Chapter Twenty-Nine
Saturday passed uneventfully, Runa occasionally giving Steve pensive or quizzical looks, but he avoided talking to her, planning on having their talk on Sunday. He’d ask Bucky to go out to play cards or something after supper, he decided. With as much as Bucky pushed Runa and Steve together, he would probably be happy to leave them by themselves in the house for a while. Giving himself a deadline for the talk made Steve feel a bit better about things, but only a small bit. He was still filled with worry about how he would say his piece, how Runa would react to what he had to say.
He had a feeling she would not react well to the news that he loved someone else, had been well aware that he loved someone else, but had still gone ahead and married her anyway.
His mind was on that more than anything else during the sermon on Sunday, that and how Runa’s hand remained on his arm through the entire service, as if he would vanish if she let go.
Considering his behavior after every other sermon since her arrival, she probably was.
That was not a pleasant realization, and it made the knots in his stomach twist tighter.
As Reverend Fury ended the sermon and everyone began to stand, Runa tightened her grip on Steve’s arm. “Please stay with me today.” She murmured, so quietly he had to strain to hear. “I don’t… He’s here. And I don’t want him to corner me again.”
Steve understood, and gave a slight nod. “I thought he was an old friend, but from how you looked when you were dancing with him-”
“-He was the son of my former employer. The son of a friend of my father and uncle. He isn’t a friend of mine, unless I have to be polite.” She whispered.
“I see.” Steve said quietly, but he didn’t, not really. Was that all she had been at the celebrations? Polite? It had looked like more than politeness to him, but what did he know of his wife’s moods? He real moods, not what she showed to the world. But that was part of the problem; Runa always tried to seem so cheerful. “I’ll carry the basket while you get the quilts, and then I’ll help you lay them out.” He suggested. “Maybe we could sit together while we wait for the others?”
She smiled up at him, relief in her eyes. “I’d like that.” She confessed to him.
Steve smiled at her, standing with her and escorting her from the church, unaware that Bucky was watching them with well concealed relief and a bit of sorrow. He was glad that Steve was taking his advice, glad that the two were spending time together… But he wanted to be a part of it. He hadn’t been the only one who felt like it was just like old times when he and Steve had spent their time together on the fourth. But at the same time, he had enjoyed the feel of Runa in his arms as they danced together, the smiles she had given him that night.
Bucky tried to shake the feeling off as he left the church. Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially not in a house of God.
Then he saw Brock standing outside the church, watching Steve and Runa with a calculating look.
Bucky went up to him, fixing a friendly grin on his face.
“Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He said as he approached him. “I’m sorry about the other night, I was a bit upset, shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Bucky held out a hand to Brock. “James Barnes, but most people here call me Bucky. I’m Steve Rogers’ business partner, half owner of Bluestone Ranch.”
Brock looked at him as if he were an insect under his boot, but he took Bucky’s hand, giving a fixed smile of his own. “Brock Rumlow.”
“Runa mentioned you a time or two. What brings you out to Amaranto Springs? Come to visit with Steve and Runa?”
“Regrettably, no. I’m in town for business. My father put me in charge of a new venture. I was also looking to retrieve a bit of property that rightfully belongs to me.”
“Property?” Bucky asked, raising a brow. Had Runa taken something with her when she left to come to Texas? She didn’t seem the type, but then again, how well did they actually know her?
“A fine, pretty little filly that my mother gave away. She was unaware of her true value, let alone what she meant to me. Then again, you know women. One filly is the same as another in their opinion.”
Bucky almost snorted at that, but he managed to give Brock a knowing grin and a slight nod. Runa was proof that not every woman was like that; she tried to take the time to learn each one of their horses, tell them apart, know their names and who they belonged to. She had learned that Bucky’s dun stallion, Fuego, preferred carrots over apples, and tried to have some for him when she was doling out treats to her favorites.
“Women are peculiar that way.” Bucky drawled. “Any luck getting your filly back?”
“None so far, but I think I’ll be able to seal the deal shortly. I can be quite persuasive, and money is a powerful incentive.”
“That it can be.” Bucky agreed, looking out over the crowd, seeing Steve and Runa set up on the quilts, and the ranch hands descending upon them like locusts. “I should go, or there won’t be anything left for me to eat. Good to meet you, Brock. And welcome to Amaranto Springs.”
As Bucky left the man, he felt a crawling sensation on his scalp, knowing he was being watched closely. He figured that Brock was eyeing him the same way he had been eyeing Steve and Runa earlier. The only question was: why?