Country Girl at Heart

Chapter 4

My head throbs, I'm only half awake, and feel totally underdressed right now. Even though I'm going to be on a ranch all day.
     "There she is," Wren greets me when I meet him outside, "thought I'd be waitin' here all day."
     "It's way too early for me." I try and groan away the sleep. "Do I have to do this every morning?"
     "Most of 'em, yep. The other ones you'll be spendin' gatherin' eggs and such with Ali. By the end'a this you'll be the master at cookin' eggs and bacon. Maybe even steak, too."
Oof, I forgot about Ali. "Can't wait."
     His smile tells me he thinks I'm being genuine. "Let's get to it."
     Come to find out, working a ranch is a lot harder than I anticipated. There is a rigorous schedule that must be followed on time or the entire day could get messed up. Animals would throw a fit, everything would be dirty, shit piles would double. It's like a never ending list of chores from hell. My muscles ache and we're only half way through the day. I've never been covered in this much sweat or in need of an ice cold water more than right now.
    I stop shoveling to catch a breath. "When do we get a break?"
     "You don't mean to tell me you're givin' up already are ya?"
     "No. I just need a break. Haven't you ever heard of labor laws?"
"I ain't never heard'a no labor laws."
     "They protect employees from being neglected in the work place. You're supposed to give every employee at least one 15 minute break and a lunch."
     He scoffs as if that's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "Well we ain't got none'a those on my ranch. And last time I checked, you ain't a employee. More like a prisoner," he cracks up laughing.
     I glare from across the pen, not finding that to be funny.
     The laughter stops when he sees I'm not playing along. "Sorry. Thought you'd think that to be funny."
     "You thought wrong." I pick up the shovel and stab it into the shit with a shameful frustration.
     "Look." He throws his into the ground with one blow and faces me straight on. "I don't want it to be this way for the rest'a the time you're here. I thought maybe this would be good for us. We can get'a know each other more."
     "Forcing me to shovel pig shit while dressed like this... is not exactly the right way to do that."
     "Well it's gonna have to be good enough because there ain't no mall's or fine dinin' to go do. Which is what I know you like."
      I wish I had the balls to tell him I'm here to rekindle any type of relationship with him. But the truth is, I'm not. I'm here to live out my sentence and then go right back to my normal life. The life I live with my mom. The life I've lived with my mom and no 'Dad' for the last decade.
     But I don't have balls.
     The only thing left to do now is smile and wave. Put on a fake happy mask, grin and bare it, and pretend that everything is fine and dandy.
     "Just don't call me a prisoner."
     "You're right." He walks over and takes my shovel. "But you aren't an employee neither. You're my daughter. Always have been, always will be."
     I feel so awkward with him standing this close, waiting for me to join him in the heart felt moment he thinks he's created.
Subject change!
     I clear my throat. "Where to now?"
     His expression falters, but I can't let his obvious disappointment get to me. Otherwise a soft spot may form in my heart and he very well could sneak right up into it.
     "Follow me."
     He brings me further away from the god awful stench we were submerged in and out to the area with blocks of hay stacked to enormous heights. Flash backs of being a little girl and seeing if I could climb all the way to the top tingle in my brain. I used to help Wren cut the ropes off and haul what I could to the corrals. I wasn't much use, but he never cared. He still let me follow along. It's interesting being back here as a teenager. I didn't think the nostalgia would hit me this hard.
     "Speaking of employees." He turns a corner then yells, "Need any help out here, boy?"
     I stop in my tracks because I am not prepared for what we walk up on. Dawson is a few yards away, hauling a whole block of hay from the pile. His arms are tight as he strategically throws the bail around. The sun gleams off his torso, kissing his bare skin with a tan.
Or licking.
Either way.
The sight of him shirtless reverberates all the way through my body, stopping at my core. And oh boy, that cowboy hat almost does me in.
"Lexi!" My dad's booming voice causes me to jump. "Get your ass over here and start haulin' hay!"
This isn't how I usually present myself but I don't have a choice. I have to walk up to him breathless, smelly, and covered in shit.
"Nice to see ya again," Dawson says as he walks by and tosses a bail behind me. "Hope you got plenty of sleep last night."
I squint playfully at him, knowing full well what he's hinting at. "A full 8 hours. I've never felt more rested."
A smile grows into his dimples. "How's your day goin' so far?"
"It's... going. Let's just say, it's been long. My entire body hurts."
He stops to laugh at me. "You'll get used to the hours."
"I don't think I've woken up that early in years... maybe even ever."
"That's not true," Wren pipes in, "you used to get up with me every mornin' when you were lil. Bright n' early with a smile on your face. You loved comin' out here with me."
"I was a kid. I didn't know that sleeping in is always the better choice."
His laugh is so forced, I don't know what to say. I didn't mean for it to sound like an attack but that's how he took it.
"Come on over here," Dawson breaks the tension, "I'll show you what to do."
I take one look at the size of the blocks and laugh out loud. They're practically as big as me. "You do know there is no way I have the strength to lift one of these, right?"
    "Figured as much." He whips out a pocket knife, holding it over to me. "I'll do the heavy liftin' if you can handle this."
