by Blue, Casey
I slide my jeans up and fasten the button. I smell like bar, yuck. I open the door and take a deep breath. Somehow I have to get home and I’m not sure asking Jordan to take me is the right thing.
When I step into the room, I pause as he comes into view. He’s leaning back in a chair staring out the window where the curtains part. He looks so relaxed. I didn’t notice before that his hair is wet and tousled, making him look even sexier. He must have taken a shower while I was still asleep. He’s clothed in Jeans and a black t shirt that hugs him just right. He turns his head and meets my gaze. My eyes waver, looking to the floor embarrassed that he caught me gawking. I force my feet forward to the chair across from him.
I ask gesturing to the chair, “May I?”
He smiles nodding, “Please.”
I notice as I situate myself that he’s laid out a bagel and coffee for me with condiments all over the place, butter, cream cheese, jelly, creamer and sugar.
“I wasn’t sure what you like so I brought everything I could think of.”
That damn blush spreads again. What is it about this guy?
“Thank you.” I fix my coffee with just a packet of sugar and break my bagel apart, starting to eat it. He follows suit as soon as I start. I’m a little shocked that he waited for me. I watch as he puts the same in his coffee as me and he spreads cream cheese across his bagel. I bring my legs up and rest my feet on the edge of the chair grasping them in my arms as I slowly eat my bagel. I savor every bite, who knows when I’ll eat again, especially with the new expense of my car.
He asks softly, “You work at The Ugly Duckling?”
I nod while still chewing the bagel.
He continues, “Are the Bruins family?”
I smile around a bite and shake my head no. Once I’ve finished chewing I explain, “No, I work there too. I help Mrs. Bruin out with things around the house, the twins and stuff.”
He looks thoughtful but doesn’t respond. The silence spreads for a few minutes. I enjoy his company without complicated conversation. Once my bagel is gone, I wipe my hands on my jeans and shift in the chair. He’s been looking out the window for a few minutes, as if he’s deep in thought. He glances over at me and quietly says, “Thank you for last night.”
He continues before I can answer, “If I remember correctly your car isn’t currently in working condition so we need to go and take care of that.”
Alarms ring through my brain. He doesn’t need to be involved in the fixing of my car so I tell him, “If you could just give me a ride to the Duck, I’ll be good.”
He frowns and turns to look back out the window. When he meets my eyes again his expression is determined, “Kimber, it’s the least I can do after last night. I was pretty drunk and you don’t even know me, yet you still drove me here and cared enough to make sure I was okay.”
I shrug my shoulders and joke, “Well, I was kind of at your mercy, with the car situation and stuff.”
His mouth tilts in a half smile. It totally catches me off guard at how incredible he looks. I lower my feet to the floor and stand, averting my eyes to look for my shoes. How can I be so attracted to someone I don’t even know? He stands gathering our trash from the table.
Once my shoes are on, he opens the door gesturing me out first. I walk briskly to his car standing at the passenger door waiting for him to unlock the door. Instead of clicking the keypad he comes around the car and unlocks it when he reaches to open the door for me. I’m completely shocked at his manners. No one around here would be patient and courteous like this, whoever said chivalry was lost was sadly mistaken.
Once we are strapped in I decide to satisfy my curiosity and ask, “Where are you from?”
He maneuvers out onto Main Street in the direction of the Duck and answers, “Dallas.”
He’s definitely not a man of many words so I probe further, “Why are you here in Mount Vernon? I know it’s not our fine drinking establishment choices.”
He chuckles while watching the traffic in front of us, “No, I just needed to get away.”
Before I can ask any more questions he’s parked right next to my car and getting out. He comes around, grabbing the handle to open the door for me to climb out.
He nods toward my car, “Kimber ,why don’t you get in and try to start it again.”
The look on his face is serious and contemplative. I get into my sham of a vehicle, after being in his Infiniti, I’m just plain embarrassed. Instead of caressing the dash this time I lean forward and utter through clenched teeth, “You better start damn car.”
