CHAPTER TWO: DON'T MAKE FACES

Jayne woke the next morning to find the space next to him cold and empty. But the smell of frying bacon wafting past his nose drew him out of bed and into the kitchen. River stood at the stove, crisp white apron over a brightly colored dress. She had a pot of xi fan going on the back burner and eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan. She turned as he entered, smiling up at him.

“Zao an.”

“Morning.” He sniffed the air appreciatively. “Something smells good.”

“Anything smells good when you’re not the one cooking it.”

“Hey! What’s that suppose ta mean?” He reached out and snagged her by the waist, pulling her in for a good morning kiss. When he slid his hand over the curve of her buttock to pull her closer, he was jolted out of the kiss by direct application of a spatula to the side of his head.

“You’ll ruin breakfast!”

“Nah.” He nudged her in the direction of the kitchen table where all the condiments were set out, making her beam up at him. “Why don’t I take care a the cookin’ today, huh?”

He had the food done in short order but before they could eat, someone came knocking on their front door. Jayne pulled out his gun and went to see who it was. He nudged the little curtain apart using the gun barrel. Ralph stood on their front porch, with his hat in his hands and a grave expression on his face.

Jayne tucked his gun back into his waistband and opened the door. “Sheriff, what’re you doin’ here so early?”

“Is River here?”

“’Course she is. Where else would she be?”

“Good, good. Listen, Jayne, I need ta talk ta the two a ya. Is this a good time?”

“Uh, no?”

River invited Ralph in anyway. They sat down in the living room with cups of real green tea, or in Jayne’s case, tea and his breakfast. Jayne and River sat together on the settee, Ralph in an armchair across from them.

“So, Sheriff, whatchu wan talk abou’?” Jayne asked around a spoonful of porridge.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It’s about the men River shot last n