“Is that how you always greet your employer?” he reiterated. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been humble the last time that they had interacted, but that was back when emotions and adrenaline had been running high. Maybe after some time simmering in what she had done, she would be more gracious.
“No, but it is usually how I react when someone scares me half to death. What are you, some sort of ninja-cowboy hybrid?”
His eyebrows furrowed more than he meant for them to. “I’m not a cowboy.”
“You literally own a ranch.”
“Yes. Because I’m a rancher.”
“Eh, six in one hand, half dozen in the other. You deal with cows, then you’re a cowboy, wouldn’t you say mate?”
Sal could feel himself bristling. He didn’t like how the woman seemed so completely unruffled by him. Normally people were intimidated by his stature, charmed by his looks, or interested in his money. But the woman in front of him was acting like he was just some nobody from the street. And while Sal was a lot of things, a nobody wasn’t one of them.
“And as a British person, you’re obviously the expert on what makes a cowboy or not.”
“Exactly, now you’re getting it.” She laughed cheerily, as if they were friends. They were most definitely not friends. “Anyway, what can I do you for? Did Elizabeth need something?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t run errands for Elizabeth.”
“Oh, then what do you do?”
Her tone was polite as punch and the look she had on her face was earnest. Too earnest. She was playing him. She was playing him and they both knew it. Frustration prickled up his spine and spilled onto his tongue, making it stick to the roof of his mouth. He hadn’t counted on the woman who tackled him being clever. Physical violence and a smart mouth usually didn’t go hand in hand.
Why was he even wasting time talking to her? It wasn’t like she was worth his time. Like Dad had said, he needed to concentrate on things that were actually important to the business.
“Nothing you need to know about,” he said curtly before turning away. It was the last word alright, but a hollow victory and he knew as much. Oh well.
However, he only managed to get maybe a single step away before a sharp click sounded behind him, almost like someone snapping two tines of a pitchfork against each other. Then there was a gasp, a curse, a thump, and then a noise that definitely was a tool falling.
Spinning back around, Sal wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the girl sitting square on her butt right in the middle of the empty stall.
“What just happened?” he asked gruffly, trying to see if something had knocked her over or she’d been kicked by a horse from another stall somehow.
“Ah, I turned wrong,” she said with a wince. “I’m pretty sure I dislocated my knee.”
Alarm bells went off in Sal’s head. People didn’t just dislocate their knees from turning. Instantly his mind went to insurance fraud, and suddenly all of the woman’s bizarre actions and bold attitude made sense.
He opened his mouth to tell her that he wasn’t going to fall for her scheme, but before he got a single syllable out, the woman was rolling up her pants and then gripping either side of her knee.
Oh… it did look real funny, bulging in the wrong spot. That wasn’t good.
He barely had time to lean forward for a better look when the girl jerked her hands in a particular way and a resounding CRACK filled the barn, startling several of the horses.
Had she just…
She didn’t just…
No. That did not happen.
“There we go,” she said with a relieved sort of breath as she shakily got back to her feet. Sal stared openly, noticing how the joint was flushed an angry red but not bulging in that very weird way anymore.
“I…” Sal started before swallowing. He couldn’t believe that he had just watched a woman pop her dislocated knee back into position like it wasn’t an issue. Surely that wasn’t normal. “Do you need me to call you a doctor?”
She let out a snort. “Please! Like I’m gonna pay someone a couple of hundred dollars to give my knee a jerk. I’ve done it plenty of times myself, so I know what I’m doing.” She started doing some gentle stretches, like she was warming up for a run rather than just having done a medical procedure on herself in the middle of a horse stall. “Besides, I really wanted to get this done before Silas came back from his ride. As sort of a thank-you for the walk-through he’s going to give me with Amaranth and Obelisk.”
Sal continued to stare at her like she was a three-headed dragon as she slowly worked her leg up and down, then bent it gingerly. After a few moments, she seemed satisfied and went back to muckraking like nothing had happened at all.
What on earth?
Clearly, he had been dismissed, nonverbally at that. He lingered a moment, not entirely sure that he was in the real world, but eventually he drifted off, his head spinning. Were all British women so particular, or was she a special case?
He didn’t know, but it was making more sense why a woman who could casually pop her own joints in an out of place without even flinching had no problem tackling him. He didn’t know when the world had turned upside down, but she was one to watch out for.
6
Nova
Just three more.
Two more.
One more good one…
Aaaand done!
Nova practically collapsed back on the mat, sweating like a horse and feeling like a limp noodle that had been cooked long past overdone. It wasn’t unusual for her physical therapy to be a challenge, but her therapist had decided to put her through the wringer that day.
It was apparently to deal with the inflammation around her knee since she had dislocated it again. It had been a couple months since she had done that, but she wasn’t too alarmed.
Ever since her doctors back on the base had made her walk on a shattered knee for about a year, she’d always had issues. It grated against itself, popped in and out, and generally did what it wanted. Nova didn’t know why her knee couldn’t want to do something convenient for her, but she guessed it had a right to be upset since she spent twelve whole months straight up abusing it during her formative years. It didn’t help that she had an insane growth spurt and ended up being a dash over six-foot tall.
“Goodness, you’re so strong. Are you sure you need to even be here?”
Nova turned her head at the friendly comment, seeing an older woman standing just off the mat. She was dressed in the typical outfit one might expect from a senior citizen at physical therapy, her white hair done up in a sensible bun and her wrinkled cheeks flushed.
“Thanks,” Nova said politely. She was so exhausted; she didn’t really have it in her to have a full-blown conversation. She hoped that the woman would be happy with a short-but-sweet response and then be on her way.
“What are you here for? Clearly your arms and shoulders are in tip-top shape! I remember when I was young and strong.”
Nova really, really believed in respecting her elders, but she was just so tired, and the warm sweat she’d worked up was quickly cooling into something damp and uncomfortable. She wasn’t nearly in the right mood to have a conversation with a stranger, but she didn’t feel like she could ignore the woman either.