Buckeye and the Babe

by Olivia Gaines

  “No,” he said, unbuttoning the shirt, and it fell around her waist. She sat nude on the bed as he added more lotion to his hand and applied it her arms, shoulders, and back. All the while, he was talking, explaining, and expounding on who he was.

  “A few years back, I was on assignment observing this nasty group in West Virginia. We watched them bring the new women in, along with children, to this group of men and a prophet who named himself Luke,” he said. “I will never forget looking at the monitor as a young woman with a ten-year-old daughter arrived. Those God-fearing men were on the lady like a dog to a bone with a hunk of meat attached to it. The child, scared out of her mind was prepped to be Luke’s new wife that night.”

  His voice caught with emotion as he spoke.

  “I risked everything, but I went in. Under the cover of night when they were all drunk—on lust and whatever other chemicals they chose to ingest—I went in. I put my finger to my lips for the little girl to be quiet as I hefted her mother onto my back,” he said, sighing deeply. “I told the little girl to hold on to my shirt and not let go.”

  His eyes teared as he stopped and sat on the bed beside his wife.

  “She held on tight to the tail of my shirt as we ran through the woods at a steady pace in the dark, and I am uncertain how she kept up, but she knew those men meant her no good,” he said softly. “They were my first.”

  “The first,” she mimicked, feeling the effects of the wine.

  “I set them up with a new identity. They now live in Des Moines and Darynda, the mother is a manager at Walmart, and Molly, the little girl is on the track team, if you can enjoy the irony. She will be graduating high school this year and running track this Summer for Iowa State,” he said.

  “You gave them a new identity like you did for Tameka and Michelle,” she said, turning to look at him. He looked tired.

  “Yes. I don’t like wrongdoing to children in the name of God,” he said. “Adults who make the decision to follow false prophets are one thing. Sacrificing children to cloaked pedophiles is another. I have a soft spot for kids. I only intervene in the extreme cases with the kids.”

  “You give them new bank accounts and identifications. Where do you get the money?” she asked.

  “These groups have a lot of it,” he said. “All I have to do is wait. They get drunk on a ritual night and I ease in, remove a stack, and use it to set up new lives for the people they hurt.”

  “That is dangerous,” she said, touching his leg.

  “I do some of it electronically as well, move a few pennies at a time so they don’t notice,” he told her.

  “So that is your ministry, helping women and children start over,” she said flatly.

  “I do what I can, where I can without blowing my cover or being prosecuted by the same government I am sworn to serve,” he said, looking at his watch. “I need to go get our clothes. Be right back.”

  Cabrina laid nude on the bed. Gabriel had applied lotion to her entire body without it being sexual leaving her in a relaxed state ready to enter the world of Sleepyville. She had also drunk the entire glass of wine and suddenly felt loopy. Putting the shirt back on, she slid into the bed, under the covers, waiting for her husband to return. The bad news she was ready to handle.

  With the folded clothing in his arm, he entered the room to find Cabrina in bed, and she watched him load the items into their travel bags. He does laundry. Sexy. I wonder if he can cook, too. I bet he looks amazing working in the garden with sweat running down the sides of his face and back.

  “Mrs. Neary, you are looking at me as if you have carnal thoughts in your head,” he said, bending, making a point to show her his ass.

  “Mrs. Neary is tipsy,” she responded drowsily. “Between the adrenalin from beating a woman with a purple dildo, leaving at five am, and oh, yeah, those two weirdos with Jimbo the sex toy with a permanent hard-on, I am spent.”

  Undressing quickly, stripping down to his only remaining pair of underwear, he slipped into bed, laying beside her. He rested on his side staring at the beauty of her profile. An odd feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach when she rolled to her side and stared him in the eyes. Gabriel blinked several times trying to get control of the emotions overtaking his common sense.

  “Gabe, you said there was good news and bad news,” she said, running her index fingers across his lips.

  “Good news is that we didn’t have to witness whatever they planned to do with that huge vibrating dick,” he said.

  “Now the bad news,” she chuckled, almost holding her breath.

