by Gina Calanni
Brandon grabs my hand and places a few more slices in my hand. I peer up from my palm and our eyes lock.
“Thank you.”
Brandon’s grin responds without a word. He inspects Rebel. “Don’t worry, buddy, I wouldn’t leave you out, just to impress a pretty girl.” He opens his hand and Rebel scarfs up three slices like it’s nothing.
“We should head back. I made us reservations for dinner.”
“Dinner?” I contemplate my outfit, which Brandon did request, but jeans? This does not say dinner-reservation outfit. Even I know that.
“Yes, unless you have other plans?” Brandon raises an eyebrow at me.
“No, I don’t… but I don’t think I’m dressed for a place with dinner reservations.” I sway my hands over my body.
Brandon catches my hand in his own and reels me into his body. “You look great… we’ll save your pretty dress for next time.”
I crinkle my eyebrows. My pretty dress? What does he think, I only own one? But then again, he did say next time. Oh lordy… I’m getting in over my head.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll see how things go.” I let out a little laugh. Brandon might need some taming of his own.
“Sure… you ready?” Brandon nods toward Goldie.
“Yes.” I put my foot in the stirrup and Brandon helps lift my leg over and I settle into the saddle.
Brandon hops onto Rebel and kicks his heels and leads us back toward the forest. Rows of trees are scattered about wild and free. No exact order. These weren’t planted by a farmer; they were spread through the wind and pollination and pure nature. I’m experiencing pure nature when Brandon’s breath is so close to my own. I want to succumb to my every desire but I’m nervous. I don’t know him and I’m afraid. He seems too good to be true. I’m not a fool. I know I’ve got daddy issues – that is obvious. I haven’t ever really had much to do with boyfriends – a few dates here and there but nothing serious. I wanted something more for myself. Nobody in Mexia was going to provide any type of life that I wanted. I wanted out. Out of small-town nothing. I don’t want to scrape by. I want to have enough of a bank account to take a vacation when I have time off of work. Not just catch up on my laundry. I want something from my life. I get the feeling Brandon does, too, but are our wants the same? Am I just a girl in his training class, to help him pass the time until he moves up the ranks and becomes an executive?
We trot through the last of the trees and into the meadow, and I see that the fields are filled with blue and white. It’s like an ocean of flowers. He must have taken a different path back. I was too absorbed in my thoughts to take notice. Heck, the trees looked the same. A forest is a forest, right?
Brandon slows down the horses and hops off of Rebel. He scoops up a bucket-load of the flowers and hands them to me.
“Picking bluebonnets is illegal.” I raise up my shoulders. I appreciate the gesture, but the Texas State Patrol can be downright ornery, especially about the state flower.
Brandon laughs. “That’s just a silly old wives’ tale.” He opens up my hand and lays the bouquet of bluebonnets in my palm. I’ve never even held a bluebonnet before. I’m not sure if he’s right, but I was brought up with the fear that picking a bluebonnet would land you in the slammer. Bluebonnets are the Texas state flower and I wouldn’t want to be caught picking them, let alone having them in my hands.
“Are you sure?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, Sahara… besides, I’d take the fall and risk the prison time for you.” He hops back up on Rebel’s back. And taps on Rebel’s sides.
“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, except it would only seem right as you are the one who picked them.” I bat my eyelashes at him.
Brandon nods. “True, but I’m sure your pretty little golden locks have heard of aiding and abetting?” Brandon winks at me.
“Of course I have, but I’m not aiding you. You picked the flowers and placed them in my hand.” I glance down at my right hand still clutching the bluebonnets. I could have dropped them if I was really worried. Which I’m not really, but I wouldn’t want to drop them under any circumstances as they are so pretty.
“Save it for the jury.” Brandon taps on Rebel and our pace picks up. The stable is in sight and as we get closer I’m a bit sad. Goldie and I have bonded and I’m hoping this isn’t the last time I see her. I want to visit her again. I wonder if Brandon’s family friend would mind if I brought her some apples?