When I turn the key, a click echoes through the engine, the same sound as the previous night. Stupid piece of metal. He comes to the driver’s side door so I roll the window down as I wince at the squeaking each turn of the knob causes.
“Can you pop the hood so I can see what the battery looks like?”
I pull the lever and sit silently, trying to plan how I’m going to be able to afford this. I just paid all the bills for this week which left us with very little. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the crumpled bills from my tips last night. My count reveals seventy dollars. It should be enough if I do need to buy a new battery but I think Momma is about to run out of one of her meds. The insurance she has only goes so far. I rest my head in my hand and put my elbow on the edge of the window, closing my eyes for a minute.
Maybe I can ask Heidi. I have never asked Heidi for help. Her parents live on the other side of town on a two acre estate. The beauty of living in a small town, everyone regardless of which part you live in, goes to the same high school. We hit it off right away regardless of our different lives. It didn’t matter back then. Now though, I wish sometimes I had her options but then I would probably be floundering in a different way, just as she is.
“Um, Kimber?”
My eyes pop open. I forgot Jordan was there for a minute. He stands before my door, staring intently at me with amazing blue eyes. I lower my gaze to his hand which is holding the most disgusting looking thing I have ever seen. I open the door getting out and ask, “Is that my battery?”
“Yep, I’m guessing it’s pretty old.”
I shrug my shoulders and tell him, “Not sure. Mr. Bruin found the car for me when the last one died about three years ago. He was able to get a good deal for me.”
He smiles and says, “Well three years is good, it’s probably older than that though. Let’s go get a new one.”
He turns and walks toward his car. I roll the window back up and rush over to him. He is holding the passenger door open for me when I get there. I mumble as I get in, “You know you don’t have to do that.”
He closes the door and walks around the car. He turns to look at me once he’s in, “Do what?”
“Open and close the door for me, I’m pretty capable.”
A slow smile spreads and he agrees, “Yes, I know you are. It’s how I was raised; always open the door for a lady.”
I chuckle at his remark, no one has ever called me a lady. When I look back up he is serious and there’s something else in his look, pain or sorrow, I’m not sure. He puts the car into drive and I take the opportunity to ask about his being raised as he put it.
“So you’re from Dallas and you needed to get away. Why here?”
I watch as a frown forms at his brow. He looks over momentarily asking, “Why not?”
“Well for one it’s a shit hole. Everyone here is trying to leave.”
He laughs and it’s an amazing sound. This is the first time I’ve heard it and I want more suddenly. How can a mere sound from someone affect me like this?
“I have heard the town described as a shit hole three times by three different people in the past two days. Why do you want to leave?”
“I could ask you the same thing about Dallas. Why did you leave there?”
He falls silent and so do I. Obviously we both have reasons that we aren’t willing to share.
I direct him to the auto parts store at the corner of town
. When we trek through the store and find a matching battery, he insists on paying for it. He offers a sorry excuse about me having to take him back to the motel. Like that had anything to do with whether my car was going to break.
When we arrive back at the Duck, I try to call Momma but she doesn’t pick up. I knew she wouldn’t. I also know that it will be hell when I get home. With Jenna showing up yesterday, me staying out all night and pouring out her bottle, I will surely catch her wrath.
When he’s finished installing the battery and my car starts right up with no hesitation I thank the lord and of course the stunning Jordan Rhodes.
He hesitates by the window, “Well, I guess I’ll see you at the ranch, right?”
I can’t take my eyes away from his. I don’t want to leave but the nagging guilt of Momma makes me respond, “Yeah, I’m there on Monday after my classes.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise, “You are taking classes in addition to two jobs.”
It’s not really a question, more of an acknowledgement so I don’t respond. It’s obvious that I am poor. My car speaks volumes as do my choice of jobs. This is probably why he insisted on buying the battery. He felt sorry for me. But I’m nobody’s charity case. I shift the car into reverse and meet his stare one last time. Something pulls me to him like a magnet. I’m not sure what it is but Jordan Rhodes could definitely be dangerous for me. The verdict is still out on whether I want to confront that danger.
