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Secret: Of Amber Eyes

Page 3

by D. K. Davis


  I followed my aunt out of the pen, closing the gate behind me.

  We walked back to the barn and went straight to the sterilization room. She set the bottle carrier on the counter. “We’ll come back to wash and sterilize later.” I followed her out the barn door we had entered earlier, and then we headed toward the larger barn.

  A couple of little dark furry balls skittered across the path in front of us and ran into some of the taller grass. A few minutes later, the little creatures scampered right beside Aunt Becka as if keeping to the speed of her pace. She reached down and picked both of them up, one in each hand.

  “This is Woody.” She held out her left hand toward me. “And this is Willy.” Her right hand extended. “These two young woodchucks moved in with us a couple of months ago. See how their claws curl right over my fingers.”

  I touched Willy’s front paw. He sniffed my finger.

  “Do you want to hold him?”

  “Sure.” Not much to his weight even though he appeared heavier. I carried the critter, matching my aunt’s way of holding it.

  “They love vanilla wafers. Sometimes, I give them graham crackers, but their favorite, by far, are the wafers.” Aunt Becka waved a finger at the bigger building. “We call this barn, Big Red, just to keep the two barns straight when giving or getting instructions.” Then she pointed at the row of cages along the outside wall. “The roof extends outward and protects the cages underneath from rain and sun. Our smaller wildlife stays in these cages while being rehabilitated.”

  She bent to set Woody on the ground. I let Willy down next to the other, and then followed Aunt Becka along the cages. She showed me a few residents; a gray squirrel with an injured leg, a few abandoned baby raccoons, and a broken-winged owl. A couple wild turkey hens roamed around free. They’d been brought in as babies and were now about eight months old. Aunt Becka called them Thelma and Louise after an old movie.

  We walked to a larger fenced-in area a short distance away. I saw a three-legged deer and a few other deer in different degrees of health and age. Aunt Becka grabbed a water hose from outside the fence and dragged it inside with her, closing the gate behind. She sprayed water into a long, short-sided tub. A couple of the deer raced over and jumped so their front legs dropped over the rim, splashing the water.

  “Sometimes when it gets really warm outside, these guys will empty this tub a couple times a day. They love playing in the water, even though this is really their drinking water.” Aunt Becka adjusted the hose to a fine mist and sprayed a couple of the deer that ambled closer. Some appeared timid. “They’re being cautious because you’re a new smell to them.”

  Somehow, it didn’t feel right being familiar to them by my smell, of all the senses. Although, I had noticed that each animal produced its own unique odor, something I’d never realized before. Probably because I lived in the city, a far cry from wildlife.

  Uncle Charlie and Rowan drove up, side-by-side, on a utility vehicle that looked like a small version of a truck, the back end filled with posts, shovels, other materials, and a roll of fencing.

  Rowan jumped off and walked to the gate, his gaze met mine and stole my breath.

  Instantly, my face blazed with heat.

  He grinned at me, showing his white teeth, and then turned toward my aunt. “Becka, I’ll haul the feed out for you.” Rowan vanished inside the barn.

  Uncle Charlie turned the utility vehicle around and then walked over to the gate. “How are you gals doing? Morgan, your aunt isn’t being too hard on you, is she?”

  I shook my head. “There’s a lot to take in, but I can handle it if I have some sort of list to keep me straight.”

  Both my aunt and uncle chuckled. Then Aunt Becka turned the hose on Uncle Charlie. “That’s for stirring up trouble.” She sprayed him good, leaving every inch of his front side wet before he turned tail and ran back to the ATV.

  Rowan stepped out of the barn in time to see Uncle Charlie’s great escape.

  “I’m done with the gals.” My uncle waved at us and turned his attention back to Rowan. “Just leave the feed at the gate and let’s get this fence repair wrapped up for today. It’s already hot outside.”

  Rowan nodded and rolled the wheelbarrow full of different feed bags in through the gate, disregarding my uncle’s instruction. “Here you go. See you two later.” He winked at me, and this time my whole body stirred into a firestorm.

  “Come on, Rowan, or I’m leavin’ ya to walk out to the fences on your own.”

