Chapter Twenty
The inside of the bunkhouse was cramped, but they still managed to wedge a dilapidated table between some of the bunks, and were using the bunks themselves as chairs. The bunkhouse honestly wasn’t big enough to house nine people, let alone the ten it had beds for, but since it was mostly used just for sleeping in and storing the hands’ meager belongings, the men didn’t complain too much. Still, Bucky decided that he and Steve needed to talk about replacing the bunkhouse next year after selling off some of the cattle. He was glad that Amaranto Springs served as a railhead for the area; the long drives were exhausting, and he much preferred sticking close to home. Cattle drives had been the one part of ranch life he hadn’t liked.
Bucky was laughing at one of Dum Dum’s jokes when he heard the house door slam; the door and windows of the bunkhouse were all open to get a bit of a breeze so the sound carried to them easily. His laugh turned into a groan at the sound, and even the rest of the men seemed to feel the change in atmosphere.
“He keeps this up much longer, she’s going to leave him.” Sam muttered.
“She’d have her pick of men in this town. Or anywhere else.” Pinky agreed.
“He’s doing his best.” Bucky protested, inwardly railing against Steve. “He’s always been awkward with women.”
“You tried talking to him about it?” Gabe asked, and Bucky sighed, nodding.
“We had a chat earlier. It’s why I’m out here with you fine gentlemen instead of sitting in my comfortable chair and working on my carving tonight. I was trying to give the lovebirds some time together.”
“I don’t know how you can call them lovebirds with a straight face.” Falsworth shook his head as he shuffled the deck of cards they were using. Dum Dum let out a grunt of agreement, and Falsworth continued on, “When someone says lovebirds, I picture hand holding, arms around shoulders, shy smiles and tenderness. Not… Whatever it is Steve thinks he’s doing.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this. He’s probably on his way here.” Bucky frowned.
“If he was on his way here, he’d be here by now.” Dum Dum pointed out.
“He’s been trying.” Happy Sam said. “I’ve walked in on them in the kitchen.”
“Not the best place for a seduction.” Dernier chuckled.
“And not only because they could have someone walk in on them.” Dum Dum agreed. “If he succeeds, he could make her forget all about whatever she’s cooking and we’d wind up with a burnt supper. If he fails, well… Same thing could happen.”
“He-” Bucky fell silent as he heard hooves outside. Steve was riding away from the ranch at a gallop. At least, that was what it sounded like. “Shit.” He stood up, heading from the bunkhouse.
“He’ll come back on his own. He’s a grown man.” Sam pointed out, but Bucky shook his head.
“He might do something stupid. Like founder his horse.” Or leave Runa alone in the damn house after Bucky practically shoved her at him. “But I’m not going to follow him.” Yet. “I’m going to go see if Runa is all right. Depending on how badly he fucked up, she might need someone to talk to. Better me than anyone else. I’m his business partner and best friend. I can slap him upside the head if he needs it. None of you can.”
There were a few nods and murmurs of that being a good idea as Bucky left the cramped bunkhouse and went into the main house.
He could hear Runa sobbing as soon as he stepped inside.
He was going to strangle Steve.
Bucky went to the door of the room Runa shared with Steve, and he knocked lightly. “Runa? Are you all right?”
He heard a hiccupping sob, listened as she tried to control herself. “I’m fine. Just… Just a blow to my pride. That’s all.” Her tone was so wounded and mournful that Bucky felt his own heart break. Shit. She didn’t deserve this. No one deserved to feel heartbreak like that.
“I’m going to go and find Steve. Sounded like he rode off somewhere. Will you be all right in the house by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Thank you. Always so damn polite. Bucky took a deep breath and counted to ten, listening to the sobs she was now trying to stifle before he strode out to the stable so he could saddle his horse.
~*~
Steve looked up at the building he had tethered his horse outside of. The buttery yellow lamplight pouring from the doors and windows beckoned him, as did the sound of conversation from inside; someone plinking out a tune on the piano inexpertly, the occasional hearty laugh. He hadn’t been to the Desert Rose in a while, so he figured he was long overdue.
He stepped inside through the swinging doors and moved towards the bar, taking note of his surroundings as he did. The saloon was nearly empty, one of the girls at the piano, while two others lingered at the tables. The bar was empty, so that was where Steve headed; after taking a moment to nod at Tony Stark, Doc Banner, and Sheriff Rhodes, who were seated around a table playing cards with one another.
Natasha was at the bar, but everyone called her Nat. Unlike her girls, she didn’t fancy herself up in revealing dresses; she wore trousers and a fitted white blouse, a black and red brocade waistcoat over it, her crimson hair styled intricately. She called her hair her one vanity, though she easily could have had a dozen others. She was one of the few women who could have possibly pulled off the things she did; owning a saloon and employing soiled doves but also being a pillar of the community. She didn’t attend church often, but she was always welcome by everyone when she did,(all right, almost everyone, as accepting and open as Amaranto Springs was, there were a few catty old women who took any chance to gossip and speak poorly of people), and Nat was also close friends with a surprising number of people, Clint and Laura Barton among them, just as Steve and Bucky were.
As soon as Steve reached the bar, Nat placed a small glass in front of him.
“Rogers. The good stuff, or the swill?” She asked, raising a finely arched brow at him. She didn’t ask him to pay up front as she did so many of her other customers; Steve wasn’t a regular, but she knew him and Bucky well, and she knew Steve was good for what he asked. He was one of the few people in town she allowed to have a tab.
