The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Put this on before your Uncle walks in here and drops dead of a heart attack.” Aunt Sue throws a pile of clothes at Savannah causing her to jump. The clothes land on her head and slide down to the floor, as I stifle a laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” she seethes as she steps into a pair of Aunt Sue’s sweatpants. They’re about ten sizes too big yet do nothing to curb the thoughts running through my mind about her long legs. She glares at me before sliding the sweatshirt over her head and yanking the hem down roughly. Even with the oversized clothes on, she’s still gorgeous.

  “Oh, I think it is.” I have to turn away because I don’t want her to see me smile. She’s cute when she’s angry and I don’t need her seeing that she has a positive effect on me. I busy myself by grabbing a plate from the cabinet and pulling out all the fixin’s to make my lunch. Aunt Sue provides the food. I provide the appetite.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn my head over my shoulder and say, “I’m making my lunch. What does it look like?” Her expression is one of confusion. I don’t get this chick at all. She murmurs my name and has no problem with staring at me, but when I’m standing in front of her, it’s as if I’m a foreign object. Of course, I’m no better. I finally have her standing in front of me and I say nothing. I just stand there and let her stare. Most men would be okay with that, but I’m not. The past twenty-four hours have not gone the way I thought they would.

  “Its breakfast time, isn’t it?”

  I look at my watch and shake my head, wondering what it would be like to sleep in until I could have a normal breakfast. “It is for people like you who don’t get up before the sun.”

  “Can’t you go home and eat?” Her tone is one that I’d expect from someone living in New York City, hell from any city for that matter, and just like that I’m pissed. I’ve been around long enough to know when I’m being talked down to. It happens all the time when the chicks come waltzing into Red’s looking for action, thinking we’re all dumb.

  I chuckle lightly and mentally count off the days until she’s out of here. If this is the kind of attitude I’m going to have to deal with when I come to work, I may need the damn summer off.

  “I work here, eat my lunch here and if I have a hankerin’ for some of Aunt Sue’s supper, I’ll stay for supper too.”

  “So you’re always here?”

  I turn around and lean up against the countertop with my ankles crossed. I take a bite of my sandwich and watch the frustration mask her beautiful face. “Ah, you askin’ ‘cause you’re interested?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

  Savannah’s eyes go wide as she crosses her arms over her chest, except she really doesn’t have arms since she’s swimming in her aunt’s sweatshirt.

  “Whoa, who’s this?” Jeremiah has impeccable timing as always. If he had walked in a few minutes ago, he’d have seen her in a state of undress and would be looking for a way to get her out to the barn to ride his tractor. That’s the last thing I want, him messing around with Savannah. He steps right up next to me with a piece of wheat hanging out of his mouth. He tips his hat toward her, only to be met with an icy glare.

  “Well, if it ain’t Mouse.”

  “Vanna,” she says, icily.

  I pat him on the back. “That’s right, Mouse grew up when she started hanging out with the Yankees and now wants to be called ‘Vanna’,” I add, watching her face morph into anger.

  “I don’t care what this fine piece wants to be called, as long as the sound coming out of her mouth is my name.”

  I laugh and wish he was joking, but he’s not. However, seeing the shock on her face as the words tumble out of his mouth are priceless, so I don’t do anything to correct him.

  “I didn’t think you liked ice cubes that much, Jer.”

  “Oh, I’ll make her warm.”

  “You’re really disgusting,” she seethes at us as she steps away. I can hear Sue in the other room trying to pretend she’s busy, but her laughter is giving her away. “You’ll stay far away from me or I’ll tell my uncle that you’re harassing me and you’ll get fired.”

  “Doubt it,” Jeremiah says as he winks at her. “Seriously, Mouse, what the heck happened to your braces and brown hair?”

  She relaxes, dropping her arms to her sides. “What’s wrong with you guys? You grew up. I grew up. You weren’t all tall and… whatever.” She moves her hands in an awkward motion toward us, solidifying my knowledge that she’s been looking at me. The very thought makes me want to go pound out some push-ups or something so she has more to stare at.