  Rowan rushed out, latching the gate and then waving as they drove off.

  Aunt Becka shut off the hose and coiled it. We filled the deer feeder and afterward, walked around to the smaller cages, filling the water and food dishes as Aunt Becka checked each of them health-wise. She as we moved along the outside of the cages.

  We also cleaned out cages, pens, and a couple goat stalls. We had just finished cleaning the last goat stall in the barn and Aunt Becka waved me over.

  “Come here and sit.” She pointed at the blanket spread near a corner of the stall.

  “What’s this for?”

  She held a finger up, indicating for me to wait a minute, and then brought in a white and brown goat with floppy long ears. She tied it to a short post and harnessed its head through a bracket attached to a slightly raised platform beside the blanket. The goat stood quiet, waiting. Aunt Becka tucked a small bucket underneath the goat.

  “Have you ever milked a goat or cow?” She squatted down on her knees and grabbed two elongated finger-like udders. She pressed and squeezed. Milk shot into the bucket. “Voila, milk. Now, your turn.”

  I took hold of the goat’s udders, pulled and squeezed. My nose itched. Not now. The goat bleated.

  “No, no, no.” Aunt Becka took over, pushing me back, but not too far. I rubbed the end of my nose, no relief.

  “You need to pull and squeeze at the same time.” Aunt Becka got a couple of squirts. “Don’t be afraid to squeeze. You need to be firm. See.” She backed away for me to move up.

  “Like this?” To my surprise, milk sprayed into the bucket.

  “Perfect.”

  Nobody had ever said ‘perfect’ to me. What other meaning can that word have? Like the silent words stacked behind it.

  We milked two more goats and poured the milk into containers, placing those into the refrigerator inside the sterilization room. We fed all of the fawns again, checked the ‘out-back’ deer’s water, and I cleaned and freshened their bedding. Just as I finished, Aunt Becka decided it was time for dinner.

  I craved some alone time. When we walked into the house, I went straight up to my room. My first day here and instead of tired, a restless anxiety beat through me.

  Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie were up to something. No one ever acts that nice without an ulterior motive. To be honest, their agonizing play at treating me nice wore me down.

  I couldn’t remember a time when I’d rated a smile from Mom, and here, Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie never knew when to turn it off.

  Something is undeniably up between them and me. No one is that nice. How long before the proverbial boom lowers?

  Chapter Four

  Morgan

  Stretching out across the high bed, I attained an unobstructed view out the front or back windows. Dust rose from the front drive, making me curious. A guy in an old bright yellow pick-up truck drove to the front of the house. Brakes squealed to a halt, the sound drifting up the stairs, along with some of the dust that floated through the screen door.

  “Hey, Becka, Charlie.” The screen door slammed behind the truck guy, and the tone of his voice sounded exactly like Rowan. “Wow, it smells good in here.”

  “Oakly, you’re just in time. I cooked up some noodles to go with the pot roast for dinner. You want to stay and eat?” I heard a slap and Aunt Becka chuckled. “Charlie, no picking until we’re all at the table.”

  “Charlie, you da man, trying to grab my hat.” Oakly snort-laughed.

  “Does
that mean you’re staying to eat?” Aunt Becka asked.

  “Sure. I actually stopped by because I heard a rumor you had a roomy staying with you for a while. Thought I’d show him around. Plus, I’m delivering Rowan’s truck. I ran off with it this morning.”

  Aunt Becka laughed so hard, I grinned while still sitting on the bed. Geeze, I was eavesdropping. Did he just call me a guy?

  “Morgan! Dinner’s ready!” Uncle Charlie called from the kitchen.

  I got up and strolled over to the loft railing to look below.

  “Come down.” My uncle had walked to the bottom step and signaled toward the kitchen. “There’s someone we want you to meet.”

  After a whole afternoon of feeding animals and cleaning cages, I had to look like an animal myself. I certainly smelled like all of them. Oh, well…I treaded down the steps. It would be uncomfortable for a minute and then he would want to leave. Making friends wasn’t my specialty, most especially male friends. There would be no blame when he leaves…who needed guy friends anyway? Okay, besides my mother.

