Just Ales

Chapter 2 (Just Ales)

I woke up the next morning to gray clouds and the promise of rain. Blinking my eyes at my surroundings, I rose slowly from where I’d been sleeping on the floor. I quickly got dressed in one of my only clean pairs of breeches, and pulled on my well-worn riding boots. The shirt I chose only had a small hole in it, and it was in the back, so I deemed it suitable to wear. A rueful smile passed through my lips. Back in the day, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a holey shirt. I wasn’t a clothes snob like some of my friends, but I valued appearances, and made sure I always looked presentable. I snorted at the thought, and brushed some dried mud off of my boots.

I wonder if my friends remembered me? That was a silly question- of course they did. My name was gold in this town- to everybody except my family. My story was legend- except for my family, who tried to cover up what had happened.

When I realized that I would have to come back here, the last thing I wanted to do was be recognized. That was why my famous yellow hair was now a medium brown, and my green eyes were also brown. I’d spent the last of my money on this disguise, and so far it had worked. Nobody seemed to know me as I rode the bus into town, and the people I had recognized did not cross the street to talk to me. That was exactly how I wanted it. New look, new me, I thought as I hid my bag in one of the cabinets.

I wandered into the kitchen, pleased to find it still stocked with food. Food that was no doubt years old, but Cinnamon Toast Crunch doesn’t really have an expiring date.

After breakfast, when I was sure nobody was home, I snuck out of the estate, and headed purposefully towards my old stable.

The entire time I was walking, I debated with myself.

It will just make you more upset to see everything again. No it won’t. I’ll just ignore it! Somebody will remember you, and let your cover slip. I’ll make sure it won’t come out…. I’ll make up a name!

I knew my excuses were weak, but I really had to see my old stable. Nothing had been the same since…..

My thoughts veered away from that red-flagged topic, and focused on walking. Besides, I needed the money, and this was the only place I knew that constantly needed more workers.

I wondered why the sidewalks were mostly empty, and then remembered that most kids were still in school. Good, that meant I had less chances of seeing a familiar face.

A red truck pulled up besides me, and an unfamiliar guy leaned out the window. “Hey,” he called towards me. I ignored him. “Hey, you!” he tried again. I kept walking.  “Going to Foxglove?” he asked, which stopped me in my tracks. I turned slowly, suspicion weighing down my movements.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I’m heading there too, and since it’s still a long way away, I figured you could use a lift.”

I moved closer to the window, and checked out his truck.

“Looking for a gun?” he asked, and smiled. I was distracted by his dimples for a moment. They weren’t circular dimples, more like lines, but they were very cute. Cute? What am I talking about? For all I know he’s a maniac trying to kidnap me.

“Maybe,” I cleverly replied, mentally hitting myself. I caught side of white saddle pads strewn across the backseat, the deep green letters spelling out Foxglove embroidered on them.

He saw what I was looking at, and his smile widened, and those dimples deepened. “I’m telling the truth,” he said. “I just wanted to save you the long walk.”

I nodded, and opened the driver’s door. “Get out,” I said, and he complied, with a confused look on his face. I plucked the keys from his hand, and motioned him to get in on the passengers side.

Comprehension dawned on his face, and he chuckled. “You can trust me,” he said, but did as I asked. “I wasn’t going to take you to my house and lock you up. But I have to admit not many ladies would force a man out of his own car.”

I smiled at that. “Just checking. But I’m still going to drive. You know, just to be safe.”

He smirked, but buckled his seat belt while I started the car.

“What’s your name?” he asked, twisting in his seat to face me. My name? I couldn’t very well answer Alessandra Heartwood, that was for sure.

“Um…Mollie.” I said. “Mollie Andrews.”

He nodded. “I’m Jack Heigman. I work as a manager at Foxglove Farms. Why are you headed there?”

Manager? He sure hadn’t been around two years ago.

“I’m looking for a job there,” I admitted, keeping my eyes glued to the road. His voice took on a professional tone.

“Really? Do you have any experience in working with horses?” he asked, his voice holding a challenge. He sounded condescending. If only he knew who I really was.

“Yes, actually, I’ve been around horses all my life!” I snapped.

Jack smirked. He seemed to find my temper amusing, which riled me up more.

“Do you ride?” was his next question. That one stopped my anger right in its tracks, and I clenched the steering wheel hard.

“Not anymore,” I whispered, hearing tears threatening to take over my voice, and hating myself for it.

“Why not?” Jack asked.

“Oh, you know… I got bored of it,” I lied, managing a shaky laugh.

“But you’re going to a barn now,” Jack commented. I could feel his intense gaze, and realized that the car really felt very too hot for me at the moment.

“When did you become manager?” I asked, surprising him with my question.

“About two years ago,” Jack replied. So he had started his life at the farm when I’d left mine.

I nodded, and turned onto the road where Foxglove Farms was located.

Jack looked surprised. “How’d you know the way here?” he asked, and I realized I’d made a mistake.

“Uh, I used to ride here when I was younger,” I said. “Kiddie lessons once a week, you know the deal.” Riding all day, every day. More newspaper articles, magazine covers, trophies, and championship ribbons than any other junior rider in the country I added mentally.

However, he seemed to accept my explanation, and was silent until we pulled up in front of the barn. I turned off the engine, and looked him in the eyes for the first time.  He looked at me like he was trying to figure me out. Good luck, I silently wished him, and his navy blue eyes held a sparkle that made me almost forget who I was.

Dropping his keys in his hand, I said, “Thanks for the ride,” and got out.

I was just here for the money, I reminded myself. I didn’t need, or want a boyfriend. That was the last thing on my agenda at the moment.