by Dani Wyatt
Chapter Fifteen
CHAD
Dust trails in two long clouds behind the Ford pick-up as Rachel drives back toward the farmhouse after delivering our lunch.
My dick is still standing at attention from the sight, sound and smell of her when she handed the box lunches to me and Enrique.
From her polite, reserved manner when she greeted us, she’s not ready to go public with the fact that I’ve staked my claim with her, so I’ll keep it under wraps for the time being. But, sooner rather than later because I don’t want to be hiding behind demure smiles and comfortable distances between us for much longer.
The clouds hang heavy over the sun, and a late summer breeze is blowing the hayfield in green waves that ripple all the way to the horizon. Today we are cutting a good ten acres of the field, tomorrow we’ll hit another ten, then it will be the combine and the corn until the fields are clear.
Enrique lets out a long moan as he lies on his back under the shade of a big old oak, eating his third cheeseburger while he stares up at the sky with his ever present smile.
“Where do you put all that food?”
The little guy out eats me by two times yet he’s half my size.
“It’s a gift. Without my wife here, food is my other love, so I eat. Storin’ up for when I see her again. She likes a little meat on her man.”
We’ve established a comfortable friendship in the couple days we’ve been working; he’s hard not to like. Always humming something while we work, never the same tune twice and I can’t say as I know a single one of them. But it’s nice, easy. And when there’s a moment of downtime we chat a bit about his life, his family.
Tell you one thing, he’s just about as in love with his wife as a man can be. The image thunders through my addled brain: me and Rachel fifteen years from now, still hot for each other with kids running all over and whatever else life has in store for us.
“She’s a fine girl.” Enrique stops his humming and speaks upward to the sky.
“What?”
He turns his head and his smile turns down. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Rachel. She’s a fine girl. You better treat her right though, or I beat your ass. I may not be big, but I can take care of you if I need to.”
“Jesus, what the hell? You a mind reader or something?”
He crosses and uncrosses his worn leather boots, stretching out under the blue sky as he pops the last bite of his burger into his mouth. As he chews he throws his hands behind his head. Then he swallows, takes a breath and turns his kind eyes to me.
“I know that look. You not fooling anyone.” He sits up, his face turning serious. “You hurt her, I hurt you. I’m just sayin’. Okay?”
His straightforward manner and protectiveness does nothing but make me like him that much more.
“Okay.” It’s all I can manage and Enrique nods. The subject is closed.
“Don’t let her get away though. I almost let my Vanessa get away. Thought no such thing as love at first sight. I got smart fast. Thank you, Jesus.” He makes the sign of the cross and lifts the crucifix from around his neck to give it a kiss.
“Yeah?” I pause, contemplating whether this is a conversation I want to have with a dude I’ve known for a couple days.
Fuck it.
“So you believe in love at first sight?” It’s such a bitch question it almost makes me wince, but I see the smile creeping across his lips. He stops fighting it and closes his eyes.
“Oh yeah.” He wiggles one boot and seems to be lost in something beyond my question, making me wait to see if there is more coming. “It’s the best kind. My Vanessa would kill me if I told you this.” He opens his eyes and gives me a rogue grin. “I made her mine that first night. You know what I mean?” He chuckles deep in his throat and shakes his head as he laughs. “Oh, yeah, you know.”
I nod and look down at the dirt, digging the heel of my boot in and making a small hole, thinking about how Rachel felt around me last night.
“Then...” Enrique startles me as he continues. “Then I got stupid, did something stupid and I almost lost her. But it all worked out. Five children later, and working on six. Huh? Yeah?” He sits up with a bark of laughter. It’s clear as day we both know what he means.
“I’m not letting Rachel go anywhere.”
“Yeah? Good. What you doing out here doing field work, anyway? Where you from? You don’t look like field work to me.”
“You don’t look like field work either. You and Vanessa run an antique store. So, I could ask you the same thing.”
