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“...Lady Constance Magdaline placed her long white boot on the stirrup. Mulligan held her waist with one hand and his black, gleaming mare with the other. She’d never seen a mare so large and fearsome. She felt completely out of her depth. The mare, the man, his hand on her waist. As she lowered herself to the dirt path, his hand slipped down past her hip and towards her thigh. She had all the mind to turn around and slap him. But she feared with a face like Mulligan’s, dark and rugged in the moonlight, she might do something else entirely.”
Penny brushed the side of her book. Riders of Dusk- she never thought a series would capture her heart the way The Chronicles of Ysadrion did. Autumn was cool, but if she pulled her cardigan up and dove into the story of Lady Constance Magdaline falling for the rough and tumble cowboy slash criminal Mulligan against the strict direction of her overbearing sheriff father, she could forget about the weather entirely.
And the children too. Vincent tugs at her skirt.
“No pulling.” Penny said softly, prying off his chubby fingers, “Use your words please.”
“I’m bored." the boy said, then tipped back to fall onto a pile of leaves.
“Alright, thank you. You're bored? How about we go work on your costumes for Spirit’s Eve?”
She took the children by the hand and led them to Emily’s house. She thought it would be useful for the children to work on an arts and crafts project. They had made good progress. Jas worked with Emily to cut out a long, beautiful purple robe so that she could be a witch. Vincent wanted to be a firefighter. Penny helped him idly with the glue and scissors. Her mind had still been in the deep west, in the dust and saloons.
"Psst. Hey Penny." Emily leaned over her shoulder with a smile "..Do you want to check out the progress I've made on The costume?" She asked. Penny shot out of her seat and nodded.
Emily led her to her room in the back of the house. "Thanks again for their measurements by the way." She said, "No clue how you got those, seems like they're always on the move." Emily said. Penny laughed but didn't answer. It didn't feel right to tell her that it wasn’t even a little difficult. That, months ago, the farmer had fallen asleep in her lap thirty minutes into that old Prairie King flick, softly snoring as Penny brushed the hair against their forehead. She just had to stretch to grab the measuring tape and that was it.
Not that the costume was officially a secret or anything. They knew Penny would be making something for them, ever since last Spirit's Eve when they rolled into town with the same overalls.
"And what are you supposed to be?" She remembers asking them. That year she went as a fairy- although really it was Mistfoot from the third Ysadrion book- not that anyone noticed.
"A farmer?" They responded sheepishly. From that point forward, Penny assumed costuming responsibilities for them. She’d been planning it ever since, and when she finished the first book in the Riders of The Day series, she was inspired. To outside eyes, they'd be Bonnie and Clyde. But any bookworm would notice in a second the iconic blue ascot around their farmer's neck, the blouse pulled up to their shoulders, and open vest. They'd know them to be Mulligan. Penny examined every beautiful detail Emily included in the outfit.
“It’s perfect.” she said.
---
"It's a little tight." They said. Penny fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Well, it's not overalls." She crossed her arms and stared at the knob of her bedroom door.
"You've got that right." They murmured.
"It still fits though, right?" She asked.
Slowly, her bedroom door opened and her farmer came out. It looked so much better on a person- on their person- then on a hanger in Emily's room. The blouse bulged against their muscles- she'd never noticed until now just how muscular they were. All of that work in the fields and mines and by the dock paid off in the round chisel of their arm. The blue ascot trailed like a hand down to a very low-cut blouse. She could see their clavicle sticking sharply out. The best part, though? Their hands hung loosely from their front pants pockets like Mulligan's would. Under the brim of their hat, they smiled.
“How do I look?”
“You look- super,” Penny said, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks. “Why don’t you go out and enjoy the festivities while I get changed? I’ll meet you.” The farmer nodded, and as they sauntered past Penny could smell a subtle perfume masking the usual fresh scent of soil. It was musky and rich and smelled slightly of pumpkin.
“See you there.” They said.
Penny’s outfit was a bit more elaborate. Lady Constance wore a pink dress, short enough to crop up and ride a horse. And underneath, her iconic white boots and gloves which were always pearly and clean. She zipped the dress up over her undergarments, straightened out the tassels, and finally let her hair fall down to her shoulders. She spent a few minutes in the mirror, looking at herself. All she wanted was to stand next to them and feel like she fit, like they were a dashing duo ripped out of the books. She readjusted her hair and tried to smile.
