by A. J. Wynter
“I’ve got a tall favor to ask,” Floyd said, finally bringing his gaze to meet Russell’s.
“Anything,” Russell said, and he meant it.
“Well, you see. With Sydney comin’ to work here—she’s coming back day after tomorrow to start—well, I—”
“Out with it,” Russell interrupted, although he had a pretty good idea where Floyd was going.
“I can’t put her in the bunkhouse with Eddie and Carter, so...”
“So, you gave her this cabin,” Russell finished his sentence.
“Yeah,” Floyd muttered.
Russell exhaled and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. The cabin had been his for years. He hadn’t shared space with the other ranch hands since he was a bare-faced young man. He liked having his own space, and not having to listen to the sound of men sawing logs all through the night and dealing with their mess.
“I know I’m asking a lot,” Floyd continued, “but she’s only here for a few months, and then you can have it back.”
Russell knew that his cabin was the only place that the new girl could live, but it didn’t mean that he was happy about it. He imagined her lacy bras and perfumes cluttering up his simple space and struggled to quell the anger growing within him.
“As long as it’s only a few months,” Russell agreed, “and with Brody gone, the bunkhouse shouldn’t be too bad.” Brody known for his high decibel snoring and lackluster housekeeping.
“I’m sorry, Russ. And I really hope that you give this girl a chance,” Floyd said, pushing heavily on the armrests to slowly extract himself from the rocking chair.
“Floyd, I’ll give her my job, and my bunkhouse out of respect for you, but nobody tells me who to respect.”
Floyd smiled, “See you in the morning, Tiger.”
Russell smiled back. He had grown to love Floyd like his own father. The two of them understood each other, that’s why Floyd’s decisions as of late had been so baffling.
After Floyd left, Russell stepped out to the back of his bunkhouse and had a quick rinse off in the shower. He fell naked onto his bed and pulled up the blue floral sheet, thinking about his to-do list, angry that he had to add: move to the bachelor bunkhouse to it.
He decided that he would be polite to Sydney; that he would tolerate her. After all, he prided himself in being a gentleman. He had been called old-fashioned on more than one occasion, but damn it, he wasn’t going to go out of his way to help her, and he damn well wasn’t going to like her.
Chapter 13 – Sydney
Sydney sat at her designated seat at the formal dining table. Her dad at the head of the table, her mom at the foot, the staff lingered at the doorway. Sydney’s parents could’ve written the book on passive aggression. Actually, they could’ve written twenty books about it. The silence in the room was palpable, accented only by the sound of expensive silverware clicking against the bone china plates.
Sydney’s mom kept shooting her dad looks across the table. Syd knew them well. They were the, ‘are you going to say something?’ looks.
She knew that her decision to work at Blackgum for the summer instead of interning at the hospital wasn’t going to go over well. Her dad had laughed like he thought that she was kidding, and when he realized that she wasn’t, he had just said, “No.”
“Darling, that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” her mom said.
Then silence.
Sydney was fuming. She had always been a good daughter, worked hard, always done what they wanted. She hadn’t snuck out her window at night to meet a high school sweetheart, she hadn’t tried smoking cigarettes when all her friends did. All she had done was work hard, to be the daughter that they wanted.
She set down her knife and fork and took a sip of her sparkling water. “I’ve accepted the position, and I’d like to go,” she said quietly, dabbing at her lips with the crisp linen napkin.
“It’s ridiculous,” her father said.
“I know it’s ridiculous,” Sydney said. “I’ll never have another opportunity to be ridiculous again.”
“But dear,” her mom said, “a ranch? If you want to go and work with horses for the summer, I’m sure that the dressage school would take you in a heartbeat.”
“I’m twenty-one years old. Going to work at this ranch is no different than taking a gap year to Switzerland. I’ll still come back to my life. I’ll still go to medical school and be a doctor. Please, I want to do this.”
Sydney looked to her dad and saw his eyes soften. Between the two of them, he was the more rational one.