  “She wants us,” Jeremiah says with a straight face, causing me to choke on my lunch. Savannah turns, throws up her middle finger and walks out of the room, leaving us standing there, each with our own thoughts. It’s going to be a longer summer than I originally thought, especially knowing her and her big-city attitude are in full force.

  Savannah

  I officially hate my life. No, hate isn’t a strong enough word, but despise doesn’t seem to drive home what I’m feeling right now.

  Loathe?

  Resent?

  Revenge? Yes, that’s what I want. Revenge. I want revenge on Tyler, Jeremiah and most importantly my mother. Not that I can come up with something clever or anything that would make a difference in my mom’s world to show her how much I hate my life right now because of her.

  I look down at the pile of manure and let my gaze wander to my boots. No, they’re not even my boots, but my Aunt Sue’s pink muck boots with stupid brown horses on them. Every part of me is sweating right down to my toes. I rest my head against the pitchfork, but only briefly before the smell of cow shit assaults my nasal passage. I’m going to need so much therapy after living here. I certainly hope that Paris has some amazing doctors with the capacity to brainwash away my memories.

  I don’t know how people wake-up here every day and act happy. There’s nothing here. TV is questionable. No mall within a hundred miles. No Internet. No air conditioning. No cell service. I’ve literally stepped back in time and the highlight of my life is going to be the once a week trip I’m allowed to take into town – wherever that may be – to email my schoolwork. Lucky me!

  “Savannah.”

  I roll my eyes, pick up the pitchfork and move the steaming pile of cow shit into the wheelbarrow. I know I’m the laughing stock of the ranch, but I don’t care right now. Maybe in the back of my mind this was my plan all along – pack nothing but my summer wardrobe so they’re forced to take me shopping. Anything I can do to get off the ranch and into civilization. So what if my uncle doesn’t like my “daisy dukes” and crop tops? It’s a hundred freaking degrees outside. He’s lucky I’m not in my bikini right now.

  “I called for you.”

  I stop and place my hand on my hip, cringing immediately at the thought of shit touching my skin. Dropping my hand, I look Tyler square in the eyes. Had he known who I was when he picked me up yesterday we could’ve hung out. But no, he had to be an ass of epic portions and ignore me. I thought for sure he’d at least be a little bit of a salvation for me while I was here.

  “I’m here doing the work you said I had to do!” I wave my hand widely at the many piles that I’m supposed to move out to the “back forty,” as he called it. After Tyler’s early lunch, I was given my list of chores. At first I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t believe my aunt and uncle expected someone like me to get dirty. Sadly, I was wrong, and I was ushered out the door. Even my cry about homework fell on deaf ears. I’m sure that comes later. I’m learning quickly that we use nature as a clock on the ranch.

  “I see that. You’ve been out here for two hours and have yet to fill one barrow. You might want to pick it up because it’s gotta get done, and it’s either today or tomorrow.”

  “Whatever,” I spit out as I dig the pitchfork into another overheating pile of crap. “What do you want, Tyler?”

  “Well…”

  I stop what I’m doing and immediately regret it. He’s taken
off his hat and is running his hand over the top of his freshly shaven head. When we were little I used to tease him about his curls, but he doesn’t have them now and a part of me is wondering if they’ll reappear if he grows out his hair. I suppose this heat doesn’t mix well with longer hair. Lord knows I’m sweating something fierce. His blue eyes are a stark contrast against his tan skin, making them sparkle as if looking out over the ocean. His tan is real from working, not the fake type that the guys in the City often spend most of their time achieving under bulbs. I would know, since it was an every other day stop for me. On Tyler though, it’s sexy, appealing and sadly the opportunities I have to see him shirtless no longer continue.

  I look over his shoulder at Jeremiah who is taking out one of the horses. He’s screaming something incomprehensible, which causes Tyler to look as well.

  “Ignore him.”