---
It didn’t feel right to walk up to the farmer dressed the way she was. That was mostly because Lady Constance Magdaline would never walk up to someone unless she had business- she was the kind of lady who had to be approached. Penny lingered near the punch and tried very hard to avoid bumping into her Mother.
“Penny!” Emily’s bounded up to her. She was wearing a very large blue suit with two bouncing antennae. “Your costume looks so amazing!”
“You did a great job with it, thank you.”
“Wooow.” Sam the Rockstar said. Behind him, Haley and Alex were a football player and a cheerleader. Next to them, their farmer. "You look great, Penny." They said.
“Thank you all.” Penny said, and lowered her head. When she raised it, she caught the eye of her farmer. They were looking at her in a way they never did in private. They always went out of their way to be respectful. She never felt hounded by them, they were sort of gentle. Once, she’d caught them glancing at her breasts. That was the worst offense.
Until now. The farmer’s eyes slid up her body: her boots, her waist, and dress, her hair let down long. At that moment she could read them like a book. She could hear every dirty thought, jot down every fantasy.
"So!" Emily said, clapping her hands together "Are you all going into the maze?"
"Ugh, I can't. It's like, really scary." Haley said.
"I was gonna grab some pumpkin pie first." Sam said. "It's not because I'm scared or anything." The group laughed.
"I'll go." Penny said. "I can tell you all how scary it is." The group parted, Emily, Haley, and Alex bounding off to the buffet table. Her farmer remained. They looked at the ground- had they been staring again? She glanced at them, a little smile under her hat. "Would you mind leading a lady through this Maze, Sheriff?" She asked.
"Certainly, Ma'am." They said, leaning into a southern drawl. Penny couldn't help but giggle.
---
Constance and Mulligan wouldn't have walked arm and arm until the epilogue of the second book, but she couldn't bring herself to unhook from them. The maze was dark, and they were the first to arrive. They passed by dismembered heads and cackling jack-o'-lanterns. She liked the feeling of being led somewhere, of being safe hooked in their arm. She could spend time examining the fake blood scattered across the grass and the tall hedges of the maze. She could see the big white moon hanging in the sky, and the little light it brought down. When she finally looked back to where they were going, they were in a completely different area, an alcove. A dead end.
Her farmer cleared their throat a little, looking up as if to remember. “ ‘Well, Madam. Appears as if we're utterly lost.’ " They said. Penny gasped.
"You've read it!?"
"Just the first one." They said. “I picked it up from Gunther once you returned it.” Penny broke into a grin. She squealed and jumped up into their arms. They caught her, a little off guard before laughing themselves. Their hands steadied her hips, they swung her before setting her down on a hay bale nearby. Penny took hold of their wrists and pulled them close.
“How did you like it? What did you think? You have to tell me everything!”
“It was good.” The farmer chuckled, their soft voice gave only the smallest of opinions. “I’m no book critic. Not really smart like you.” They said. But Penny ignored them, and grilled them for their reactions and thoughts on every twist in the book’s pages.
“What was your favorite scene?” Penny asked about five minutes after a total deconstruction of the significance of the opening pages. The farmer scratched their cheek, and looked away a little sheepishly.
“Besides uh, the big gunfight?”
“Besides that one, there’s no beating it.” Penny nodded. The Farmer looked up at them with a smile, but didn’t say anything. “Come on..!” Penny said.
“Okay uh.. You know that one scene when they’re traveling together..? And it gets real late, coyotes are prowling and it’s dark. And uh, Magdalene says.”
“ ‘It is far too cold not to indulge in your company.’ ” Penny repeats. She watches their farmer fluster in the moonlight.
“Yeah. That's the one.” Penny slipped her glove back on and crossed her legs. “And then, Mulligan asks..”
“Can I kiss you?” The farmer says- and repeats. In the book, there’s no more dialogue. The scene simply fades to narration- then to black. As Mulligan gets what he desires, and pulls the Lady Magdalene in close to his arms, in the cold of night. Something similar happens here, when Penny draws their farmer close from the top of the hay bale. Their lips break the cold into warmth. The music from Spirit’s eve lingers far in the background, blanketing the sounds of giggles and moans. When they escape into the night, their costumes hanging half-off their shoulders, nobody notices a thing.