Wrangler (8 page)

My gut is tight beyond reason, and even at two o’clock in the morning when I think of that dimple my balls nearly seize up and empty like a fourteen-year-old boy opening his first Playboy.

Now, here I sit, listening to Roger’s voice outside the car losing his usual casual humor.  I shake my head, roll my eyes and grab the door handle.  Sulking here alone while he’s trying to wrangle two drunk girls is not being a proper wing-man. So I nut up and my boots hit the dirt parking lot with a dusty puff as I jump down out of the SUV.

“Last chance.”  Roger yells as the girls lean on each other and begin to trek back toward the entrance to the bar.

“What the fuck?” I watch them go, but I don’t like it because that means I have to stay here longer.

“They say they’re staying.”  Roger throws up his hands.  “The place stays open until four, but they stop serving at two.  I don’t think they understand that.”  With a shrug, he turns to the car and laughs. “Whatever, bro, they’ve got some other friends inside, said they would catch a ride with them, so I guess you’re my hook up for the night.”

“Fuck you.”  I let out a long, low groan. 

“Whatever, let ‘em go.  I’m ready to hit the sack anyway.”  Roger centers his Stetson then stuffs his hands in his pockets and cracks his neck.

“Fine by me.  This bar bullshit isn’t my cup-a-Joe.”

“Yeah?”  Roger’s low tone rises.  “Something inside there sure looked like it was your cuppa somethin’.  I’d say you’re just horny but I know better.  You turn down more tail than most men will ever see and your eyes lit up like the fourth of July in there.”

We jump back into the Range Rover and I push the ignition button. The SUV fires up and we head through town in silence.  I need the quiet, it gives me time to breathe and think over what I’m going to do now that I’m home for good.

When we cruise past Bennett’s Feed & Farm store, I decide that is where I’ll start tomorrow.  In towns like this, the Feed Store is better than any local newspaper, any town crier.  Folks that own places like that know everything that happens in towns like this.  Land for sale, who’s going under, where their might be work.

I’m looking forward to a month or so of anonymity while I get myself organized and try to settle back into life here.  Fuck, I’d just do farm hand work for a while, that would suit me just fine. I need to clear my head. And nothing will keep you from thinking too much like a hard day’s work.

I love where I grew up.  Michigan is God’s country. This part of the state is all rolling hills and pastures.  The corn grows tall and the people move slow. The sunsets are made from pink-lemonade and crackling fire and the food does bad things for your cholesterol.  But, even in all this beauty, the ugliness of the world found my family.

It’s not that I didn’t have a good upbringing, quite the contrary.  My parents were the kind of people folks call salt of the earth. 

Hard work, love, church and gentle discipline were the roots of my young years.  Dad was a deacon at First Baptist and mom won the pie-making contest six years in a row at the county 4-H fair.  I grew up farming a few hours from here, but it’s the same farm country.  Corn, wheat, soybeans, chickens...it may not sound glamorous, but if you’ve been there, you know it’s not just a job.  It’s a life.

When the sun rises and sets over the gold of a summer wheat field as you sit on the porch, a hard day’s work under your belt and a glass of tea in your hand, there’s no big city stardom that can compete.

My parents were great.  I’ll never let a bad word be said against them, not as long as I live. My mom’s dementia aside, she’s still one of the best people I know, and if Dad was still around then he’d be right up there in my estimation along with her. But he died a year ago of grief, shame and a massive heart attack.

See, Dad has a son from a little hiccup he’d had with a girl in high school.  Not that I’m judging. My dad is a good man. 

He wanted to marry Belinda when they were both sixteen but she thought being the wife of a dirt farmer was below her.  Dad was lucky in that respect because he never would have met my mom if they’d made it official, but he always did everything he could to be part of my half-brother’s life. Didn’t do him any good though. Leander took a very different path and it broke my father’s heart and destroyed our family.

I was no saint myself, don’t get me wrong.  Shit, I raised ten kinds of hell and learned to fight just like a lot of country boys.  I know right from wrong though, even if I have got a slow burning temper and a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

I don’t back down when I’m dug in, and I earned a reputation as a soft spoken guy who you don’t want to cross.  But that about sums it up.  I don’t go looking for trouble, but if trouble comes to roost, I’ve got no problem wringing its fucking neck.

