Be My Warmth

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Be My Warmth Page 16

by Shanade White


  Pulling out the driveway, Natalie’s face clouded over. “Oh, I mean, I had some inkling of what the corks did. I suppose this type of hat is beneficial to the whole western theme, which is why they have the design, right?”

  It’s Australian outback, you idiot. And I bet that’s your hat. Whitney said nothing, instead plastering a big, fake smile of her own. “Yes. Can see that. Think it really suits what you wearing. Got that vibe, yunno?”

  “Yes.” Natalie, reaching a junction, peered both ways. “Anyway, I’m picking up Faith about thirty minutes away from here. Alex should be driving with Sandra, Gracie and Tia.”

  Whitney immediately saw the benefit of why Natalie had chosen her and Faith to be in the same car. Faith would likely be a mute, and Whitney worked harder than most to try and keep things civil in the office. This was compared to Sandra, who liked to gossip, Alex, who had the ability to shock and make grown people cry, and Tia and Gracie, who when together and not feeling under pressure, rarely shut up about anything.

  When they picked up Faith Saunders, she gave a quick, downcast hello, and slid into the car with her dark, embroidered backpack on the seat, camera dangling from her neck. Whitney noted the attire. Faith wore a green and black checkered button top, with the sleeves rolled up. She also had a laced amber bracelet strapped onto her wrist, and her blue jeans, scuffed and patchy, flared over black combat boots. The short black hair on her scalp scraped up into an aggressive ponytail. A black hoodie was tied around her waist.

  Whitney examined the embroidered badges last, seeing rock bands and obscure references to what she supposed all related to gaming.

  Faith’s eyes danced to Natalie’s hat. A faint smile twitched at the corners of her lips. Whitney turned to face the road, not trusting herself to keep a straight face. She wondered who else would notice the clash of theme on the executive, if she made the choice to keep adorning the hat.

  “Well, Faith, I’m sure you’re looking forward to this as much as anyone else! This is your first company trip right, as well?”

  Faith nodded. Then, realizing she was expected to speak, said, “Yeah.”

  “Ah.” Natalie rolled her eyes theatrically at Whitney, before once again adopting the plastic smile. “This will be a week of bonding for all of us, so we expect to spend some time getting to know each other… participating in team building activities. You can be ever so quiet, Faith. Why, we hardly know a thing about you!”

  Natalie maneuvered onto the road, the sun glinting down onto them, even as Faith, for whatever incomprehensible reason, flushed bright red and recoiled into herself. Normally, Whitney let that kind of manner slide. After all, she didn’t really care about the others in the workplace beyond the basic, needed interactions, along with a few well-placed jokes.

  However, still smarting from her previous conversation with Aniyah, and the Goddamn dumb way people always acted, she wanted to snap out, tell Faith to quit being stupid and clamming up when someone bothered to address her. Whitney checked herself in time. Confronting the shy girl in front of a company office assistant manager and executive would further humiliate her, and leave something unpleasant lingering in the back seat of their road trip. It was just as well Alex wasn’t here either. Alex Holding’s role was floor manager – higher than Whitney’s, lower than Natalie’s. Too much authority crammed into one car for the woman to handle.

  Time and place for everything, Whitney. “Sure we will have plenty of time at the ranch for talk,” Whitney found herself saying. “Be nice to see each other in a different, more relaxed setting.” Her eyes glazed over, vague aspirations of the trip floating into her head, along with a tiny, invasive voice in the back of her mind. If these people knew what I really thought about them…

  They didn’t. It was another thing to be thankful for.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have some of the older crew coming with us on this trip,” Natalie mused, clutching the steering wheel tighter, “I’m sure you would have loved to meet Hannah or Julie, Faith! They were a real hoot. Certainly knew how to have fun. The last trip was memorable.”

  Check for Natalie digging at Faith, check for mentioning her former bitchy drunken office friends. “They could be a real handful,” Whitney confided to the hunched up Faith, “But I bet they’re happier where they are now.” She turned attention on Natalie. “Do you still speak to them sometimes? You got on well with them. Could be good to hear how they’re doing.”