“Sweetheart, if this is something that you really want to do, we can’t stop you. I don’t agree with it, and I know that your mother doesn’t either, but as long it’s only for a few months, I don’t see what’s wrong with getting a little life experience under your belt.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Sydney said, standing up to peck her dad on the cheek.
Her dad smiled, “After all, your grades were impeccable this year, and I’ve heard through the rumor mill that the top three schools are all fighting for Sydney Strachan to be part of their program, including Brankstone.
Sydney’s mom didn’t say a word. She folded her napkin and set it on the table, excusing herself.
“Your mother will come around,” her dad whispered.
Syd couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After dinner, she packed her suitcase, realizing that her riding clothes were not going to be ranch appropriate, but she didn’t have time to go out and buy suitable clothes since her flight was bright and early. She figured she could find some clothes in Claystream.
She fell into her bed but had a hard time falling asleep as she was excited and very scared at the same time.
In the morning, she rolled out of bed, showered, and got dressed in her airport outfit. She had airport chic down to a science, her comfiest skinny jeans, button up shirt, and a silk scarf in case the plane got too cold. She topped it off with her favorite black fedora and white Keds.
Byron, the family’s driver, was waiting out front in the town car. Her dad met her at the front door and gave her a huge hug. “Good luck sweetheart. You can always come home, remember that,” he smiled and hugged her again.
“Thanks, Dad,” Syd’s eyes started to well up with tears, “Where’s Mom?”
“Oh, she isn’t feeling very good this morning,” her dad lied.
“Oh,” Sydney said, looking at her feet, trying to force the tears to go back into her eyes.
“Chin up, Buckaroo,” her dad said.
Sydney couldn’t help but smile. “Buckaroo?”
“Isn’t that what you’ll be saying there on the old ranch?” he joked. Sydney’s dad had never set foot on a ranch, and she couldn’t imagine that he ever actually met someone who worked on one.
“Ummm. I don’t think so, Dad. Maybe if it were still the 1950s,” Sydney laughed.
Her dad smiled wryly, “Don’t be surprised if they’re still stuck in the 1950s down there,” he muttered. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he added. “I researched your little ranch and it’s quite far from anything, so I bought you a little graduation present.”
Syd raised her eyebrows. Her dad was known for his extravagant gifts and she wondered what piece of platinum jewelry she would be adding to the collection she never wore.
“Now, I don’t have it with me,” her dad said. “But, I’ve arranged for a car to pick you up at the airport and take you to get it.”
“Oh, Dad, I don’t need anything,” Sydney said. Her mind was racing, wondering what the crazy gift could be.
“Actually, you do,” he said, then continued, “Now giddy up.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Sydney smiled and strode off to the town car, Bryon toting her heavy suitcases behind.
During her flight, she imagined what her days would look like at the ranch. She planned to get up and meditate in the early morning, maybe catch a yoga class, swim in the cute little lake at the back of the property, work with the horses,
and then enjoy a nice homecooked dinner at the ranch. She was looking forward to a simple life and wanted to catch up on some reading that wasn’t biology textbooks.
She really hoped that her dad hadn’t bought her another horse. That’s the last thing she needed, to show up at Blackgum with a quarter million-dollar thoroughbred.
The hot Texas air blasted her as she exited the airport and she pulled the scarf from her neck and shoved it into her handbag. The town car was waiting, and her heart hammered in her chest as it wound its way through the city. She planned to get the driver to park in Claystream where she could hire a regular taxi to take her out to the ranch. Showing up in the town car would look ostentatious and if Russell hated her now, he would loathe her if that happened.
To her surprise, the driver turned into a massive car dealership, and that’s when she saw it, she saw what would make Russell hate her more than anything. Her present.
Chapter 14 – Russell
Russell sat in the truck and rubbed his lower back. He had seniority on the other ranch hands and had pulled rank when the only open bunks were the top ones. He had booted Eddie to Brody’s old bunk but still had to listen to his snoring all night. The two of them had been in the whiskey again and the high decibel engine sounds tortured him the entire night. As soon as the sky started its transition from black to its rich pre-dawn blue, he got dressed and out of the cowboy frat house as soon as he could. He knew that he could get an hour of work in before those two rolled out of bed.