Chapter Seventeen
Jordan
Watching Kimber drive away brought feelings about that I don’t want to face. The whole fact that she took me back to my motel, a complete stranger, and stayed to make sure I was okay, puzzles me. This is completely foreign to me. Of course back home we take care of our own but not strangers.
As I settle back into the driver’s seat of my car, I can faintly smell her. She didn’t get to change her clothes from last night which I was sorry for but a sweet scent still lingers in the small space. There’s something about this girl I can’t quite put my finger on. She’s so strong and stubborn, this I found out when I bought the battery for her. But something else, maybe her friend was right, fragile was how she described her. There is way more than meets the eye and I am intrigued. A feeling I can’t explore though. I had my one chance and I blew it. Susan was it, any other ideas are just futile and I can’t even fathom a relationship with anyone else.
I check my watch to see if a drink is even a possibility. No, it’s only eleven thirty. A full day with nothing else to do except think has no appeal. I could go back to the motel but that will just cause thoughts of Susan to stir. Instead I put the car into drive and head down the road toward the Bruin Ranch. Mr. Bruin said I have today off but he probably won’t turn me away if I want to work.
When I pull into the drive a tall woman steps out onto the porch. Her light brown hair is fitted into a bun on the top of her head with wisps of gray framing her face. She is dressed in worn jeans and a white t shirt.
“Hello, you must be Jordan. I’m Ann, I thought Stanley gave you today off.” She meets me at the bottom step and holds out a hand for me to shake.
“Yes ma’am, he did but I thought, I thought maybe he could use the extra help. I only got one day so far to learn about things, so maybe I can see how things work.”
She smiles and nods, “I bet he could use the help. We never turn anyone away who wants to work. You might have just earned some points with him.” She winks after the last part. I smile uneasily. Who voluntarily goes to work on their day off?
She tells me to go on out to the barn and that Mr. Bruin will meet me out there. I walk out through the grasses that brush against my calves. Once I enter the barn, I notice the stalls lined against the walls. Each one contains a horse, totaling about ten. I approach the first to my left, a black mare. I reach out to her and she sniffs at my hand. Finally, I rest it on her head scratching behind her ears and down her mane. A booming voice rings behind me, “The Mrs. told me you were out here. Jordan what are ya doin out here on yer day off?”
I continue petting the horse as I answer, “Well sir, I’m new around here. It’s better to keep myself busy.”
“I guess it is. What about you helpin’ me with gettin’ these horses out to the pasture and then maybe we can finish that fence? We have a skeleton crew on the weekends, just Mike, Joe and me.”
I nod and ask, “What’s her name?” Referring to the horse nuzzling my hand.
He strolls over and pats the mare’s side. “This here is Gypsy. She’s the sweetest of all of them but the most stubborn. If she likes ya, she’ll do what you want. If not, she don’t budge. She can’t stand Mike so she gives him the hardest time.” He laughs after this last remark.
I smile and ask, “Can I?” intending on leading her out of the stall.
He nods turning to give his attention to one of the others. I grab a lead and attach it to her halter. Once the gate is open, she follows me out calmly. Mr. Bruin has another mare he is leading across the barn to the other side where a wide door leads out to the pastures. I lead Gypsy out behind him and unhook her once she enters the gate to the pasture. I rest my arms over the top of the fence and watch her. She greets the other mare, lowers her neck to take a bite of grass and then strolls back over to where I am. She leans over allowing me access to her neck for a quick pat.
Mr. Bruin’s whistle startles her and she backs up quickly, “Well I’ll be. I’ve never seen that stubborn girl warm up to somebody so quickly.” He eyes me for a moment before turning back toward the barn then calls out, “Let’s get to it Jordan, we got a busy day ahead.”
I follow him back in, glad for all of the distractions.