  “Oakly, let me introduce you to my niece, Morgan,” Aunt Becka said as I stepped off the stairway.

  I stared at the floor. I always dreaded seeing disappointment stamped in the eyes of the guys Mom escorted when she’d introduced me as her daughter, and this sort of felt like the same.

  Oakly gasped.

  I looked up, and then my breath caught. He looked exactly like Rowan. “You’re twins.”

  His smile sparkled…can smiles actually sparkle? Oakly nodded, then said, “I knew your name was Morgan, from my dad. But I expected you to be a guy.” He chuckled, whipped off his hat, and bowed. “Glad you’re not.”

  Uncle Charlie coughed and Aunt Becka let loose her contagious giggle.

  Rowan stepped in from the backdoor. “Did you bring my truck?” He dashed into the half-bath and water ran in the sink, probably washing his hands.

  Oakly stood rock-still in front of me. His gaze locked on mine creating a heatwave across my cheeks. The weirdest feeling swept through me, uncomfortable and claustrophobic as if I were a weak animal cornered by a carnivore that wanted to eat me.

  Then it hit me, something was wrong with this boy. Mom had said troubled kids came here to help out at the refuge. So, what was wrong with Rowan? The way he made me feel was the complete opposite of Oakly.

  “I’ll get the plates filled and bring them to you at the table. Everyone, sit.” Aunt Becka stacked plates on the counter from a cupboard and Uncle Charlie grabbed the silverware from a drawer.

  I sat across from Oakly. Rowan plopped into the chair beside me. My nose itched. It always itched at the most inopportune moments. I turned away and quickly rubbed it. From my peripheral, Rowan watched Aunt Becka fill the plates, but Oakly’s gaze drilled into me. I looked everywhere but at him.

  Rowan jumped up. The sunlight from the window made his dark blond hair glisten. He carried the filled plates to the table as Aunt Becka finished. His sleeveless shirt displayed swollen upper arms from the weight of the dishes and accented his rugged reddish-gold tan. Is everyone tan around here?

  He smiled when he caught me staring. His hazel eyes flashed of humor as if catching me peeking at him through the crack of a bathroom door. Heat rose from my chest up my neck and blazed over my face. My nose itched, again! Instead of itching it, I wrinkled it and moved my lips around, right when Rowan set a plate in front of me.

  “What?” he asked. “Don’t you like it? I’ll eat yours.” He moved to take the plate.

  “No, you won’t.” I slapped his hand. Oh, my Gods, I just slapped his hand! Hard.

  “Why’d you make that face?” Rowan shook his hand, the one I slapped.

  “I didn’t make a face. What are you talking about?” My face flamed even more. Little sweat beads weighed heavy above my lip. “This is my regular face.”

  Aunt Becka let out a bellow of laughter.

  I jerked, and Rowan caught my chair before it capsized. Thank the Gods. Guess I got a little tense.

  Rowan and Uncle Charlie chuckled at my reaction, but Oakly’s expression remained stoic as he stuck a fork of food into his mouth. His eyes never left my face.

  A creepy chill rushed down my spine and I dropped my fork, hitting the edge of the ceramic plate exactly right to break it. My mouth snapped open in reaction and when I glanced across the table at Oakly, he grinned.

  Rowan grabbed my hand, studying it. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?”

  Warmth spread from where his fingers touched mine, up my arm and slammed into my chest. My whole body relaxed and leaned toward him. His eyes held mine, and I swore his glowed, for the second time. Odd.

  Aunt Becka jumped up, stepped around the table, and removed the broken plate pieces. She dumped everything into the garbage while I grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped down my spot at the table.

  “Here you go, dear.” My aunt set another plate of food on the table. I sat and then focused only on eating.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Rowan shuffled around on his chair, digging a couple of snapshots out of his back pocket. “I heard you were looking for a puppy.” He handed one to Uncle Charlie and one to Aunt Becka.

  “Oh, my goodness, would you just look at those little angels.” Aunt Becka smiled and flashed the picture at me. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  A picture of little puppies, and yes, puppies are naturally cute.

  “These are your Border Collies, right?” Uncle Charlie took Aunt Becka’s picture, exchanging his picture for hers.

