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Micah was having a bad day.
He had been on edge the entire day. Both you and Baylock were gone from camp, and that alone made him antsy and quick to snap at the others. Your horse hadn’t made it out of Blackwater, and you hadn’t had the chance to put together the money for a new one yet. It had taken a great deal of trust for Micah to let you borrow Baylock to ride into Valentine for a bit.
Micah wouldn’t let just anybody borrow his horse. Baylock was something very dear to him. He loved the horse as much as a man could love his horse. Baylock was reliable; he did everything Micah asked of him. Micah never cared much for animals, but Baylock was his, and Micah took care of what was his.
You were also his.
Micah couldn’t tell when that exactly happened, but he knew it was true. You weren’t like the other women, to voice a cliche. He meant it. You put him in his place, you challenged him, you corrected his tone, and you didn’t let him push you around. Your attitude was not rejection, though. It was correction. And it made Micah more hot than he’d like to admit to have a woman put him in his place like that, and now he was admittedly wrapped around your finger.
But you were gone right now, and so was Baylock, so Micah was having a shitty time.
He had been sitting by the campfire, sharpening a chunk of wood to a point with an old knife to pass the time and let his frustrations out on something. He doesn’t remember what exactly happened. It was getting dark and a few other gang members settled by the fire with him, and someone made a stupid comment — John, he thinks — about how anxious he looked, and then Micah was set off, and then the whole group was arguing back and forth. It was hell.
“Hey, look, your girlfriend’s back,” John sneered suddenly, breaking the fight.
Micah, embarrassingly, whipped around to look behind him the minute John said that, and made a beeline for you the moment he caught you hitched Baylock up with the rest of the horses at the edge of camp. The argument was already forgotten by the time he made his way over, and the other gang members by the campfire had settled down or parted ways.
“You’re back,” Micah commented as he approached you, leaning against the fencepost and crossing his arms to play it cool, like he hadn’t just rushed over at the sight of you.
You looked up from where you just tied Baylock off and smiled at him, tilting your head.
“Of course I am. I said I’d be back by dinner,” you replied, dusting off your hands.
“It’s almost dark,” he grumbled, pushing off the fence and stepping closer. You felt his gaze scan over your body and then flicker to Baylock, looking him over as well for anything out of sorts.
“We’re both fine,” you interrupted his assessment, setting a hand on his arm.
Micah immediately turned back to you at the touch.
“Baylock did wonderful,” you went on softly. “And I handled myself just fine in town, you know I can.”
“I know, I know…” Micah grumbled, ducking his head down.
You raised your other hand, cupping the side of his face when Micah leaned closer, and gently guided his head down to peck his lips. His mustache tickled your nose and you smiled against him, kissing him one more time before you pulled back.
“I got a lead while I was in town.” You traced your finger along the edge of his mustache. “You up for a job in a couple days?”
“Mhm,” Micah hummed in agreement, closing his eyes as he tilted his head into your touch.
“I figure we can handle it, just the two of us. It’s been a while since we’ve had a job to ourselves.”
“It has…”
Micah stepped even closer, snaking his arms around your waist. He had never been one to hold back physical affection, even in public. You asked him about it once, and he said he didn’t care, and that he liked the idea of the other gang members looking over and knowing you were his.
“You, me, Baylock, a quiet camp, and a job all to ourselves, how’s that sound?” you asked, lifting your arms to wrap them around his neck.
“Sounds mighty fine,” he muttered, ducking down to stick his nose in your hair along the side of your head.
“Mm, someone missed me,” you sighed softly, sliding your hands from his neck to his shoulders, then down his back, scratching him gently like you would pet a dog or horse.
Micah grunted in reply, which was neither a confirmation or a denial. You smiled, tilting your head up to brush your nose against his, knowing he secretly craved gentle affection like this.
“Mm, let me get some dinner, and then I’ll join you in our tent, how’s that sound?” you offered, tilting your head gently.
You felt Micah smile against your forehead as he pressed a quick kiss there, squeezing you in his arms before he pulled away.
“Deal.”
You watched as Micah headed back towards camp, leaving you to finish settling Baylock in for the night. Micah’s shoulders seemed much more relaxed as he walked away than when he approached you.
You suppose, in a way, you had softened each other. Like two blades constantly hitting each other until they were both dulled from wear. It was hard to find gentleness in this life, but having someone you could return to at the end of the day made all the hard moments worth it.