Now, Mom is over in Sommerville, the area where they have subdivisions full of McMansions and a huge mall with fancy stores who’s names I wouldn’t know.  It’s twenty miles or so closer to the city from here, and she’s in a home there for folks with memory problems.  I flew home from Oklahoma once a month for the last five years to see her. I’d come in, stay at Dad’s little apartment when he was still alive, see Mom and fly back out before anyone knew I was here.  I would call Roger now and then and he and sometimes his sister Courtney would meet me for dinner, but other than that, I haven’t been back for any length of time until now.

When Dad passed away, I did what I could to respect his wishes.  He always said he didn’t want a funeral, so I scattered his ashes over the old farm early one morning when I came back for my monthly visit with Mom.

A thunderstorm rolled across our old two hundred seventy acres as I let him blow away into the wind, and for me it just brought back everything that he’d lost. He’d worked hard his entire life, but they were forced to give up the farm.  Dad just lost the heart for it, and as much as I tried to help, he pushed me away.  He knew I needed to run wild, find my own way, and as much as it broke my heart at the time, he was right.

I adjust my ball cap as I take the turn out of town and onto the dirt road that leads back to Roger’s place.  I’m pushing it close to ninety down the dusty gravel because that’s just how it rolls out here, but it’s pitch black and I have to squint to adjust my eyes to the darkness. I catch a glimpse of my eyes in the mirror and it makes me think about Mom.

She doesn’t even know who I am when I come visit her.  For the last year, with the change in the ownership at the ranch back in Oklahoma, and knowing Mom was here without me, that’s when I knew even with the dark cloud over our family name, it was time to head back.  It costs me six thousand dollars a month to keep her in the nicest place we could find. 

Dad left a small inheritance to me and the rest of what they had left I manage in my mom’s trust.  It doesn’t cover the entire amount for her care every month, but I’ll cover it as long as it’s needed.

But, she needs more than just the bills paid, even if she doesn’t know who I am.  And I need her, I suppose.  I need to know I stood up, did the right thing, faced down these family demons and made my parents proud.  It’s what Dad would have wanted and that is what I plan to do.

I’m lost in all the thoughts when suddenly I see a dark silhouette of someone walking on the side of the road.

“
Fuck.
”  I yell as I stomp the brakes, sending Roger and I lurching forward.

“Jesus!  What the fuck, what’s wrong?”  Roger was nodding off. Now he’s looking over at me but my hand is already on the door handle.  “Where the fuck are you going?”

I caught the glint of rhinestones spelling out ‘Crutches’ on the front of her black tank top walking on the side of the road.  I’m out of the truck and running at her.

Fuck, what the fuck is she doing walking alone in the middle of the damn night? 

I’m pissed as hell and even surprise myself at the level of anger that’s rising up inside me. The idea that she’s alone on the side of a country road in the middle of the night. That’s fucking dangerous.

As my eyes adjust to the night, I see the moon shine off her hair and the slip of her blue skirt catches the breeze.  But she sees me first and I realize I must be scaring the shit out of her because she stops dead and looks like a jack rabbit ready to fly.

“Hey, it’s okay.”  I slow my pace to a jog, hands raised high above my shoulders. Walking isn’t going to get me to her fast enough and I don’t want her out here alone for another second.

The Rover crunches the dirt next to me with Roger in the driver’s seat now inching it forward.

“Hey, what the hell man?”  He yells out the open passenger window craning his neck to see what I’m running after.

But all my focus is on her. I don’t respond to Roger. I see the whites of her wide eyes and she’s fucking terrified. That’s only sensible, but she needs to know we are not about to scoop her up and take her out to a field somewhere and defile her.

“You shouldn’t be out here.  Why are you walking?”

“Go away.  I’m fine,” she snaps back and her arms cross over her incredible tits.

“Honestly, I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know if you need help.”

“No, I’m fine.”  Her face twists up as she says it.

“Look, I give you my solemn word, I am not a murderer, rapist or even a shoplifter. I pay my taxes and I floss. I just saw you walking and that’s dangerous as fuck this time of night.”