“Yeah. Well, I have a soft spot for Jessie.” He nods. “What about you? What are you doing out here?”
“I just needed a break. Came back from out west where I trained cutting horses and hard cases. Rich people with too much money and not enough patience. Horses aren’t that hard to train, you just have to do it in their time and not on your schedule. I’m going to open my own training barn. Gotta find a location, but I needed some time. This seemed like the kind of place a man could pass some time. Hard work will clear my head while I look for somewhere to settle.”
“Didn’t expect to find her though did you?”
“Nope. I sure didn’t.”
“Why’d you leave?” He rests his elbows on his knees and takes a deep draw on his water bottle.
“Oh, family trouble. Not me, but still, just sort of soured things, you know?”
That’s not the whole truth. It was my Dad who pushed me to go. I wanted to stay and take care of them, but he made me promise to start over and not carry the burden of what Leander brought to our family.
“Yes. I know. You got family out here someplace?”
“A half-brother but we don’t talk. Dad passed, Mom’s in a home.” I lick my teeth and let out a long, low breath. I don’t even like to think about Leander, much less talk about him. He was my half-brother and we weren’t anything I’d call close, but he managed to dismantle our family and ruin another little girl’s life.
“Family, it’s a blessing and a curse. You got two chances for the family you wish for. One you don’t get a choice. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad. But the second one you make your own. God gives you the right woman and that’s where you need to start, the rest is up to you.”
Before I can answer, we both turn as the sound of an approaching vehicle toward the field draws our attention. It only takes me a split second and I recognize the oversized, black Ford F350 heading our way.
I pop up to my feet, brush the dirt and grass off my ass as Roger pulls the enormous pickup to a stop by the tree.
“Howdeeeeee.” Roger hops down out of the cab and tips his hat at me then Enrique.
“Enrique, this is my friend from way back. Roger Chaney.” I nod back at Roger. “Roger, this is my partner in crime out here, Enrique Torres.”
They nod at each other.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask as Roger scans the hay field before reaching down to pick a long piece of grass and put it between his teeth.
“Just sayin’ ‘Hi.’” He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Got your note yesterday. Your stuff was gone. I was hurt.” Roger frowns and bats his eyelashes playfully, feigning heartbreak.
“Yeah, well, you were off running your empire. Someone has to do the dirty work.”
Enrique chuckles and gets to his feet. Stretching his hands over his head for a moment before stepping over to lean against the tree to our left.
“Yeah, speaking of empire.” Roger twists his lips.
I figured this wasn’t just a friendly house call when Roger continues with a look in his eye like he wants something from me. “I know you were trying to find a place of your own, but I want you to bring Arabelle out now instead of whenever you get around to it. I want to use her in my clinics if you don’t mind. Have you do some demo with me. Add some new flavor to the clinics. You two have some tricks I can’t even begin to figure out. What’d’ya say? I’ll even pay to have her ha
uled out here. I’ll use Rusty Thompson; he’s got that rig with the palace of a horse trailer. He’s got a run out that way tomorrow. Could stop by and bring her back with him.”
I shake my head. Roger’s always got hustle going on.
“Yeah?” I stall, I do want her here. Didn’t think I missed that mare as much as I do. Only been a few days and there’s just something missing not seeing her every day. “I’ve promised my help here, I can’t go off and just leave working with you.”
“Yeah. That’s for sure,” Enrique adds with a hearty laugh.
“Naw.” Roger kicks the grass and twists the blade that’s between his teeth. “I’ll bring her out, then you and I see what kind of schedule you got. I have three clinics here at my barn over the next month. Saturdays and Sundays.”
Jessie told me when I started she’d let us figure out our own schedule, and Enrique and I already decided Sunday would be our day of rest, and if we stay organized and on point, I could fall out with Roger on a Saturday as well.
“What do you think, partner? Think I could take the time?” I lean passed Roger to get an eye line on Enrique who’s already smiling.