“Oh, I will. I’ll be ready with my notes and exhibit A.” I wave the bluebonnets in the air.
Brandon laughs and hops off of Rebel. He offers his hand for me to dismount and catches me mid-fall. I can’t say I’m the most graceful at hopping off a horse. Again, something else I might want to practice at home in case the opportunity presents itself again. I probably can practice on my bed or something.
We stroll into the stable and Brandon takes the saddles off of each horse and stores them away. I offer a few words to Goldie in private. I think she understood; her eyes are a deep and pensive brown. I’m sure she wants me to visit again. I’ll have to see if I can make that happen.
Chapter Seven
Click. I buckle my seat belt and peer over at Brandon. He revs the engine and we pull out onto the highway. We aren’t but twenty yards down the road when the sound of a police siren comes blaring through the cab of the truck.
“Crap, what does this guy want?” Brandon is staring in his rearview window.
I turn around and see flashing blue lights behind us. I eye the bluebonnets on the seat and without thinking I pop open the door and toss them onto the road. Brandon pulls the truck over to the side of the road. A Texas state trooper gets out of his car and starts walking toward the truck. I take a deep breath. I hope this isn’t about the flowers. I should have been sterner about not taking them. It was like they were some sort of magical flowers in my hand and I didn’t want to leave them. I wanted them. Shoot, and now we’re probably going to get arrested, or at the very least get a citation. Neither of which I need.
“Son, license and registration, please. Is this vehicle stolen?” The officer taps on the top of the window.
“No, sir. I own this truck.” Brandon leans over me and pops open the glove compartment and pulls out some papers. He digs into his pocket and finds his driver’s license and hands the papers along with his card to the officer.
The officer jerks his head back as if he is disappointed to find out Brandon is the owner of the truck and heads back to his vehicle.
“Do you think this is about the flowers?” I stare at Brandon, trying to read him and figure out what he’s thinking. He doesn’t seem worried in the least.
“What? The flowers? What are you talking about, Sahara?” Brandon cocks his head to the right.
“The bluebonnets.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I tossed them out the window. He can’t prove anything.”
Brandon takes in a deep breath and bites his knuckle. “Shoot… let me handle this.” Brandon gets out of the vehicle and walks back to the officer.
They talk for longer than can possibly be about bluebonnet picking. I twiddle my thumbs trying to decide if I would call Ms. Myra as my one phone call or my mama. Unfortunately, I think I would call Ms. Myra as she would most likely pick up and she also is closer to bail me out of jail.
The police officer opens my car door.
“Hey there. Listen, your boyfriend here says you tossed some of the Texas state flowers out the window?” He squints at me.
I eye the ground. Did Brandon seriously rat me out? What kind of guy is he? Definitely not the kind of guy I will ever spend any time with again.
“Yes, sir.” I swallow.
“What’s your name? Sahara was it?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, sir, my name is Sahara Smith.” I suppose I’m about to be read my rights.
“Sahara, do you know what the Texas state motto is?”
“Yes, sir.” I roll my lips together and he nods at me. “
Don’t mess with Texas.”
“That’s right. Don’t mess with Texas. Now do you know what that means?”
I swallow hard, but the lump in the back of my throat is not going down. “Yes, sir, it means don’t litter.”
The officer nods and claps his hands against his thighs. “Exactly. Now, clear something up for me, darling. Did you pick the state flower and then toss it out the window?”
My eyes burn. I’m not going to cry. I try to get my breathing straight. I can’t believe this. I’m going to be charged for picking the state flower and littering.
I stare at the ground and my internal thoughts of doom and gloom are broken up by laughter. I glance back up and both the officer and Brandon are cracking up.
“What, why are you laughing?”
“Sahara, come on, did you really think you were getting in trouble for tossing flowers out the window? They’re biodegradable.” Brandon laughs.