  “Paunch stole two bottles of wine and all of our underwear,” he replied, laughing. “I guess tomorrow, we are going to have to put ours back on and turn them inside out or something.”

  “Or we could go commando,” she said, leaning forward, providing her husband a kiss. Sleep overtook and her eyes closed. The long dark lashes grazed her cheeks. To Gabriel Neary, Cabrina Anne Robinson Neary looked angelic.

  He lay there for a long time, simply watching her sleep. A lovely woman, who in the morning, he would introduce to his parents as his wife. She was the future mother of his children. A woman who, in less than four days, had stolen his heart. He wasn’t falling in love with Cabrina. He was already there.

  Getting out of bed, he closed himself in the bathroom so the light wouldn’t disturb her while he made notes in his journal. Solomon 3:4, he jotted down in the notebook. “Scarcely had I passed them when I found the one my heart loves.”

  He said a silent prayer, hoping that his parents would love her as well.

  Chapter 13 – Mom, Dad...this is Cabrina.

  After a hearty breakfast holding the greasiest spoon that had ever sat beside a plate, Cabrina and Gabriel crossed the Georgia state line just past the hour of eleven and would arrive at Blairsville just before the lunch hour rush. It was Tuesday. Ethel at the diner was making her chicken and dumplings and apple pie. The apple pie was by far the best pie Gabriel had ever tasted in his life, seasoned to perfection and loaded with golden raisins and walnut pieces. He wanted a whole pie as well as a double order of the chicken and dumplings.

  “Gabe, tell me about your relationship with your brothers,” Cabrina said when he slowed down, keeping an eye on the speed limit as they entered the mountain community.

  “Not much to tell. Isiah and Zeke are doers, you know physical dudes that played sports and like to hunt and shoot. Me, I am the more cerebral one who hates hunting and goes fishing for the relaxation of it, but takes pride in an enjoyable book,” he said.

  “I take it you got that from one of your parents.”

  “Our mom is a retired English teacher,” he told her, smiling. “When we came here for a few summers, she’d come with us, making us read classical literature novels. I was the one who wanted to have long and lengthy discussions about the books. My brothers only wanted to read the ones loaded with action.”

  “Your favorite?”

  “I am partial to Pasternak, Tolstoy, and Dostoyevsky. I have read some others that I found to be a light reading, like Treasure Island,” he said. “That one is Zeke’s favorite.”

  “I don’t mean to be nosy, it’s just that as an only child, outside of Tameka, I don’t really understand the complexities of sibling dynamics,” she told him. “She and I are total opposites and most times, I never really understood her. Is it hard to understand your brothers?”

  “No need. We love each other and respect our differences. I stay out of their way and they leave me alone,” he said.

  “As the middle child, I’m sure you found yourself to be the mediator in a substantial number of things,” she offered, thinking she had some insight.

  “Nope,” he said flatly. “Our energy is not so complicated. Isiah likes to build things and is heavy into flipping old barns and farms he buys dirt cheap and sells for profit. Zeke likes to tinker and repair, hunt, fish, and live off the land. When he decided they would live in the cabin, it was no surprise to us.”
<
br />   “They are going to stay here?” She said, sitting forward in the passenger seat.

  “My parents gave him the deed to the land last week. They have plans to expand the current cabin, update it, and add a water closet and master suite. I will let them tell you about it,” he said, locating a parking space next to the Sheriff’s cruiser. “Follow my lead when we get inside.”

  The Sheriff, a beer-bellied man who was a dirty as the panties Judy had stolen and chosen to soil, would more than likely be inside the diner. The streets were lined with vehicles sporting the State of Georgia symbol, which meant they were still working on the roads.

  The jangling of the doorbell caused a few people to look up as Gabe and Cabrina walked into the diner, with Gabe leading the way to the counter. A stout woman, wearing a dingy white apron and a hair net sat on a stool behind the counter. Her ruddy cheeks reddened when she saw Gabriel’s face. Coming to her feet, she hobbled her way to the counter.

  “Gabriel Neary as I live and breathe. Lordy boy, let me take a look at you,” Ethel told him.