“Sure. I do most of the work anyway.” He chuckles again. “I’m going to go see a man about a mule, so y’all let me know when you’re ready to go back to work. I’ll be over yonder when I’m done.” He tips his head toward the baler and saunters off toward a patch of scrub bushes.
“Sounds good. I’ll call out to the ranch and let them know Rusty’s coming for her. Just have him tell me what day and time, I’ll give him the new barn manager’s number out there so he’s ready.” I have to admit, I’m a little giddy about Arabelle coming out sooner than I’d expected.
“Yeeeaaaah, buddy.” Roger’s smile spreads wide. “Get you back in the game, my friend.”
“Seems so.” I tip my hat back and forth and watch as Enrique comes out from behind the bushes heading over to the big machine. “I should get back to work. You could have just called, you know.”
“Naw.” Roger shakes his head. “I miss this too. Being out doing field work” He looks around, then up at the sky. “Keeping it simple. It’s got a certain romance don’t it?”
“Yep.” I step forward and Roger takes his own step toward the truck. We know each other that well, it’s time to wrap it up.
“I’ll be in touch. We’ll get you on the program. The infamous Chad Butler’s in the hooooooouse,” he hollers at the sky, tossing the chewed piece of grass on the ground and stomping back to his truck without a goodbye.
I’m not infamous. Roger’s the one with the high profile in the training business. I have a good reputation, and a good business in my own right, but my name isn’t a brand like Roger’s.
Roger mentioning my dad makes me think back to when my parents first found out what had happened with Leander and the girl. How they didn’t believe he could do something like that. They did their best to keep me out of it; I spent nearly a year at my Uncle Jerry’s farm working while the storm passed. By the time I got back, Leander was sentenced and nothing was ever the same at home and they never talked about it.
Dad’s business faltered and he sold the farm a few weeks before he begged me to leave.
I guess I feel some guilt. Truth is, I ignored it as best I could. I didn’t ask questions and looking back, I could have been more supportive to my Dad. I ignored it all, didn’t look at the newspaper, barely left Uncle Jerry’s farm. Figured out it was best to let the storm blow over and everything would go back to how it used to be. I was wrong.
Dad was never the same after all that and the truth is he died of guilt and shame. Mom was already half in her own world, so at least she didn’t suffer the same way. All in all, it destroyed more than the girl Leander molested. The court kept her name from being made public being she was a minor and at that time Leander was living hours from us, but Dad still felt it stained our family.
My dad was a decent man. A good man.
Leander was a child from the only other woman my father was ever with. One time when he was sixteen.
But it created a life. Growing up, that was another reason I didn’t take to one night stands or dipping my wick just for the sake of getting off. I saw what one mistake can do. I also saw what true love looked like with Mom and Dad.
As I think about it, a sick panic crawls into my gut, a moment of doubt that maybe Rachel isn’t as gone as I am. I have to shake my head to get rid of it. Tell myself that if she has doubts, that’s okay. I know how to rope a calf. She’s mine. If she needs more convincing, I’ve got plenty of rope.
Chapter Sixteen
RACHEL
Chad insisted on checking up on me last night even after I’d texted him when I arrived at Tabitha’s.
He texted me three more times. He was sweet, without being creepy. When I got back home around 5:30 a.m., there was a bouquet of wild flowers waiting for me in my bedroom. I made an offhand comment to Jessie as she fried eggs this morning in the kitchen to see if she knew that he’d managed to slip in and out of the house for the last two nights, but she seemed oblivious.
Seems the wrangler is stealthy. But the note he left with the flowers made it darn well clear that I needed to get used to his kind of attention. And I have to say, it’s pretty nice when someone thinks you’re so special.
Chores never stop, not around here, so the morning was filled with routine. Only today there was this aching inside me. A longing that needed to be filled and I kept playing little snippets and scenarios in my mind of when and how Chad and I might be able to be together again.
