Chapter 6
SIX
SUMMER
She is real.
The woman from the bar, with the perfect curves, dips, and valleys is here. I thought I’d imagined her, and then seeing her standing before me, all surly and sweet–telling me she’d been worried–I couldn’t help but fluster her a bit.
Her already tanned cheeks are turning pink, and her bright green irises look anywhere but at me. The goose behind her fans her feathers and hops down the steps.
Honk.
And just like that, the spell is broken as she looks down and scoops the bird up into her arms, though it doesn’t look happy about it.
“Sorry about Twatla,” she says, her eyes flicking back up to mine, “she’s a little ornery, but she won’t hurt ya.”
Chuckling, I tilt my head down and wet my lips, “I don’t mind a little fire in a gal.”
Her lips pop open, a quick reply on her tongue, though her eyes flit around my face and her lips close. I want to know what she’s thinking, if I’m too close to her, or if she likes whatever it is that’s charging between us.
The hum of a motorized utility vehicle snaps her attention away, and she takes a few steps back, ending our moment. Her shoulders rise and the goose flaps away from her arms, down to her feet as we wait for this Mr. Harris person she called.
There are two men in the–what did she call it?–buggy. A younger guy, and an older one. They both smile as they pull up close to where we’re standing, and the goose hops and wobbles over to the low door of the vehicle.
The younger of the two picks the goose up, and it nuzzles under his chin. He laughs, making the gorgeous woman pout, though the expression’s gone the moment she catches me staring.
“That fuckin’ bird,” she mumbles, stepping up to the door where the goose situates herself onto the young man’s lap. “Jarrett, when I agreed to let you work here this summer, I didn’t think you’d be comin’ to steal all my pets.”
His mustache stretches across his upper lip, “Is someone jealous?” He mocks, running his finger under the goose’s chin as he croons to the water fowl. “I think she is, poor Indy.”
Indy.
She crosses her arms, and leans down far enough to see the older man who’s holding back his own laughter. “You think Reese’ll take him back if I fire his ass?”
The old man laughs, tapping the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I reckon’ he would have to, sibling code and all.”
Jarrett, the younger one, looks my way and smiles, throwing out his hand. “I’m Jarrett, ranch hand.”
“Summer,” taking his hand, I nod and slide my gaze Indy’s way. “Late counselor.” She’s staring straight ahead, not looking my way.
The two men laugh, and Indy’s lips turn down as if she’s forcing herself not to smile.
Oh, baby girl, I see the tremor in your cheek.
“Well, hop on in, Summer, we’ll take ya to your bunk.” The older man says, knocking Jarrett’s shoulder, prompting him to step out and grab my bag. Throwing it into the buggy, he steps into the back row and motions for me to sit in the front.
Twatla honks by my feet and nips at my boots.
Jarrett laughs, and Indy swats at the goose who fans her wings and runs off into the lake.
“Well, whatcha waitin’ on? We’re burning what sunset we’ve got left,” the older man says.
Getting into the buggy, Indy takes a few steps away and turns her back, walking up the small stairs to her door. The way her hips sway, making her plump ass look perfectly biteable… it’s like the sweetest drug.
She’s my new boss’s daughter, and that should be a firm line not to cross. However, I’ve never been one to follow rules.
Yeah, and look where that got you.
“I’m Mr. Harris,” the older man starts yelling over the roar of the buggy’s engine as he takes off. “My wife and I live closest to the stables, we don’t do too much with the youngin’s and the horses, but if you need anythin’, we’re around.”
I’m not sure how to respond, so I remain quiet and just smile back while watching the scenery pass by.
There’s a patch of wooded area with a well used trail, and once we’re through the trees, the whole camp’s laid out in front of me.
There’s cabins dotted over the vast open land and a circular space in the center with logs settled around a pit.
Heading down the hill toward the camp, he takes a right and heads around the cabin formations that circle the pit.
There’s a small hill that he travels up and over and a smaller cabin situated not too far from a house that’s got a fenced in garden off to the side, and a modest exterior with cheery decor.
“That’s mine and the Missus,” Mr. Harris says, nodding toward the house. “Jarrett lives with us too, for now, until we get the bunks above the barn situated.”
Pulling up to the front door of the wooden cabin that I get to call home for the next eight weeks.
Both men climb out, and Mr. Harris walks up to the door, turns a key and opens it wide, as Jarrett carries my bag into the space.
The wood groans under my weight when I step up to the cabin, and I pause at the door.
Mr. Harris must notice my hesitation because he assures me, “Ah, that, this place is sturdy, trust me you won’t fall through,” his smile’s warm, something that makes my stomach pinch a little, missing Mr. Grimes.
“Well, come on in, we’ve got the air circulatin’ and we’re not keen on coolin’ the whole county. ”
Stepping into the cabin, I let out a breath.
This is my new beginning, and I will not be chained to my past.