  Natalie, obviously unsure if Whitney was insulting her or not, gave a half shrug. “The last time I spoke to them was two months ago. They’ve been very busy in their new lives.”

  “You should meet up with them at some point. Be good for all the girls to hear from them.”

  “Yes. Yes, true. I’ll think about it.”

  “What happened… last trip?” Faith’s eyebrows puckered up in curiosity. Her voice scraped out of her mouth as if forced through.

  “Good girl,” Natalie enthused. “It’s good to ask, isn’t it, Whitney?”

  Ignoring the statement, Whitney explained to Faith, “We went to a luxury hotel with a swimming pool and spa resort to promote swimwear. Everyone in the department went together. Quite a noisy trip.”

  Natalie chuckled. “I swear, Hannah and Sandra got so drunk they almost drowned themselves in the pool. Whitney had quite the time assisting to bundle them into their beds. Hannah was caught with George as well, they got a little too comfortable with each other, if you get my meaning. There were quite a few activities of the copulating variety going on.”

  “Yup. Company was in flames about it – must have fired about eight people.” Whitney preferred shutting out the memories of that particular debacle. “Considering the embarrassment of the hotel and the staff looking to sue for damages.”

  “You might had even seen it in the papers, Faith. No one could ever describe life at this company as boring, at least,” Natalie said with a smirk.

  Whitney saw an expression of mild panic on the younger woman’s face, through the center mirror. “It’s probably gonna be a quieter trip, since we’re isolated from the city. So. Question. Have either you two done any of the activities the ranch got listed for us before?”

  Faith fiddled with her bracelet. “I’ve d-done horse-riding, and some animal care. I have some cousins who live on a farm. I used to go over there on holidays. We would, um, feed the piglets or take the horses for rides over the fields.”

  “Oh?” Natalie glanced into the rear view mirror to examine Faith better. “I never knew that. See? We’re getting to know more about you already. I confess I’ve dabbled in some of the activities as well. I had an aunt who participated in the 2004 Olympics with dressage. She kept her prize horses in the stables and ran a training school. We used to feed them apples. Horses love apples!” She then pointed at Whitney. “What about you?”

  “Nothing,” Whitney said. “Done nothing. Always been interested, just never found the time.” Or the money. Slight concern wormed in her stomach at the notion of everyone being able to do everything better, whilst she floundered like a fish out of water trying to fix on a saddle or something.

  “Aww, that’s a shame. At least you get the chance for this trip! And… we all get to meet a celebrity in the flesh. We’re going to be taught by Jack Brook himself. Ladies, we are fortunate, and we should show it.” A predatory smile coated Natalie’s features. “I certainly am looking forward to getting to know him better.”

  “Think we all are,” Whitney agreed. After that, conversation between them became more interspersed, before stopping altogether.

  It gave Whitney time to think, daydream, and wonder what lay in store for them. It helped to pass the long hours as the scenery rolled past.

  Whatever lay in store, Whitney fervently hoped she would be able to cope with it.

  Chapter 3

  Staring out of the open window, Whitney drank in the sight of nature. Her elbows rested on a smooth-hewn wooden sill. Eyes darted from one attraction to the next. St
rewn before her clustered seven other lodges of identical size to her own, each stolidly built with logs, emitting a rustic, old country aura. To the left, underneath puffy white clouds, yellowish-green fields were fenced in, with horses of varying coats and sizes roaming the paddocks. Over the right stood the main building, where the reception, dining hall, and most of the activities were organized. It concealed a stable range and what looked like practice grounds. Mountains strung themselves up in the distance, and the ground curved downwards into a v shaped basin, where a river burbled into a tranquil lake. Several pathways twisted and turned into beautiful, flower-choked trails. Fresh air, the cleanest Whitney had inhaled in years, soothed her lungs.

  The whole environment felt alien to Whitney. Seeing pictures in the flesh, smelling, tasting and absorbing the sounds confused and delighted her. She took in everything like a child at the fair for the first time, not knowing what to look at, but wanting to comprehend everything at once.

