Kotlc Oneshots [Parts 1-13 Pre Unlocked]

Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other

I've had this idea for a fic for over a year

I've tried to write it twice, but both times the execution was subpar and I never finished them

At long last, here's the Keefitz country/farmer/kinda cowboy? au

Just... like... 1880s keeper. I guess. Whatever, you know. 

TWs: The q word, used (periodically accurate) derogatorily, swearing, Southern accents, the state of Kansas, horse boys, OOC Alden, the late 1800s in America being themself, underage drunkenness/on page drinking

Word count: 7,170

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Keefe was walking through the hell more commonly known as Kansas.

The sun beat on his neck, thin shirt soaked with sweat, rocks digging into his bare feet.

If it was his choice, he would've been wearing shoes. Of course, it wasn't, and his boots had been stolen about 12 miles east by some assholes calling themselves bandits.

If it was his choice, he also would've been riding a horse, but she had been stolen along with his shoes. And his spare clothes. And his water skin.

In the simplest of terms, Keefe was having a shitty, shitty day.

Luckily, just there, tiny in the horizon, there looked to be a homestead.

With renewed energy, Keefe waked faster. Then jogged. Then ran.

Eventually, with huffing breath, he reached the house.

It was... big. Whoever lived here was rich. The kind of rich that bought you a couple dozen acres of farmland, a pond, another dozen horses, and a house that really looked like it should've been a summer estate for the queen of England.

And standing right behind the gate, was the "whoever" that owned it.

"What're you doin' here, boy?"

The man was tall, but not in a particularly intimidating way. Really, it read more like a giraffe with a southern accent pretending to be a lion.

He was also vaguely familiar. There was a good chance Keefe ran into him some time in the last eight years he'd spent on the road. His accent wasn't Kansas, really. It was more Georgia. Keefe had never been to Georgia, but this man seemed polished and rich enough that he might've done some travelling.

"Just passin' through, sir. Could use a rest for a night, if you got a spare barn-" they did have a spare barn, they had 5 barns, hard not to have a spare, "I'm a good worker, sir. Good with horses, too. Just need a good night of sleep before I reach the next town."

"Well, just your luck, son. There's a town about 3 miles thataway. Could reach it by sundown if you get started now."

"Sir, I really-"

"Alden!" yelled a woman, barrelling towards them faster than a train, "What in the world are you doin'?"

The woman, despite the fact that she was running at them faster than an Olympian, was much more majestic than the man at the gate. Her already dark skin was tanned in a way that anyone could tell she had spent her fair share of time outside, and her (clearly expensive, if simple and practical) dress trailed in the wind behind her like a flag in the wind.

"Della, darlin', there's no need-"

"Now, who do we have here?" she asked as she came to a stop, entirely ignoring the man, Alden.

"Um, my name's Keefe, ma'am."

"Got yourself a last name, Keefe?"

"No, ma'am, just Keefe will do."