He Found Me

by Whitney Barbetti

  I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from my island sink. Taking my glass to the window, I steadily drank the water as I looked out. The big house had one room lit up in changing shades of blue and yellow. I knew the room was Rosa and Clint’s, and knew that the light from the television meant Clint couldn’t sleep. I needed to remind Oscar, the dinner cook, to serve him decaf coffee.

  I angled my gaze to the right as I finished the water, seeing Julian’s cabin lit up like a Christmas tree. Did he ever sleep? I looked at all the other cabins I could see from my window, tapping my now-folded knife on the countertop.

  I wiped my brow free of sweat and refilled my glass again before turning off all the lights and heading back to my bedroom, locking the door once again. I slid the knife back under my mattress and smoothed down my sheets. As I reached to set my glass down on my nightstand, my phone vibrated across the surface, startling me. I fumbled putting the glass on the table and spilled water across the surface of the nightstand. I huffed out a breath in annoyance before pulling the long sleeve of my pajama shirt down to soak up the water.

  I grabbed the phone and slid back into bed. I restarted the movie I’d fallen asleep to before unlocking my phone to view the text message. The number was local, but not in my contacts list.

  Good morning, Andra. –J.J.

  I smiled to myself before gliding my fingers across the on-screen keyboard.

  Me: You’re a little early, Julian.

  Cool wetness seeped onto my arm from my sleeve and I knew I would have trouble sleeping with a wet shirt. I rolled up the sleeve and a minute later my phone vibrated in my hand.

  Julian: I saw your lights were on. And, as I’ve told you before, I hate to keep a lady waiting.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes, typing my reply.

  Me: I wasn’t exactly waiting with bated breath for you to wish me a good morning.

  A moment after pressing “send,” a thought occurred to me and I quickly typed it out.

  Me: By the way, how did you get my number?

  Julian: Well, you won’t be seeing me on Sunday, and I didn’t want you to feel forlorn when I didn’t come find you in person to wish you good morning.

  A minute later, his reply to my latest text came.

  Julian: Rosa likes me. ;)

  A winky face! I tried not to wonder why he wouldn’t see me tomorrow, but curiosity got the best of me.

  Me: Checking out so soon? And I was just beginning to like you, too. Darn.

  Julian: No, unfortunately you are stuck with me for the full month. And I have a meeting in Denver tomorrow morning, sister obligations, and then I’m meeting the tile guys at my home tomorrow evening.

  I tried to not let myself feel the twinge of disappointment. It was too soon to get attached to him. I barely knew him. But I enjoyed spending time with him; our verbal sparring, and the physical connection between us was…intense.

  Me: Sounds like a busy day. Better get some beauty sleep!

  I knew my reply sounded cold, impersonal. But it was a mask, guarding me from getting too close.

  Julian: I know it’s late, but can I call you?

  I hesitated, fingers stilling on the keyboard. After a moment, I worked up the nerve and dialed him myself, not wanting to waste time, and desperately wondering what he wanted to say.

  “Andra,” he breathed on the other end when the call connected. His voice was gruff from the late hour, and the timbre of it made me bite my lip.

  “Julian,” I answered, a little breathlessly. Damn it.

  “Is it too soon to ask you on a second date?” Wow, he got right to the point. My lips curved and I settled more into my pillows.

  “Probably. But I don’t care. Sure. When?”

  I heard the whoosh of air on the other line. “Tuesday. Rosa said you had that day off.”

  I rolled my eyes all the way to the ceiling. “Of course she did. What other information did you glean from Rosa?”

  His chuckle was muffled by the sounds of paper being rustled in the background. “That you have to be back by Wednesday morning.”

  I sat up straight in my bed. “Are we talking about an overnight date?”

  “No. Well, actually, yes. But not what you’re probably imagining.”

  “It’s an overnight date. A sleepover!” I said excitedly.

  Julian’s laugh was loud and quick. “A sleepover? Are we in middle school?”

  “A sleepover!” I laughed.

