The Farmer's Son

Chapter 13 The Outsiders

"Leaving already?" Judith asked.

Dressed in a light green flowy dress that was belted at the middle, with short flowy sleeves that showed remarkably toned arms, she smiled at him, deepening the lines around her mouth attractively. Her dark hair was open like a mane around her narrow face, with peeks of small gold earrings at her lobes and along the top ridge.

"Just keeping out of sight," Ray said, smiling back and flashing his own dimples.

"That makes two of us," she said.

He frowned and tilted his head inquiringly.

"You should know this town doesn't take kindly to outsiders," she added.

"I thought it was just cowboys."

"It is not. They don't want me in there anymore than they want you."

They heard the banging of a gavel from inside, and the Mayor's voice calling to order.

"Well," Ray said, sliding his hands into his jeans pocket. "While they're having their meeting, we can have one of our own. A meeting of the outsiders."

She laughed appreciatively at the reference, then lowered her voice and leaned in to say, "They'll think we're conspiring."

"And they would be right," Ray whispered back.

She laughed, a quiet chuckle that made her eyes shine. "I wouldn't object to a cup of tea."

"I was thinking something stronger."

"Now that," she said, with a raised brow, "I can arrange."

He held out his elbow, and after a moment of pleasant surprise, she took it. Folding slender hands with large rings into the crook of his arm, they walked away from the building, the hem of her dress brushing the tops of her tan sandals.

It was a bit of walk back to her store, but the night was cool, and they sat on the little blue porch in creaking rocking chairs, sipping chilled glasses of bourbon.

"This almost reminds me of nights on the ranch," Ray said, smiling into his glass. "Except we were behind the stables drinking whiskey that cut up your guts."

"I've done that," Judith said, her already mellow self even more so with the strong drink. When Ray looked at her with raised brows, she added, "I traveled around a lot when I was younger, too. My father was a military man."

"How did you end up here?" Ray asked. "If it's okay to ask."

"It's been so long since someone did," she said quietly. "I've almost forgotten the answer."

Ray looked up at the loneliness in the voice, and saw it reflected in the dark green eyes, as she mused over her glass, gently tipped the amber liquid back and forth. "I'd like to hear it," he said. "If the whiskey and bourbon haven't wiped away the memory."

She chuckled, then sighed, a melancholy breath. "I married quite young," she said, placing the glass on her palm and rocking gently in the chair, turning her gaze to the sky. "Right out of high school. It did not last—he spoke with his hands more than his mouth, and I got tired of listening. By twenty-three I was divorced, and moved back home. My father was stationed just a few counties over, and one day, on base, I met someone, a dashing young soldier, and fell in love. We spent all his free time together, but when the end of his enlistment came, he told me there was someone else. Someone he was going to marry back home."

"Bastard," Ray said casually, sipping his drink.

She smiled. "That's certainly what my parents thought. But he loved her more than he loved me, and he made his choice. But I couldn't let go. So, I followed him."