Noon now, and the lunch is packed and loaded and I hold it on my lap as I start the truck. I throw Clifford into gear, Johnny Cash comes through the speakers heading out to the back hay field with a stomach full of butterflies.
Only as I get closer, the butterflies disappear to be replaced by a clenching sense of something else.
You never hear voices over the engine and cranking sound of the huge hay baler. Unless someone is screaming, like they are now.
I slam on the brakes on the pickup as I get to the clearing where I see the enormous machine, flinging the door open and leaving the engine running. The box of food tumbles to the ground, but I don’t care, I jump out of the cab and go. Screams ring out across the field and in my ears as I run toward the noise. My heart’s in my throat. I know something’s wildly wrong, but it’s like I’m moving in slow motion, the intensity of whatever is happening already pumping adrenaline through my veins.
“Pull...help. Pull me...don’t let go. Please!” Enrique’s voice rising above the machine noise.
I come around the huge green machine, my adrenaline shooting sky high. Chad stands on on the wheel well, reaching down, Enrique pressing hard against the turning arm of the intake.
Enrique’s stuck.
“Rachel!” Chad’s voice is a desperate plea for help. “The emergency stop isn’t working!”
Every muscle in my body pumps with fear. There is a lever down at the back of the machine that’s supposed to shut down the engine without having to climb up into the control cab at the top. The screams tell me whatever is happening is bad, the sounds coming from Enrique are drilling holes in my ears.
“Help pull, Rachel. Now!”
I scramble up the huge tires, flailing for handholds and onto the back of the machine full of the fresh cut hay. Enrique is caught by his shirt and the giant, rake-like feeders are working his body closer and closer to the point of no return.
Fire burns in Chad’s eyes as every muscle in his arms struggles in vain to pull Enrique’s free arm back from the sucking machine. I can’t see if his arm is already inside the machine. There’s already blood on Enrique’s head from the rakes spinning and bumping against him.
Chad holds his arm, fighting desperately to save Enrique’s life. His face grimaces in pain and effort, teeth clenching, sweat giving his features an unreal sheen. The sun beats down and the screams mixed with the intense siren of the powerfu
l machine shoots arrows through my heart.
Enrique’s slipping, closer to the intake. Chad calls my name, but there is no room for me to help pull. The ladder going up to the cab has long rusted its bolts, so you have to pull yourself up to get to the main controls. I don’t have that kind of strength. I stand on the top of the loose hay and out of the corner of my eye I see a wooden handle.
I don’t remember thinking, just acting on reflex, like a cat chasing a mouse. I grab the wooden handle, knowing the hard iron pitchfork is on the other end. I fall down onto my stomach, lean over the intake, the bits and pieces of hay spraying up into my face, sticking in my eyes. But I don’t care, I just let them cover me as I drive the pitchfork with all my strength into the spinning gears.
The screaming of Enrique and Chad is met with the screeching and grinding of metal. The towering monster of a machine jerks and clanks, the spinning rakes stopping in mid-spin.
“The red button. Chad, you have to hit the red button up there. You’re going to have to let him go!”
The wild-eyed look from Chad pierces my gaze as I scream at him. I see the flash of doubt in his eyes as his hands still grip with all his force onto Enrique’s arm. It only takes a split second for him to realize the pitchfork has stopped the spinning, but we both know it won’t last long. Already the wooden handle is shaking and the gears of the mighty machine are fighting against the intruding element.
He needs to let Enrique go, jump down then back up to the control panel and hit the full stop button while he can. It might be the only window.
Like a rocket, Chad’s long hard body leaps from his place next to Enrique, taking in the ten feet of space between him and the lifesaving stop button like an Olympic pole vaulter. The grinding of the gears howls in our ears, the wooden handle of the pitchfork quivering like a reed as the machine works with all its might to drive out the offending piece of metal that has stopped its forward motion.