  Tia loitered outside her cabin with Sandra and Gracie, and she gestured to the horses in the fields, and to the lone ranch-hand sat astride a dappled gray. He didn’t seem to be doing anything other than observing the animals. Alex and Natalie remained in their lodges for now, taking the time to rest up after their long trip. Sleeping in the car did something nasty to their muscles, so an actual bed resembled heaven. Faith already looked to be wandering around, taking the opportunity to snap pictures.

  Although they did stop twice partway through the journey to eat at roadside diners, the drag of travel hung on all of them greatly. Something with the vast, sprawling visage of the country before Whitney made her understand for a brief, intense moment, how people could be healed and blessed by the sight of nature.

  The beauty of it struck her in the heart. This was more than the constant thrum of cars in the background – replaced now by cicada calls and the grunts of the farm animals behind. Even the dust smelled different.

  Tearing her eyes away from the window, Whitney finished up storing her items in the lodge. Small, it boasted a shower unit, a tiny kitchen bar with a two-ringed hob, an indoors lavatory, sitting room and bedroom. Somehow, it all fit together snug and perfect, aesthetically pleasing despite the modest proportions offered. Picture frames decorated the log walls, all cradling delicate paintings of the ranch, from the animals to the fields and the mountains. Whitney flumped on the bed, back sighing in relief as she stretched.

  For better or for worse, the ranch would be her new home for the week, and the female colleagues her main companions. Whether it resembled an ideal holiday retreat or a prison detainment camp remained another matter. Whitney ran through the potential sources of trouble in her mind. Sandra, Gracie and Alex hovered high on her threat list, Natalie and Tia moderate, Faith low.

  She ran over the week’s schedule, handed to all of them when they entered reception to register their presence, before dismissal and the promise to return in three hours’ time for their introduction. Ranch hands would come knocking just in case any of them fell asleep. They also had the option to eat breakfast in the dining hall, which Whitney took up to grab some orange juice and two slices of buttered toast.

  Natalie insisted on doing the arrangements, obviously wanting to emphasize that she was the leader of the group, and a few ranch hands then led them to their lodges. Alex didn’t bother clashing with Natalie, letting her do the work. Whitney reflected a little while longer before rolling off the bed with the intention of examining her distributed clothing for the week. Whitney didn’t feel sure about the selection of clothes assigned by Outback Bandits when she rifled through the sports bag they were stuffed in. There were two dresses, three lots of jeans, hiking boots, knee boots, three tunics and three blouses. Nothing here would help her to stand out, which disappointed her – since she wanted Jack Brook to notice. The nightclothes, however, did stand out – but Whitney didn’t plan to exactly parade herself in them. She had a little more dignity than that. She took out a small leather bracelet, and placed it on with a shrug.

  She lay back on the bed. Anticipation snaked through her, keeping her mind alert. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Two hours and twenty minutes to go.

  She called her mother to announce the safe arrival. Aniyah wished her luck with the ranch, before saying she needed to go back to work as she was on her break. Whitney tested the Wi-Fi connection on her phone – strong – and flicked over her Facebook, though most of the posts held nothing significant.

  Then, bored, not knowing what else to do, Whitney wriggled into a pair of light blue jeans, a white blouse and the hiking boots, leaving the confines of the cabin to go for a walk.

  Outside, she squinted against the morning sun, mind whirring as it slid through the options offered. She spotted Faith wandering nearby the horse fields, still taking pictures, and figured the horses would be a good place to start. The fence remained in plain sight of the ranch, so she would at least not risk getting lost. Gravel crunched under her boots as she strolled. Remnants of dust spiraled around her ankles. She waved to Tia, Sandra and Gracie, who gestured for her to come over, and shook her head.

  “Later! Taking a walk!”

  “Okay!” Tia screeched back. “Don’t get trampled!”

  “Will try not to!”

  In the meanwhile, let’s add “being trampled by stampeding horses to the list of things that can go wrong.” Whitney grinned inwardly, tucking hands in her pockets. The fresh air gave a bounce to her stride. She reached the fence within a few moments, seeing that it reached up to her shoulders. She counted twelve horses scattered in the fields. Most were grazing, manes hanging loose from their necks. The ranch-hand sat motionless on his horse, as if in a trance. Faith, located two field lengths to the right, gave Whitney a tentative wave. She waved back, then headed left. She saw another ranch-hand, also inside the field, petting a small black horse.