My eyes accidentally slip over the smooth skin of his chest, moving up and around his shoulders and down to this thick wrists. "No arguments here." I take the knife.
For what feels like hours, we take care of the hay situation. By the end I'm starving and need to sit down. I make my way to the shaded area.
     "How ya feelin'?" Wren looks worried. "Hangin' in there?"
     "Barely." I sigh, taking a seat on one of the giant hay piles. To my surprise, it's pretty comfortable.
     "Oh look, right on time. There's Becky with the sandwich's."
     I run up to her, thanking the gods for food. I'm freaking starving.
     "Thank you, ma'am," Dawson coos.
     "First day treatin' ya good enough?" Becky laughs as I scarf the sandwich. I must really look like hell if everyone keeps asking me that.
     I answer with a grunt and another full bite. This may be the best sandwich I've ever had. Or maybe it's the fact that this used to be something Wren and I did, back when he was my dad. Everytime I went out with him or rode in the tractor he would pack us brown lunch sacks. We each got a bag of chips (usually Cheetos) and a Mountain Dew. What I looked forward to the most was his signature sandwich - white bread, mayo, cheddar cheese, ham, and pickles. It was award winning in my books. Biting into it now, it feels like the first time, and it doesn't disappoint.
     "I can't believe you still make them like this," I say.
     "No other way to make 'em."
     "If I ever have to choose my last meal... I think it would be this."
     "Really?" His eyes light up. "Well, I'm happy to here it."
      Becky laughs with joy. "Good thing you get to eat them everyday until the end of the month!"
     "I'll admit," Dawson speaks up, "I wasn't sure about the pickles at first."
     "The pickles are the best part!" I guffaw at him.
     "I know that now. The Mountain Dew combo is unstoppable."
     "Wait, you have Mountain Dew too?" I haven't had soda in years, but if she has some that would make this lunch more than memorable.
     "Sure do, honey." She pulls a few cans from a tiny cooler and tosses one at me and Dawson.
     "None for me?" Wren looks hurt.
     "Shoot!" Becky presses the backs of her hands to her hips. "I forgot we need three now."
     Dawson and I glance at eachother, I bet we're thinking the same thing.
      "You should go with Becky to get one!" I suggest.
     "Oh no, I don't want to get behind."
     "That's what you have us for, right? What's the point of having a young, tough ranch hand and a semi paid laboring prisoner if you can't step away for a while?" I feel bad manipulating him by pretending to connect over his bad joke, but...
     He tries to hold back a grin, which tells me it worked. "Well then, I guess you get your break after all. Should only be a few minutes."
     "Don't worry." Becky winks at me while he's not looking. "I'll keep him busy."
     I smile with relief and wave after them. "Finally."
Dawson laughs. "What did you mean by 'prisoner'?" He cracks open his soda.
     I watch him tilt his head back as he chugs, then licks his lips. The whole thing is on the verge of being sexual but really it's just my girly hormones overwhelmed by the cowboy in front of me. Still shirtless, might I add.
     He looks at me expectantly, but I totally forgot what he asked. "What did you say?"
     "I was askin' why you said 'prisoner' just now."
     "Oh." I grab the mountain dew, not opening it, just using it as a distraction. "He called me a prisoner earlier thinking it would be funny. It wasn't."
     "How long has it been since you last saw him?"
     "Is the distance that obvious?" I half laugh. "I was seven when we left."
     "It's probably weird being back here after all that time."
     "You have nooo idea. I have a memory attached to almost everything. They've been eating me alive all day."
     "Is it really that bad rememberin' a time you were happy?"
     "Hell yeah it is. They remind me of the relationship we once had. Then I look around and it's the biggest slap in the face knowing we won't have that again."
     "You think it's too late to rebuild the relationship?"
     "Way too late." I tap my nails against the can. "I'm not sure how I would start even if I wanted to."
      "Can I ask you somethin'?"
It takes a second to reply because I'm used to having conversations with people butting in as they please and cutting each other off. He actually asked if I want his opinion, instead of pushing unsolicited advice like any one else would.
I nod in approval, then hon in on his voice.
     "Why did you agree you and I will be able to get to know each other by the end of the summer, but you can't do the same with your dad?"
     "That's easy. We don't have the history he and I do. It's different getting to know someone for the first time, compared to someone you've known in the past."
     "That's fair. When I think about it though, you are gettin' to know him for the first time... in a way. You haven't known him for ten years. That's a lot of changin' for two people to do."
     "Yeah, but... it would still be weird. There's too much bad blood."
     "Sounds to me like there's a lot of reminiscin' you could be doin'. He really enjoy's talkin' about the life you don't seem to want to remember."
     I laugh with a nervous tone. "This is getting way too deep."
     His eyes soften. "Sorry. I just get curious is all."
     As much as I hate being vulnerable, he does put a different perspective on the situation. One I never considered. Maybe it's me who's holding myself back from what I really want? "It's okay." I steady my breath with a forced laugh. "What about you? Is your family as dysfunctional as mine?"
He pops open a bag of chips, making me do the same. My mouth waters from the long lost fake cheese taste. I haven't had Cheetos in forever.
