Country Nights

by Winter Renshaw

  “You want some food?” he asks. “We’ve got jalapeno poppers, onion rings, mozzarella sticks …”

  Waving my hand, I shake my head. “No, no. I’m good.”

  Asa passes by, gawking at the two of us and daring to give Seth a dirty look. A bold move, if I say so myself. Seth peers down his nose, his serious expression never faltering until Asa stumbles out of sight, into a dark corner.

  “He shouldn’t mess with you again,” Seth says. “But if he does, my office is just past the restrooms. Red door. Knock three times. I keep it locked.”

  “Thank you.”

  He eyes the back of the bar before looking back at me. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Leighton,” I say, my fingers sliding down the wet glass of my Corona bottle.

  “I’m Seth,” he says, again.

  “You said that already.” I wink.

  “I know. I was just testing you.” He flashes a huge smile that makes my heart do another somersault, and then he lingers for an extra second. “You passed.”

  I laugh, soaking up his warm presence. I’ve been here all of three days, second guessing my decision to come here … until now.

  “You’re going to come back, right? I’ll see more of you around here?” he asks. I steal a quick glance at his left ring finger out of curiosity, finding it bare. “Asa’s my best paying customer, but I’ll kick him to the curb if it means you’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be back.” My hands wrap the beer bottle and I glance away, drowning in flattery. “I’ll definitely be back.”

  Chapter Eight

  River

  “Morning.” Leighton is seated at the kitchen table, dressed and ready by six o’clock the next morning. “Thought you got up at five? I’ve been sitting here for the past half hour, wondering when you were going to make your grand entrance.”

  I huff, shaking my head and lumbering toward the coffee maker. I don’t tell her I stayed up last night, waiting until I heard the crunch of her tires on the driveway and her headlights in the front windows.

  For some reason, I couldn’t sleep until I knew she was home. These roads can be dangerous, especially late at night. And if anything happens, sometimes there isn’t anyone around for miles, no one around to see anything.

  “Every day’s a little different around here.” I grab a mug as the machine heats and percolates. “What time did you get back last night?”

  I pretend not to know.

  “Around midnight. I ran into some people I went to high school with,” she says. “I was actually on my way out the door and they were on their way in. They recognized me before I recognized them. Apparently I haven’t changed as much as I thought.”

  Standing next to the sink, I pour my coffee and gaze out the window. A blanket of fog covers the farm this morning, but it should lift by midday.

  “Sounds like you had yourself a time then.” I take a drink, mentally scanning today’s to-do list.

  “I did,” she says, coming my way. Her hand rests on the small of my back as she pours milk out of a cereal bowl and into the sink. “Even made a new friend.”

  I’m sure she did …

  “I need you to gather two dozen eggs from the hen house and run them out to Molly’s.” I clear my throat and change the subject because I’m small-talked out. “Baskets are hanging outside the coop. Mind your step. One of the hens likes to lay in random places. You can take the Chevy up the road. I recommend keeping the speed under ten miles per hour unless you feel like cleaning up egg yolks.”

  I feel her stare, and I know what she’s thinking.

  She wants to be friends.

  She wants me to ‘let her in.’

  I’ve seen that look before. She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last.

  “Oh … okay,” she says, blinking.

  “Keys are on the hook by the back door. Blue Warwick Motors key chain,” I say, finishing my coffee. “Molly’s in the big brick house a mile north of here on 146th Avenue. Can’t miss it.”

  Leighton stops in the doorway, taking me in.

  “What?” I ask, feeling the pinch of my expression.

  “Nothing, River.” With that, she’s gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Leighton

  “Oh, thank God.” Molly greets me on the back steps of her massive stone farmhouse. I don’t remember this being here twelve years ago, and it doesn’t have the patina of an older house, so they must have built it in recent years. “Just fried my last egg. You know we go through a dozen eggs every single day?” Molly shakes her head, her long dark hair styled in two Pocahontas braids that rest on her strong shoulders.

  She’s beautiful, but she’s not the type who probably knows—or cares. With bronze, makeup-free skin, dark, hooded eyes, and a warm, contagious smile, she’s a natural-born stunner.

  “These boys eat me out of house and home,” she says, waving me inside. “Come in. Sit for a while. Distract me from the chaos that is my life.”

  Molly giggles, immediately putting me at ease and making me feel like I’ve known her all my life.

  “I’m not going to get you in trouble with the boss man, am I?” she teases.

  “I don’t know. He was kind of in a mood this morning.”

  She wags her hand. “When isn’t he in a mood? You want something to drink? I have orange juice, milk, sweet tea …”

  “Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

  Molly grabs two clear glasses with tiny blue flowers before plunking a handful of giant ice cubes in each one and pouring our drinks.

  “Is he always like that?” I ask.

  “River?” Molly laughs. “These days, yes. But he wasn’t always that way. He used to smile more.” She pauses, seeming lost in thought as she takes a sip of tea. “Life can be pretty hard.” She shrugs. “And sometimes it’s harder on some of us than others.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “Since we were high school kids,” she says. “I grew up down the road from the McCrays. And I married his best friend. River introduced us actually.”