  For an October day, the sun beat on her, delivering an odd mix of warm heat and cold air. She eventually stopped walking, leaned against a gap in the fence, and settled on watching the horses.

  She supposed this was something people did, rather like bird watching. She expected to get bored fast, just watching them chew and walk, but instead, found the act of observing them relaxing.

  Time ambled by. Whitney observed most of the horses preferred grouping up in small social circles of twos and threes. One horse, pawing the ground with a hoof, appeared agitated. Solid brown in color, with a long, amber mane, it towered at least three hands above the others. She scrutinized the gargantuan horse, wondering if it was planning to charge or start something with any of the others. It then began trotting towards the fence, and hesitated when spotting Whitney. Its ears flicked back, then twirled forward in interest.

  Nervousness blossomed. Whitney kept very still, not wanting to cause any sudden movements to startle the horse. The horse’s nostrils flared as if sniffing the air.

  Like an ole western standoff, Whitney thought, anxious. The male horse lifted one foreleg and stepped forward. The slow, careful stepping persisted until the horse hovered mere feet away from the fence, in striking distance.

  Now what? I stay? I back off? Whitney opted to do nothing, letting the horse choose the next action, fervently hoping it was just curious. Big beastie. Best not alarm him.

  The horse inched closer to the fence.

  Help. What do I do! I’ve never actually been this close to a horse. Jesus, it’s huge! Whitney contained the panic, staying resolutely still as the horse reached across the barrier to place his muzzle on Whitney’s hair. He took several, audible whiffs, then did something that felt remarkably like… well, chewing.

  Whitney let her mouth hang open as he persisted with tugging at the wiry bun on her head. “Excuse me? That ain’t a damn donut, horse.” Whitney raised an eyebrow as her trepidation faded into bemusement. “Sorry – don’t think you be finding it tasty.”

  The horse didn’t mind. He blew with his lips, moving to touch her ear.

  “Jesus!
That tickles!” Whitney ducked in reflex. The horse, clearly having no innate sense of personal space, bowed down to continue chewing her hair.

  Whitney ripped at the ground, tearing some of the scraggly grass out. “Please! Horse! Chew on this. My hair would like to remain on my head.” Straightening my palm, right? She held up her palm with the tufts of grass. The horse snuffled along until locating the grass, and gulped it out of her hand. He made the burr sound again, and Whitney tentatively patted his long cheek.

  “Well. Guess this is something. Either you like me or you think I taste good. And how big are you? The others seem so tiny…”

  “He’s the biggest horse on the ranch.”

  A yelp jumped out of Whitney’s mouth. She turned sideways to face the ranch-hand that had been with the dark horse, standing next to her, having apparently squirmed his way through the fence gap. On his head, a curved hat sat on heavy sunglasses. He also had a suspiciously thick black beard. Whitney twitched unimpressed eyebrows at the pale-skinned man.

  “Are you wearing a disguise?”

  “What? No. I know I probably look quite a sight, but it’s still early in the morning yet.” The man smiled with perfectly white teeth. He held out a hand. “I’m Bob. Bob… Stevenson.” His voice came out as a soft, cultured baritone, lacking the typical country bumpkin accent.

  “Right. I’m, uh, Whitney Robinson. I’m with the ladies for the company trip.” They shook hands. His palm brushed hers, rough with callouses. She liked the feel of it.

  “Gotta tell you, Miss Robinson. You surprise me.”

  “Eh?” Whitney huffed annoyance when the horse began chewing on her hair again. “What is with you? Quit that!”

  Bob fished out four white cubes from a bag in his coat pocket. “Give Graham Cracker some of these. Loves ‘em. He might leave your hair alone, then.”

  “Oh God, yes please.” Whitney snatched the sugar cubes, holding them up to the horse. He slurped them out of her palm, and let her pet him some more. “You seriously call him Graham Cracker? What kinda name is that?”

 

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