"Not a whole lot to say. My mom and pop don't run a farm anymore. That's why I'm workin' here."
"Why do they make you work the whole summer? Seems kind of harsh."
"They don't make me, I want to help out. My family needs the money. Besides, Wren's not bad company and the work pushes me." Ali's friends made it sound like his dad forced him to work, but in reality, he's helping his family out in hard times. That's what I get for listening to a bunch of drama driven girls.
"That's nice of you to step up like that. Spend your summer working. But good deed or not, you sound like you actually enjoy this torture?"
"It can be therapeutic. The physical labor gets aggression out well."
"You must get aggravated a lot then." I slip the conversation out of the weird mood it got caught up in.
"I guess so." He takes off his hat to run his hand through his hair.
I grin at the blonde mess. "When's the last time you got a haircut?"
"Why?" He reaches up again. "Does it look bad?"
I'm giddy from the way he looks like this, so care free and goofy. "No, I like it."
"Yeah?" he smirks, knowingly. "Usually I grow it for the summer then shave it when I get back." Somehow I'm already attracted to Dawson with a shaved head. Imagining it drives me wild. Maybe he should shave it.
No. The long is too adorably sexy.
"Yeah," I obsess, "definitely keep it."
His dimples dent deeper than before. "Yes ma'am."
I hang on those words as they drip like honey from his mouth, but something he just said makes me curious. "Wait, you said 'when you go back', you're not staying at your parents?"
"No, they live too far for me to drive back and forth every day. Besides, the hours we work are crazy so it's better with me stayin' here. Your dad's got me up in a trailer by that big oak out there."
"Yikes, all you get is a trailer? At least I get a full room, although sleeping with the same bedspread as I did when I was a kid is really creeping me out."
"It's not that bad. I don't need much so it does fine. But... if it's so creepy why don't you get somethin' different?"
I roll my eyes, already annoyed by my answer. "As part of my punishment my mom isn't sending me money. They think I should work for it. Hence me working my ass off out here today."
"It'll get easier. By the way, that little get up you've got on? I like it almost as much as the bare feet."
My gaze lowers, catching onto his sudden flirtatious comment. "I thought of you when I put it on. You prepared me plenty last night."
"I can see the shit found it's way onto your boots," he laughs, "told ya."
"Yeah!" I say with disgust. "And just about everywhere else too."
"I did warn ya."
"You did." I laugh at his comments from last night.
"Hey, you gonna drink that?" He gestures to the Mountain Dew I set down a while ago.
"No, I don't drink soda anymore."
His eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. "What?! I don't believe you. Hand it here."
I reach as far as I can but my body hurts too bad. "You're going to have to come get it."
"Alright." He walks over and grabs the soda. Instead of going back to his spot on the other hay pile, he sits right down next to me. "Ya know, shit's not the only thing you've got on you." He reaches across, pulling something from my hair, presenting a loose hay needle.
I would be mortified but the shit thing trumps a hay needle. "Has that been in my hair this whole time?!"
"Just noticed it." He puts it in his mouth, swirling it around masterfully with his tongue. The movement makes me want to know what his mouth feels like on mine. That thought has me self conscious of what I look like compared to him. And now I have a sudden need to fix myself.
     Standing up, I yank my hair tie out, topple it over into a high ponytail and whip it up, grabbing the sides to pull it tight. Then I sit down next to him, closer this time.
"Wow." He blinks away diluted pupils. "That was somethin'."
I smile, and lean back against the hay.
He lays down next to me, propping one of his arms behind his head then pulling the hat over his eyes to shade them. I think this may be the most perfect image I've ever laid my eyes on.

•••

We wake up right as the sun is setting. Dazed and confused when we realize we fell asleep. I'm guessing Becky's voice calling us in the background is what woke us up.
Dawson stands, brushing the hay from his pants, then reaches his hand out. I take it, and he helps me up. The power behind his tug causes me to stumble forward, putting us right in front of each other.
"It was nice nappin' with you," his lazy smile lifts.
"I'm glad you had fun." I grin sheepishly. "Want to do it again tomorrow?"
"Absolutely. If you can get up on time."
"Yeahhh, I'm thinking about convincing Wren to let me sleep in. So I guess I'll see you for lunch?"
"Don't forget the sandwich's." He picks up our trash and condenses it into one bag. "Especially not the Mountain Dew."
"That's kind of sexist. Expecting the woman to make a man his sandwich."
He laughs. "I can't picture you bein' a woman tied down to the kitchen. You'll be out there callin' the shots, and the man will be in the kitchen makin' you the sandwich's."
"I like the sound of that,  but I don't need a man to make me food. However, I may be able to make an exception just this once and attempt for you."
He shakes his head, amused. "I guess you're sandwich skills will be put to the test tomorrow."
"If I'm being honest, I don't spend that much time cooking so... they might be the worst sandwich's you ever try."
"Just don't go too heavy on the Mayo. And I may or may not like extra cheese."
"Got it." I giggle lightheartedly. "Light Mayo and extra cheese. Shouldn't be too hard to screw up."
"There is a first for everything."
If only he knew.