  “I plan on it,” I say automatically. It’s dawned on me that getting along with Tyler and Jeremiah will make my time here more manageable, but I’m not here to establish the connection we had when I used to live here. Those days are long gone and overtaken by superficial thoughts and selfishness. I’m here to do my penance and get the hell on a plane to Paris. I have a goal and I won’t let some country boys ruin it for me.

  “Can I get back to work, Boss?” Tyler blanches at my choice of words, which gives me very little satisfaction. I want to take back my words, but am afraid to show him that I care. He didn’t care about me yesterday. Why should I show him my true feelings today?

  “Actually, Aunt Sue has asked that I take you into town. She thinks you need some clothes suitable for working on the ranch.”

  I shake my head. “She just wants me to dress more like her.”

  “Don’t know, don’t care, Savannah. I have to go into town, she mentioned me taking you, said it might be nice if we stopped for supper. I’m leaving in fifteen minutes.”

  Tyler doesn’t wait for me to respond. He turns and leaves me ankle deep in manure. I freeze when he takes off his shirt; watching the sun hit his back makes me ponder how different my life can be here if I let down my guard. Thing is, I did that once, and that’s how I ended up back in his Podunk town. I bet Tyler knows I’m watching him as he bends down to pick up the hose. He turns on the water and splashes himself. The droplets glisten in the sun as they traverse down each ridge on his back making me wish I had a towel to offer. He doesn’t exist where I’m from… and I can’t exist here.

  “Savannah?”

  His voice breaks my daydream and I find him standing in front of me. His chest is wet and drying quickly from the penetrating sun. My eyes travel down the front of his body. There isn’t a patch of hair until his belly button and then… I force myself to look away.

  “Why can’t you call me Vanna?”

  His lips pull into a thin line as he shakes his head. “Because that’s not who you are to me, sweetheart.”

  Rolling my eyes, I rest my hip against the pitchfork. I look at him questioningly, fearful of what might come out of my mouth if I speak.

  “I think you should go in and shower. Let me show you around.”

  “Is that so?”

  He nods. “Jeremiah and I hang out at this place called Red’s, you might like it.”

  “I’m underage in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t, but they don’t care and no one is sayin’ you have to drink. You can come or not, don’t matter none to me. You have fifteen minutes.”

  This time he walks away and right into the barn, out of sight, but not out of mind. I don’t know how I’m going to spend day after day working with him. He’s my boss for the summer and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

  Tyler

  The radio plays one of my favorite songs and by favorite I mean one that I’ll dance to at Red’s. I think my back is permanently slouched from leaning over and looking out the window for Savannah. The clock on the dashboard tells me that I’ve sat in my truck ten minutes longer than I said I would. One quick look at the front door and I know she’s not coming. If I were a betting man I’d say she went inside and asked her Aunt Sue about shopping. Sue would’ve likely played along for a few minutes, but Savannah’s smart and she’d catch on. Her aunt didn’t suggest shopping. I just wanted to get her away from the ranch so I could see if the girl I once knew was still inside. I just want to see her smile. She hasn’t done that since she arrived, granted she’s been here barely twenty-four hours, but still. A girl’s gotta smile and from what I remember, Savannah has a killer one.

  I drive away without looking back. The dust cloud behind me makes it impossible to stare at the house in my rear view mirror. I should be thankful that I can’t see it. I’d probably throw the truck in reverse and go drag her out of the house kicking and screaming. Of course that means I’d have to put her over my shoulder and hold her legs down with my arm, which would undoubtedly come in contact with her ass and that would likely be my undoing. Yes, it’s a very good thing I can’t see the McGuire house right now.

  Everything in my head is telling me to ignore her. To let her do her thing and not even bother making small talk. Uncle Bobby told me that she’s off to Paris as soon as the summer’s over, so getting attached only means heartache. Not that my heart beats for her or anything. But the thought of what Savannah was like when we were kids still lingers in the back of my mind. I know that Savannah is in there somewhere; she just needs to be let out. The girl I remember would’ve mounted any one of our mares for an early morning ride and would have told her uncle exactly what he can do with that chore list. Although, watching Savannah in those outlawed shorts and her aunt’s muck boots was comical, I’d rather see her dress appropriately for working on the ranch. The last thing we need is for her to hurt herself or get some pesky bugs biting up her legs. Hell, maybe she needs to be taught how to live on a ranch. I suppose living in the concrete city, you forget what it’s like to stop and smell the roses, or saddle up a horse and take a day trip out yonder. Maybe I’m just the guy to reacquaint her with life in the country, or maybe I just need to stay away from the enigma that is Savannah McGuire.