He had always been a morning person, just him and the animals, but even this morning, most of the ranch was still slumbering while he loaded up the pickup with materials. He started the truck and the exhaust system of the old diesel rumbled and rattled. He turned on the country station, adjusted his hat, and headed out to the field.
After an hour, Russell’s stomach started to growl. He wiped his brow and looked to the sun blazing low on the horizon, guessing the time somewhere around 7:30. He made his way through the bumpy field, the long grass scraping the undercarriage of the tall truck. Instead of heading straight to the main house for breakfast, he veered off down the gravel pathway and parked behind the bunkhouse. He cut the engine and looked for any signs of life from his hungover ranch hands, and when he didn’t see any, he smirked and started up the truck and grinned as it roared to life. He gunned the engine three times, black diesel exhaust belching out, the growly roar of the truck shaking the single pane windows of the bunkhouse.
He saw the plaid curtain pull back and Eddie flipped him the middle finger.
Pales in comparison to their snoring, Russ chuckled to himself and peeled out in a cloud of gravel and stones to get himself some chow and coffee. As he pulled up to the main house, he saw a brand-spankin' new three-quarter ton Chevy. The fancy chrome version, with leather seats and a sunroof. A real city boy truck.
He clomped into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of Mary’s thick coffee. He grabbed the sugar, one of those diner-style sugar containers with the little metal flap and heard the saloon-style doors clap open. He turned, expecting Floyd, but instead, it was her.
She was wearing black leggings and the same fancy riding boots. “Surprised you don’t have your black dress coat on this morning,” he smirked.
She stepped into the kitchen, letting the doors flap behind her, “Like a little coffee with that sugar?” she quipped.
Russell looked down, realizing that he had been free-pouring sugar and his coffee was just about to breach the top of his mug. “Fuck,” he muttered loudly and took a swig from his mug, drops of coffee landing on the pine table.
Mary had followed Sydney into the kitchen and grabbed a hand knit cloth from the kitchen sink and tossed it to Russell. He wiped up the coffee and was tempted to dump the rest of his sugar coffee concoction down the drain, but he didn’t want to give Sydney the satisfaction.
Mary opened up various kitchen cupboards and gave Sydney a quick tour of the kitchen, “I’ll have breakfast ready at 7 a.m., but I don’t serve anyone, but I put it all away by 8. You serve and clean up after yourself.”
“Ok,” Sydney responded.
Mary lifted the lids of the pans and gave the scrambled eggs a quick stir. “Help yourself to some breakfast and then I’ll show you where to park your little truck.” Mary cut her eyes at Russell, and he knew that he had an ally in the grumpy kitchen lady. Mary had grown up in Claystream where any outsider, especially a beautiful young one, is met with suspicion.
Sydney poured a cup of coffee and opened up the refrigerator. She stood and looked like she wanted to ask Mary a question and then decided against it. She shut the refrigerator door without taking anything out of it.
“Looking for the soy latte almond tree milk?” Russell said and smiled to himself when he heard Mary chuckle under her breath as well.
“Regular milk is just fine,” Sydney replied, opening the fridge again and removing a glass jar of unpasteurized milk from the fridge. Russ had been raised on untreated milk and was used to the barnyard smell. He couldn’t wait to see Sydney’s reaction when she caught a whiff of it. He watched her closely as she poured a little bit into her coffee, but if she had any visceral reaction she held it in well. She scooped some scrambled eggs onto her plate and to his surprise heaped both bacon and sausage onto the plate as well.
“If you need toast, the bread is in the box,” Russell said, pointing to the old bread box on the counter. He watched Sydney hesitate and then unwrap the bread and pop a couple of slices into the toaster. She set her plate at the end of the eight-foot-long table, the opposite end to where Russell was seated. She stepped over the bench seat and took a sip of her coffee. It was slight, but Russ caught the wrinkle in her nose and smiled to himself. He slid the butter dish down the table.