“I don’t deserve the good stuff tonight.” Steve muttered, and she nodded, picking up a bottle from behind the bar and pouring the amber liquid into the small gill glass before him. Steve took the glass and drank down the liquid, grimacing before putting the glass back down. “I’ll take the bottle. Think I’ll need it tonight.”
“Woman trouble?” Nat asked as she set the bottle on the bar in front of Steve. He took it and poured himself another drink, drinking it down quickly with another grimace. It wasn’t the watered-down whiskey she sold to most people passing through town, but the stronger, coarser stuff she made available to her regulars. Not the finer, smooth stuff she also sold at a higher price to a select few.
“Something like that.” He agreed, pouring another drink. If he had looked at Nat then, he would have seen her brow crinkle slightly with worry.
“You might want to slow it down a bit.”
“No, I might not.” Steve said before drinking that one down and pouring himself another, already feeling the warmth spreading from his belly through his veins. He got drunk very rarely; usually he was the picture of moderation. Not tonight. Tonight was for trying to forget the image of Runa—his wife—that was burned into his mind, undressed and looking at him so trustingly. So longingly. Images of Bucky as he slept naked and sprawled out next to him. The realization of how he had ruined all their lives; first by having relations with Bucky and going and falling in love with him, then by bringing Runa out to be his wife when he couldn’t be a proper husband. Didn’t matter if he thought he could be at the time. He couldn’t, and that was the long and short of it.
“I take it you and the new wife are having trouble?”
“Nat, I would really like to drink in peace with less talking tonight.”
“If you wanted that, you should have gone to a different saloon.”
“The Desert Rose is the only saloon in town.” He countered as he drank down another glass.
“Steven Rogers, you need to slow it down or I am taking that bottle away from you.” She warned, placing her hand over the top of his glass before he could pour himself a fifth drink. “Now slow down and talk to me.”
“Fine. There is trouble with my wife. It’s… Complicated.”
“Try me.”
“I’m not drunk enough to go spilling all my secrets and worries.”
“So that’s your aim? To get drunk?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”
“Sorry, I meant, ‘yes Nat.’”
She removed her hand, and he poured himself a fifth drink, but this time, he drank more slowly, nursing the drink.
He was on his seventh when Bucky strode in, looking as if he could chew iron and spit nails.
“Trouble in paradise?” Tony asked with a bit of a smirk, earning a scowl in response. Tony chuckled, and turned back to the card game as Bucky marched to the bar and took a spot beside Steve.
“I want your account of things before I beat you.” He said flatly as Steve finished the last of his drink. Bucky frowned, and looked to Nat. “How many has he had?”
“That was seven.”
“Hell.” Bucky groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “All right. What happened?”
Steve poured himself another drink, and drank it down before answering. “It was all wrong.” He said quietly. “I tried, Buck, I really did, but it… It just isn’t right.”
“Why isn’t it right, Stevie?” Bucky asked, some of his anger fading. Steve was clearly torn up about whatever had happened between him and Runa, but Bucky couldn’t shake the sound of Runa’s sobs from his ears. As distraught as Steve was, Bucky was not about to let him off easily.
“She deserves someone better. Someone else.” Steve muttered. “I’ll taint her if I touch her. Buck, she… She is so… So small. And perfect. And delicate. I’d break her without meaning to, snap her in half. I don’t want to hurt her, Bucky, and I would. I wouldn’t mean to, but I would.”
“You’ve already hurt her, Steve. Not physically, but she is hurting right now.” Bucky sighed.
“I just… Don’t know what to do.” Steve sighed as he eyed the amount left in the bottle. Bucky shook his head, pulling the bottle away from him.
“I think you’ve had enough.”
“You know,” Nat drawled, exchanging a look with Bucky, “If it’s lack of experience with a woman that’s giving you cold feet, we can fix that fairly easily.”
“Don’t you dare!” The three at the bar looked over to the card game, surprised. The outburst had come from Doc Banner, and he looked almost livid. “If you don’t know what to do, you go to her and figure it out together like half the other men in creation. She is your wife. You said vows in the house of God that you would forsake all others-”
Tony started laughing, and Bruce gave him a scowl that somehow managed to be resigned and annoyed all at once, while Sheriff Rhodes just looked resigned.
“No one ever means that part.” Tony pointed out when his laughter had died down.
“No, the Doc is right.” Steve said, his words slurring a bit. “I said the vows. Made a promise. Made lots of promises.” He reached for the bottle again, but Bucky pulled it away.
“And all of you know I didn’t mean like that.” Nat frowned over at Bruce. “Steve’s a married man. My girls know he’s off limits.” She looked back to Steve, “I meant we could explain a few things, give a few pointers.
Steve shook his head, his movements loose and exaggerated, the liquor working on him. “I made a promise.” He repeated. “Too many promises. Don’t know if I can keep ‘em all.”
“You’re going to have to try.” Bucky told Steve firmly, before sighing and looking to Nat. “I know you’re not in the habit of renting rooms, but I don’t think he can get on a horse like this.”
“I don’t know that he can get up the stairs like this.” Nat remarked drily. “We can put him in Evy’s room. She can double up with Rachael tonight. Help me get him up the stairs.”