Page 9 of Tusks & Saddles
Will undid her rope, avoiding getting blood on her hands the best she could. While it wasn’t the best way to start their cattle push, a little boar attack wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. It wasn’t a sand slither, that was for sure. A pissed off, confused boar was the least of their problems. It was a week of pushing through the desert, and if they could make it to the valley without incident, she’d call it a win. Betty huffed at her when she climbed back up, but she’d soothe her steed over with a sugar cube and apple for her good work.
Her father got her Betty when she was fifteen as a show of faith that she could take on some independent responsibilities around the ranch. They were practically raised together. She taught Betty all the tricks she knew, and her steed trusted the Enriyes to do good by her.
Betty helped Will steer the last bit of the herd into a collection before Roger threw out the magic grass seeds. As the little yellow pellets hit the sand, Will sprinkled the seeds with their enchanted watering can. It helped the grass grow. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to distract the steer. They’d clump together and munch a little bit, then grow sleepy as the sun fully set over the dunes beyond them. By morning, the grass would dry up and turn into dust. Rinse and repeat until they got to the valleys with actual grass. It kept them from starving in the endless sea of sand.
As a massive, emerald patch of grass exploded around the cattle, she walked Betty out to the side where Boone was setting up camp. This far out in the sands, it didn’t matter what side they were on. There was no good side. No good cover from the wind or the sun or rain by some miracle. Nothing sturdy enough for tents, so the Paladin just set out a massive blanket and weighed it down with their packs.
Will walked Betty up to their camp, pulling out her feeder bag. Betty tossed her hair about, tapping from left to right in excitement as her owner dropped an extra sugar cube in with her feed for her trouble. Then, pulling an apple out of her pack, she carved it up into more manageable bites before tossing that in as well.
“You spoil that horse,” Boone commented.
Will and Betty both glared at the Paladin, his hands cracking firewood into the small pit he’d dug for them. Between dousing the sand in water to clump it together, then dropping rocks he’d gathered up from around them to line the thing, he was inches away from a hearty fire that, regrettably, wouldn't last them most of the night.
“She’s worth spoiling,” Willamina murmured, turning to change out her horse’s rein for her feed bag. Betty excitedly booped her owner on the cheek with her nose before happily sinking her face into the feed bag. When Willamina returned her attention to Boone, she found Kaffa, Gracie’s horse eyeing her with desperation. Willamina chuckled to herself as she carved up another apple and tossed them in with two sugar cubes for Kaffa’s bag. The chocolate-colored steed whinnied softly, trotting up to the Enriyes’ side for her special treat. “They’re good horses.”
“Didn’t say they wasn’t,” Boone teased.
“And if two sugar cubes and an apple is spoiling, I’d hate to see what you consider rotten, Boone Larokson.” She cocked a brow in his direction.
Boone was grinning behind his tusks, but his focus was on setting up a roast spit for the boar they’d caught. Her stomach flipped when he peeked up, landing those yellow eyes on her. The sun was setting behind the dunes, casting him in a hazy, orange glow. It showed off the little hairs that escaped his ponytail from the wind whipping around them. The sweat glistening on his skin from a long day in the sun. And the splatter of blood on his right cheek. Without a second thought, she sauntered up, using her sleeve to wipe it off his cheek. Boone froze, eyes wide as she brushed his soft cheekbones.
Red hot embarrassment licked up her insides like acid reflux, reminding her that he’d practically saw her naked that morning. That he’d not just seen her, but his eyes roamed her, like he was studying her… like he’d saved her to memory. She let out a strangled breath, “Blood…you oughta change your shirt too…”
“Oh,” he glanced down to the front of his shirt where blood splattered it.
Like the fucking idiot he was, Boone set the spit aside and grabbed ahold of his shirt. He tugged it off without a second thought and Willamina blanched. “Boone!”