The officer’s smile is fading and he shakes his head. “Brandon, that might not have been a good first-date move.” He taps him on the shoulder. “Sahara, I’m sorry if I upset you. Hey listen, if you ever get pulled over for speeding just tell the officer that Bucky is a friend and they’ll let you go.” He tips his hat and returns to his vehicle.
I’m madder than a bee that’s fallen from its hive and splattered on the ground. I hop out of the truck. I’m so angry I could walk the rest of the way back to Ms. Myra’s house. I do not want to spend any more time with Brandon and his jokes. I flip my hair over my shoulder and begin marching in the direction we were headed.
Brandon cuts in front of me and I move to the right to go around him. He grabs my arms.
“Sahara, I’m sorry. I thought you would laugh.”
“Well, I guess you thought wrong. Now excuse me.” I push past him and he grabs my arms again.
“I told you it wasn’t illegal to pick bluebonnets.”
“Well, excuse me for not believing you. You don’t exactly sendoff vibes of trust and sincerity, do you?” I roll my lips together and move around to the left of him.
“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” Brandon jerks his head back.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you go figure it out, Mr. Biodegradable researcher?”
Brandon laughs. “Come on, Sahara, let’s go have dinner and I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”
I stop marching. “Anything I want?”
“I’ll do anything to get you out of your fiery little mood and join me for dinner.” I press my lips together. I’m not in a fiery mood. I kick the ground. I suppose I am… but I’m going to get Brandon back.
“All right, tomorrow show up at my place at noon… and block out the rest of your day.”
“A whole day blocked out for you. Done. Now, let’s get back to the truck, I’m hungry.” Brandon wraps his arms around me and breathes the last word into my ear. I can’t help but sizzle. This man is driving me wild. I take in a deep breath.
Brandon opens the door and I hop up into the cab. I’m going to make him pay tomorrow for the cop scene today, but for now I will let it go. I don’t want to be a grumpy grump.
We pull up to a fancy restaurant. I haven’t really done much exploring since I arrived in the area less than a month ago, but I definitely haven’t seen this place. The outside is decorated like one of those old carriage houses with flickering gas-light sconces and a sign reads: Cherrywood Manor. Huh, manor. That does seem fancy and I’m not dressed in fancy clothes. I peer over at Brandon.
“Are we eating here?”
Brandon laughs. “Don’t seem so excited about it. Do you not like this place?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“No, I’ve never been here, but it seems kind of… like, um, maybe I’m not dressed right?” I squint my eyes together.
“Sahara, you’re going to need to work on your trust issues… I wouldn’t take you some place where you would feel uncomfortable.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I promise.”
I press my lips together. I appreciate his promise, but I most certainly do not need to work on my trust issues. What would he know about my trust issues and whether I have any or not? I hop out of the truck and Brandon offers his arm to me.
Our elbows link like they were two jigsaw puzzle pieces snapping together. We stroll to the entrance of Cherrywood Manor. Wait till my mama hears I dined at Cherrywood Manor. I’m sure she’ll be real impressed.
Brandon opens the door and nods at the hostess like he knows her or something.
“Hi, Nicki. How are you doing?”
“Good, Brandon. It’s nice to see you again.” She cuts her eyes toward me and gives a smile more fake than I think I’ve seen in the local beauty pageants where the award is a year’s supply of paper towels. Those girls want to win just to win, but they could care less about the paper towels. Unless it helps wipe off some of that fake tan spray. Ha!
“I’ve got your table set up, right this way.”
Hmm, his table set up? Did Brandon call ahead or something? Am I being set up with a situation that is too good to be true? I swallow hard. Even though he promised I wouldn’t be out of my element and all that good stuff, the tugging sensation of insecurity makes me want to drop his arm and mad dash out of here.
We saunter through the restaurant; it is full of custom-made wood tables that have been varnished into a smooth warm glow. I know they are custom because they are all different, obviously made from redwood trees or something because they are huge. Nicki leads us out through the restaurant and onto a deck filled with tables and people. All eyes are on us as we parade to the two top tables in the back. A mason jar filled with sand and a candle is lit on the table.