  “Look,” Julian said after he finished laughing, “I know what it sounds like. But it’s not what you’re thinking. Our date tonight wasn’t what you would have preferred, but you were a good sport. Date two is going to be more up your alley, and requires an overnight.”

  I searched my brain for even just an inkling of what kind of date I’d prefer that would require an overnight. However, besides the obvious – let’s just say it: sex – I couldn’t think of anything. This would be interesting.

  “Okay, what do I bring?” I asked.

  “I’ll see you sometime Monday and will tell you then. Be prepared to leave really early Tuesday morning.”

  I smirked. “I’m always prepared.”

  “Why do I feel like that requires a winky smiley face?” he asked. I could feel his smile through the phone and I cradled the phone closer, snuggling back into my pillows.

  “Julian,” I started, picking at a loose thread in my duvet, “I don’t want to lead you on. Dinner was fun, in more ways than one. I don’t really do the relationship thing. I had a great time with you, but I don’t want you expecting anything more than I am willing to give you.”

  Julian was quiet for a moment and I felt the nervousness claw up my throat, urging me to back out on date two, back out completely of whatever it was I was doing with Julian.

  “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what we want, Andra. We don’t need to define this. You are warm, honest, beautiful, and full of wit. I appreciate how vibrant you are, and how you challenge me. I want to spend time with you simply because I enjoy being around you.” I heard his sigh. “I don’t want to suffocate you. No labels, no drama. Just fun. Maybe a kiss or two.”

  “Or three. Or four,” I added.

  “Or forty. Or more,” he continued.

  I laughed again. He was right. We could keep it fun, spend some time enjoying the summer before he moved on. It would be an experiment for me, but one I was willing to test.

  “Okay, you have yourself a date.”

  “Can’t wait. Get some sleep. I’ll see you at some point on Monday.”

  “Good night, Julian.”

  “Good night, Andra.”

  I hung up the phone, smiling to myself, and snuggled under the duvet, setting the sleep timer on my television. Minutes later, I was asleep.

  I stood on the edge, right where the grass died off into pine needles and dirt. It was cool enough that patches of light fog covered small sections of the forest floor sporadically, looking like puffy white blankets. I could see clearly for only about 50 feet before the thick of tree trunks and bush masked what lie ahead.

  Of course, I ran these woods hundreds of times. I knew that in approximately two-point-six miles, I would come into a small meadow, filled with overgrown grass and dandelions. And another mile east of that meadow were well-traveled trails that descended into a valley and looped back to the ranch’s horse arena. I didn’t run those trails, preferring dirt and pine needles to horse shit and dust. I was also less likely to run into anyone this way.

  I didn’t run to a playlist. These woods, while beautiful and serene, were home to some of the more dangerous four-legged creatures. It was better to let the sounds of my surroundings safeguard me. Instinctively, I reached to the band on my left wrist and fingered the pepper spray and kubotan that hung there. While I knew my way around a gun, I didn’t trust that I could use one in a panicked situation. Plus, it made running more cumbersome.

  I stretched my legs and arms, still at the edge of the
forest. I wore compression tights under my gym shorts, as much to keep my muscles warm as to protect my legs from being beaten by the brutal brush. It was just after six in the morning, which was a perfect time for me to hit the woods. The woods were calmer in the mornings, the morning birds still rousing, and the aforementioned dangerous animals still sleeping. Rosa was cleaning up after feeding the ranch hands, who in turn were starting the morning chores. I liked leaving the noisy ranch for the quiet loneliness of the woods.

  I took off in a jog to further warm up my muscles. I’d learned a lot since I first started running into the woods. The first few times I ventured in on my own, I’d started off too fast and ended up pulling muscles, rendering me helpless, scared, and miles away from the ranch. I never wanted to be helpless or scared again, and feeling those things brought my time with the Monster back in stunning and crippling clarity.

  I didn’t let my thoughts venture to him often, but he was always there in the back of my mind, taunting me with his memory. Whenever I started to visualize him, I quickly named off the colors in my sight until I could focus on something else.

