Chapter 16 Jovie
5 o’clock on Monday morning rolled around, and I was up, dressed, and waiting for Clay by the gator to kick off our first full week together. Clay arrived thirty minutes late, looking even less like a morning person than I did. His face was unshaven, and he was wearing dark sunglasses though the sun had not yet risen.
I handed him a cup of coffee and attempted to muster a smile.
“I take it mornings aren’t your thing either?”
“Not in the least bit,” he groaned.
“So, what’s on the plan for today, Clay?”
He took a long sip of the coffee I’d given him before responding. “I’m taking you through harvest management. I’ll show you the crops Clarence had set up for the year, the rotation plan, and where things are stored and managed before they go out for sale.”
Once Clay got some coffee in his system, Monday unfolded in a series of humorous antics, with Clay guiding me through my grandfather’s crops and introducing me to Henry, the overseeing expert in crop management and rotation on Ashwood ranch.
Henry, a kind, older gentleman, had worked for my grandfather for over thirty years, recalling me as a child, though I couldn’t reciprocate the memory. He offered his condolences at my grandfather's passing and reaffirmed his commitment to the Ashwood ranch. The day concluded back in my grandfather’s office, where Clay demonstrated how the software management tool tracked Henry’s inputs and provided analytics on the successful yield of each crop we planted. My mind was once again swimming with information by the time we decided to call it quits for the day.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Clay asked, settling back into the chair across from my grandfather’s desk and stretching his arms overhead.
“Wanna eat the roast beef Gloria made and then hang by the pool with some wine?” I suggested.
“You’re through with my moonshine already, huh?” Clay teased with a cheeky grin.
“Just not on a night where I have to get up before the sun."
We headed to the kitchen to prepare our meals and then made our way out to the pool. It was 6 in the evening at this point, and the sun still hung high in the sky. We shared laughter, stories, and later, Clay suggested building a bonfire to roast marshmallows.
In the brief time I'd spent with Clay, I couldn't help but sense that his brothers treated him like an annoying little brother, even though he was now a grown man. Living on a vast, rural ranch with only his dad and two mostly indifferent brothers sounded like it would get lonely. Despite this, I liked Clay—he was kind, didn't give me a hard time, funny, and easygoing—so spending some extra time with him after a long day of work was a no-brainer.
As I rose to fetch some wood from a nearby pile perched next to a shed, a black figure darted out from under a log. Before I could react, I felt the attacker's sharp sting and shouted in pain.
“Shit!” I yelled, dropping the wood as a small black scorpion scurried away.
Clay rushed to my side; concern etched across his face. “Scorpion,” he said, examining the sting mark on the top of my foot. Next thing I knew, strong arms had enveloped me, and I found myself staring directly into Mitchell’s eyes.
“I heard the screaming and knew that was the sound of someone who'd been stung. Let me take you inside, and we'll get it cleaned out. I’ve been stung a time or two and the quicker you treat it, the better. Did you see what kind it was, Clay?” Mitchell inquired as he carried me inside.
“Looked like a small, non-venomous one,” Clay replied following closely behind him.
Mitchell nodded. “They like hanging out in debris piles, and the wood I’m sure attracted them. We should be able to easily treat it here without a trip to the hospital.”
My foot throbbed as Mitchell carried me inside, placing me on the couch before heading to the bathroom to gather what he needed.
“I’m going to clean it out, Jovie, but this may sting,” Mitchell warned as he pressed a piece of gauze sprayed with an antiseptic to the spot. It did sting, but thankfully the pain was short-lived.
“Was that bad?” he asked.
“Nope,” I smiled through the pain.
“Ok, good. Now put this cold compress on it and elevate it for the rest of the night. You should be good as new by tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mitchell. I really appreciate this,” I said as he stood up, wiped his hands on his shirt and nodded with a smile, then turned to leave.
“Take care of her tonight, Clay,” Mitchell called back before hesitating like he wanted to say something more. Instead, he turned and exited the house.
No sooner than the door closed behind Mitchell, an angry and unexpected Nash burst in through the front door.
“What the hell happened?” Nash demanded, his eyes scanned my body where I lay on the couch, finally landing on Clay kneeling next to me.
“Calm down, bro. A non-venomous scorpion got her when she picked up a piece of wood by the pool,” Clay explained.
“What the hell were you thinking putting her in danger?” Nash growled at Clay.
“Nash, I'm fine” I stated, but Clay didn’t need my defense.
“It was a bonfire, not a brothel. I didn’t put her in harm’s way,” Clay retorted with an eye roll, heading back out to the pool area to clean up the mess we'd left behind from dinner.
Nash and I were left in the living room now. Though I was upset that Nash had attacked Clay, Mitchell’s advice to stay lying down with my foot elevated prevented me from meeting Nash’s gaze. He was acting ridiculous, and it annoyed me that he was blaming Clay for something he couldn't have prevented. Additionally, I couldn’t make sense why he cared so much.
I could feel Nash’s eyes on my back as he stood by the front door. Hesitantly, he walked over and sat down, perching on the coffee table beside me.