“Here you go, enjoy.” Nicki smiles at Brandon as if he is about to dine by himself and exits our table.
Brandon pulls back a chair for me to sit down. I ease myself into the chair and he scoots me in. This is a first for me. I can’t remember my mama ever pushing in my chair for me.
I open up my menu and scan over the food. All of a sudden I’m hungry. I guess the one and a half slices of apple didn’t cut it for my stomach.
“What are you going to get?” I press my lips together.
“A little bit of everything.” Brandon winks at me. “Do you want to share an appetizer extravaganza?”
“What is that?”
“We order all the appetizers instead of a meal.” Brandon laughs.
“I’m hungry but that seems like a lot of food.”
“It is, but it’s worth it.” Brandon nods at a waiter making his way to our table.
“Hey, Carl, we want to order the Appetizer Extravaganza and I’ll get a Shiner Bock.”
“Sounds great. And for you?” Carl glances at me with his pen in hand.
“I’ll be sharing with Brandon.” I grin.
“Right, and to drink?”
“Oh, uh, I guess I’ll have some sangria.” I’ve had sangria before; it’s pretty fruity. “Thank you.”
Carl nods and exits our table space area. I tap my fingers in my lap.
“You come here often?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of my question.
Brandon grins at me. “I’ve been here before… but this is the first time with someone like you.”
I squint my eyes. I hope this is supposed to a compliment, but then again what if it’s not? Maybe Brandon is used to bringing fancier girls. I’m not exactly an A-lister. I’m getting the idea that maybe his club is also about dating within one’s own social level and it wouldn’t take much for anyone to see that Brandon and I are not on the same level. So why is he with me? I’m about as lost in thought trying to focus on the why’s and how’s as a first-grade teacher being asked about the birds and the bees. Too many reasons to not say anything at all.
I nod and unroll my fork from my napkin and place it on the table. I hope that’s okay to do. I can’t remember what I read about the proper placement of forks on the table in one of Ms. Myra’s Miss Manners books. There is a b
ookshelf in my room filled with all sorts of guides about life. They are all older than my mom’s pot holders. I think those are the only family heirloom I’ll be receiving.
Brandon reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Hey, are you okay? You’re not still upset about the cop thing, are you?” He cocks his head to the right.
I press my lips into two straight lines and my eyes meet his. My mouth can’t help but smile as his dreamy blues are enough to soften any residual anger on my part. But I’ll be getting him back tomorrow. I doubt he has ever been a painter.
“No, as long as you show up tomorrow, I won’t be upset.”
Brandon laughs. “You’re a real spitfire. I wouldn’t miss it. Whatever you’ve got planned under those pretty gold locks…” He kisses my hand. “I’ll be there.”
Carl interrupts our moment of me melting like an ice-cream cone in August and delivers our drinks.
“You want all the appetizers together?”
“Thanks, Carl, the usual, please.”
Carl exits and Brandon’s eyes are on me.
“So, what made you decide to come to Riverton?”
“Mexia is small and I wanted out. I’ve been taking courses from Eagle Online and they placed me with a job after I graduated.” I look up at him to see his reaction to my mentioning Eagle Online. I hate that the achievement that once made me so proud now has me tied up in knots. I had managed to put it from my mind; of course, that’s not difficult when faced with Brandon’s dreamy blues.
“Here is your first order of Cowboy Nachos.” Carl places a plate of overflowing chips covered in queso, chili and jalapenos on the table and puts a white plate in front of each of us.
Brandon scoops up a few of the nachos and places them on his plate.
Carl returns with a big bowl of queso accompanied by chips and salsa.
“Extra jalapenos, please,” Brandon says and takes a bite of one of the nachos.
This is not exactly prim, proper food. I can imagine Miss Manners shaking her head at this type of meal. Not very ladylike…. I toss that idea and take a bite of the nachos.