  “Green,” I whispered. It was the most ubiquitous color in the woods, sure, but it would suffice. “Brown,” I said, louder as I narrowed my eyes on the dirt ahead, pounding relentlessly through the pine needles. “Blue.” I looked up, only for a moment, at the sky. The morning sky was the softest shade of blue, growing more vivid as the sun moved across the sky throughout the day.

  I picked up speed as my muscles warmed, breathing in and out evenly. Even though I’d only slept about four hours, I felt energized, awake. I inhaled through my nose, taking quiet comfort in the earthy and pine scents that flooded my senses. The forest was my form of morning caffeine. The extra oxygen provided by the abundance of trees just felt good. Once I passed the point of my lungs burning from exertion, I had that infamous runners’ high and I was drunk with it.

  About twenty-five minutes into my run, I circled back towards the ranch, my stomach protesting at its emptiness. I never ran with food in my stomach. I usually drank a glass of orange juice and water prior to running, but never breakfast.

  When the cabins came into view twenty minutes later, I couldn’t resist my eyes moving to where Julian’s cabin was and noted his now-empty driveway. I didn’t allow the disappointment I initially felt take root in me, remembering he would be gone all day today. And besides, Sundays were my busiest day, and there was hardly a moment free to entertain thoughts that weren’t work-related.

  I slowed to powerwalk as I headed for the big house, the blood pumping in my ears as my breathing slowed, my limbs warm. I plopped onto the grass right in front of the steps leading up to the entrance and stretched my legs. I slid off the wrist band that had my pepper spray and kubotan and then grabbed my toes and pulled, stretching.

  I felt sweat running down my spine and shivered slowly, my body adjusting to the cool temperatures now that I was no longer in steady motion.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Dylan appeared carrying a few egg cartons. Rosa’s pet project a few years before had been her hen house. It was still her pet project, but not one she usually had time for. It was one of the many side tasks I usually took care of, so I was surprised to see Dylan carrying the egg cartons into the big house.

  When he saw me he changed direction and headed my way. He set the cartons down on the steps just behind me and sat next to me in the grass. “Long run?”

  “Eh,” I replied, shrugging. I straightened my legs in front of me and leaned my upper body on my legs, hands wrapped on the arch of my foot. “About forty-five minutes.”

  “That’s forty-five minutes longer than I ran this morning. High-five.” Dylan held up a hand and I laughed, slapping it with my hand before returning to my stretch. He snagged my wristband that held the pepper spray and kubotan and held up the latter, laughing. “You know what this looks like, don’t you?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  My kubotan was silver, with indents for finger grooves along the rod. Despite being a useful tool for self-defense, I had to admit I agreed with where his thoughts were going. “It does look like anal beads, doesn’t it?”

  Dylan tossed the wristband back to me. “Sure, anal beads for the masochist.” We both laughed, nearly doubling over, bonding over our immaturity.

  “Why did you get the eggs this morning?” I asked, looking over at him when my laughing had died down.

  “The guests that checked into the big house yesterday wanted eggs this morning. And after feeding the six of us this morning, Rosa was out.” Dylan ran his hands through the grass. “I knew you’d gone for your usual Sunday half-marathon, so I volunteered.” Dylan smiled sideways at me.

  I laughed. “Well thanks. Hope the hens didn’t give you too hard of a time.” I slid my legs apart, spreading them to deepen my stretch.

  Dylan held the tops of his hands out for my inspection. I noted the many scratches, though none deep enough to be concerning. “They still hate men, like most women I know,” he laughed, but looked at me pointedly.

  “What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “I don’t hate men. I tolerate you, don’t I?” I teased.

  Dylan leaned back, using his hands behind him for support. “Rumor is you went on a date last night.”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Doesn’t anyone around here work? Or are they too busy participating in idle gossip to earn their keep?”

  “Come on, Andra. We’re like a big, smelly, dysfunctional family. We keep tabs on our kin.”

  “I’ll attest to the dysfunctional, but unlike you, I’m not smelly. I shower.” I returned his pointed look with mock disgust.

