by Piper Frost
Rational. He seems very rational.
“Humor your mom and please come meet my son.”
He’s so weird and I’m in no mood but I have no fight left so I let my limbs hang and head for the door.
“She’s not gonna let you alone and you know it,” he quietly tells me as we head for the door that leads to the small hall…that leads to their house. “You just have to humor her for a few days and she’ll let you start getting on yourself. She cares and wants what’s best for you.”
Here’s where I snort and retaliate with some backhanded comment, but I don’t care enough so I pull open the door and jump back when Garrison’s younger twin is standing there.
“I was just coming to find you,” he says to Garrison then shoves his hand toward me. “Brandt.” He’s grinning and his eyes are just as intense but as kind as his dad’s. It's uncanny, their resemblance. Apparently handsome rugged cowboy runs in their blood. Makes me miss home, and not because of similarities but because I don’t want to be part of this hee-haw life.
“Jo,” Garrison says when I don’t respond. Blinking away my thoughts about New York, I finally move to shake his hand.
“Awesome tattoos.” He grins wider and Garrison clamps his hand onto Brandt’s shoulder like he did to me earlier. Now I see just how unthreatening it is.
“On her,” Garrison says and turns him to head down the hall. “You’d just look like you’re trying too hard.”
“Aw, come on, dad. What do you think, Jo? Don’t you think I’d look alright with a tattoo?”
“I think your dad might be right.” I try not to smirk but when Garrison looks back at me and winks with a smile, I can’t help it.
I didn’t know what to expect from him, and I can’t say I cared, but I’m glad they seem pretty normal despite the whole cowboy thing. Brandt is laughing about something, but I’m trying to study this mansion so I don’t get lost on the rare occasion I may leave my bedroom and venture past the guesthouse.
I’m really not hungry but it smells too good not to eat so I dive in.
“This your first time having venison?” Brandt asks me and my fork freezes as I stare wide-eyed into my bowl at dead Bambi.
“I thought it was cow.” I look at Garrison like he betrayed me. Omittance isn’t betrayal, but it’s close.
“Does it matter?” Garrison asks.
“Honey,” Donna says to him with a warning in her tone and I look from her worried face back into my bowl.
“I guess it doesn’t,” I admit because it was good and both are animals that are mass-produced for consumption.
“You like it then?” Garrison asks.
“Yeah.” I shrug and dive back in.
“Good. I’ll teach you how to hunt and skin one yourself.”
I cringe and look at him. I’ve seen a lot of gross things in life, but that doesn’t mean I want to barbarically hunt for my own food.
“I think I’ll become a vegetarian.”
Brandt snorts. “Good luck. Donna tried it.” He points his fork and looks toward her while she blushes.
“She was put off by hunting for her own food too.” Garrison puts his hand on hers. “She’s a lot more open about it now.”
“It’s not that bad,” she admits as if someone’s trying to argue her.
“Just doesn’t sound like a good time.” I stand and pick up my bowl.
“Aw, come on now. I didn’t mean to ruin your meal,” Garrison says with genuine concern.
“I’m full. It was good and I’ll eat it again tomorrow as long as I’m not hunting down Bambi.” I take my bowl toward what I think is the kitchen but I end up in a wine cellar.
“This way.” Brandt’s voice comes from the doorway. “I take it they didn’t show you around?”
“Hey now,” Garrison says and I look over at him because that southern drawl is like a foreign language to me. “She slept through it. Usually we only sleep through it when Donna starts in about the artwork.”
“Come on now!” Donna’s feathers are ruffled with faked offense and they’re all laughing.
It’s like a bad commercial for breakfast sausage.
Brandt steers me into a kitchen that’s as big as a small house and I sigh because it’s all too intense.
“I’ll be heading to the creek at dusk. You comin’ along?”
I cock my eyebrow at him before letting my eyes study the four sinks. I’m not sure which I should wash my dish in.
“Jo?” Brandt says, taking the bowl out of my hand and setting it into a sink.
“I’ll wash those.” I reach for the bowl but he stops me.
