Feeling This (17 page)

“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.

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
specialty. 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.”

The waitress grabs my plate and spins
around mumbling under her breath. I turn to Kimber at this point. Her hands are
fidgeting on the surface of the table. I avert my eyes because Susan did that
same thing all the time. When she was uncomfortable with something, she
fidgeted.  I glance over to Heidi who is still complaining about the waitress. When
I turn back to Kimber she is squirming in her seat. Heidi leans over and
whispers too loudly so I can hear every word, “Don’t worry. He’s an ass anyway,
you already know this. I don’t know why you agreed to keep the date. It’s your
own fault.”

As she says the last word, the bell on the
door rings again alerting that someone else has entered the restaurant. Heidi
looks up but I watch Kimber. She doesn’t look; instead she looks into my eyes
as if to apologize. Then I hear Heidi’s voice call out, “Oh yeah, this just got
very interesting.”