Mid-day after half the fence is fixed Mrs. Bruin appears in the field and calls out, “Hey guys, lunch is out.”
Mr. Bruin looks up and gestures for me to follow him. We walk up to the main house and a wide back porch. It’s situated under a large yellow and white striped canopy angled out from the house. A sitting area takes up space on one end. A table fit to serve twelve sits on the other end. Mrs. Bruin, Joe, Mike, and two small boys are sitting at the table waiting. I follow Mr. Bruin up the steps into the house to wash my hands. When we step back onto the porch I find a chair beside one of the boys. He looks up as soon as I’m seated and asks, “You sure look weird fer workin’ here.”
Everyone at the table breaks out laughing. Mrs. Bruin scolds him, calling him, Michael. She looks up to me and apologizes for his rudeness. I brush it off but wonder, “Actually, what makes me so weird- looking to work here?”
The other boy speaks up and explains, “Because silly, you ain’t got the same look as daddy. You is too clean.”
Everyone laughs again and Joe pipes up, “Yeah Jordan, you’re too pretty to be workin here.”
I smile at their laughter at my expense. It’s a welcome feeling from what I’ve endured recently. Mrs. Bruin made hamburgers and had pie for desert. After lunch I could have taken a nap but instead I followed Mr. Bruin back out to the fields to finish the fence.
***
Around 6:00, Mr. Bruin calls out, “Okay that’s a day. You can come on back tomorrow if you need to Jordan but you deserve some time off.”
I thank Mrs. Bruin for lunch before I leave and head back out to my car. I am so tired but I need to get a bite to eat before I go to bed.
I drive back to Main Street and find the small diner where I ate the night before on the cusp of town. When I enter, I find that it’s pretty busy but a booth halfway to the counter catches my eye. A waitress comes up, giving me a menu when I slide into the narrow bench. I ask for water and scan the room. It’s everything you would imagine an old diner to look like in a town like this. The room spans wider than it is long. An L shaped counter encompasses the right side of the room. Booths line both of the other walls and tables sit freely throughout the space.
When she returns I ask what the special is and order the shepherd’s pie, trusting when she tells me it’s the house speci
alty. When she brings the food and sets it down in front of me, I want to laugh but I don’t for fear of offending her. It looks like pure mush but I decide as she turns away, to try it anyway.
Just as I’m taking my first bite, the bell on the door rings alerting everyone that more patrons are entering. Since I walked in, the bell has rung many times. But this time something makes me look up. Kimber is walking through the door with her friend Heidi in tow. They are both laughing as she scans the room with a lingering smile. Her eyes land on me. I set my fork down and unintentionally sit up straighter. She is dressed in fitted jeans, her black converse from last night and a ruffled, pale pink top that accentuates her pure skin.
She leans back to tell Heidi something and Heidi nudges her arm. Suddenly Kimber looks apprehensive and unsure. She stands still almost as if she can’t make a decision. Finally, Heidi strolls forward grabbing her arm in a huff and pulls her toward me. They both stop at the edge of my table. Heidi asks, “Jordan right?”
I nod.
She asks emphatically, “Well are you gonna ask us to join you or what?” Kimber seems to squirm uncomfortably.
“Would you ladies like to join me?”
Kimber doesn’t make a move so Heidi pushes her into the booth. They both settle in across from me. Heidi looks down at my plate and exclaims, “You did not order the shepherd’s pie, did you?”
Before I can answer she calls across the restaurant, “Hey Flo, this is not acceptable.”
The waitress who suggested the mush to me strolls over with a scowl on her face. She directs her attention to Heidi, “Heidi DeLarue how many times do I have to tell you, my name is not Flo?”
Heidi dismisses her rant reprimanding, “Flo, I know you did not suggest the shepherd’s pie to my friend here. That shit is inedible.”
The waitress hisses, “I’m gonna tell your momma how disrespectful you are.”
“Whatever, you think my momma doesn’t already know how disrespectful I am? Just get my friend here something he can eat. He’s hungry Flo.”