“Donna can do it. You can wash our dishes at our place though.” This kid is a lady killer and it almost makes me laugh because I can guarantee he knows that smile is charming as hell. Not necessarily to me, but I bet it gets him plenty southern belles.
When he opens a cupboard that has an automatic hand dryer built into the door, my brows raise. “This place is so weird,” I say it out loud but meant to keep it internal.
After the blasting dryer goes silent, he looks at me again. “Your mom’s a little extreme. Anyway, buncha my friends will be at the creek. You sure you don't wanna join?”
“Why would I want to do that?” I’m not sure what tone that came out in because I barely even listen to myself when I talk anymore.
“‘Cause it’s fun.” He shrugs. “You twenty-one?”
“No,” I respond, realizing he was probably hoping I could buy beer.
“We’ll get you an ID for the nights we head to Doobs. Just a shitty bar a few towns over, but if the Sheriff comes in everyone has to present something legit that says they’re twenty-one.” He’s smiling at me like this kid lives the best life ever because he’s content living with mommy and daddy’s money while playing cowboy jock. I mean he’s not bad, he’s nice, has an easy smile, and could be a cowboy boot model or something, but spare me.
“I think I’m straight on going to the creek.” I head for the door but he grabs my wrist.
“Hey, you’re not gonna rat on me about Doobs, are you?”
“No offense.” I pull my arm away. “But I keep thinking your name is Brad. I kind of don’t care what you do or lie to your dad and Donna about.” I shrug and head for the door again. “I just need a bed until my bad back can let me walk my ass to a train station.”
He starts to laugh like a rich cowboy’s laugh should sound and I can’t help but look back at him like he’s crazy.
“Is this gonna be like one of those things where you hate your step family and wish your mom would stop talking to you?”
“Naw.” I turn for the door again. “It’s going to be like one of those things where the girl sleeps at least eighteen hours a day and only gets up to eat and shit.” I leave him in the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. Night,” I mumble to Donna and Garrison.
“Jo, honey,” Donna says before I can get away fast enough. “Garrison was hoping to show you around the property.”
“Why?” I look her square in the eye, trying to detect the evilness, but it’s not there.
“So you’re prepared.” She looks at Garrison and he drops his hands from wiping his mouth.
“Because it’ll get pretty boring ‘round here and fast,” Garrison responds. “Ain’t that right, Brandt?”
“It’s not that bad,” the kid lies through his perfect teeth and grins at me. Grabbing my arm, Brandt pulls me to the front door. "Sometimes you just gotta walk away or they'll never stop," he says with a chuckle then points across a field. “C'mon, I’ll take you to the barn.”
I really don't want to, but unless I want to be rude and possibly kicked out on my first night here, I'm following this kid to barn hell.
"Yeah, so this is nice." I roll my eyes as we walk into the massive barn.
"It's no New York, but I prefer this over the big city any day." He tosses his cowboy hat on the table and walks over to pet a horse.
"Have you even been to a big city?"
/> "I went to Miami for spring break once." He grins. "Not much other than that, but that was enough to know I need wide open spaces and less traffic. And less crazy people."
I keep my mouth shut because I just want to go back to sleep.
"So daily we need the herd fed, chicks cleaned up after, the horses need some exercise and pens cleaned. Day starts about five, six a.m. if you're lucky. And there're about ten things a day around here that break and we need to fix, so it can get pretty busy. Days are long, but it's worth it. I haven't had to go to a gym yet and I'd like to think I'm in pretty decent shape." The horse nuzzles him like it’s impressed by Brandt’s muscles that make his t-shirt tight at the sleeves. "It's a really fun place, Jo."
I didn’t realize what I needed to be ‘prepared’ for until Brandt starts showing me the chores of the farm. They think I’m going to actually work on this farm.
"Fun. Like a circus. So, can I get back in bed? I haven't slept on a bed like that my entire life. I've been on a cot sharing a room with an ex-porn star for the past few months. I'd really just like some peace and quiet, and a comfortable bed."
"Ex-porn star huh?" He laughs. "I can't beat that, sorry. You know my dad's not going to let you sleep your life away here, right?"
"Um, well, he's not my dad, so." I shrug.
"We all live together, we might as well get along.”