  “That’s really sweet.” My fingers trace the thin lip of the glass. I think my grandmother used to have these same ones.

  “Might be hard to believe, but River’s a really good soul,” she says. “He’s a good man. He takes care of people, though he’ll never take credit for it. I mean, there’s no reason he needs that big old chicken coop if it’s just him living by himself. I swear he only has it so he can give us eggs all the time. I think he likes feeling like he can take care of someone, you know? And he always helps Guy during calving season. We can call him up in the middle of the night and he’s there within ten minutes.”

  Molly is quiet for a second, focusing on the white sugar bowl in the center of her kitchen table.

  “Anyway, I could go on and on about all the things he does,” she says, “not just for us, but for a lot of people around here. My point is, River’s all bark and no bite. Underneath that grouchy, bitter exterior is a man with a really big heart. Once you get to know him, you’ll see.”

  I huff. “I’d love to see a softer side of him. Right now I feel like I annoy him.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know. Just the vibe I get?”

  “River acts like the whole entire world annoys him, and I know damn well that it doesn’t. He’s just angry about a few things, that’s all. Takes it out on the world but he doesn’t mean to.” Molly takes a careful sip of tea. “Anyway, I wanted to have some girl talk and here we are talking about a damn man.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, no.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “So are you really leaving next Friday?”

  My mind immediately goes to Seth for some odd reason. His dimples. His cool blue stare. His broad shoulders. His innately kind and protective nature.

  “That’s the plan …” I say.

  “No, you should stay.” Molly places her hand over mine. “Seriously. Or do you h
ave a job to get back to?”

  “No, no job.” I rest my head on my hand, exhaling. “I quit my job a few days ago. Well, I didn’t so much as quit as I asked for a sabbatical. My boss said art galleries don’t offer sabbaticals, but he offered to give me the summer off. Without pay. I figured that was better than nothing. Anyway, I don’t know if I’m going to go back to Scottsdale. Everything’s just kind of up in the air right now, for the first time in my life. And it’s oddly … freeing.”

  Molly’s pink mouth slides up at the sides. “That’s the spirit.”

  My phone rings in my bag, and I’m afraid to look at it. Grant’s been calling daily, relentlessly.

  “You can get that if you need,” she says.

  I groan. “It’s fine. It’s probably my ex. He’s been calling me nonstop since I left.”

  “I’m sorry, but men are idiots. And I can say that because I’m raising five of them in hopes that they don’t turn out half as stupid as their predecessors,” she says. “Whatever possesses them to harass us into submission is beyond me.”

  “He can call as much as he wants, I’m not going back there.” I hold my head high, realizing I haven’t once cried over that asshole. Maybe the love ran out a while back and neither of us noticed.

  “Good for you.” Molly lifts her iced tea as if to make a toast. “Anyway, I’m serious about you sticking around for the summer. I’m in the market for a new best friend, and I really think you’d be great for River.”

  I nearly choke on my drink. “What do you mean, I’d be great for River? We’re not … it’s not like that … I’m not looking for anything like that … not with him …”

  “Calm down, girly.” She covers my hand with hers. “I just mean, I think he’s lonelier than he lets on. And I see the way he looks at you. There’s something in his eyes. This little spark of color that hasn’t been there in years.”

  “I don’t know.” My head tilts to the side.

  “I’m telling you. I see something.”

  “Even if there was something, he’s not my type,” I say gently.

  “What is your type?” Molly crosses her legs, leaning in closer.

  Seth’s image fills my mind again, sending goose bumps up and down my arm and a quick flutter to my stomach. I’m like a damn school girl with a crush.

  “You’re smiling,” she says, pointing. “Who are you thinking about right now?”

  “I went out last night.” I drag my fingertip through a small puddle of condensation on the table. “And I met this guy. He was really nice. And funny. And cute. And personable. And charming. So I guess that’s my type? Nice, funny, cute, personable, and charming?”

  Molly’s excitement fades into a frown, as if I’ve just dashed all hopes of being everything she wanted me to be for River.

  “Anyway, I’m not looking for anything.” I lift one hand in the air. “I’m newly single, I didn’t come here looking for a reason to stay. If I meet anyone here, it’ll be strictly for … fun. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Totally understand.”

  We lose ourselves in thought for a while, and then I check the time. “I should probably get back.”

  Molly pouts. “Fine. But come back anytime. I mean it. And promise me you’ll think about sticking around past next Friday?”

  I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep, so I offer a non-committal, “I’ll think about it.”

  Besides, a lot can happen in a week.

  Chapter Ten

  Leighton

  Coming to The Oasis last night was driven by slight boredom.

  Coming to The Oasis tonight is driven by the fact that I can’t stop thinking about Seth, the bar owner.

  He’s like an earworm, stuck in my head, and I can’t get him out. I almost want to see him again just to know that he’s real, that I didn’t dream up this handsome, charming stranger in some alcohol-induced stupor.

  I’m certainly not looking for anything remotely akin to a brand new romantic relationship at this point in my life, but I’d be lying if I said the attention didn’t give me an innocent little adrenaline rush.

  I spent most of today doing odd jobs around River’s farm. Weeding the vegetable garden, cleaning out the stable, feeding calves and chickens, and checking the water troughs in the pastures.