  The Sheriff took notice of him as well, almost sputtering out his coffee at the mention of Gabriel’s name. His eyes squinted as if it would enable him to better hear the exchange of words between Ethel and one more law enforcing Neary on his mountain.

  “It’s Tuesday, Ms. Ethel. I would like to buy a whole apple pie and a full pan of your infamous chicken and dumplings for me and my family. This is my wife, Anne,” Gabriel said.

  “I didn’t hear you’d gotten married. I knew it wouldn’t take long for some little hen to snag a cock of the walk like you,” Ethel said. She shouted over her shoulder, her thick neck barely rotating as she called out his order. “Gabe, you want a grape soda to go with that or has your palate gotten too refined?”

  “A grape soda would be great,” he said with a smile. “Make it two and a strawberry one for Zeke.”

  “I hear he’s a father now with a pretty little baby girl,” Ethel said, picking up the containers of food.

  “Yes Ma’am, he is. A proud one at that. I came down to bring my niece a gift and hang out for a few days,” Gabriel said proudly.

  This statement caught the Sheriff’s attention, and he stood up, waddling his girth over to the coffee pot to refill his cup, which was decorated with brown dribbles down the side. Cabrina kept her eyes focused on the man. His shifty stare made her uneasy, especially since he’d been gawking at her since she came through the door.

  Sheriff Huckston cleared his throat, “Uhhm, did I hear you right, son? You one of Joe Neary’s boys? Which one are you?”

  “I’m the one who does covert surveillance for the company,” he told the Sheriff. “I understand your last day as Sheriff is at the end of this month.”

  “How do you know that?” The Sheriff asked as several people in the diner turned to look at the beer-bellied man.

  “Your government always knows what you are up to, Sheriff,” Gabriel said with a coy smile, pushing the wide rimmed glasses up his nose. “Just because they don’t make a move, doesn’t mean they aren’t watching. Good for you and perfect timing.”

  “Is that a threat boy?” The Sheriff asked.

  “Sheriff, why would you consider that to be a threat unless you have a few things to hide?” Gabriel offered again with a smile.

  “How long you staying, boy?”

  “As long as I feel like it, Sheriff,” Gabriel said with a wider smile, daring the man to make a move. “I’m sure you don’t have a problem with that.”

  Huckston’s eyes were now on Cabrina. He recognized the pretty lady but couldn’t put his finger on where he’d seen her. A picture. Aisha Miller’s friend. Cabby. Cabra. Close to it.

  “I heard you tell Ethel that this is your wife. Does she talk or just likes to stand around adding her beautiful to a place,” he said with a snarl.

  Cabrina took it as her cue, “You think I’m beautiful? That is so sweet of you. Gabe, you said everyone here was really friendly, I see why Tameka and Zeke wanted to make this home.”

  “Young lady, I didn’t catch your name,” Sheriff Huckston said, moving his belly closer to her in an intimidating fashion. Gabriel moved to stop him. But Cabrina touched his arm to slow down the building testosterone standoff.

  “I didn’t toss it your way, but it’s Anne. Anne Neary. A pleasure to meet you,” she said, stepping closer so her jacket buttons touched his belly.

  “You look familiar,” Huckston said, squinting his eyes.

  “Quite possible, especially if you know two women who can walk into a room and add beautiful to the place,” she said, giving him a smile and a wink. Quickly, she turned to her husband, snatching the Sheriff out of the intimate moment. “Gabe, we need to get moving.”

  “Sure thing,” he said to Cabrina. To the Sheriff, he offered, “I know she is a babe, but I would appreciate if you stopped drooling over my wife.”

  Cabrina paid for the meal in cash, holding tightly to the receipt as Gabriel said his goodbyes and led her out the door loading up the goodies. The aroma of food filled the car as the two fastened their seat belts, ready to head up the mountain.

  “You shouldn’t have antagonized him,” she told her husband.

  “Cabrina, if I had an extra pair of dirty drawers, I would have left them stuck in his coffee. Plus, you are one to talk, rubbing bellies with that buffoon,” he said.