  “Sure are. They’re a working breed, good for herding and protecting. At least that’s what Mom always says to people interested.” Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie handed the pictures back to him.

  “When will the puppies be ready to sell?” Uncle Charlie winked at me.

  Wonder what that means?

  Rowan looked at me and went silent.

  Crap, my nose itched again! I wrinkled my nose.

  His breath caught. “You did it again.”

  “What?” I rubbed my nose in fast motion.

  “Your nose itched?”

  “What of it?”

  Aunt Becka’s laughter bellowed out and I jumped. Will I ever get used to it?

  Everyone at the table laughed, with the exception of Oakly, who continued to wig me out with his constant staring. I averted him by looking and listening to everyone’s happiness and joined in…not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t stop myself. Everyone had tears in their eyes they laughed so hard. My cheeks hurt and my stomach felt tight. Tears rolled down my face, and my nose…didn’t itch.

  Afterward, when we settled back into normal, Rowan said, “Back to the puppies. Mom said you could have the first pick if you’re interested. She also said you’d get a good deal. Payment would be like a quart or two of goats milk a week for six months.” Rowan shrugged his shoulders. “You’ll have to check with her. I’m not sure what the entire deal was.”

  “We’ll get with your Mom. When did you say they’d be ready?”

  “A couple of weeks.” Rowan scraped the last of his noodles onto his fork with a slice of homemade buttered bread. “Mmmm, that is by far the best noodles I’ve ever had.”

  Aunt Becka smiled. “You’re too kind.”

  “Morgan and I’ll do dishes,” Rowan announced and picked up the emptied plates.

  I shuffled out of my chair, not appreciating more work on top of what I’d already done for the day. Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie grabbed Oakly by the arm and went off to feed the fawns again. The twins ate every two to three hours, she’d informed me earlier in the day.

  “You wash. Your hands look like they could use a good scrubbing,” Rowan sealed the drain of the sink, handed me the liquid dish soap and stood back.

  I grabbed the soap bottle and noticed the dust and hay powder stuck around my fingernails. Yuck. I ate dinner looking like this. After taking a brief scan down my T-shirt and shorts, what did the top of the bedspread look like? My socks and t
ennis shoes boasted of filth. Prison life isn’t very becoming! But neither is my life in general.

  We breezed through washing the dishes. Afterward, when we put them away, I found one of the lower cupboards was actually a dishwasher. Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier?

  “How about taking a hike through the woods? We got a couple of hours before dark.” Rowan hung the kitchen towel through the oven handle. “Come on, I want to show you this awesome place.”

  “Shouldn’t I check with Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie first? They’ll probably have something else for me to do.” I didn’t want to go and then find out Rowan wasn’t the nice guy he appears. Deception seemed to be everyone’s game.

  “We can take the barn path and check with them on the way out.” Rowan grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. It slammed behind us, jarring me to the fact Rowan held my hand in his…and he ran like a gazelle.

  Breathless and still holding hands, we ran through the barn, around the backside and found Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie inside the pen feeding the twins in the covered enclosure. Oakly stood outside the wire fence, watching and talking. They all looked toward us as we neared the wire enclosure within the fawns’ pen.

  “Hey, Charlie, I thought I’d show Morgan where the stream bends through the woods. Maybe end up out at the meadow before we come in. Would that be all right?”

  Charlie glanced at his watch. “Don’t dally in the woods. It’s about 7:00, you’ve got a couple hours or so. Dark comes fast once it starts, especially in the forest. Becka and I’ll meet you in the meadow just before dusk. Out by the log pile, how’s that?”

  Rowan yanked on my hand.

  “Sounds good,” I replied and pulled my hand out of Rowan’s grasp.

  Aunt Becka let out a bellow of laughter. Both fawns jumped, as did I. Is Aunt Becka really that happy all the time?

  “Want me to come along?” Oakly stepped closer to me, and I swore all of my nerve endings shrunk away from the inside of my skin, like two deflecting magnets.

  “Nah, I got this. Besides, Charlie needs more help with the back-fence posts.” Rowan winked at Uncle Charlie then grabbed my hand again and pulled me along the backside of the barns.

 

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