  River was MIA all morning, and when we met back at the house for lunch, he didn’t say more than a handful of words to me. It was probably for the best that I stayed out of his way anyway because he wasn’t in a mood to exchange social pleasantries.

  After dinner, I showered and got myself cleaned up. River was gone when I came downstairs. His truck and dog, too.

  Refusing to spend my first Friday night as a single woman sitting at home alone, I found myself speeding down the country roads and making a beeline for The Oasis.

  “Leighton, you’re back!” A woman’s voice squeals in my ear followed by two lanky arms wrapping around me from behind.

  I turn to see Karly Conway, one of the girls I ran into on my way out last night.

  “I’m so glad you came back. Everyone’s here tonight,” she does a little hop, and upon further inspection, I see the bar is definitely more packed than it was twenty-four hours ago. This must be the place to be in Bonesteel on a Friday night. “I was just telling Sara and Katie and Heather that you were back in town, and they were freaking out.”

  Karly takes my hand and leads me through a maze of patrons toward a large booth in the corner next to the jukebox.

  The girls all but clamber over themselves to get at me, wrapping me in a group hug that takes me way back to the days when the most pressing issue on our minds was whether or not we were all going to homecoming in the same limo that year.

  “Come on. Sit. Let’s catch up!” Katie tugs me into the booth and they all scoot in, firing questions at me left and right, most of them fascinated with what life is like outside this one-horse town.

  When Heather yammers on about how annoying her husband is and how whiny her three kids are, I take the opportunity to do a quick scan of the bar in search of Seth.

  And sure enough, I find him.

  Standing behind the bar, talking to one of the servers.

  Our eyes meet, and I fight a twinge of a smile.

  His face lights up, dimples and all.

  “Who are you eye fucking over there?” Sara squints across the room, adjusting her glasses, and her face drops when she sees Seth making his way in our direction. “No fucking way.”

  “What?” I try to play it off, wishing I had a drink to stir or a way to look busy.

  “Seth’s coming over here.” Sara nudges Katie, and they exchange looks.

  “What?” I ask, harder. Someone better tell me what the hell the big deal is before he gets here because I’m dying.

  “I’ve only been in love with him my whole life,” Katie sighs, tossing back the rest of her martini. “And now he’s coming over here to talk to you.”

  “Sorry.” I crouch my shoulders in, offering an apologetic wince.

  Heather waves her hand in Katie’s face. “Who isn’t in love with him? He’s easy on the eyes. Nice. Loaded. He’s the whole enchilada plus the top shelf margarita and the vacation to Cabo.”

  “You’ve never even been to Cabo,” Katie says.

  “It’s an expression,” Heather snaps.

  “Ladies.” Seth stands before us, addressing the table but looking only at me. My chest is two seconds from exploding and I couldn’t wipe this ridiculous grin from my face if I tried, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “One of my girls is bringing over a round of tequila shots. On the house.”

  Katie lets out some kind of squawk and immediately turns bright red. Sara almost chokes on her drink, and Heather plays it cool, like a married woman secure with the fact that she can look but not touch.

  “Thank you, Seth,” I say. His name is gentle on my lips, like a South Dakota summer breeze.

  Our eyes catch again, and in the tiniest daydream, I imagine
him pressing me against a back wall, his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair.

  I haven’t felt this way since …

  … since I first met Grant.

  I’ve never wanted anyone to kiss me this badly.

  A girl in a denim mini skirt and orange tube top stops by with a tray of overflowing shot glasses, lime wedges, and salt shakers.

  “Enjoy.” Seth’s hand grazes my wrist before he leaves, and my entire body is on fire. If he doesn’t make a move soon, I’m going to lose it.

  “All right, girls, let’s do this.” Karly lifts the salt shaker to her wrist before passing it around the table. A minute later, we’re all wearing puckered faces, laughing, and feeling the heat run through our veins.

  Tonight, I’m free.

  Tonight, I’m alive.

  “God, you’re lucky,” Katie says, leaning in.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’ve been coming here for years,” she says, “and I’ve never seen Seth look at anyone the way he looked at you. And he’s never sent over free drinks. He wants you and he wants you bad.”

  Exhilaration mixed with the fresh alcohol coursing through me makes me nauseous with excitement. It’s good to feel something again, and for the first time all week, I can’t wait to see what the future brings.

  “You should go talk to him,” Karly says. “Strike while the iron’s hot.”

  “Yeah,” Sara chimes in. “We’re all dying to know if he’s really as big as they say he is …”

  Katie elbows Sara, giggling. “You’re so bad.”

  “What?” Katie slurs a little. “That’s the rumor. I’ve heard nine inches and I’ve heard ten. But that’s like, third, fourth hand. I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.” She points to me. “What do you say, Leighton? Wanna take one for the team?” She laughs, leaning into Heather, who seems annoyed. Then again she’s been in a constant state of irritation since the moment I sat down. “Go. To. Him.”

  I glance across the room, watching him make his rounds. Everyone seems to stop what they’re doing when he comes by, happy to give him an ounce of their time, happy for a sliver of his attention.