  Coming to Red’s was a bad idea. Inviting Savannah to come with me was even worse. At this rate, I’m destined to screw up something major and cause an epic catastrophe or go home with someone I shouldn’t. That someone just walked into Red’s and will surely be my breaking point tonight. Red’s is packed and there ain’t a place to park that won’t make me walk a hundred yards to get in the door. When I spot Jeremiah’s truck, I park in front of him, blocking him in. I figure I’ll end up leaving before him anyway so it won’t matter. I take one look in the mirror and give myself a pep talk. I can go in, have a beer, be cordial and go home alone. Or I can go in and let Annamae walk all over me, tell me how much she misses me and let her show me a good time in my truck. Either way, I’m screwed. I slide my hat on, adjust the rim and practice my best Tyler King ‘resident cowboy’ smile. Oh yeah, that’s going to knock ‘em dead.

  The music is blaring and bodies are moving on the dance floor. The constant thunk of boots hitting the wood at the same time makes the floor vibrate. There are a few girls standing on the edge waiting for a two-step and some fella to come ask them to dance. They’re all dressed similarly with their shorty shorts and cowboy boots on. I’m not usually a fan of this hoochie cowgirl style, except this is how I see Savannah dressing once she realizes she’s meant to be on the ranch. These are the city girls that come down for the weekend, slumming it. They want themselves a real cowboy, but only on the weekends when their corporate daddies are off playing golf and not watching their darling debutantes. This is where Jeremiah thrives. Me? Not so much. Unless, of course, you’re my ex and you’re blocking my way into Red’s.

  I tip my hat to Annamae who has her hands firmly on her hips. “Evenin’ Annamae. Haven’t seen you at the honkytonk in some time, Rufus out of town?” I should be bitter, but I’m not. He saved me from a life of being a socialite’s husband. Annam
ae would’ve never moved to the ranch and I definitely don’t want to live where there’s traffic.

  “I’ve been tryin’ to get up with you for days.”

  “Really? What for?” She hasn’t left a message at my house so I know she’s up to no good. It’s just a matter of me figuring it out before it’s too late.

  “I hear you have a Yankee livin’ with y’all.”

  Good news travels fast around these parts, except it’s not news and Savannah’s only been here for a day. “Yeah, where’d you hear that?”

  Annamae shrugs. “Around.”

  “Uncle Bobby’s kin, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know why you call him your uncle. He ain’t.”

  “Blood isn’t the only thing to make someone your kin, Annamae. Hell, we would’ve gotten hitched and you would’ve been my kinfolk.” I shake my head at her. Her family is high cotton and all about status. No one is good enough for her family. “I gotta find Jeremiah.”

  Annamae looks over her shoulder and angles her head. I look around and spot him on the dance floor being sandwiched by two redheads. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s definitely smooth.

  “Have a good night, Annamae.” I leave her standing there to contemplate the meaning of life or whatever else she needs to think about.

  “How do?” Della asks as she sets a beer on the bar for me. I nod in her direction, pick up my beer and spin to watch the line dancin’. Girls love it when a guy can dance, but I’m not into the synchronized dancing. Give me a two-step where I can hold my girl and let the music guide us and I’m happy. I can see Savannah and myself out there dancing. Hell, we used to dance on the porch all the time. She taught me how to two-step. I’m so much better at it now though, and I want to show her. I want to take her out there, place my hand on her neck and guide her around. I want to pull her close and let our bodies move in the same distinct motion. I want to feel her pressed against me and have my hat cover our faces when we kiss. These are all thoughts that I shouldn’t be having about Savannah.