Out of Step
Shay walked into the kitchen, one earbud in, humming along as she started a pot of coffee and opened the fridge. Bucky had sat at the table, his annoyance mounting as she started frying bacon and eggs. He was in the dark, where were they? Where was Steve? Who was this woman really, and why was she helping him, protecting him? Bucky wanted answers but Shay wasn’t exactly volunteering the information. He ground his teeth in frustration.
“You gonna ask a question? Or just keep staring holes in the back of my head.” Her voice was light with unspoken amusement as she pulled the earpiece out.
He waited, considering. Watching her flip the bacon and grab plates.
“Why?” he asked finally.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific… how do you like your eggs?”
“Whatever you’re making is fine.” He shrugged… “The wolf?”
“Mahihkan, he’s an old boy now. Must be getting on 9 years. The pack kicked him out last winter, so he hangs close to home and Frank makes sure he doesn’t starve.” She handed him a mug of coffee.
“He doesn’t attack the cattle?”
“He hasn’t, neither have the others. But if meat gets too hard to come by… they are wild animals.” Shay slid plates onto the table before settling into her chair.
“You can’t just make them obey you?”
“No, and I wouldn’t if I could. They are meant to be wild. The pack has a tenuous truce with Frank, he gives them butcher bones that he can’t use, they leave his herd alone and keep the coyotes away.” She chewed thoughtfully. “The glow isn’t like mind control, it doesn’t work against someone’s will-” waving her fork “-I can’t make you like me, for example. And with the animals its more a… meeting of equals. Through the glow they can sense my intentions, there is no deception. And they choose how to respond. They still have freewill.”
“The white wolf, Ma-heeka?”
“Mahihkan. We bonded when he was a cub, He’s loyal to me, but yes he is free.”
-
She pulled out a phone, different from the one she had used yesterday and plugged it into a strange flat device.
“We should be getting news anytime now.”
Bucky took the opportunity to inspect the house more thoroughly. There were three photos on the mantle.
A family, smiling parents and three small children. One photo of the children laughing, the oldest maybe 6-7. Then a photo of two people, the father looking considerably older and a teen girl. Bucky could trace the features, the curly hair. Shay, but without the tiny pale scar over her eyebrow.
“They’re following a lead to Johannesburg. Nat will update us later.” Her voice broke through his thoughts and he returned to kitchen. “I really should give myself a chance to heal today, so make yourself at home.” Shay suggested as she turned to the sink of dishes.
She was filling a sink with warm water when Bucky grabbed a dish towel that hung from the oven. He felt her tense up as he stepped up to the counter beside her.
“My ma would kill me for letting an injured woman do all the work.”
“Better not risk it then, eh?” She was always quick with a comeback and it usually left Buck off-balance, but today it seemed like warm laughter, instead of a cool challenge.
When the dishes had been put away, Shay had settled onto the couch and Bucky had decided to take the walk she suggested. The clearing the house sat in was not extensive, there was a paddock and barn on one side of the drive and what must once have been garden framed with apple trees. The snow had melted from the grass, leaving a frame of hard packed ice against the tree line. The sun had come up before he woke at 7, and now the heat was beating on his back. As he made the circuit of the clearing, he noted several snow packed trails through the scrubby bush, wolf prints clear in the ice. They were larger than he’d expected. The barn wasn’t locked and he slid the door open. A cat sprinted across his path and out of sight. The smell of hay and old wood, a few stables empty. There was an empty bag hung up on the open side of the barn, alongside a bar that looked about the right height for pull-ups.
“The equipment is old-school, but it works.” Frank had stepped into the barn, the odd clunk of his metal leg nearly imperceptible in the dirt floor. “Just fill the bag up with that bin of oats over there.” A gnarled hand gave direction.
Bucky watched the old man, age in every limb and yet his posture upright, proud.
“She called you Sarge on the phone?”
“Sargent Frank Regal of the 4th Canadian Ranger patrol” His mismatched heels snapped together and the authority in his voice spoke of long experience.
“Are these yours then?” Bucky pointed at the homemade equipment.
“No. Shay and I built it together long ago, but it’s hers.”
“So, you trained her.”
“Yeah... Not that she needed much help.” The eyes became misty with time, “she was so angry then. would bruise her knuckles -her wrists even- on that old bag.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s not my story to tell… Shay trusts you. Why?”
“Honestly sir, I don’t know.”
“Well, James, she’s never been wrong about people yet. She must know something you don’t,” Franks voice trailed off as he gazed at the beams overhead. “Shay hasn’t brought anyone here before. If you betray that trust…” There was a calm threat in the old man’s voice, as though he was discussing weather. “I came to ask if you’d be willing to lend a hand, there’s an old cow I need to corral and she’s faster than my old legs.”
Shay met the men as they passed the porch.
“Hey fella’s, fine afternoon, isn’t it?” She slipped her arm into Franks, and Bucky watched the two as they walked up the path before him: She was still guarding her ribs but she walked upright, refusing to limp. Frank walked in a measured way that hid his unusual gait from casual observers. What might have looked like a slow shuffle instead seemed elegant as a dance.
Frank pointed out the stubborn old cow in a pen with nine others.
“Betsy is nearly lame, but she still won’t let me trim her feet. Jumped a fence last time Fred tried to corner her.”
“Let me try first eh, Frank?” Shay waited for his nod of approval before entering the gate.
Walking towards the end of the corral where the stool and trimmers were, she moved with absolute confidence. Bucky was amazed to see the animals following her, like the pied piper. The animal in question: Betsy, in the lead.
Frank responded to a silent cue and Bucky followed him around the side of the pen towards the metal contraption at the end.
“Just keep your movements real’ easy... She’ll stand for you now Frank.” Her voice was a soothing balm, calming animals and men both.
Frank seated himself on the stool and Shay led the cow forward.
“I’ll need a little help here James, if you don’t mind.”
Buck watched Shay demonstrate how to lift the foot. He stepped into position and mimicked her actions, watching Frank use a combination of clippers and files to trim the hooves. Shay stood at the large animal’s head and kept her calm, as Frank and Bucky moved around the animal. When her hooves were back in proper shape she stomped a few times, huffing, before ambling off.
The remaining cows were docile and in good condition. Shay ran her hands over the nose of each as they moved through the line, checking for any underlying issues. Bucky watched the two of them. Moving in tandem, discussing livestock and ailments he’d never heard of. They had worked together, fought together, their steps in time with a hidden melody they both knew.
Bucky thought of Steve, how they’d fought side-by-side in the Howling commandos. They’d known each so well, words were hardly necessary to execute a plan. Now though? Steve was an Avenger, he fought with a new team, had new friends.
Where did Bucky fit in? He was out of step with Steve, and everyone else he’d really known was dead.