Roger leans toward the open passenger window. “Look, darlin’, he’s right. You need a ride somewhere?”

I want to tell him to shut up. I realize he’s just trying to help, but something burns inside of me and I don’t want anyone else trying to take care of her. 

“No, really, I’m fine.”  She hesitates, her hot chocolate eyes darting from the Rover to me, then back.  She’s still got that look like a skittish field mouse.

I raise my hands higher and wider in surrender, hoping the gesture will help calm her.

“Look, it’s miles to anywhere, you are walking back toward town.  Your car died, right?”  My skin turns hot, a momentary flash in my mind that some fucking prick might have left her out here like this makes me want to hurt someone.

She hesitates, so I cease my forward motion and lower my hands, stuffing them into my pockets. I take the opportunity to adjust the growing wood behind my zipper so she doesn’t get the wrong idea, but keep my eyes keen on her every movement and breath.

Her chest rises and falls as she considers me, wondering whether to trust me. Finally, after what feels like hours, she blinks and nods, huffs out a breath and looks at me with something other than fear.

“My truck died.”  She turns her face back down the road, tossing those silky waves that I want to grip in my fists over her shoulder.  “It’s just down there.  I’ve only been walking like two minutes.”

I squint into the darkness and sure enough, I see the outline of a pickup pulled so far off the side of the road its wheels are damn near dangling in the ditch.

“Let’s go see.  What did it do before it died?”  I step toward her and she hesitates for a moment before answering.

“It’s been acting weird.  It goes along fine, then it sort of sputters, acts like it’s going to die, but then it keeps going.  This is the first time it’s just completely died on me though.”

“Ummm, dude, what’s the deal?”  Roger hollers out the window of the Rover. I’m so close to her now that I can see the movement of her throat when she swallows, and the reflection of the moon in her eyes.

“I’m going to check her truck. Just hold on.”

I consider just telling him to leave now, because honestly, I have zero intention of getting back in his truck tonight, but I don’t want to scare her any more than she already is, so I play along.

I add over my shoulder to Roger. “Just pull down off the road and shine your lights toward the front of her truck.  I’m going to take a look.”  I tip my head at her with a grin.  “Like I said, I’m not a murderer or anything, just a guy who’s going to look at your truck.”

And get his lips onto your lips.  Both sets if at all possible.

I outstretch one hand as if I’m placing it on the small of her back when she turns to follow me.  I want to touch her more than I want my next breath, but she’s not ready even if I am. 

Fuck, if she knew what was crossing my mind right now, she’d run out into that corn field and never look back.  But instead she gives me a wispy smile and bites her bottom lip.  In the dark it’s hard to see all the stunning detail of her eyes, but I can feel them roll over me and my dick is back with a vengeance.  He knows what he wants and I don’t blame him.  This little dove has her sweet talons already digging into my heart and I know exactly jack shit about her.

“Why didn’t you call someone?”  I ask, doing my best to not set off her creeper radar.

She shuffles in the dirt. “My phone died.” She doesn’t quite pick her feet up entirely with each step and it’s cute as fuck.  “I’m not a phone person, I always forget to charge the stupid thing.”

The sound of crickets and the rush of wind through the fields of corn is the only thing I hear besides the near deafening sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

“Well you should.”  It comes out harsher than I intend but my hackles go up thinking of her being out here without her phone charged.  Any fucker could have pulled up with her walking alone down the road.  Thinking about the danger she’s put herself in is making me lose my mind but I have to push the thought away.

Roger beats us to the side of her truck, and as we’re walking the final yards he backs up, pivoting the SUV back and forth across the dirty stretch of deserted road until he turns the Rover our way and the headlights blind us for a second as he maneuvers before the low beams are finally blocked out by her truck.

The glow of light catches around her body, and I don’t hesitate to take a look. She’s lush, full and I want to pull all that softness next to me and know what it feels like. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a lecture from some stranger,” she snaps back with a little sass in her voice.  I like it.

When we get to her pickup I reach past her to the driver’s side door and pull it open, then reach down under the dash and pop the hood.  The scent of the roses hits me inside the cab and I look to see the basket sitting on the bench seat. My lips can’t fight the smile that breaks wide.