I kissed him all o’er his handsome face, staying close and warm and not wanting to get up and do any chores. I’d stay like this as long as I could.
Chapter Five
Secrets
As the dark days of winter approached, the weather became colder and the nights longer. Since there wasn’t much to do to keep up the homestead except chop firewood, clean dishes and clothes, cook and look after the horses, Oscar and I spent time exploring our new home. Oscar and Onyx needed to get to know one another, and t’was enjoyable to ride out for an hour or so for the heck of it. T’was pleasant to be out in nature, and the scenery here at the base of the forests and mountains of the Lower Skeena was majestic and awe-inspiring—when we could see it, that was. Most of the land around our homestead was dense pine forest, and we had to be careful to notice landmarks and use the compass to make sure we knew where we were at all times. After several meanders, though, we got used to the surrounding landscape, and we knew where the easiest routes were.
When I’d teased Oscar about Onyx being competition for my affections, I’d been half joking, although it soon became apparent that I wasn’t all that wide off the mark. Oscar spent a good deal of his time in the stables, talking to his horse, telling her all his secrets, even when he wasn’t riding—so much so that I did begin to feel a might neglected.
T’was silly to feel that way, of course. Oscar spent lots of time with me, and there were many things he got from me that he couldn’t get from his horse. I knew t’was so, in theory. As a result, I pushed those feelings down and went about my business, trying to find ways to occupy myself when he wasn’t around or finding an excuse to be in the stables when he went there. But I reckoned that most of the time he went to talk to Onyx, part of t’was a need to get away and be on his own, which did hurt me, even though I tried not to take it personal.
Oscar and I were different in a lot of ways. I’d spent most of my life in the company of others, even when those people had been men with questionable morals. Truth was, I liked being around other folks, and there had been times I’d found my job hauling cargo for Mr. Henley a might on the lonely side. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to help Oscar—because I’d been desperate for some kind of companion. What I hadn’t guessed waswhatkind of companion Oscar would want to be with me. As luck would have it, that had turned out to suit me just fine in the end.
But Oscar had spent much of his life on his own, even in a crowded, cramped city, and he liked to be free of other folks sometimes so’s he could think his own thoughts without getting distracted. And I understood it, I did. But it still sometimes smarted when he took off to the barn to be with his horse. Only I felt silly feeling jealous of an animal. So I buried those emotions until they got so thick and unruly inside me that I guess they just busted out.
“Where you goin’?” I said, as Oscar pulled on his coat and reached for the door handle.
“I need to go check on Onyx. She seemed a bit sad this mornin’.”
I stared at him. “Sad? How can she be sad? You pamper her so much, I reckon she’s gonna start thinkin’ she’s a goddamn fairy princess.”
Oscar pursed his lips. “Anyhow, I need to check in on her.”
“Fine.” My tone held more annoyance than I’d planned.
Oscar’s hand stayed where t’was, motionless on the handle of the door, as he gave me a strange look.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? You mad ’cause I wanna look after my horse?”
I put down the plate I’d been drying. “She ain’t goin’ nowhere. She’s fed and watered and out in the paddock, and she’s got Poke and Dixie to keep her company.”
Oscar examined me for a long moment, not saying anything. I felt embarrassed about my rude words, but I hadn’t been able to help myself. Seemed he spent more time in the barn with his horse than he did with me, and it hurt.
“Jimmy.”
“What?”
He licked his lips and frowned. “Are you jealous?”
I laughed but it came out sounding wrong. “Jealous of a goddamn horse?”
He shrugged. “You’re actin’ like you’re mad at me ’cause I ain’t at your beck and call all the time no more.”
“I thought…” I put the dish on the shelf and picked up another. “I thought you liked bein’ at my beck and call.”
Oscar rubbed a hand o’er his temple. “I do, Jimmy. Goddammit, I do. But Onyx is—” He scuffed the toe of his boot on the planked floor. “She’s mine, and she’s pretty and warm and soft and she listens. Jimmy, she listens t’all my problems, and I—”
My head jerked up. “You got problems? What kind of problems?”
“Oh, I don’t know. But I can talk to her about anythin’.”
I put the wet plate down on the counter and laid the towel on top. Then I ran my fingers through my hair and gazed at Oscar. “What? You can’t talk to me?” My voice came out all quiet, like I was scared to hear the answer to that question.
Oscar took off his coat and hung it back on the hook. “’Course I can. It’s just…different…when I’m talking to Onyx, out in the barn.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, turning back to the sink and the dishes I’d been wiping clean. But I only curled my fingers around the edge of the wood counter and stared out of the window at the trees.
“She don’t care what I’m sayin’. I don’t gotta think about what she might suppose from what I’m tellin’ her.”