  Dylan reached an arm up and pushed me over as I leaned into my left leg, causing me to roll the other way. “If I didn’t shower every day, I’d have an entourage of flies after me,” he protested.

  My friendship with Dylan was close, similar to a brother. Though I didn’t confide in him with the deep stuff, we still usually kept up with each other’s lives. I knew by the direction of this conversation, that Dylan was a little disappointed to learn about my date from someone else. Our romantic connection was no longer present, so Dylan wasn’t jealous; he was clearly feeling down that I didn’t tell him myself.

  When I sat back up, I turned to face him more fully. “He asked me out late Friday night and I didn’t see you yesterday except when you tried drowning me on the dock.”

  Dylan chuckled, remembering. “Okay, fine.” He ran a hand through his wavy blond hair before making eye contact with me. “But you don’t date. Ever.”

  I nodded. “It’s weird, isn’t it? But I had fun. We’re going on another date on Tuesday.”

  Dylan’s eyebrows shot up high at that. “Two dates? I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I mumbled, looking off towards the cabins.

  Dylan stood up and reached a hand down to me. When he pulled me up to standing, he grabbed the egg cartons and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Still up for Waffle Wednesday?” he asked as we headed into the big house. “I don’t want to intrude on your busy dating life.”

  I grabbed the cartons from him and shoved him away, playfully. “Don’t be a dork. I’m always up for waffles.”

  Waffle Wednesday was a weekly tradition for Dylan and me. Every Wednesday night, we would make waffles and watch movies in Dylan’s cabin. It was the only time of the week we had to catch up, and a tradition we had kept up for the last three years.

  Rosa came out of the kitchen. “Oh good,” she said, taking the cartons from my hands. “Dylan, Farley ran the mower over some barbed wire along the southwest corner. He tried using wire cutters, but can’t get it untangled.”

  Dylan sighed. “What was he doing in the southwest corner anyway? Do we even mow over there?”

  The southwest corner of the property was mostly dead grass and tree stumps. There was an access road that led from the stables to that corner of the property and a few steel carports that sh
eltered the horse trailers that were parked in that area, but otherwise it was mostly unoccupied.

  “It’s overgrown with weeds, so I asked him to. I’m more concerned about barbed wire being loose back there,” Rosa said, leading us into the kitchen.

  Dylan poured a cup of coffee for himself and leaned against the counter, facing Rosa. “There is barbed wire fencing back there to keep the coyotes off the property. But last time I checked it in the spring, it was secure.”

  Rosa washed the eggs before cracking them into a bowl. “So we either have trespassers cutting the wire or a coyote got through and pulled some wire with him. Can you check it out and help Farley untangle the wire?”

  “He should’ve checked the area first anyway. There’s a ton of stumps back there, he could have bent the blade.” He sipped his coffee and then motioned his cup in my direction. “I miss when Andra mowed. I never had to rescue her.”

  I grabbed some juice from the fridge. “That’s not true.” I looked directly at Dylan. “I distinctly recall running over a half dozen sprinkler heads on the front lawn the first few times I mowed.”

  Dylan laughed, his eyes lit up with humor. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Good job; that was a pretty spectacular mess.”

  I curtseyed and sipped my juice. “Thank you, thank you.”

  Rosa pushed a plate of bacon towards me as she whipped up the eggs. “That’s why we have flags now.” She turned her gaze to me.

  I chewed on the bacon thoughtfully before turning to Dylan. “After you get the wire untangled, send Farley and the mower up here. I’ll teach him to mark the sprinkler heads up on the front and back lawns and how to mow so we don’t end up with zigzags again.”

  Dylan sipped more coffee and nodded. “It would be nice to look like someone sober mowed our lawn.”

  Dylan and I laughed. “Hey,” Rosa interrupted, “everyone needs a teacher. Farley will figure it out with a little guidance. I remember everything I had to teach you two when you first came to work for me.” She poured the eggs into the skillet, eyeing us sharply. “He’s just a kid.” As if to emphasize her point, she took the bacon plate back from me as I snagged one more piece.