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The wind howled in the canyon under cover of night. A coyote howled somewhere far away, and down on the canyon floor, a lone figure sat by a fire and gazed up at the moon. Most nights, Leonora "less than” Lesso had only the moon for company, and that was she liked. She and the white lady were old friends at this point.
Tonight, however, she was expecting company. The local madame, Dove E. was to get up out of her feather bed and spend a night by Lesso’s fire, talking about old times.
Lesso took a swig of coffee from the pitcher, and hissed a little as it burnt her throat. So maybe the old times were less old than they could have been. It’d only been what, two, and, three years? But it could have been a decade with how much had changed.
Lesso had been trying to make it as a ranch hand, all dressed up like as a boy like she was now, and Dove had been just another over-trimmed prissy stuck-up rancher’s daughter, flirting with the help. Except she wasn’t just another rancher’s daughter, was she?
Lesso had started on Dove’s pa’s farm in the spring of ‘82. It was calving season, and they’d had some unexpected arrivals on account of one of the bulls getting loose and breaking into the dairy barn. Lesso had been hired as extra help. Well now, she’d been kept busy dawn till dusk, no breaks, no noon rest, it was eat, drink, and piss on the job until quittin' time.
Lesso didn’t mind, she was sturdy and the pay was good. If she’d’ve been a man, it would’ve been alright, but she wasn’t, and pretty soon, her monthlies put in an appearance, and Lesso got to panicking. She couldn’t couldn’t beg off to go change a rag now, could she? But if she stayed, she would bleed through her trousers, and Lesso didn’t think they’d believe she’d had some major internal organ failure for long. But what could she do? So she stayed and fed calves and grew more and more anxious, and by the time lunch rolled around, she’d worked up an unnatural sweat and pretty nearly made up her mind to walk off and claim the runs, when who should come waltzing up but Miss Dove.
Miss Dove was dark skinned, dark haired, and in Lesso's opinion, would have been a real beauty, if she weren't starched, ironed, and trimmed until you could barely see her, and so covered in flounces that Lesso figured there must have been at least ten yards of fabric in her skirt if there was an inch. Somehow, the damn prissy princess was as spotless as if she was on her way to a grand tea with fancy ladies, instead of inside a dusty barn that had birthing fluids covering half the floor.
Momentarily distracted from her troubles, Lesso watched as Miss Dove found the overseer and put on what looked to be the performance of a lifetime. She smiled. She simpered. She clasped her hands behind her back and fluttered her eyelashes. "Señor Padilla," she said, her voice as sweet as honey. "Might I borrow one of your nice sturdy ranch hands to help me with some lifting? I can't seem to get the well cover off, not without spoiling my dress." She beamed up at him, and Señor Padilla melted like a pound of lard. He let her take whoever she wished, and Miss Dove picked Lesso.
Lesso thanked her lucky stars. Now all she'd have to do would be to slip away as soon as that well cover was off, and she could take care of anything she needed to. If she were only so lucky.
The well was quite a ways from the dairy barn, and Lesso readied herself for Miss Dove's chattering about bows and bonnets, or whatever women liked to talk about these days, but that didn't happen either. As soon as they were out of hearing distance of the barn, Miss Dove said "Apologies Mr. Lesso, but you looked like you could use a break," and then she got to talking about how she thought it was mighty awful that the menfolk had to work so hard when the women were just sitting doing nothing, and meanwhile, she thought the women should be helping if they could, and that she wanted to earn her own money but they wouldn't let her.
And Lesso nodded periodically and grunted her acknowledgment, because she'd felt exactly the same at one time or another, and she'd left to make her fortune in the wide world because of it. If her brothers could leave, then why couldn't she? And in their clothes, no less. But, she had problems they didn't.
They found the well in good order, and Lesso went through the motions of leaning over and lifting away the heavy oak cover so that Miss Dove could draw water. Then, to her surprise, when Lesso turned round, she found Miss Dove eyeing her behind. "Miss, I really ain't your type," Lesso told her, a mite amused.
"You're bleeding," said Miss Dove, and Lesso would've fainted, only she'd been brought up with some discipline.
"Yes ma'am, I have some organ damage," Lesso said, cool as you like.
"No you don't," said Miss Dovey, her eyes widening. "It's your time of the month." The two women stood and looked at each other. "If you wash out your trousers and get all of 'em wet, we can claim we spilled some water, and no one will know any different," Miss Dove offered. In that instant, Lesso knew they were friends. She hadn't wanted to be, but they were now. They washed the trousers, got Lesso some tackle, and walked back to the dairy farm, gnawing on some chocolate bonbons Dove had been given by a suitor. They'd started courting two weeks after that, and had seen each other for only a month before Lesso got let go, and Dove declared she had nothing more to stay for and was going to make her fortune elsewhere, just like Lesso.
And now? Lesso had come riding into town, just looking for a place to spend the night after chasing off some bandits for a couple of farmers, when who does she see on the town bulletin board, but Dove, apparently running for mayor. A little more asking around, and come to find out that her Dove is the owner of the local brothel, the largest and most well kept building in town. Well obviously Lesso was going to say hello...Dove had promised to meet her so they could have a real chat, and as Lesso lay under the stars, gazing up at the moon and reminiscing over the early days, she heard footsteps in the dark. Dove's footsteps. Her princess. Lesso's heart was pounding. It hadn't been like this earlier. Lesso must be going soft. But- Maybe it was anticipation instead. Maybe she'd gotten the sense that this could be something. This meeting of friends, of old acquaintances, old lovers, maybe it wasn't just that, but the beginning of something new. Maybe they could be- not them again, but something even better. Something permanent.