  “I didn’t rub bellies with him,” she said, folding her arms. Her heartbeat had increased tremendously at the thought of seeing her friend in a few minutes.

  “Darn near...you know ‘two kinds of beautiful’...what was that about?”

  “Why were you calling me by my middle name of Anne?” She countered defensively.

  “Because he knows your face and the name Cabrina. He’s been expecting you to show up and validate that Tameka is, in fact, Aisha Miller, so he can make a plan, take her and my brother out because he has nothing else to do other than stir the pot or eat out of Ethel’s, and then retire,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said, shrinking back in the seat.

  “Every move with that man is a chess strategy. You have to be on your game, but I think you threw him off with your belly rubbing,” Gabriel said, enabling the turn signal in the vehicle to make the climb up the mountain.

  “I wasn’t belly rubbing him!”

  “Don’t matter. He has a dickey doo anyway,” Gabe said.

  “A what?”

  “A dickey doo. His belly sticks out further than his dicky do,” Gabe said, putting the car in a low gear as they made the ascent. The smell of Georgia pine trees filled the car, nearly overshadowing the scent of Ethel’s chicken and dumplings. They passed three driveways before coming to one with a Do Not Trespass sign. He knew that driveway belonged to Nathaniel Mann.

  “Of all the things I have imagined about you, Mr. Neary, being the jealous type isn’t one of them,” she said.

  “Neither did I,” he confessed to her. “I guess this whole love thing is new to me. I am trying to wrap my mind around all these new feelings. It’s making me all aggressive and protective of my woman.”

  “If that wasn’t so totally archaic, it would be endearing,” she said.

  “I’m trying to confess my love for you, Mrs. Neary. I may be doing a lousy job of it since I’m new at this, but the idea of another man looking at you too long brings out the He-man in me,” he said.

  “The He-man in you. What about the minister in you? Gabriel, the minister of God, what happened to that guy?” she wanted to know.

  “He will be the one telling any man that comes near you, they should be prepared to have a closer walk with Jesus,” he said, looking at her and laughing.

  “That’s not funny, Gabriel.”

  “It’s funny to me,” he said, making a right down a red dirt road. The vehicle rumbled down the hard clay, and she made note of the old blue mailbox appearing as if it were destined to fall over if not for the bushes bracing the back of the metal. Her nerves were getting t
he better of her, causing her stomach to roil. She hadn’t been able to eat much since the start of the trip. The steak they shared on the first night in Vegas had been the best meal thus far.

  Wafting scents of salty chicken and thick floury dumplings didn’t help her current state. Not only was she about to meet her in-laws, she would also have a long overdue conversation with her best friend of over twenty years. In her heart, she knew the person she was about to see was not the woman she knew. This lady was going to be a stranger to her. The love they once shared had been rolled with a masher, and she was afraid to see the new product it had produced. I am scared.

  I’m scared to meet his parents.

  I’m afraid to see the person she has become.

  I’m scared of this marriage she’s agreed to and the relationship she has with that child. Is it his brother’s or does it belong to the man who held her hostage?

  Her heart thumped in her chest in fear of the unknown. Fear of what she was walking into, and fear of three days on this mountain now that her husband had sparked the ire of that Sheriff. Relax Cabrina. Relax. Go with the flow. You are not in control here.

  THE CAR CAME TO A STOP in a graveled driveway in front of a two-car garage that was closed while a black SUV was parked outside. Gabriel, happy to see the old place, anxiously jumped from the car, grabbed the food, and asked Cabrina to bring the pie and sodas. They rounded the side of the cabin, to come face to face with two people sitting on the front porch in old-fashioned rockers. The planters that once held flowers were bare sans damp dirt, and the people seemed happy to see them both.

  Gabriel had his father’s looks, except for his mother’s brown eyes. Mary rose to her feet, brushing down the front of her cream-colored blouse accented with perfect pink roses that matched the sweater she wore over it held together at the neck with one single button. Large, black framed glasses sat on her nose. She closed the book she had been reading as her gaze went to Gabriel.

  “Gabe, we were getting worried,” she said to her son.