“What?” He pushed up onto his feet, rolling up his shirt to swipe at the small smear of blood along his chest.Oh don’t you dare, you absolute ninny.But she did it anyway. She stood still, eyes tracing him from throat to hip. Boone was a big boy, broad shoulders, thick as a century old tree trunk, big arms, and a sharp scar that ran down along his belly. She knew the story; he told Jacobus, who then rushed to tell her about how cool Boone was. He stopped some bandits from robbing a cleric temple. One of the idiots gothim good with a short sword, and then Boone tore through them like wet paper.
He bent over to grab a shirt out of his bag, stuffing the soiled one in a different compartment and she got a full view of his back. Her eyebrows furrowed as she traced four long lines down his spine, between his shoulder blades.
“You get into a battle with a dire wolf or something?” she blurted out, grimacing as she realized… asking the question meant she was looking. And looking meant she was interested.I absolutely am not interested whatsoever in my brother’s best friend!Just…curious, is all.
“What are you talking…oh, the scar on my back? Forget it’s there most days,” Boone hummed before tugging on a fresh shirt. “I tackled a banshee back at the stronghold. Got up to drain the dragon, so to speak, and found her sucking the life out of some poor kid wandering the halls late at night.”
“Uh-huh,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.Of fucking course you got them doing some daring rescue.Boone twisted to face her, tucking his shirt down into his pants. Pants she definitely didn’t glance at quickly before correcting her attention to his face.
He laughed, “I promise it’s not a lover’s scar.”
“What!” she barked, stumbling back into the side of Betty. Her horse huffed into her feeder bag but stayed firm behind her, like a brick wall.Trapping me here with him and his ‘definitely not a lover’s claw marks’.“Why would…I didn’t… What do I care if you got lovers clawing up your back? None of my business.”
“Jacobus refuses to believe me. Says I definitely got them from a banshee, but I wasn’t tacklin’ her out of a window into the castle gardens.” Boone shrugged. Willamina stared at him, speechless.Well, I hadn’t considered anything like that up until you fucking pointed it out.The entire time he’d been in Irongarde, Will knew for a fact Boone wasn’twithanyone. If he wasn’t working jobs, he was attheir ranch helping out Jacobus or sleeping. If the Paladin had a lover, she’d know...right?Not that I care.
“You shouldn’t…just rip your clothes off willy-nilly, Boone! You’re my brother’s best friend, but you ain’t my brother. Not even Roger gets down to his fur around me. Ain’t…well, just you shouldn’t do shit like that. Okay?” She didn’t want to comment about lover’s claw marks or how long it’d been since she’d raked her own nails down someone’s back. Or the fact that she would knew for absolute certain if the Paladin was sleeping around. People in Irongarde talked, and she’d know.Especially given how some people sniffed after him for the first two years he was here.
“Sorry,” he licked his lips, obviously trying to fight a smile, “guess that makes us even.”
“Heh, yeah,” she sputtered, crossing her arms over her chest. Boone arched a brow in her direction and the heat from before burned through her cheeks. “We’re even.”
“Good,” Boone murmured, returning to his job with the spit. She waited till he was too busy to notice, then she crept up toward him and the campfire starting to catch. Slowly lowering to the ground, trying not to run like a skittish deer, she watched him work meticulously with the boar’s carcass. He’d already cleaned and skinned it, the hide already lying out to dry on a big rock nearby. Roger eventually joined them, having removed some of his own outer layers and sat down comfortably across the fire.
“Herd’s settled,” Roger stated.
“Thanks. Alright, I think we’ve earned a beer with dinner.” Willamina dragged the food sack up the blanket and rifled through it. As Boone started roasting the boar, Roger leaning back against a rock, the horses snacking in their feeder bags, Willamina handed out frosty beers. There weren’t many, but she kept a few on hand.For nights like this.
“To the last push,” Roger raised his bottle.
“To the new season coin we’re about to make,” Willamina grinned, clinking her bottle with Roger’s.
