Page 53 of Saddle and Scent
Alright. I like her.
"You been here long?" I ask, leaning against the porch railing.
There's something about her scent that catches my attention—sweet but muted, like honey diluted in water.
It tickles at my senses, familiar but wrong somehow, like a song played in the wrong key.
She hefts her mail bag with a grunt.
"Six months, give or take. Transferred here from Portland, which was its own special kind of hell, but at least the roads there were paved."
I tilt my head, studying her.
The scent thing is really bothering me now.
"Not to be weird, but... are you an Omega? Your scent's giving hints but it's so faint it's hard to tell."
Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she schools her expression back to casual amusement. She glances around like she's checking for eavesdroppers, then leans in close enough that I catch a stronger whiff of that diluted sweetness.
"Shh," she says, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't go spreading my secret around. Name's Piper, and yeah, I'm an Omega. But I've been dosing with suppressants and scent blockers since I got here. Was warned that playing Beta was the smarter move in a town like this."
"Warned by who?" I ask, though I can guess the answer.
"The postmaster in Portland. His cousin used to live here, told him Saddlebrush is one of those towns that doesn't take kindly to newcomers. Especially not Omega newcomers." She straightens up, adjusting her bag. "After six months, I'm grateful for the advice. This place is...intense."
"That's one word for it," I agree, thinking of yesterday's gauntlet through town. "How've you been surviving?"
Piper laughs, a bright sound that seems too big for the quiet morning.
"By keeping my head down, doing my job, and investing in industrial-strength suppressants. Though honestly? Some days I wonder if it's worth it. The pills make me feel like I'm walking around wrapped in cotton, you know?"
I do know.
I'd tried suppressants in the city, hoping they'd make dating easier, make me less aware of every Alpha in a three-block radius. All they did was make me feel like a ghost of myself, drifting through life without ever really touching it.
"Things have been rather... tricky," I admit, which might be the understatement of the century.
She gives me an appraising look, taking in my still-damp hair, the oversized t-shirt, the general air of someone who's been through the emotional wringer before 8 AM.
"Tricky's one word for it," she says with a knowing grin. "But you look like a badass Omega to me. I'm sure you've got things handled. Sometimes you just gotta show these small-town Alphas you're not here to play their games."
"Trying to," I say, though I'm not sure how successful I've been so far. "Some days are better than others."
"Ain't that the truth." She digs into her bag, producing a small stack of mail. "Anyway, got some stuff for you. Mostly junk, but there's something official-looking from the county.Probably about property taxes or some other bureaucratic bullshit designed to make our lives harder."
I take the mail, flipping through it absently.
Bill, bill, credit card offer, something from the county that does indeed look ominous, and... a handwritten envelope with no return address.
My name is scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting.
"Want some coffee?" I offer, tucking the mystery letter to the back of the stack. "Or water? Hell, I might even have some juice somewhere if you're feeling adventurous."
Piper considers this, squinting at her watch.
"You know what? You're actually my last delivery for the morning. Started my route at 4 AM, so I could definitely use the caffeine."
"Four in the morning?" I gawk at her. "That's ungodly. Even the roosters aren't up that early."
