through the crowds around the station. Something nearby caught Will’s attention and the three stopped.
“Willamina Jones! What are you doing getting off the train!”
Boone watched as Gracie came barreling up the street, leaving her stroller in her husband’s confused hands. Gracie was just a blur of chestnut hair and delighted squeals before she tackled Will to the ground. Betty and Kaffa snorted, dancing excitedly as the two women laughed, rolling on the ground. Boone grimaced at Roger who shrugged, climbing up onto Killer’s saddle. The pair continued the ride to the ranch, leaving Boone trapped with two horses in hand and social expectations.
Gracie pulled the pair off the ground. She was the same height as Will with pointed ears, big honey eyes, and shiny fangs that glinted in the sunlight while she spoke rapidly. “I can’t believe you rode the train back! You hate trains! What are you doing? How did the push go? Why aren’t you answering me? Oh! Hi, Boone!”
“Hello,” Boone gave her a polite nod. “I should get the horses back.”
“Wait! Kaffa, girl, I missed you! How were you?” Gracie rambled at top speed as she came up to hug the horse. Kaffa whinnied for her happily, nuzzling her head down onto Gracie’s shoulder. The werewolf was in a cotton dress, something soft that Kaffa and Betty nibbled at playfully as she gave them both big hugs.
Will laughed sheepishly, “It’s a long story. You should get back to the kids.”
“What? You just got off your first train ride and you don’t want to talk about it?” Gracie huffed, pulling back to stare at Will.
