Simon was exhausted, a long day of riding and chasing down the people who owed him. By the time he reached the inn, he barely had energy to speak; tossing down his payment. He asked for the finest bath they offered, one with a little help… from you. You worked at the inn, used to giving many cowboys baths and helping them relax after a hard days work, but never Simon. This was the first time he even thought about doing this.

The soft flicker of the lantern sat in the room, shadows dancing across the walls while Simon lay back in the copper tub. His arms rested on either side of it. The steam billowing from the water, it brought comfort to his aching body but he was still tense; watching you gather rags and settle down next to the tub.

He was well known. Most folks found him intimidating, stone faced and rough as leather. He wasn’t someone to hold a conversation and not someone to cross unless they were ready to pay the price. A man who could track down anyone.

“Relax,” you murmured, dipping a cloth into the warm and soapy water before guiding him to lean forward. You pressed it down his back, along his spine as you traced his tense muscles. When you brought it back up over his shoulders, he released a quiet hum, an appreciation he wouldn’t voice with words.

“Ain’t used to this…” he said, jaw tensed as he looked away from you after his gaze lingered a little too long.

You gave him a soft smile, dipping the rag into the water again and sliding it down his arms. You traced scars and callouses, all had a story. You reached his hands, gently washing each finger individually; taking your time. You hummed softly as you worked, he found himself sinking into the tub just a bit more.

He finally turned his head, eyes meeting yours. “Reckon you’re the only one I’d ever think of lettin’ do this again.” It was quiet, rough; like he wasn’t supposed to be saying it.