Cowboy!Ghost tries to figure out how to act around the only woman he’s ever fallen in love with when she’s off limits to him. This is very early days in their relationship. I’m talking right after they get caught by Price.
Ghost is working very hard to scare you off, and it’s kind of working. When your Dad finally properly introduces you two he looks at you with eyes like ice. All the warmth of him gone and replaced with a dead man. He doesn’t say one word to you, simply stares you down until you drop your offered hand and go back to your chores.
He doesn’t say anything to you the rest of the day, he’s singularly focused on his work each time you see him. It’s like you don’t even exist to him. Maybe that’s for the best, but it makes your heart clench. He looks… lonely. The only thing he shows any kindness to is the animals. Stroking his horse’s neck as he waits for the cattle to file past him, gently nudging chickens out of the way with his foot, he even gives the pigs an affectionate pat on the back when he walks past their paddock. He has none of the same affections for you, even though 12 hours ago you would’ve said he was one of the most attentive men you’d ever met. Ghost brushes past you to put his tack away and you almost feel the chill of it.
“Your billet strap is too loose,” You tell him, because it’s been bothering you all day. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at you. “That’s why you’re slidin’ around in the saddle, Dolly’s a sweet horse but she’ll buck if you keep agitatin’ her.” He pauses, and nods once, quick, barely there. You nod back, satisfied that your horse is taken care of.
It’s the same thing the next day. The cold shoulder, the glare from under the shadow of his hat, the silence. You’d almost forget the way he’d held your face in the dark to kiss you. You press your hands against the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched and angry. Not with him. You get it, he’s a military man of course he’d obey his captain’s orders. This is exactly why you told yourself you’d never get involved with a military man. There was always going to be someone, something, more important than you to them. You love your Daddy, you really do, but…
But he hardly knows when to stop working. That’s why you’re making him something for lunch, because it’s what Momma would do if she was here. You swear at yourself and grab an extra couple slices of bread.
Your whistle reaches him all the way across the pasture. Dolly’s head jerks in your direction, her ears twitching as the dog goes zipping past her feet. Ghost checks his watch, it’s not quitting time yet. He looks around for Price and sees him doing the same thing before directing his horse back towards the pasture fence. He waits, half watching as Price chats with you, his eyes following the meandering cows as they enjoy the sun. It’s so quiet. It sets his nerves on edge.
“Ghost!” Price’s voice bellows over the grass. Ghost pulls his full attention to him, watches him wave an arm to signal him over. He clicks his tongue, knocks his heels against Dolly’s sides to get her moving.
You’re standing on the lowest rung of the fence, precariously balanced, one hand on the nearest post with a smile. You hold a paper wrapped bundle out to him, the added height of the fence letting you hold it directly to his hands. “Lunch,” You tell him plainly, “Momma’d be mad if I let y’all work through it.”
He takes the offering from your hand and watches you hop off the fence. You click your tongue and Dolly moves, letting her reach through the fence to tighten one of the straps on the saddle. Ghost’s heart clenches in his chest. Why would a drop of sunshine like you even spare him a thought? Why do you care? You meet his eyes with a smile and he looks away quickly, past Price towards the field.
“Thanks,” He tells you low and rough, like he doesn’t want to.
“Any time.”
You do your best to try and distance the dark and silent man that works on the farm from the man that you spent the night with. Ghost seems to have had no trouble with it, and you’ll be damned if a man is better than you at anything. You treat him like any other farm hand your dad’s hired, you’re friendly and chatty even when you’re met with a brick wall. You hate it.
Your thoughts are full of his hands, his voice, his eyes, a mouth you only felt. You are maddeningly haunted by this man, and he just… doesn’t care. Treats you like a fly on shit. The only kind word you get is the pained thanks when you hand him lunch. As if being nice to you is such a fucking challenge. And his fucking billet strap! He still can’t get it tight enough, it’s driving you crazy that you have to keep fixing it. It’s one fucking thing!
“You’re too friendly,” Ghost tells you. You glance over your shoulder at him.
“Am I supposed to be mean?” You don’t really want to do that, it’s not exactly your wheelhouse, “Daddy isn’t going to fire you just because I’m friendly.”
“You think that’s the issue?” He asks, eyes heavy on you. You make a face.
“What other issue would there be?”
“You’re-” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. If you would just-”
You roll your eyes, “You’re such a drama queen, Si-”
Ghost’s hands grip your shoulders as he slams you against the side of the barn. “You don’t call me that,” He snarls, eyes so hot with anger it scares you, “Be a good little girl and leave me the hell alone.”
Your chest clenches tight, and you feel your hands starting to shake with anxiety. He hasn’t said more than two words to you in a week and this is what he’s been thinking? You take a breath and fix your face, giving his own anger back to him. That seems to loosen some of the tension in his shoulders at least. His eyes linger on your lips, you can hear him breathing, see the conflict in his eyes. There’s a long quiet moment, while you’re standing held against the wall where you think he might kiss you.
“Ghost,” You try, watching his breath catch, his eyes dart to yours and he lets you go, pulling away like you’ve burned him.
“Listen to your father when he tells you a man is dangerous.” He tells you, eyes cold once more. You nod, sliding against the wall of the barn. Your legs feel like they’re made of jelly. He doesn’t look back at you when he leaves.
646 notes
·
View notes