“Technically it doesn’t matter,” I respond while heading toward the door. “I won’t be here long, and if I am you won’t see much of me.”
“That’s what you think.” He chuckles. “My dad and your mom will try and get you to work the farm and they’ll expect me to show you everything.”
“I didn’t come here to work.” I fold my arms over my chest, closing my eyes.
“Why did you then?” When I look at him, he’s still smiling that disarming smile. “I mean, I thought you hated your mom.”
“I don’t even know my mom.” Why would she tell him that? “I came because I was in rehab and it was either go with a family member or end up in jail. Probably should have chosen jail.” I sigh and head for the house.
Those boots jogging up behind me make a distinct sound and I glance over my shoulder when he says, “If you’re respectful and do your chores, they’ll leave you the hell alone.”
“I really just need a place to sleep for a while.”
“You can sleep when you’re dead.” He grins over at me.
"If you don't leave me alone, I will drop dead."
He wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk back to the house and I keep my arms folded tight to my chest. But when he musses my hair, I shove away from him.
"Aw come on. I'm just tryin’ to make ya feel at home, sis. This is your place as much as mine now, we gotta take care of it. Dad's not gonna live forever."
My eyes go wide and I glare over at him. "Are you kidding?" I laugh. "I'll be here like three months tops." I didn't plan on giving myself a timeline, but I need the hell out of here.
"We'll see about that." He chuckles at me as he opens a door that leads directly into the guesthouse then gestures me inside. "Last chance to come to the creek with me tonight." His eyebrows rise in question while a grin sits on his face.
"Last time I tell you no." I dart to the room I was given and close the double doors, relieved when there’s no knock.
For the last week, day after day, I’ve spent attempting to get this girl to open up. Don’t ask me why. She’s not the type of person I’d go out of my way for in other situations, but somethin’ tells me she puts on a pretty big show of ‘not caring’ when deep down she’s really a good person.
Either that, or she’s planning my murder as we speak.
“Mornin’ Jo!” I say, walking in the back door for a lunch break, wearing a smile for her.
“It’s one in the afternoon,” she says, so low I can barely hear her. Her hatred for morning is something I don’t understand, but I respect it.
“It’s morning for you though.” I shrug. “You want me to make you a sandwich?”
She glares at me from the couch, the TV paused while she tries to burn holes through my shirt. My smile doesn’t fall while she attempts to annihilate me with her laser eyes.
“No.” She turns back around and I shrug, heading for the kitchen to make my lunch before getting back out there. Rain’s comin’ and I have more work that needs done before I can’t.
“Mind if I sit with ya?” I fall to the couch next to her and take a bite out of my sandwich. The show she’s watching is some reality show, which I really try not to laugh at. This is the fakest shit ever. “Hey, headin’ to the creek again tonight. Feel like comin’?”
“I’m going to take a nap,” she says, pushing off the couch and heading back to her room, making sure to slam the doors behind her. I shake my head and sigh. One day this girl’s going to want to hang out with me. One day.
When the alarm goes off at five a.m. I'm already awake. How, at not even twenty years old, I'm wide-awake naturally this early is beyond me. I guess growing up a ranch hand has its benefits, but it'd be nice to be able to enjoy sleeping in every once in a while without feeling guilty that work isn't getting done. Who the hell am I kidding? I wouldn't be able to sleep-in if I tried. If it weren’t the guilt over the work, it'd be the pure boredom from just lying here when I could be doing something with my life.
I stretch and head to the doorframe to do my morning pull-ups. Fifty ought to do for now. It's a busy morning so I'll get a full body workout around the ranch. I love that I can help my dad, but I think the freedom of the job is what keeps me going. It's demanding, yeah, but I can put in my headphones and go to town fixing things around the property, feeding the cattle, or doing anything else that needs to be done without having someone breathing down my neck. Dad's always around, but with only two hands and enough to get done, we typically don't work close together unless it's necessary. The paycheck isn't that bad either.