“Thank you,” Sydney said and scraped the butter onto her toast.
“Welcome,” Russ said and slurped his coffee. He didn’t say anything further to Sydney but kept glancing at her as she ate her breakfast. She ate slowly and properly, a paper towel draped across her lap like she was at a fancy restaurant. Her blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail that almost reached her lower back. Her hands were small and delicate looking, and Russell couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the sheen of the pearlescent polish on her nails. He shook his head. Someone with nail polish was going to be breaking the ‘stangs. He couldn’t believe it. Her skin was radiant, and he could smell her scent from the other end of the table. It was nothing overpowering like the townie girls and their stripper girl perfume. Hers was hard for him to place, almost like the grass after a thorough rainfall – fresh smelling. He wished that she wasn’t there to take his job, that she was just some girl at a bar who he could win over with a few wisecracks and then bring home to his cabin. But that’s not who she was. No, she was his replacement, and he wouldn’t be able to drop her off in the morning and never see her again. He’d have to see those gorgeous green eyes every goddamned day.
The silence between the two of them was unbearable, and Russell knew that the proper thing to do would be to engage in some polite conversation, make her feel comfortable, but hell, she wasn’t doing it, so neither was he.
The silence was so thick he could’ve taken one of the steak knives from the drawer and cut the air in half.
Their silent standoff was interrupted when Eddie and Carter burst into the kitchen.
“Good morning, you fucking asshole,” Eddie yelled as he burst into the kitchen.
Sydney looked up, her face blanching.
“Oh, um. Shit, sorry,” Eddie muttered as he saw Sydney seated at the table. “I’m Eddie,” he grinned and held out his hand. Sydney stood and shook it, “I’m Sydney.”
Carter practically fell over Eddie trying to shake Sydney’s hand, “I’m Carter,” he said, thrusting his arm around his friend, pushing him aside.
“Sydney,” she said again, smiling.
“Well, Floyd told us you were coming, but he didn’t quite fill us in on all the details,” Ed
die said, his face flushing red.
“You mean, the detail that I’m a woman?” Sydney leaned back from the table and placed her ‘napkin’ on her plate.
“Let me get that for you,” Carter said, reaching for Sydney’s plate.
“No, I’ve got it,” Eddie said.
Sydney grabbed her plate and pulled it toward her. “Thank you, but I’ve got it.” She smiled at both of them.
Eddie grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup of coffee, “Yeah, like the fact that you’re a woman. I’ve never met a girl Sydney before.” He smiled his dazzling white smile at her.
“Well, now you have,” Sydney said. She stood and scraped her plate into the garbage, rinsed it off, and placed it in the dishwasher.
“Are there any travel mugs?” she asked Carter.
Carter seemed awestruck, and appeared to be lost for words, “Travel mug?”
“You know, something I can pour my coffee into to keep it warm and so it won’t spill?” Sydney said patiently.
“There are Thermoses in the top of the cupboard over there,” Russ said, pointing with his fork. He cleaned up his breakfast, and as he loaded the dishwasher he noticed Sydney straining to reach the top shelf. The ceilings were at least ten feet tall and whoever had designed the kitchen maximized the storage space by extending the cabinets high to the ceiling. Sydney was a tall girl, but her fingertips kept brushing the side of the Thermos.
Russ sighed and sauntered over to her. Even though they weren’t touching he could feel her presence, her scent a wave of warmth passing from her to him. He reached up and grabbed the Thermos and handed it to her. When their fingertips touched, it felt like she had shocked him. He jerked his hand away from her and the Thermos clattered to the floor.
“My apologies, Miss,” Russell said, flustered. He bent down and picked up the Thermos. “Let me fill that up for you,” he said.
Sydney reached out and gently took the Thermos from Russ’s hand. “You know what, I think that I’ll fill this myself.”