After tossing on a pair of coveralls and my boots, I head out, almost forgetting that I have a houseguest. Almost. I can’t really forget her though. She's skittish, small enough to break in half, and kind of rude. If I ever treated my parents like she treats her mom I'd have been whooped so hard I wouldn't have wanted to walk for a week. The attitude, the way she looks, talks, and reacts, Jo’s someone you think is only created for a movie, but she’s real, and now I'm living with her. My step sister. Though, I'm not sure what her lying on a mattress all day is going to do to help her. I was told she's moving in to get back on her feet. Doesn’t seem like she even wants to stand on those two feet for long. She’s been here two weeks now and I’ve seen her leave our place once. A lifestyle of napping and watching TV is the most boring thing I could think of, but what about vitamin D? She needs sunlight, right? I’ve tried on multiple occasions to bring her out of her shell, but nothing’s worked yet.
Her doors are closed, no surprise there, so I head to the kitchen and make myself some coffee for my thermos. I lock up behind me, betting myself that even when I get back home in a few hours for breakfast she'll still be locked tight in that room. Maybe I should take her out to meet people. Make some friends. I mean, she’s family and knows no-one, isn't it kinda my job to introduce her to people? Maybe give her more of a purpose in life than to break the world record for longest time spent sleeping?
"Mornin'," my dad says as I walk into the barn. He's elbow deep already, working on the tractor that broke yesterday. One of these days I'll beat him to the barn in the morning. I've yet to do it, no matter how early I head out.
"Morning." I grab my hat off the bench, forgetting that I left it here yesterday. "I'm heading out to work on the fence along the south border unless you need something else from me." I tell him as I load my truck with supplies. Fences don't take much to replace. I'll have this fixed in no time.
"Steers need fed," his voice travels from under the tractor. "And this week's the chick delivery downtown. Don't forget."
"I got it, dad."
I slam the tailgate as he slides out and stands, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Hey,” he says, pausing his work. “Livin’ with Jo goin’ well? We haven’t seen much of her since she’s been here and it’s been a few weeks now."
I raise an eyebrow at the ridiculous question and take a drink of coffee. "Yeah.” I try not to laugh and disrespect him and Donna. "She's a blast." Turning so he doesn't see me, I roll my eyes.
"She needs us, Brandt." He sighs and I turn back to see a look of exhaustion on his face. "Donna's damned set to fix this girl."
"And if this grown adult wants nothing to do with being 'fixed'? She’s not a girl, dad, she’s a woman. A twenty year old woman and I don’t think bein’ fixed is part of her plan."
My dad makes a face and I chuckle.
"I got work to do. Lord knows she'll still be locked in that room and sleeping when we get done with everything today."
I get in and start up my truck and as I pull away I see my dad shaking his head. We knew months ago that Donna was bringing her daughter back here to live with us. What we didn't know was how different those two are. Donna's lost her damned mind if she thinks her daughter's going to be the sweet country girl that she wants. I've known the girl less than a month and I can already tell that.
The drive to the south of the property takes just a few minutes and by the time I get there the sun's already starting to come up. Luckily most of the posts out here are in good shape, but I do have to replace a few, and some fence wire for a good half-mile, so I blare the music and get to work.
As the country music blares on about love and happiness, I work through my morning, humming along even though these songs are all the same. I met a girl with short shorts and cowboy boots, we fell in love, she's so sweet, blah, blah, blah. I've met country girls. The real ones...and most of them are anything but sweet. That ain’t saying it’s a country girl thing, but when you’re from a small town, you get to know your schoolmates pretty well. The same country girls have surrounded me since birth and it ain’t all it’s chalked up to be. Lately, most of them have just wanted me because of Donna and her money. Either that, or to use Donna to get an in on their own singing career they want so badly but don’t deserve. The last girlfriend I had actually came to the house on multiple occasions to hang out with my step mom without even telling me. These country songs definitely don't portray country girls as they really are. At least not ones from this small town. If these lyrics were accurate, all country girls would be damsels in distress. Who wants a girl who can't hold her own? Not me. I'd rather have one with a little more kick in her step. Country or not. Someone that doesn't care how long I spend on the ranch and isn't waiting on me hand and foot when I get home. Someone who knows who they are and cares enough about themselves not to lose who they are to a man. Any man.